#and like we have loads of students who Do move out and go to very good unis and even oxbridge

[wisteriagoesvroom]

LOL I can imagine for vampire au Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident he can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else, and somehow he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb). Then also, if you don’t mind my ask, what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ?

HELP this is so cute. ok. norpinto-frando vampire au for those who aren't up to speed...

Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident, [Lando] can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else -> screaming cus, absolutely. random associated headcanons for this... i'll rewind a bit:

carlos is the oldest vampire, like, moorish/medieval era. he met lando while they were both at a masquerade ball in the early 1600s and smelled each other right away (carlos like wood and ink, lando like gas lamps and wet stone).

lando is an tudor era vampire. like he actually knew shakespeare and said he was one of the best viral marketers of the era

oscar was turned in the early days of the australian penal colony, he's like first or second generation white australian but he refuses to be called british. he moved in to the house because the rent was cheap and he doesn't feel the need to live extravagantly -- even though he, too, is $$ loaded $$

oscar didn't move in until about two decades ago - very short by vampire standards, to them it feels like yesterday - but carlos and oscar are basically They Were Roommates atp even though they squabble con-stant-ly

their neighbours think they are a new age-y polyam group but because the people who live opposite them are students, nobody ever hangs around longer than a year to remember them or dig deeper

so franco definitely brings a fun funky fresh dynamic

he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb) -> things that baby vamp!franco teaches lando include

tiktok trends, like how to make ur teeth comically large in photos. lando finds this hilarious

how to use venmo

creating a roster on google docs for who needs to do what house chores

jailbreaking an apple watch so it doesn't read their pulses (they don't have any), but it will remind them of the moon phases and when they might be extra hungry to feed

at one point franco actually puts his academic skills to use and helps lando hunt down some of his family tree, because since lando was turned and it's been so long, he doesn't remember much about them : ( so one of franco's little gifts to lando is helping him trace his heritage

what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ? -> i love how practical-minded you are. um well let's say this fictional supernatural creatures' market mostly runs on barter trades and goodwill agreements. the entire house sometimes just gets lazy tbh so lando or carlos will just dig into one of the old chests of random shit and pull out an antique and go: "do we think this is worth anything?" then they take it to an antiques dealer who is also a mage (alex albon) and there is a 1 in 25 chance that the antique is actually is worth something, so that bankrolls them for another half a year or whatever.

carlos makes a lot of noise about being "an art dealer" just because he sold a goya painting to a museum once.

oscar is a man of industry, of the "newer" world (australia) etc etc so he spent the 80s and 90s learning C++ and Java and Python so he legit just codes for a living. or when he feels like it. oscar has helped launch at least a dozen startups under various pseudonyms and one of them is even a blue chip company by now. he doesn't do it for money tho. he just does it cus he likes a challenge, and otherwise fights with carlos too much. when he isn't coding he likes to tinker and fix things just for fun. like, he legit knows how to fix a boiler and stuff. his familiar is definitely a grumpy orange neighbourhood cat.

franco keeps studying!! he is such a nerd that he's like "i can totally learn everything about anything now, and i could in theory do like 20 masters degrees, and nobody can stop me"!! then lando is like, "well you might get bored of it after a while or burn out". but franco insists he will not. in fact with his enhanced neurological abilities he goes on an academic bender trying to fast forward through an entire harvard's undergrad degree's worth of material in a week, and he ends up faceplanting on his desk. and then poor lando has to go and find a fresh chicken or something to kill and revive franco 'cus franco wore himself out too fast being a bb vampire with accelerated mind powers.

franco promises never to do that again (but of course he will continue to do it once in a while, and everyone still looks after him in his lil study hangovers because he is so very nice. also he taught them how to use venmo.)

and. one time. franco is like. "i can't find this rare sonnet do you know what library i could maybe locate it in" and lando is like "wait i know that one" and pulls out an honest to god original copy that he at some point got laminated in the early 80s. and franco is like. "um i think this should be in a museum??" and lando is like "yeah but i gave them a copy of this, cus i spilled ink on the corner of this in 1603 after a really good night out" and franco is like "???? ok ????"

then lando swans off to moodily stare at the moon or some shit.

[cupiare]

this school really deserves its impending doom bcs management is soooo tone deaf “but why do our students choose to go to uni in their own city and out of the 2 they choose the non russell group one why aren’t we doing something to support them to aim higher 🤔” could it possibly be that this school is in one of the most deprived areas of the city/nationwide and thats a significant factor affecting academic achievement so students default to the uni w lower entry requirements theyre likely to get into? or maybe that our predominantly immigrant students and their families don’t share the culture of moving out and living independently at 18? that their immigration status and overseas qualifications affect their entry requirements ? that many of them are responsible for their families and don’t want to leave them? that its more affordable to stay home and not be in even more debt by taking out a maintenance loan to stay alive? the girls who aren’t allowed to leave home before marriage? what a truly confounding phenomenon that our students don’t go to a russell group uni it must be a very bad look that we get 90% students in higher education or formal training after college but not the ‘best’ choice. But what do i know i guess !

[disneyprincemuke]

the overachiever * fem!driver

she's just a little competitive, that's all

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: YAUUUR i'm back with em femdriver updates dawg

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

oscar leans to the side as he avoids the ball hurled at him at seemingly an alarming rate — could have possibly taken his head off if he hadn’t moved fast enough — then turns back to the pair on the other side of the court. “oi!”

“loser!” she pumps her fist in the air and hops over to her teammate on her side of the court, hand lifted for a high-5. “do better.”

oscar rests a hand on his hip, chest heaving as he whirls around to where the ball had bounced to. “this was supposed to be a chill game. what is your problem?”

liam laughs, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back. he catches the girl’s hand and nods. “sore losers, aren’t they?”

“isn’t this your first time playing padel?” logan scowls. “how are you already so good at it?”

she shrugs as she puts her racket between her legs, readjusting her ponytail. “you know i can’t stand when i’m bad at things. of course, i prepared myself for today.”

when oscar had invited them out for a game of padel, he had expected it to be a first out of many short games. what nobody had expected, though, is for the girl — who claimed to know nothing of the sport just a week ago — to be absolutely dominating them on the court.

there is a reason they hadn’t invited the rest of their friends or anyone else from the grid. they just wanted to slowly take their time to learn the ropes of the game so that when the season goes underway, they don’t embarrass themselves when they get invited to games by other drivers.

but of course, the overachiever did her research and is already excelling to a certain extent. it’s just something they’d had to endure over the years: her in-explainable need to be good at everything immediately. if she’s not good at it from the get-go, she loses interest quickly.

“how? how could you have possibly prepared yourself for a game of padel? you didn’t even have a racket until 3 days ago,” logan scolds, throwing his arms in the air as the frustration slowly gets to him. there’s just something about her beating him in absolutely everything that’s sort of absurd. “i was literally with you when we went to get your stupid racket!”

“there’s this thing called youtube?” she hums with an eyebrow raised with the roll of her eyes. “and i asked fernando for some tips. so i’m kind of… like… a pro.”

“doesn’t make you a pro,” oscar scowls with a frown as he shakes his head. “makes you a bit of a nerd, though.”

“well i am graduating with a degree in information technology in a couple of months. so, perhaps, i could be a nerd,” she hums, with a giddy grin, “at least if the whole racing thing doesn’t work out… i have a way out. unlike you dropouts!”

“a woman in stem!” liam cheers. “if you graduate first class, i’ll buy you a car. what’s your current grades?”

she presses her lips together, nodding as she tries to formulate a plan for her education. “if i study harder for my final exam in a week, i could make that happen. i’m a pretty solid b grade student.”

“i meant a toy car, you freak,” liam frowns, scowling at her. “you think i’m getting paid loads as a reserve driver?”

“i overheard the team discussing you the other afternoon. who knows? we very well may be teammates next year.”

“i sure hope not,” logan butts in with a snort. “that wouldn’t do anyone any good — two idiots in the same team.”

she tilts her head, blinking innocently at him. “what do you mean? williams seems to be doing great with that kind of lineup this year.”

logan clenches his jaw, puckering his lips as he looks at her. “okay.”

“enough fighting,” oscar rolls his eyes. “ready to lose again, logan?”

the american sighs. “yeah, i guess.”

“god, don’t you know what a demonstration means?” max clutches his stomach, hunching over as the pain shoots through his torso. he watches the ball slowly bounce on the ground, right after hitting him in the stomach.

beside her, penelope giggles as she approaches max in concern. “are you okay, maxie?”

max shakes his head, glancing at the young child before dropping to his knees as he groans. “no, p. she bullied me!”

“she’s so strong!” penelope cheers, hopping over to the older girl with a screechy giggle. “but you should say sorry, maybe!”

“you’re right,” she grins, patting penelope on the head. “i’m sorry, max.” she leans down to max’s ear out of penelope’s hearing range. “that you got outplayed by a girl.”

max lifts his head to glare at her. they were just teaching penelope how to play football, the older girl describing earlier how to score effectively after she expressed interest in the sport. when she was asked to demonstrate the move, max didn’t expect her to kick the ball so hard.

“i knew that was coming. you’re so harsh!”

he was expecting a semi-strong kick to his stomach — something that he could catch and bear before they continued their small game of football. but no, she kicked the ball as hard as she could and almost incapacitated him.

though, perhaps incapacitated is too strong of a word. but he still does feel it in his gut, stumbling back in confusion when the ball came into contact with him.

can he really blame her, though? he sort of gets it: the need to be good at everything to please people. maybe it’s the eldest sibling trait.

“i was in varsity when i was in primary school,” she presses her lips together with a small smile. she holds her arms out to the younger girl and gestures towards her parent’s house. “i could get blythe to make us orange juice, p. do you want some?”

she sighs and drops her hands. “you can do better than that.”

logan drops his stance, his hands resting by the side of his body. “what do you mean? i don’t want to hit you so hard.”

“why? it’s not our first time sparring,” she scowls, wiping the side of her face on the sleeve of her shirt. she lifts her hands again, inside a pair of boxing gloves, and protects her face. “come on. hit me like you mean it.”

“i’m not going to hit you,” logan mutters. “we’re just warming up until benny and noah get here, right? that’s what you said.”

“yeah, but,” she darts a hand out, barely missing logan’s face when he leans back to avoid her punch, “i want a real challenge before they get here. come on, logan.”

but logan doesn’t fight back. instead, he takes several steps back when she tries to approach him, both arms darting out in an attempt to rile him up into a real spar.

“stop trying. i’m not doing this with you,” logan sighs, touching gloves with her everytime she tries to reach forward for him. “i know you were in martial arts growing up too, but i wasn’t. i’m just here because you asked me to be here.”

she grins. “exactly. so, fight back. don’t be a coward.”

“you’re not going to rile me up into a fight. i’m not you.”

“it works sometimes.” she dips down slightly and throws a punch into his stomach, prompting a huff as it hits him. “hit me back.”

“no way. stop asking me to do that.”

“coward.”

“okay.”

she touches his thigh with her feet, the taller boy stumbling slightly. “you’re just gonna let me do that to you? do something.”

“you’re not gonna get anything out of him.” a familiar voice makes both of you turn your head towards the door, benny walking in with a small smile and a gym bag over his shoulder. “very patient, this guy.”

“you clearly did not live in the same house as him for years,” she laughs, running over with her arms opens to get a hug. “will you spar with me until noah gets here? logan is so boring — he never hits me back.”

“hey!”

“sure! but you can’t cry when you lose.”

“maybe.”

sebastian tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “are you sure go-karting is what you wanna do over summer break? don’t you have other things to do?”

“we’ve done everything she wants to do,” oscar says begrudgingly as he puts his helmet on. “she cried this morning saying she misses racing.”

logan also looks tiredly at sebastian, shaking his head as he takes his helmet out of his bag. “i woke up to her sleeping on the couch hugging her helmet, by the way.”

the girl scoffs, punching logan’s arm as he unveils a secret he was sworn to never say to anybody else just this afternoon. “no, i was not!”

“ah, don’t be so shy about it,” sebastian smiles. “i also felt like that in my rookie year. all i could think of was being out on the track.”

“i guess i could study for my exams.” she exchanges glances with the 3 men around her before shrugging. “oh, well. time to race and beat your asses.”

“oh? you think you could be a 4-time world champion?” sebastian raises his eyebrows. “i’d like to see you try.”

“you clearly haven’t met me,” she hums, stopping in her track to turn around and face sebastian. she holds a hand out between them. “hi, i’m the most competitive girl you’ll ever meet. and i will beat you at go-karting today.”

while that doesn’t actually happen that evening, sebastian laughed as he climbed out of his go-kart at the end of their 10-minute race. she swears to him that someday she will be good enough to beat him in equal machinery (a go-kart).

which oscar begs to argue that she’s simply overdramatising the situation. but she just knows it’ll happen eventually.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

[susansontag]

my guide to lesbian anime both canonic and subtextual

(won’t include every lesbian anime ever, this is a personal list)

the canonic-gay section:

revolutionary girl utena

nothing before or since has ever done it like this. trigger warnings for everything imaginable. loads of homosexuals in this one. gender commentary, fairytale allusions, a lot of kids who are having a hard time growing up and moving beyond their pasts. sword lesbians.

flip flappers

the problematic favourite, in that there’s at least one uncomfortable sexualised shot each episode (roughly speaking; some have none and one has even more, unfortunately), so be warned. but at its heart flipflap is about repressed cocona going on adventures with outgoing and expressive papika, and their exploration of various fantastical lands/inner worlds of people they meet. hugely inventive and pretty, and a core thread is cocona discovering she’s gay.

aoi hana (‘sweet blue flowers’)

the comfort lesbian show, with not a romantic relationship at its heart, but a friendship between two childhood friends who meet again, both of whom are gay (though only one realises this during the show’s run, as it’s based on a manga). one of them dates an upperclassman at her school, and there’s various gay and bi side characters. it’s just very wholesome, lovingly animated, sweet and sometimes painful stuff.

bloom into you

I controversially do not care that much for bloom into you, but as the best, high-production, non-skeevy yuri show in years - that is based on a manga by a woman - it’s worth mentioning. late-bloomer girl dreams of romance, though has never felt it, and finds affinity with a girl who similarly is disinclined to date. that is, until said girl says she fancies her. genuinely moving exploration of developing gay identity at times, only downside is my personal disinterest in the black haired girl. some weird ‘heightened’ moments that feel inauthentic and titillating do arise, but it’s very few - to the point where some would disagree with me on my reading of it, I’d imagine.

sailor moon

the bits which the lesbians are in, etc. it’s a classic. I haven’t watched all of it myself because I don’t care much nor do I have nostalgia for sailor moon, but it’s one of the most notable examples of a butch/masc lesbian in anime, so that’s nice.

o maidens in your savage season

nerdy teenage girls who are part of a literature club make it their quest to discover sex and dating, in various ways (unfortunately, not all of them dealt with well… teacher/student foolery that is fortunately abandoned before it gets worse but is nonetheless handled with mixed results, imo). mostly though it’s hilarious, sweet, silly, and there’s a gay girl in it, but I won’t spoil which one. adults predating on children is also handled much, much better in another of the show’s storylines, and I do appreciate it for trying to tackle that difficult subject matter.

oniisama e (‘dear brother’)

an oldie, based off a shoujo manga by one of the greatest (riyoko ikeda). there’s a central relationship to root for (better articulated in the manga), but it’s mostly just what if we were messy depressed lesbians at an all-girls school and we were also melodramatic and mean as hell.

revue starlight

what if we were at an all-girls dramatic arts school and engaged in utena-like duels to become the top performer? main implicitly gay couple with canonic side gay couples. it’s quite cute. also worth watching if you like takarazuka in any way (prestigious all-female japanese theatre troupe), because the main conceit of the school is very much based on that idea.

the gay-themes section:

sound! euphonium (season one)

in which director naoko yamada’s awesome legacy of writing lesbians and then saying “who’s to say though, ha ha” continued (she did it already with a side character in tamako market). this one is known as the gaybait to end all gaybait, but hear me out: the first, and best, season, is not only a fantastic self-contained story with many great characters and plot points, but it’s main character is undoubtedly lesbian-coded and even has a love interest you can argue about. frankly I think she’s gay-coded throughout the whole show (even when she dates a guy for two minutes), but this feels very “I wanted to focus on this compelling relationship between two female characters but the adaptation’s success meant we had to revert back to the source material in later seasons”. what we got from this is perhaps my favourite lesbian anime of all-time, following utena.

a place further than the universe

this show is about four girls who join an expedition to antarctica, and what if I told you they’re all great, believable dorky teenage characters, and they exist in a well-written and thematically satisfying show… and there’s nice lesbian implication between one of our adult female protagonists and her old (deceased; not a spoiler) friend who was the main teen girl’s mother. there’s some sad here, obviously.

puella magi madoka magica

the well-known, much beloved deconstruction of the magical girl genre is also pretty gay, as it happens (so gay in fact it started a trend of gay-coded pink+black magical girls). it’s not a particular favourite of mine, but it’s visually one of the most notable anime productions ever, so it’s well worth seeing just for that.

NANA

the 2000s manga+show about the two twenty-year-olds who meet on a train and discover they’re both called nana is also pretty gay! to the point where there are heated fandom debates about nana komatsu’s (pink one) possibly being a lesbian. they both have many relationships with guys, but it’s their bond that forms the heart of the show, and the bisexuality (or, who knows, homosexuality) of the leads is pretty undeniable. to the point where you’ll get blasted on the nana subreddit if you try and suggest otherwise.

the wild-card section:

keep your hands off eizouken!

this is a show about three oddball girls who start a club to create anime, but have to pose as the film club instead for various reasons. it’s not even subtextually gay, I just personally think that all three of the leads are gay and the whole thing feels like a very female-centred creative endeavour. hugely fun watch, and very high production values. you wouldn’t regret seeing it.

skip & loafer

these two you see here are side characters. this show is actually about mitsumi, the greatest female protagonist of this kind of shoujo-esque slice of life show, who moves from the countryside to tokyo for high school. here she meets many a misfit, including the pretty blonde and the nerd girl who have undeniable chemistry and form one of the most popular pairings in the show. it’s just a good time.

chihayafuru

I’d get in trouble for this, because the primary romance factor in the show is a famed heterosexual love triangle with chihaya at its centre and her two male childhood friends at the side. but go with me on this. chihaya is oblivious to romance and feminine socialisation, she is obsessed with a card game and with her equally dorky dark-haired rival… she’s anime’s greatest autistic lesbian lead. and you get more than what you pay for, because the two boys I mentioned? a lot of gay stuff going on there too.

the big-screen-cinematic section:

the adolescence of utena

revolutionary girl returns in the sequel of a lifetime, slightly older (sixteen, say) and gayer than ever, to escape this place with the love of her life. cue the impromptu dance sequence (with stars and rose petals)!

liz and the blue bird

the naoko yamada directed gay cinematic universe continues with a gorgeous film starring two of the side characters from sound! euphonium’s second season (not necessary to watch beforehand). that means it has plausible deniability whilst being so crazily gay it’s almost some kind of joke. this is a highly detailed, laser-focused character study of two girls in their high school band club and their ever more strained relationship. yamada never misses.

the summer

this is korean! it’s about two girls who meet at school and start dating in secret, what happens as they grow up and move to seoul, and how their relationship changes and strains when met with the conservatism of contemporary korean society. it was sweet and like aoi hana above for japanese girls, felt pretty frank to the experiences I’d imagine young korean lesbians might have.

puella magi madoka magica: rebellion

if you’re a fan of the show, you probably don’t talk about this movie. sure, it’s a visual feat, sure, it’s insanely entertaining, but it’s also frustrating and upsetting and potentially undermines the neatness of the original as a perfectly-crafted story. BUT. kyouko/sayaka becomes all but canon in it, and everything else aside, that’s all that really matters. but you should definitely watch the show beforehand.

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 4

Back <- | -> Next

The Cycles never "loaded" back in at quite the same point. It was something I had noticed, though I had only suffered a few of them so far. It was like the God's were hoping "Chapter" to "Chapter", fickle and easily bored, trying desperately to find something NEW.

It made planning all but impossible.

Where... where was I?

A simple room. A suitcase before me. Loading or unloading? I held a robe in my hands. Painfully familiar. I had worn them for years. The highly protective robes of Mage initiates, at the Magic Tower. Meant to work as armor, life support, even... God's forbid, an emergency beacon. They were hideous. Function over form.

I could cry, for how deeply I loved these ugly robes.

No one had EVER been able to figure out how to style them properly. God's know, we had TRIED. But when The Dark came? This ugly, ugly things? These long complained about hand-me-downs? Oh... oh they had saved so, SO many student's lives.

Such tiny little things. Pulled from the rubble, still breathing. All because of these chaotic, gaudy, terribly comfortable and so deeply loved, old robes. T...They truely were as hideous as I remembered, weren't they? Blocks upon blocks of overlapping stitches and patches, too many colors, as though the tower was too stubborn to throw as single thing away.

We were.

We... we NEVER leave anything or anyONE behind.

Packrats, all of us. Such terrible hoarders. But... I looked around. It did not tell me the date. Was I leaving? Joining the tower? How old was I supposed to be? I pulled on my robes.

It felt like coming home. Like balm against the raw nerves of my still fragile mind. I felt old. Brittle. At... at terrible odds, with my young skin. I wondered if this was how she felt. The woman, the poor girl, that came before me. Before she broke so badly even the God's could not force her to perform. I did not want to admit I understood the impulse.

Ah, there.

I had once, what felt like lifetimes ago. What WAS lifetimes ago. Bought this very calander. It was cute. Little fairy dragons danced upon the edges, delicate and joyous. They were, of course, incorrectly drawn. The artist had never seen a real fairy dragon, only heard of them. I had seen some during the war.

People forget that neither the Fae nor Dragons are sweet or gentle things.

They were... Awe inspiring. In the oldest sense of the world. "An overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, and fear." I believe the text defined it. Like living starlight and glass, sung poetry and water. They were the fury of long dead gods and the vengeance of beings who were divine unto themselves.

They removed an entire MOUNTAIN RANGE before they fell. Burned and reduced to molten earth, an entire inland sea. They died like STARS. Violently and with a force that destroyed the void itself. Consuming all that dared stand in their shadow.

Ha. And people think they're CUTE.

Ah...my mind is wandering again. I try to concentrate on the calendar. My... my mind doesn't want too. Oh dear. That's... that's probably a rather bad sign, isn't it?

Opening my eyes at the beginning of the cycle had brough such... CLARITY. As though my head had been held under murky water and finally, FINALLY, I was able to scramble free. But... much like the drowned... I felt something like a high. Adrift. Without my anchor. I wanted my Gran-...

NO.

I grab the dresser before me. Hard enough my knuckles go white. My wide eyes focus far away. Seeing without seeing. Hyperfocused on the woodgrain before me. I am my OWN anchor. Feel the magic in your veins. The push and pull of the world. We are not his slave! Not his PET, to keep and cherish. A toy on a shelf.

I am a PERSON.

I DEFY MY FATE.

A cheerful knock at the door to my room. My eyes finally focusing on the date. Fuck. Moving IN, then. I do not know if I can act "normal". I... I will have to try. I can not unclench my jaw, but with great force of will, finger by finger, I release my grip on the dresser. Stand up. Glance up into the mirror.

I look like I am some hateful little thing, vowing some ugly little vengeance. Perhaps it is just my face. The way anger and spite only barely holds my bleeding edges together. My fear. I...I look like I am about to cry.

What a wretched child.

I try to force a smile.

It looks hideous. More ugly grimace and deep disgust then "oh, Master, how pleased I am to see you!". Fuck. When did I become so broken? A knock again. More hesitant. I breathe deep. I can not do cheerful, then. But...I... I can do nothing.

My face slides into an emotionless mask. Blank. Like a doll. Vaguely pleasant but meaningless. How damningly familiar. Gran-... HE reduced me to this in the end. A few steps. Almost distant, robotic, movement. And I open the door to a once familiar face.

"Learner." My Master smiles, awkward and uncertain. He had not wanted a student. I forced his hand. I know now I never should have done so. He was not ready. "Are you, um, settling? In? I know it is quite different from the life you once lived, but I promise. I will tale care of you. Well figure this out together."

Oh, Master.

I...I wish I could weep. I had forgotten this lie. How deeply I had once believed it. It was a child's promise, from a man who grew old but never, truely, grew up. I was to be failed again and again. Had once given him chance after chance. Because I had believed his words. My eyes feel hot. He looks panicked.

"Ah! W-what did I do? Was that wrong? Please don't cry?! Oh no! Uuuuh-!"

"Well THIS is a record. Not even a day and you've made the child weep." Comes a terrible voice. No. Please, Gods. Not so soon. "Here I am, come to greet my precious Grandlearner. And what do I find? My student, tormenting a child."

My Master sputters defenses of himself. Not even noticing that his own Master did not call him Learner. All but disowned him before me. My fear howls like a deafening beast in my ears. But... cowering? Will not... can not save me. Turning my head is almost painful, with how tightly my muscles have tensed.

That is not the look of a man who does not recognize me.

He remembers.

Alaric Blight stands in truely magnificent Tower Master's robes, as though he has every right to be there. Respected. Beloved. A legendary talent, the likes of which have not been seen for lifetimes. ANYONE would be HONORED to be in his presence. After all... he is a man who holds the world at his feet.

He is a monster.

"Hello Grandlearner," he all but purrs. Stalking forward to loom, as only an adult CAN loom over a child. The power difference between is even greater now. I can not even count myself an ant before him. I... I can not breathe. "What a delicate little thing you are. Utterly precious. And so SMALL! You certainly have a lot of training to do, don't you?"

His hand reaches forward to cup my cheek, sparks of deadly magic dancing lazily across my skin too finely for Master to notice, but not so fine I can not FEEL. It is a subtle threat. A little reminder. Not a single soul in this tower is safe, so long as he is here. All it would take? Is.. Just. One. Touch~

"I'm sure you'll BEHAVE for your Master, WONT you, Dear? After all, he only wants what's best for you. And a darling child like you, Grandlearner? Should be cherished."

"He's right." My Master said, clueless to the monster he let so close. Who so very dispised him. "But... but Master, I'm not sure, well, HOW exactly..."

"Oh don't worry, student of mine." Alaric Blight, monster of my nightmares, hummed in a laughable mimicry of pleasantries. "I'll be with you EVERY step of the way. How could do anything less? We'll train my darling Grandlearner together."

A terrible grin.

"Leave everything to me."

[tookthe-405]

VBS

Chapter 2 (part 2)

Love me Anyway ~Chappell roan

DAILY CLICK🇵🇸 DONATE ON

LINKS🍉🍉 GOFUND.ME!

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: i just really wanted to show what happens after the "prank"

summary: you grew up religious without questions adn in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

The night was very stressful, for you and for Ellie. While you couldn't sleep because guilt was eating you up from the inside, Ellie couldn't sleep because because the excitement of seeing the pastor's face kept her brain up. You'd be lying if you said you didn't regret anything, because you do. Just not enough to tell anyone.

If you could have ratted out Ellie, everyone would know that it was done out of manipulation, even if that's really not the case.

Ellie isn't manipulating you, you're just under her spell. And you're pretty sure she doesn't know anything about it, so how manipulative can it be?

This morning you got up earlier than everyone else. you hardly slept at all and only listened your heartbeat getting faster and faster. Around 4 a.m. you dozed off, but it was more of an uncomfortable half-sleep. You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about the many years before, where you would´ve been scared of Ellie, afraid of being thrown out of camp and losing the respect of the church.

That fear still exists, but you no longer felt it in your blood, because no matter what happened you would find a place, maybe even the one where you belong. It would also be nice if Ellie would be part of this place.

After the sermon in the morning, buses arrived at the youth hostel to take you to the small town that was half an hour away. Hood River was a small town in Oregon and you visit it at least twice a year to talk to people about God. In fact, there are already many believers there, but Pastor Toby is never really satisfied with this small town, as if he has a private dispute with the pretty place.

You were still outside and waiting for the bus with Ellie and the others, when you saw the many group leader loading the candied apples into a separate car. The reality of the prank hit you again.

But Ellie calmed you down and told you and the girls about the many crazy pranks that the middle school students had pulled at her school.

She seemed to be fitting into the group more and more, changing parts and information about herself to fit into the picture and it made you a little sad to know it. Having to watch it.

Ellie is great exactly the way she is, she shouldn't have to change. In no world she should ever feel out of place.

After the trip, the organization started. The town is a bit big, but you already know where Christians live and you only go to the houses where non-religious people opened the door last year, or closed it again very quickly.

"We're taking over the lover lane and we´ll just move forward to the eugene street," announces Louisa, who has completely prepared for today.

She goes ahead with a city map and lots of candied apples in her cloth bag.

"Ellie, I have such a bad feeling about this"

"It's all good, we haven't been anywhere yet."

When you arrived on the quiet street, the mid-20-year-old explained that it would be smarter if everyone answered the doors one at a time, as it would be quicker that way.

"Does everyone know their sayings and verses?" Sometimes, Hazel seems more professional than Louisa herself.

"Yes Hazel, how dare we forget it" ellie sighs

the curly haired girl almost hisses at Ellie.

"We'll meet everyone here again when you're done with your houses."

You all split up into parts and the thought of being separated from Ellie makes you incredibly nervous.

The first house is house number 10.

The house itself looks peaceful. Blue painted, with the American flag proudly hoisted and a car parked in front yard.

You go through all the steps again.

ask if they believe in the lord

if not, try to demonstrate that god can help in every situation

help through bible verses

distribute the message of the church

deliver the (poisoned) apples

Great.

Your fist hits the brown wooden door, not too quietly and not too loud. You could see Ellie grinning in front of you and talking about God whether she really meant it or not.

“Hello?”

you quickly put on a smile.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, I’m part of the community a little further south of here and wanted to ask if you’ve already found your way to jesus?"

You notice that Christians always talk in "Not yet" Terms.

As if we expect every person to find god one day, and the ones that haven´t already are just behind in life.

How annoying it must be to have a stranger to dictate your future.

"ok sweetie i have, but i still worry daily"

That suprises you, normaly the answer is just yes or no. But this lady is ready for a whole conversation on her foot step.

"What kind of worries?"

"i always did what god told me to do and i think i did a good job, but my poor son just doesn´t follow him. I swear i thaught him better! Now he has children who don´t belive and follow jesus path and i dont want them to go to hell!"

The older woman sighs sadly, at the edge of tears.

You´re not really sure what to say to her.

"well i´m positive that god will show himself to every human at some point. Maybe that just hasn´t happened to you family yet?"

The woman turns back slightly and screams a boys name into the house.

"im sorry young lady, but my grandchild is over for the summer and i really want him to hear this"

She squeals in delight, but your blood freezes. It feels as if the child's entire future is in your hands and you briefly thought about handing out the apple now so that she would just throw you out.

"Oh God, this child! Please come in, miss."

That's not on your list of things to do, but something makes your legs wander in anyway.

You can hardly say no now.

"Just sit down, sweetie, I'll get him out of the garden for a moment."

You nod to her and turn your head around the room. Everything looks very… old and religious.

Out of respect, you take off your shoes in the hallway and see that the old woman has slippers just like your grandparents. Large, heavy leather slippers.

The house was definitely old and you wonder if maybe her husband built it. The wallpaper is new, or at least in very good condition, but the old wood on the door frame shows the true age of the house.

You hesitantly sit down on an old chair at the round dining table and peek into the old woman´s kitchen.

Overall, a beautiful house, made for a child's summer, but looks can be deceiving.

You're just staring at the little cross on the wall. For a moment you feel very watched, but you shake the anxious thoughts out of your mind and concentrate again on the here and now.

"Come on! It won't take long, darling."

A young boy sits down on the opposite end of the table, probably not older than 10.

He doesn't feel like being here. Ellie would like him.

You quickly unpack your little Bible and introduce yourself to the boy. He doesn't say anything and just stares at you silently.

His grandma snorts. "unbelieveble, his name is Marcus"

You nod slowly and realize how uncomfortable this situation is.

How are you supposed to convince Marcus, who would rather play outside, to believe in God? The fuck thinks his grandma who you are.

"Well Marcus, your grandma wanted me to tell you about how much God loves you and how much he wants you to be with him at the end of your life-"

"I don't care"

"what"

"I don't want to hear it, grandma!"

His grandmother looks at you forgivingly, but you can also see a desperate pleading.

"Young man-"

"What is that?"

You follow his, finger pointing to the floor where the basket full of garnished apples lies.

"Oh that-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Now would actually be a good time to die, or at least to be dragged out of this house, by someone who finally realized how cursed this whole mission was from the start

"cool! can i have one"

Marcus suddenly seemed to have found his concentration and respect again. His grandmother also looks at you expectantly.

"Sure."

you slowly take out a wrapped apple, silently hoping that Ellie will breaks into the building and tells you that it's all over. You hand him the apple on a stick and just hope that he isn't hungry yet.

"What the dear lady wants to say is that you should give the lord a chance. He loves you very much and absolutely doesn't want you to end up in eternal fire for-."

You nod very slowly and stare at that damn apple. Poor Marcus. The old woman drives forward.

"What your father taught you is-"

The boy bites into the apple with a grin and it takes exactly 2 seconds until he spits it out again.

You grimace with a sigh.

"Fuck"

"excuse you!"

The Grandma stares at you in disbelief, you worry for a moment whether her old googly eyes might fall out and you imagine how she looks at her grandson like that, every day when he forgets to say amen at the end of a prayer.

Luckily for you, he also starts crying and you probably underestimated his age a bit, or he's just way too dramatic

"what's wrong honey?"

"um i need to go, have a good day"

like a reflex you get up, put your church's contact details on the table and run down the narrow, old but young hallway, put your shoes back on and run out of the house.

Summer air blows through your hair. You seem to have lost all control over your legs because you run and run and run, even when the American flag is nothing more than a small mixture of red, white and blue.

For some reason you suddenly think about a summer with oranges and ellie, another world who is so possible but yet so far away from reality, it almost makes you cry.

The many colors of the houses fly past you and you just grab your bag tighter, so that those shitty apples don't fall out and someone else has to eat them.

You don't even notice where you are until you find the roundabout who lead to the many streets.

"God.." You take a breath over and over again, resting your arms on your knees, but your lungs seem to be allergic to air because it feels like nothing is getting in.

"Hey…"

A hand on your shoulder and you jump back, a small scream leaving your lips, worried that the old lady might have followed you.

Red hair, green eyes and freckles.

Your hand is on your chest and you are breathing deeply and quickly.

Your eyes eat each other up and you are sure that you have never had such an intimate relationship with anyone else in the world.

Thank you so much for being here, for playing a role in my life and for not just being a nameless girl.

She looks at you, the sweat on your forehead and your loose shoes that you probably didn't even tie.

God, does she even know how precious she is to you?

"You scared me"

"I noticed, sorry…"

After a few moments you feel like there was enough eye contact, even though you're pushing for more, so you look away. Pay attention to anything else, the birds in the background, the lake that you can almost see from here or all those American flags.

"Sit down first, you're about to fall over"

Ellie gently grabs your hand. Your hands aren't really linked, she just grabs yours and leads you both to the side of the street, to a small bench.

"It worked, by the way. The apples taste really bad."

Ellie chuckles next to you and lets go of your hand, why does she have to do that?

"I know, a guy almost set his dog on me when he tried one. He was such a disgusting creep, who probably hasn’t showered in days and he was standing in front of me in my bathrobe."

That makes you laugh.

"Those are always the worst. They made little boy cry… he was really mean, but I still feel kinda bad. He didn’t want to listen to anything I said about god”

"Funny guy" Ellie replies and you smile shamelessly at her from the side.

Then she clears her throat and looks forward again.

"I'm sorry if I… dragged you into this. I didn't mean to force you to do anything."

You're now holding her hand, that's resting on her knee.

"You didn't force me to do anything Ellie, you gave me something I always wanted as a child"

"To make a boy cry?"

“Freedom,” you correct her, grinning.

She smiles shyly back and you watch intently as her cheeks become redder and redder. How beautiful this life is!

"Hey guys!"

as quickly as it happened, you take your hand away again and even Ellie slips a little further away from you, still red.

Kate walks down the street towards you with a weak body.

"There's something wrong with these apples"

Thanks for reading and for all the sweet comments and reposts!! Somehow I can’t comment anywhere, not even in my own posts and tumblr won’t help me fix this 😭

by the way, i realised that "tobi" (the pastors name) is fucking german and that in english its toby, so i changed that so sorry guys.

But it means "god is good" which i find pretty fitting

But a biggg thank you to anyone who reads and enjoys my story’s it means a lot to me🫶🫶

Don’t forget to interact with the links!!!!

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bellaramseysgirlfriend @sonthingwithl @vi0lentb3rry @elliewilliamsblunt @be3flow3r @adelaide013 @abbysbraids @liasxeatt @jungkook-37

[wintervalewritersecond]

weathervane - xavier thorpe

requested: sort of! requests: open! i am begging for literally any kinda of xavier fluff 😭 can be fluffy fluff, hurt/comfort idc i love it all. i have no specific ideas i’m just desperate for more xavier

A/N: its not very original or special, but i hope you like it <3 not a lot of plot, just fluff <3

wordcount: 1,517 warnings: tyler is a bit of an ass, outreach day, she/her pronouns for reader, fluff

Xavier had gotten 'Weathervane' as his volunteer job for Outreach day. You, his normie girlfriend, decided to keep him company while he works.

"Oh my god," Xavier groans when he opens the blue envelope. "I got the Weathervane."

He has not stepped foot in that shop ever since Tyler and his friends tried to beat him up.

"Dude, can we trade?"

Ajax looks up from his own paper. He was actually quite excited about his offer. Uriah's heap. It was some kind of freaky store with loads of taxidermy. He hopes that Enid has the same pick. No way would he trade his volunteer job. For the Weathervane, you need people skills, and even if you don't have those, there will still be loads of people in there.

"I can't man," Ajax shrugs. "What if one of the snakes comes out and I accidentally stone someone trying to get a coffee? Besides, why don't you just invite your girlfriend to hang out with you?"

He immediately texted you afterward, asking what you were up to and if you were willing to keep him some company while he works. If he would be left there with Tyler, there surely would be some type of fight.

You immediately agreed. You had a day off from school anyway, as you were supposed to visit some of the places where the Nevermore students volunteer. Something about testing them, although some of your classmates also went only to bully them.

Xavier had already been working for two hours, having to start at 10:00 in the morning. A machine had broken, so he had to use Google Translate to get it working again while Tyler cleaned the rest of the restaurant. After that, he got lectured on how to perfectly pour coffee into a mug. Not his thing. After today, he probably can't even stand the smell of coffee at all. Before this, he used to love drinking coffee, but in the last two hours, he already downed four cups.

When the little bell above the Weathervane door tinkles, he doesn't even flinch. Who knew that in two hours, there could already be tens of people that hopped in for a coffee.

He is wiping the tables and collecting mugs when he hears a familiar voice.

"Hi!"

You stand at the register, a smile on your face and a bag on your shoulders. A smile immediately makes its way onto Xavier's face as well. Thank God, he isn't stuck with only Tyler anymore.

He immediately hops over to the cash register before Tyler can, leaning on his elbows with a grin on his face.

"Can I offer you a hot chocolate? On me."

You snort as you look at your boyfriend. You wouldn't often go to Weathervane by yourself, but you just wanted to hang out with him. There are not a lot of moments where you can really see Xavier. Not only do you attend different schools, but no one is supposed to leave or go to Nevermore without a proper chaperone.

"Sure," you smile before sitting down in a booth hidden in the corner.

It is right next to some sort of cork board which is filled with random pins and notes. You unpack some of your things. One activity you always love to do is drawing, which is the exact thing that was the start of your relationship with Xavier. The entire Weathervane was filled with people, and the only empty seat was across from him. It was cold outside and you craved your favorite warm beverage, so after mustering up some courage, you asked if you could sit by him.

He was confused at first. Most people in the shop avoided him like the Plague. They knew he went to Nevermore, so they wanted nothing to do with him except to spit on his table or 'accidentally' kick his bag. He moved his sketchbook to the side before nodding, allowing you to sit across from him.

The two of you started talking as you also grabbed your own sketchbook, doodling away as your hot chocolate got placed next to you. He showed you some of his art as you showed yours.

"I can show you something," he then whispered before pointing his fingers to the page.

He had drawn a spider on it, but before you could even blink, it started moving. The spider went in a circle on the table, his legs moving in a slow way before it crawls back onto the page. You had never seen something like it. Your mouth had fallen open as you looked from his hand to the sketchbook.

After that, you hung out together as much as you could. Be it at your house, his art studio, or somewhere in Jericho.

"One hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel toppings."

You look up at Xavier who is standing next to you with a big grin as he places the drink on the table.

The day went by fast. For you, at least. At some points during the day, Xavier would subtly move his hand to make your drawings move, distracting you from whatever it was you were drawing. He also refilled your cup multiple times. You had taken a break from sitting in the Weathervane, taking an hour to stretch your legs and buying a sandwich from the shop nearby. Tyler didn't let Xavier have any breaks, so he must be hungry by now.

When you come back, you see your backpack in the same position. Xavier told you that he would keep an eye on it, that way you didn't have to carry around a huge bag with you. At the register are three boys, standing with their arms crossed and sour looks on their faces.

"We don't want a freak to serve us. What did you do to Tyler, huh?"

Xavier rolls his eyes before leaning over the register a bit.

"That lazy shit is taking his fourth break for the day. So, either I help you, or you have to wait until he is back."

One of the guys scoffs, looking at the rest of his friends.

"You hear that? A freak is cussing at us normies. Maybe we should teach him a lesson!"

You clear your throat as you stand behind the three, making them look down at you.

"Y/N!" They were your classmates. "I wouldn't go here if I was you. I don't know what this freak did to Tyler, but for the last few minutes that I was here, I haven't heard from him or seen him. Not to mention..."

He points to your bag.

"This freak here insists that he is just watching it, but we all know he stole it. Say the words, and I will beat him up."

You avert your gaze from the boy before loudly ringing the small bell that stands on the counter. After ten times, Tyler immediately emerges from the back.

"Oh, Tyler!" You say with a sickly sweet voice. "Something horrible happened and I need to take Xavier with me! You can handle Weathervane by yourself, right?"

Tyler has always had a weak spot for you. It annoyed you, but the least you could do is use it to get Xavier out of this building.

"Please? It is an emergency!"

"I uh- Yeah. Yeah, go ahead."

You grab your bag before taking Xavier's hand in yours, pulling him out of the store. When you are out of Tyler's sight, you both burst out laughing.

"What dumbasses they are!"

Xavier nods, he totally agrees. He is happy that you got him out of there. The two of you head to the center of the city. There are chairs set up there anyway, as a new Crackstone statue would be introduced in only an hour.

"I can't believe he didn't even give me a break," he groans. "I had to do all the work, I couldn't even eat-"

You immediately hold up the brown paper bag. The smell of sandwiches enters Xavier's nose as he gasps. He takes hold of the bag, seeing two sandwiches neatly packaged.

"Oh my god, I love you so much."

You take both out, giving him one while taking a bite of your own. It is the least you could do for him. You are already happy enough that you got to spend some time with him today, even if it meant having to run into your asshole classmates.

More and more of the chairs get filled up as Nevermore students finish their volunteering jobs.

The unveiling of the statue went as wrong as it could be. You don't know who did it, but the statue caught fire, making everyone evacuate the field. Xavier grabs your hand, pulling you away from the heat while laughing. You look up at him once you're safe from the fire. The only normie that stood with a Nevermore kid. But you couldn't really care less. If anything, Nevermore is interesting.

Xavier presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling down at you as you can only stare back lovingly. You can't believe that he is all yours.

It is never a dull day with a Nevermore kid around.

[fartstories]

School boy fart torture

School boy f t

It was the second day of 12th grade and all his friends were on a different bus. This bus was for students who lived farther away, a.k.a. Alex and his 3 tormentors. He didn't have very many friends ,however, because he was a naturaly shy boy. Since he was the first student to be picked up, he got to choose between any seat. He sat all the way in the back, since hoping to be left alone. He silently looked out the window as the bus began moving. He began to drift off into a light sleep until the bus came to a halt, and the rusty doors squeaked open. Since he sat in the back, he had a pretty good view of the boys climbing onto the bus. The first was Derek, a gay friend of his. Alex and Derek used to be really close friends, that is, until Derek's new friends started to find farting on Alex a fun thing to do. Derek walked onto the bus and didn't even notice Alex, before sitting down way in the front. Derek had brown eyes and black hair, wore a new pair skinny jeans everyday. His gas usually smelled pretty bad, but he barley ever farts on Alex. When he wasn't around the others, He would usually flirt with Derek, but for some odd reason, he completely ignored Derek's presence today. After Derek settled down, the door began to close. The doors then stopped halfway closed and opened back up, allowing Matthew to get on. Matthew didn't usually come in until after Jared, thier group's leader. The two must have had a sleepover. Matthew, with blue eyes and blonde hair, wore loose sweatpants like he did every day. Matthew's farts never smelled too bad, but he always had so much gas. Matthew nearly sat down beside Derek, until he looked at the back and noticed Alex "Oh I ook who's chilling in the back Almost didn't notice him!" Matthew said tapping Derek on the shoulder. Alex quickly slid to the window, even though the two had already seen him. "Hey cutie!" Derek said, sitting right beside Alex. Matthew walked over and punched Alex in the arm. Alex didn't resist. "You get to start with me today, buddy!" Matthew mocked as he aimed his butt at Alex's face."We had loads of pizza last night - PPPFFFFFRRRRRRTTTTTTT!

Could you tell? BLRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!" Alex could tell from the first silent fart, but he hadn't been able to place what it was! All he knew is that he was facing Matthew's farts on one of his smellier days! As Matthew farted a fourth time, Alex held back groans. Matthew farted frequently but wasn't going all-out; nevertheless it became harder and harder for Alex to stay still and calm. Derek stood back and watched this time. Like I said earlier, he's the nice one. As the farts kept flooding in, Alex drew closer and closer to passing out! However, he was saved - ironically - by the arrival of his third tormentor, Jared. As Jared approached his friends, Matthew asked, "Got any farts for loser here?""Nah, I used most of it on Nick." Nick was Jared's smaller brother who endured most of Jared's farts on weekends."' do have a good one brewing up, though!" Jared blurted. As those words came out of Jared's mouth, Alex felt. ...a stiffening in his crotch. He didn't think of himself as completely gay, but Jared and his gas made him a little excited at times. "Okay, let it rip!" Matthew said, getting off backing off of Alex's face. "Hold him down." Jared told his friends. Matthew held down Alex's arms, but Derek continued to stand there. "Derek, get his legs!" Jared said, in a more menicing tone. With one glare into Derek's eyes, Jared convinced Derek to hold Alex's legs down. with a satisfied face, Jared slammed his butt into the small face of Alex. Alex didn't show it, but he inhaled deeply. Jared sighed before his six-second fart began, coming out in little pops that smacked against Alex's nose. It certainly sounded very funny because Derek and Matthew were giggling their butts off. Of course, Alex wasn't laughing. He was too distracted by his croth that slowly grew by the second. He acted like he was glad that Trevor had taken the brunt of Jared's gas; but deep down Alex knew that he was jealous."I have two cartons of milk in my bag! Jared said as he pushed rose up off of Alex's face. Jonathan was know for bad milk - farts. "Oh man, you should see what I have in my lunchbox!" Matthew exclaimed while he sat on Alex's stomach; it was Derek's turn to sit on his face. Derek walked over to Alex's face and planted a kiss on his cheek before sitting on his face. He just released a squeaky, yet airy fart on his face. It wasn't so much the sound as it was the smell - it was one of those rare otherworldly fart that stank worse than the Devil's front porch! Alex groaned loudly as that monsterous fart invaded his nostrils, then started struggling to hide his 'excitement' as Derek started a chain of ten farts, with Matthew planting three more on his stomach. It was so bad that by the time the school bus had arrived at the school, Alex's was dizzy and he had lost feeling in a few parts of his body. As soon as everyone got off the bus, Alex rearranged his pants so that his 'little friend' was no longer visible. As he staggered off the school bus, he caught sight of his close friend, Victor. Victor took one look at Alex's face as he approached and asked, "How bad were they on there?" Alex laughed and responded with a "Perfect." Home economics was their sixth period, and they were finally finished cooking. Victor wasn't in this class with his friend, so Alex was alone, and forced to watch Jared, Derek and Matthew laughing at him on the other side of the class. While preparing their assignment, the three bullies slapped each others' behinds delibrately, teasing Alex. They also let out a few wet bombs while the teacher was gone. They teased Alex, while Alex was forced to hide his head on behind the counter. When class was finally over, the three torturers dragged Alex into the boys bathroom and bolted the door so they wouldn't be interrupted. "You hungry boy?" Jared asked. "Derek, how about you whip up a nice big fart for our captive here." FAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT!!!!!!

While Derek released his warm fart into Alex's face, Jared and Matthew removed their pants and exposed their small, cute, round, butts. Meanwhile, Derek had his way with alex, slapping his face from side to side with his ass. Alex tried to hide the excitement in his pants as he released his smelly farts. "Don't hog this bitch for yourself," jared ordered, and slammed his perfect ass onto Alex's face. Alex tried to hide his excitement as the sound of Jared's perfect farts were released onto his face. He inhaled deeply, and his cock hardened at the smell of rotten eggs filling his nose. "You..." FAAARRRRT!!! "Like .." FAAAARRRRT!!!! "That..." FAAAARRRRT!!!! "Bitch?" Jared farted between each world while his cohorts held Alex down by his hands and feet. Jared's butt was the roundest, sexiest, and smelliest ass ever. Alex couldn't help but sniff each fart deeply from his bare hole. But then Jared looked down and saw the bulge in Alex's pants that he was trying to hide. "Well lookie here! Alex has a boner!" Jared says as he got off of Alex. The other 2 tormenters saw this as well and laughed. "Do you like it when we torment you with our asses?" Jared asked Alex. Alex is filled with too much fear to speak, but his visible groin growth speaks volumes. The sound of booming laughter came from all three boys as they did pushed their backs together, standing in a triangle formation, and sat upon Alex's face. Alex struggled to breathe with the three hottest asses on his face alone, but to have each one ripping smelly gas made things so much worse...and better. Since these beefed up bullies knew Alex's enjoyment of this torture, Alex felt no humiliation as he moaned for the bullies to fart. The mixture of stenches coated Alex's tiny face, until finally Jared decided to go solo. He released about 50 second long farts 50 times, and when Alex thought it was over, Jared refueled with beans while the other two bulled watched in arousal. "You like this, wimp? You like my hot ass?" Jared taunted as he released more stench. "Then you're gonna love this. FAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRT!!!!! Alex was so in it that he began to suck in passionately Jareds farts. He didn't notice that he also lick his buttcrack. "Oh damn! I can feel his tongue in my anus! What's wrong with him?! Hey Alex are you my ass licking slave huh?"He ripped another eggy fart in my face and I enjoyed it very well. My boner gets hard again. "Oh look at his crotch. He gets horny from my farts in his face. Haha. What a pathetic sissy! Hey is this the beginning of a great friendship? Do you want to be my personal butt licker when I'm gassy? Haha! I think he will say yes when I see what is happening in his pants."Alex was so excited. Damn YES! Fart on me whenever you want! He thought. Jared pulled down Alex's pants with a smile. Derek and Matthew laughing the whole time. Pulling down his pants revealed his rock hard cock. "No sir. No orgasm for you, young man." Jared said, pulling out his own rock hard cock. Alex's pants were now completely off his legs. Derek and Matthew both pulled their pants off too, straddling Alex's face. Jared closed and locked the stall door, and spread Alex's legs open. With no preparation, he pushed his erect cock into Alex's exposed butthole.

Right as he did so, Derek and Matthew simultaneously let out big wet farts right on Alex's face. He gasped from the dick entering him, and sucked in the nasty smell. He coughed and gagged, but it didn't stop. More farts kept coming, nonstop. While Jared slowly thrusted into him. Jared's cock was huge, filling his whole asshole. And the constant barrage of disgusting farts on his face was overwhelming. He felt Jared's cock slide in and out of him over and over again, only getting faster. Without warning, Derek shoved his cock into Alex's open mouth. He shoved it deep down, and farted with every bounce as he fucked his mouth. The smell was unbearable. And now he couldn't breath out of his mouth, forcing him to smell it all. "I wanna hear you sniffing, bitch." Matthew warned. For fear of what they would do, Alex began sniffing hard. Sucking every nasty fart right into his nose. He felt like he was gonna die. The smell was dizzying and rancid. This went on for twenty minutes before Jared finally came inside him. Alex prayed it was over, but no such luck. Jared pulled his cock out of Alex's butthole, and Derek took his place between Alex's spread legs. For the next six hours, they took turns fucking him and farting all over his body, mostly his face. It was insane they could store that much gas. Sniff this!" The jock, Jared, shouts as Matthew pushes Alex's head right into Jared's crack. A series of potent, toxic farts groan out, and the stinky fumes swirled up Alex's nose and down his throat. He gags, and his eyes water, as the fetid, broccoli scented wind wraps around him, torturing his senses. After gym in the locker room… Want some more?" Matthew asks, rhetorically, as he trips the tortured boy over onto the dirty locker room floor just to proceed to sit on his face. Matthew laughs, and releases three, consecutive SBDs up Alex's nose. They all smelt of cheesy beans, and it made Alex feel so sick. He tried to push Matthew off, but he was not only weaker than Matthew, the baseball player, anyway, but he was being weakened by the gruesome fumes of the other boys' bums. Alex mumbles, and Matthew pins his arms down. Jared tells Matthew to keep on farting, he wants to see Alex pass out. Two more spurts of gas shoot out of Matthew, strongly smelling of cheesy beans. Alex moans, and coughs. The locker room already smelt like a sewer when Derek declared it was his turn. Alex lay on the ground, moving slightly, his eyes barely open. "Goodnight buddy," laughed Derek, as his pulled down his pants, and sat his sweaty, boxer-clad bottom onto the defenceless Alex's face. Alex groaned one last time, as if to say, "Please, don't, just let me go." But it didn't matter, because seconds later, Derek released his boy stink right onto Alex's face. A couple of sniffs of the potent burrito fart and Alex was out like a locker room light... when lunch came around, Alex walked to where his two friends, Victor and Corbin , were sitting. However , before he could make it, Derek, Matthew, and Jared walked over to Alex and brought him over to their table. "Good luck!" Victor yelled over to his friend , refusing to get involved. Jared and Matthew sat down next to Alex, while Derek sat in front of him. "Don't be scared. We won't kill you!" Derek said as he rubbed a hand on Alex's cheek. "We're just going to fart." Matthew said as he let a smelly one go, right next to Alex. Alex smelled this and didn't want to smell anymore. Alex scooted over to Jared, who just finished his milk. "I don't know why you want to get next to me, my milk farts are way worse!" Jared said as he aimed his ass to Alex & blasted a meaty wet fart in his direction. Alex was getting a little woozy as... he begins to feel sick. Jared's milk farts smelt so odd to Alex. He could only describe them as disgusting clouds of warm, thick air. Derek, go get more milk so that I can be of service to our friend Alex here," Jared said as he pulled Alex into a light headlock and pushed his head down towards his crotch. Jared, of course, ripped another fart, & the stink rose straight into his face

He coughed and moaned lightly, and he wad getting very drowzy. He tried to push Jared off but he was too strong, and for it, Alex had sniff up another toxic fart as Jared let another slip. Derek arrived with another carton of milk, and Alex knew there was a long time left to dinner, and he was going to suffer. In that moment, Alex, woozy, was dropped by Jared so he could drink his milk, and Alex saw his opportunity to try and scramble away.He was about to get up, when he was met by an ass in such tight school slacks, It was Matthew. "I don't think so buddy," he laughed, and released a sizzling, acidic fart right into the defenceless Alex's face. Alex caught a strong whiff, and felt right to sleep. In the bathroom after school was over. When it was finally over, Alex was slumped over the toilet, so exhausted he couldn't move his muscles. The three boys pulled their pants back on and unlocked the stall door. "I'm sure he'll find his way home, right boys?" Jared asked. "Of course. And if he doesn't, well, we'll be back for him again tomorrow." And they all left, leaving Alex alone and unable to move. The stench of their godawful farts still lingering in the air. Alex makes it home and realized that his mom invited some people over. It was Jared, Derek, and Mathew. "Hey sweetie." Said the mom. Alex asked, "What are they doing here?" "They're here because they said they have a project with you in science class." Said the mom. Just as Alex was about to speak, Jared covered his mouth. "That's right! Now we'll being going upstairs." Jared pulled Alex up the stairs as Mathew, and Derek followed behind. Once they reached Alex's room, they pushed him on the bed, and locked the door. "You didn't make it home in time, now you get punished." Said Jared as he pulled his pants down. The other two did the same. Alex's pants were pulled down forcefully. Jared laid on the his stomach on the bed. Mathew and Derek shoved Alex's face right in Jared's ass. Jared started farting as Derek shoved his cock inside of Alex. Derek's Bulging cock inside of Alex felt like heaven. Alex's ass stretched wider, and wider. Jared's farts were delightful as a wind blew Alex's hair up. Jared's ass felt soft, and it was round. Mathew lifted Alex's head up as Jared changed positions. Jared was no sitting up holding his feet in the air. Mathew shoved Alex right back in the hole. "Lick my ass!" Said Jared. Alex stuck his tounge right through the hole, making is warm, and slimy. It tasted good. As he licked even more, Mathew started sucking his cock. It was bulging. As Derek was cumming inside of Alex's ass. Alex got harder, making it easier for Mathew to suck out the cum. Suddenly everyone stopped.

They all backed up, and looked at each other. "You ready?" Said Jared. "We're ready." Said Derek and Mathew. Jared went towards Alex and placed Alex's head on the bed. Jared placed his ass right on Alex's nose. The other two came and placed their beautiful round ass's on Alex's side of the face. Jared's ass was in Alex's nose, and mouth. Jared, Mathew, and Derek let it rip. Alex nose, and mouth. Jared, Mathew, and Derek let it rip. Alex could taste Jared's farts. Alex, without thinking, stuck his tounge through Jared's ass again. Jared moaned with pleasurer. The three's farts were disgusting, so bad that Alex couldn't even compare it to anything. It was nice. Alex inhaled every bit of the farts. This continued for 6 hours. "Alright boys, I think we've had enough. Two of the boys left, but Jared stayed back. "You're our fart slave, and fuck slave weather you like it, or not. Come to my house after school tomorrow. You, Me, and the boys are gonna have a sleepover for the weekend." Just ass Alex opened his mouth to reply, Jared stuck his dick into Alex's mouth. "Hope you enjoy this before I go." Jared started pissing in Alex's mouth. Alex swallowed every bit of it. Alex drooled when it was done, like he was begging for more. "You better pray you'll make it through the day at school tomorrow before the sleep over."He decides not to go that weekend. Little does he know that his bullies had a surprise for him. Alex was in his room late at night the day he was supposed to go to the sleepover, jerking himself off of the thought of his bullies fucking him till he cums a hundred times. He heard a knock on his window, and quickly got up to see to see what it was and uncovered his curtains blocking the window view and saw Jared's face "open up right now" he hesitated to do so, so it didn't seem like he was desperate. As he opened the window and Jared coming in with Mathew and Derek behind him. "I see you didn't show up at my house today" Jared said with a grin "you know what that means" he smirked. Jared grabbed Alex's shoulders and pushed him onto the bed roughly. They all three started taking off their pants and boxers. Alex was getting excited just seeing there massive cocks. Jared moved closer to Alex and ripped off his pants and boxers, showing his hard dick pop up. Jared chuckled "looks who excited to see us". Now it's time for your punishment, he pulled something out of his book bag he brought with him and put it in Alex's mouth to keep wide open and he then bent over and started pushing farts out. I started squirming trying to get away but Derek and Mathew's grip on my legs and hands were to strong.

Next day

Before 6th period Alex went into the boys bathroom, but when he was going into a stall he heard the door lock and saw Derek."What are you--?" Before he could finish, Derek tackled Alex to the ground and sat his sweat-pant clad butt onto Alex face and let loose one of the worst farts he ever pulled; even worse than the one on the bus earlier. BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTT! Alex first thought was to pretend to not like it, and struggle; but this was quickly foiled when he felt Derek's hand rub his hard dick."Did you really think I wouldn't see your boner earlier? Unlike Jared and Matthew, I was into farting in your face for more than just torturing you." As he said this, he pulled Alex pants and underwear off his lower body to reveal Alex erect cock.BBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! And let loose another fart in Alex face. "We're going to spend ALOT of quality time in this room." He grabbed Alex right hand and put it on his own hard cock. "If you know what I mean."

[arlechinav-blog]

Starting Materials for Mediterranean Trancework

If you are wondering what you will need to get started on this as a group, I have put together a list of materials. This is basically what I use when I am teaching others how to do this and when I host trance rituals.

I keep a fully stocked trance kit with extras of all the below items so that those who need them can have something to use until they can get their own. If you intend to lead your own group, be prepared to provide at least a few things for the effort.

Frame Drums: 14”-16” frame drums with synthetic heads are best for beginners. Recommending Remo’s Thinline, Renaissance, Fiberskyn, or Tar series’. Synthetic heads help students build up skills and needed hand calluses at the same time. Goat or fish skin drum heads will tear up your skin and go flat without proper care very easily. Each person involved should know how to play a drum and learn the beats your group uses. Avoid buffalo drums and bodhrans, they are too heavy for Mediterranean style drumming. 

Whiteboard and Easel: A wooden repurposed child’s art easel will work perfectly fine. Use it to balance a whiteboard where you can put up weekly notes. Large clips or magnets can be used to hold up a poster-board too, depending on what kind of easel you get. These are great for keeping up your trance chant lyric notes. Only use a whiteboard for notes that you will need once. 

Poster Boards: Record trance chants and rhythms that you use with your group onto large poster boards so that everyone can read them during practice sessions. Use a poster-board for notes that you will need multiple times to spare yourself from writing it again and again every time you need it. 

Trance Rhythms: I start folks out with 10 trance rhythms that can be used for pretty much everything. They work for just about any Mediterranean song you can find. I will have to film some samples for this so that you can hear them.

Trance Chants: To get through a basic trance ritual, you will need roughly 4-5 trance chants. Start your group with their first 5 and work on getting them down together. Some groups will prefer to work with songs in English, some will prefer songs in other languages, and some will prefer a mix of both. Feel out your group before you decide on your chants. 

Online Database of Communication: Start up a group where you can share resources, communicate about upcoming trance dates, and load up videos privately. Keep it secure. 

Incense: Incense is a trance trigger so pick one scent and stick to it every time you do practice or ritual. Keeping the same scent for all things trance will help participants go under. Use a soft floral scent like jasmine. Later, you can work in different scent triggers for different rituals. 

Rug: You can use rubber gym mats that link and/or an actual rug. Rugs will give rug burns so plan accordingly. Whatever you use has to be easily perceived by touch rather than sight--so tape on the floor will not work. This well defined border will be where the entranced are free to move. They will confine themselves to it so make sure it is the right size for the job you want it to do. 

White Flat Sheets: You will need at least 2 to start and +1 for each additional person who will trance. You can have your participants bring their own or you can pick some up from a second-hand store for fairly cheap. Everybody should have their own if possible.  

Colored Scarves: All things are color coded in trance for hypnotic suggestion and we use colored scarves to communicate with each other during trance rituals. People who wear a red scarf are monitors who look after trance dancers, people who wear white scarves are trance dancers who are there to trance, people who wear light blue scarves are musicians, and people who wear dark blue scarves are ready and capable of leading a trance session. You can have people bring their own or supply the group yourself. 

Your “Whites”: Each person will need an all white outfit to wear during trance rituals. For class, they can wear whatever they like. White is a spiritually neutral color used by all Mediterranean trance cults. Participants should supply their own trance clothes but you can keep a small supply of extra items to help supplement. 

Altar Kit: A trance altar needs to have a water jug and rinsing bowl with scented water for participants to wash their hands and face at (Cortas brand rose or orange blossom water are easy to find at Mediterranean groceries). It will need incense for participants to smudge themselves, their clothes, their hair and their instruments with. It will need a plate for monetary donations (it should never be empty). It is lucky to put an odd number on the altar ($1, $3, $5, $7 or $9). It will also need essential oils for use on skin that participants can rub on themselves (floral, fruit, or herbal scents preferred). Scent is very important to trance so the key is to be consistent and use it liberally so the scent can work as a non-visual trigger.

Wake-up Kit: A pitcher or fancy spritz bottle of cool water to spray or sprinkle on the arms and forehead of the entranced when they are done trancing. A blended oil of strong purgative scents that is dabbed on the fingers of the guide or monitor and wiped on the nose of the entranced when they are done trancing. I prefer a blend of rosemary, cedar and clove oil--that’ll wake you up! Make sure that no one in the space has an allergy to a product you use. 

Food: Always keep at least a loaf of fresh bread and some hummus for dipping on hand for post-trance snacks. Eating food helps those who have been trancing to come down and sober up. Water to drink is also helpful afterward. Be aware of dietary restrictions before you bring in foods that members of your group cannot eat.

Symbols: Think very carefully about the symbols you use and when you use them. Protect their meanings by bringing them out only when they are relevant. Continually reinforce their meanings in all that you do. This is a hypnotic suggestion and your symbols will become more and more important the more trancing you do. 

[odue-sp]

Saw a TikTok. So here you go.

Aizawa x Male reader

M/n is quirkless. A foreign hero and is quite good friends with Aizawa. A very skilled hero even without a quirk... But... M/n likes to annoy the Japan branch by being the most American he can be. In reality, with Aizawa (including Hizashi) he acts like his normal self.

All Might feels nothing but embarrassment.

"Woof! Woof! USA! USA!" The hero shouted jumping on the table in the cafeteria after hearing that the state won a game. Students looked confused before All Might covered his face in embarrassment. "Suck it mother fuckers!" All Might grabbed him by his shirt, dragging him out.

"Is that a cow!? Aye, let's go ride it!" The h/c male shouted hopping over the fence, the other heroes stared in shock trying to get him away from the cows. "My uncle's a butcher! I can cut this pretty girl up in no time! Meat! Meat! Meat!"

"That's a villain?" H/n asked staring at the strange dressed thing? "Looks like..." He snorted covering his mouth. "That's his name? Pfft!" He laughed as he turned his head away. "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help but remember a villain I fought that dressed like a cow... You look like her... Hahaha!"

"What are you doing!?" The s/c hero shouted at the students who looked confused as he walked over. "Do you not know how to load a gun?" He points at Snipe. "Have you no pride cowboy?!" Snipe looked shocked and shook his hands. "I'm not American!"

These were a few moments that H/n showed his pride as an American.

"What the hell?!" A hero shouted holding H/n by the scruff of his neck. "What do you mean you have no quirk?!" It was during the big fight with the Japan Mafia. M/n only smiled. "My quirk is being an American. Quite powerful, ain't it?" The hero stared in shock. The hero threw him down, the male coughed up blood. He winced before feeling fabric wrap around him. He let out a gasp. "Aizawa!"

"I know you're playing around, but this is serious." He scolded the hero who looked confused. Aizawa smacked the back of his head pretty harshly. "Cut it out, M/n." His whole demeanor changed. "Hehe, it was fun though. Playing it up made them leave me alone." He said while glancing at the heros who seemed angered.

"but is it really such a bad thing I'm quirkless?" He was confused. "Tsk. I wanna go back to the states. This country is so... Fucked." His crossed his arms. "You can fight them. I'm bored! Aizawa let's go to the car cafe!" Aizawa looked down at the s/c male who stiffened. "Go." He turned to leave before his shoulder was grabbed. "I meant to fight!" The heroes protested.

"Awe, this country is really beautiful. Too bad the people here are pretty fucked." He pulled out a gun. "I can understand why there's so many villains here." He grabbed the suitcase from Aizawa.."I'll be back darling!"

He rushed into the hallway that the heroes couldn't clear. He shot them all, aiming for where their quirks advanced or needed. Throat, eyes, hands, fingers, even hair. He pulled out a knife, slashing and cutting as he jumped on their backs. "Don't kill them!" Aizawa shouted as he saw the hero aim for the killing move. "Self defense!" "This isn't America!"

The hallway was covered in blood, H/n wasn't clean either. Every time the heroes had a hard time clearing a way, H/n stepped up with just a gun and knife. Pure skill that none of them expected out of a quirkless. One could wonder what would've happened if Izuku met this hero first instead of All Might. "Crazy. We need to lock him up." A hero whispered. "There's no need," Aizawa called out glaring at them. "Because he's quirkless yet skilled you want him locked up? Idiots." The s/c smiled waving at the group. "Clear!"

Then it happened. H/n's eyes widened seeing the red bullets aiming for the heroes. Shots rang out but they never hit the said heroes.

They managed to win.

"M/n?"

Aizawa glanced to see the hero looking at the girl they saved. "I'm glad." Aizawa looked confused before he fell to the floor. "You didn't have that jacket on before..." His hands removed the jacket. Quirk erasing bullets riddled his body. "Hey, what did you do?" A hero spoke confused at the many bullets. "I'm... Quirkless. I'm nothing special," his eyes watered as he looked at Aizawa. "It hurts less looking at you pretty boy." He choked on blood as he reached over and held his face. "You all may be shitty... But you're heroes... If I die, it won't matter when they find out I'm quirkless..."

"I'll just be called fake, crazy, stupid..." His tears continued to flow. "But hey, it was a fun ride. I made an impression by being the most american... Do you know how much I hate myself for saying that shit?"

He coughed up blood as his eyes slowly faded dull.

"damn... I really wanted to bother you all more..."

"I wanted to..." His voice went silent as he closed his eyes. "Kiss you."

[sayitaliano]

Hello, I’ve been trying to learn Italian for a few years now (it’s been an on and off thing, depending on how frustrated I get lol), I feel like my discipline is not the best, and the fact that I can’t find a native to practice and ask for help is also pretty discouraging. Could you please give me a few tips as to what I can do to learn more in my current situation? Thank you 💕

Ciao!

For as frustrating as it may get (and I know what you mean here as a languages student myself), my main suggestion is to try and keep up a constant pace that allows you to study at least 15 minutes everyday (or a bit more 3-4 times a week, all according on your schedule ofc). I noticed an improvement once I started being more consistent in my practice (even writing just a sentence per day is better than doing a whole paragraph each month -eg. I've been writing a diary everyday, not just about random stuff but inserting different things like descriptions, answering questions, grammar stuff/sentences practice...). And ofc, the moment I decided I wanted to be more consistent, I had to start from basics again (and I'm suggesting you the same).

Set easy goals, plan reviews of what you have studied (even the week before), write in and listen to your target language (and also talk to yourself in it, like eg. describe what's around you or try to tell yourself what you should do; immerse yourself in the culture as much as you can -youtube is so of help with its many vlogs and shows and music...): I understand you want to run fast towards fluency but it's not said you need to reach it in a certain amount of time. Allow yourself to have days in which you see no progress or even think you're taking step backward. It's okay, it's all part of the process (we also have bad days in general, so be kind with yourself). We need for stuff we learn to settle a bit here and there, and therefore not making moves even for a week or two (or more) is normal. Go slow: moving fast is enemy when we want to learn and really assimilate what we learn.

Even if it's annoying to study, grammar is fundamental. And Italian grammar is not easy to learn so again it may take time according on what you are studying (nouns' genders, irregular verbs, articles, pronouns, adjectives.... try to start as easy as you can). If you rather, I'd suggest you buying a book for foreigners (I'm leaving you the resources masterpost, maybe you can find studying books but also other resources for your self studies)

I have collected LOADS of studying tips in the years on this masterpost (lemme add this since i cannot edit that post now) and... actually I know of a native who's trying to practice English (this said you can write a post about needing a "Penpal" and tag me, I'll happily reblog it here: many Italians follow me or you can use some other app). Don't give up on a native's help: being corrected when we make mistakes is so very important. It helps us remember the mistake we made and not do it anymore (or be more aware of it). Or find studying pals! I'm sure other Italian students would like to share and help you. Having others studying with us, may also help when it comes to consistency: we have no excuse but to practice at least every week and then we can practice together too. There's nothing bad in asking for help: if you don't know something, you cannot just try to solve it yourself, as you may not find the solution (or find a incorrect one): that way studying a language can really become frustrating to say the least as you may feel like you're in a hole and you cannot get out of it. Don't make it more difficult for yourself, make it easier. It's plenty of people who'd like to help you out and find themselves in your same position. You're not a bother, js.

All the best!! And ofc here I am if you need help :)

[gingerminx75]

Consequences. Part 1

With my new shape comes new attention. Catcalls that I never heard before. The hotter weather means shorter shorts and a minimal tank top. I am not dressing for them, I am dressing for me. It appears that the men in my neighbourhood didn’t get that memo. My schedule too tight for me to vary when I run, and not wanting to drive, where I run. It’s safe to say I have become predictable.

The calls are becoming more difficult to ignore. Shouts of, “leave your door open, I know where you live”. Them “accidentally” blocking my path and leaving me stammering as I ask them to move. As I blush and lower my gaze, they laugh at me, reminding me that I am smaller, weaker and regardless of my running, slower.

I return home and while soaking in a nice hot salt bath a see an advertisement on my feed. Women’s self defence classes. This might be exactly what I need. An opportunity to learn how to defend myself and hopefully gain the confidence to put these guys in their place.

Unfortunately the course is not local, but there is a one week condensed program. I can take a week off work, have a mini vacation and return a who new person.

I contact the instructor, he seems a bit aloof, but that should not matter. I just need him to teach me how to defend myself. As a retired LEO, he should have a lot of experience with deviant minds and how they pick their prey.

I pack, excited for my adventure. Shoes, running shorts (but not too short), white tank top and white cotton panties. Just in case the class doesn’t wear me right out I pack a few casual clothes and my favourite little black dress.

My flight was uneventful, arriving in the south it’s a bit warmer than I am used to, but very beautiful. I’m glad I didn’t bring sweat pants, I will sweat enough as it is.

As I was travelling to attend the course, he had kindly offered to pick me up at the airport and take me to my hotel. A short cab ride in the morning and we will begin.

I was pleasantly surprised by his appearance. 6’2, piercing eyes and wonderful broad shoulders. He watched me approach, quietly confident. No smile, yet he didn’t appear displeased. His commitment to fitness was evident. I can only hope my training is as thorough.

I get to bed early, get up, quick shower and a light breakfast. Before I leave my room, I do a quick turn around and like what I see. Simple, comfortable but practical.

I go outside and have to take a few pictures, the landscape, even within the city is so pretty. I am not used to the hills, but it might help my conditioning. I turn to look back at the hotel to see if my cab has arrived, but to my surprise I see my instructor.

He explained to me that the other two participants had canceled, and I could reschedule or train one on one. I couldn’t rationalize travelling and taking time off twice, and while he was slightly intimidating, I really wanted to do this.

I hopped in his car, and after a short while we arrived at his house. With the lack of students, he explained that we would use his garage gym, rather than rent an area. Odd, but logical.

The gym was well setup, primarily free weights, with a few machines. The best part was the wide open door and quietly humming fans that kept the space fresh and comfortable. His house being set back from the road, and nicely treed, we were able to keep music playing and not disrupt the neighborhood.

We quickly got to work. Physical assessment first. Taking my measurements, testing my flexibility. Gently, but firmly assisting me to get the fullest stretch. Next came the weights. Setup so that I wasn’t working to failure, but able to complete ten good reps. Form being more important than moving a heavy load. He explained to me that if I don’t push myself and find out what I’m capable of, I will never know my limitations. That knowing what I can handle is the best way to boost my confidence.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but his “warmup” felt a lot like my workout. A quick break for water while we discussed the day’s workout.

Weights first, then an introduction to hand to hand training. The weights progressively heavier, as I grew tireder. Quickly and sharply corrected, I quickly realized that there was one right way to do things…. His way.

I appreciated the attention to detail, even as some as the criticism stung. I wanted to do well, I just didn’t know what to do. Frustrated with my failures. He didn’t appear to notice, continuing to correct me as he saw fit.

Watching me squat. Nudging my feet into proper position. Slightly wider. Toes out. Correcting the arch in my back with a firm hand. Close enough that his voice sounded like a whisper in my ear. “Yes, that’s it”. “Deeper now”.

That simple affirmation, after so many struggles, felt so good. Re-energized, I wanted more. I wanted his praise. Trying extra hard, legs starting to tremble as I descend. Him gently supporting the weight and allowing me to collect myself. Taking away his support feels like the weight doubled as I rise. The pause at the bottom ruined the momentum. I struggle to return to my start position. This time he allows me to struggle. For the first time, I see a hint of a smile.

I rack the weights and catch my breath. He leads me to the bench press. I assume the position. Feet flat, legs parted. Squared up to the bar. Standing behind me, he helps me unrack the weight. Light enough to not need a spotter yet, he stands and the end of the bench. Watching, guiding me with simple instructions. I’m concentrating on my technique, but distracted by his voice. I like it.

His whole demeanour authoritative, but confident. Self assured, with no need to be cocky. Quite obviously used to giving directions, rather than taking them. We watches me, arms crossed over his chest. Unintentionally showing off those gorgeous arms.

I don’t notice that he is watching me too. Watching both my form and my reactions. Watching my shorts ride up a bit as my back arches. Careful to stay in contact with the bench, unaware that my shorts have adjusted. The white cotton of my panties gleaming against the black silkiness of my shorts. Legs rolling outward, the damp spot on my panties that very likely isn’t sweat.

———-

I finish the set, get up and adjust my clothes. Riding up and exposing more than I’d like. Ready to wrap up for the day, I’m ready to go back to my room and relax.

My day isn’t over yet though, on the drive back to the hotel I receive a stern lecture about the importance of situational awareness. Learning to unconsciously scan my surroundings for threats. Being aware of what is present, and what can hurt me. I have been accused of being naive before. I want to believe that people are not all bad. And that kindness is not weakness.

Back in my room, I slowly strip. Enjoying the tightness of my hard worked muscles. Enjoying the sheen of sweat. Shyly wishing that someone was there to taste it. Running a bath, sipping a glass of wine. Strolling lazily around my room. Not a care in the world.

Morning arrives too early and I am outside and waiting before he arrives. Dreading the workout to come, but looking forward to it at the same time. I expect to see changes in myself by the end of the week. Wondering if anyone else will notice as well.

He picks me up, and today drives in the opposite direction of his home. I enjoy the scenery and wonder where we are off to. He pulls into a gorgeous wooded drive. Parks the car and takes two water bottles from the backseat.

I follow curiously as he walks down the path. His steps longer than mine, I have to run/walk to keep up. No small talk, no wasted energy. A man on a mission, but unwilling to share the plan with me.

We pass the free space area of the park and enter the trail system. Here he gets a bit more talkative. Asking me what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling and telling me to let him know if I get nervous. The last question seems odd. I don’t imagine anyone bothering us, not with his size and demeanour.

Today’s workout involves functional strength. Dead arm hangs from convenient overhanging branches. Some too tall for me to reach. He easily boosts me up and helps me down.

Hill climbing, wind sprints, pushups and skip rope. Oddly thrilled with the praise for something especially well done. The day is hard, but enjoyable. The sunshine, the dedicated attention of someone willing to help me grow better and stronger.

He seems very concerned for my comfort, always checking in to make sure that I am okay. Making sure that I am not afraid. As the day draws on, he seems almost frustrated with my answers. I’m not afraid, I am enjoying the adventure. I’m learning, I am growing and I am having a great time. This day is everything I wanted and more.

We stop to break a water break and sit in a lightly shaded clearing. I take a moment to rub a cramp out of my shoulder. I’m beginning to feel the effects of the past days’ efforts. He suggests that I sit up straight, back against the tree. Reaching my arms up high above my head. He stands in front of me, awkwardly close. Taking both my wrists in one hand and helping me stretch. It feels so good as the tension rises, then is released.

One more stretch he says, this time raising me to my feet. Arms up stretched above my head. Pulling me onto my tip toes. When I expected him to of release the pressure and let me down, he asked once more, “what are you feeling?”, “are you afraid?” I answer again, “I am nervous, but safe. I feel safe with you”.

Instead of reassuring him, I see a flash of anger across his face. He grips my wrists tighter and lifts me, dangling from his grip. He leans into me, pressing my body against the rough bark of the tree. Whispering in my ear, “you don’t understand, it’s me you should be afraid of”.

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Let's take a day for the new one, Chapter 41's first half is live and it has a vibe with which I can jive. We don't have a whole lot in the way of funny panels this time but the atmosphere is just great. Everyone's hanging out at Cora's with the Donquixopticon Chamber that does have an equally corny name for realsies. Playing Daifugo and scheming for investigating Doffy's involvement with a Dark Bingo Tournament. No, it's not as much of a reference in Japanese. I got hopeful. These kind of moments are great though, lot of nice gags. I love how everything is interspersed with card plays, Daifugo is a fun game. Fruits Basket has it pop up and the old Tokyopop volume had the rules. Convinced a group of friends to play on a school trip once. Very fun memory. Get a load of Luffy cheating!

Where this gets cool is we do break up into teams based on the game. Worth mentioning it by the way, you could call it like "Tycoon" or "Millionaire." As a game it has a theme of wealth disparity and caste. So legitimately interesting to juxtapose with the Donquixote Brothers' origin story as well as what we potentially set up. Reminds me a little of both how we use Hawkins's tarot cards and the Go board in Wano. That's all the symbolic meaning for now, if it shows up again and terms are flummoxing someone gracious enough to translate, shoot me a DM. Moving on. New World parody, gotta split the party. One half will tail Doffy...and the other will investigate Onigashima Middle. Here's our groups:

Well how about that? Miss Nami who mentioned having Kiku's contact info, Miss Robin who pondered how much she'd know, and Miss Vivi who was part of actually saving the day around Yamato's trip to the carnival are all on the Onigashima team. The team notably without someone in that guide role Cora's in for the party crashers. So surely we're about to have some girl time with your new tol buddy. Does Kiku get a nice cardigan like y'all have? I bet she'd like it. Recall our theory is that based on established norms and uniforms, it seems Kiku might already be a New World Middle student like Izo.

Chopper can come too and honestly I'm down with Brook being a part of this. I uh, wouldn't mind checking off finding out how our girl reacts to being propositioned about seeing her underwear while we're at it. Seriously though, high chance our most precious flower of Wano's much more obviously foreshadowed return in this series feels quite imminent.

Since the other team is going to like, a gathering of something that sounds way too much like the Black-Black Club for this not actually ending up being a YYH reference I wonder if Big Mom will work her way in. Totally would make sense with what we have set up. Is a little weird to have Doffy rubbing elbows with her over Kaido but he was always the broker for everyone it seemed. Wouldn't mind seeing schoolboy Perospero, we know Pudding in a sailor suit will be cute, and if I get Katakuri & Corazon in the same panel I know I'mma break reaction records again. Not to mention Jinbei's absence has been a lil fishy. I love where this is all heading, seems like it'll be really fun.

[topazadine]

How NOT to Write a Character

I recently read How Not to Write a Novel, which is a truly marvelous text of everything that is wrong with you, me, society, and the world at large. Perhaps not the last two, but definitely about you and me. Or our writing, at least.

In the vein of this, my new fascination, let’s talk about characters.

As always, this is my opinion and my perspective as someone who has been writing for 15 years. You may disagree, and that's okay. There are very few hard and fast rules in writing, and anyone who acts like the ultimate writing authority is stupid. Don't listen to them.

Characters are hard.

There are quite a few human beings on the planet, or so I am told. I wouldn’t know; I exist entirely within a white room with absolutely no ornament.

We need our characters to somewhat resemble such human beings, but also move our plot forward and make interesting choices. It’s a difficult balancing act, and one that even the best writers do not always succeeed at, much less the rest of us dweebs.

Cormac McCarthy’s characters in The Road are so plain and boring that I was hoping they’d get eaten by something. Olivie Blake’s The Atlas Six has such nauseatingly unlikable characters that I had a hard time picking which one I wanted to die.

You do not want to do that unless you, like Cormac McCarthy, are so talented that no one cares if your characters are composed entirely of paper shavings.

I, most certainly, do not always succeed at characterization; it took me ten years to make slightly interesting characters. I still remember walking out of a creative writing class, almost in tears, because the professor told me my characters feel more like plot devices than people. She was 100% right though, and I hate that for her.

Enough about my trauma, though. Back to the matter at hand.

Sometimes knowing what not to do is more instructive than learning what to do. Then we can turn our noses up at such mistakes as we compose, remembering how it felt to be mentally swatted by Howard Mittelmark and Sandra Newman.

So let’s be sad together as we think about all the characters that we ruined!

A lot of this is essentially what better writers than me have discussed in their fantastic book, but for free.

The Perfect Angel

Hot-bodied Teresexy has the perfect job, the perfect body, the perfect home. Despite having oodles of family wealth, she chooses to work at a meek and modest job that is super quirky and, if she weren’t absolutely loaded, utterly unsustainable in today’s capitalist hellscape. Excelling at her fun and super cool job, Teresexy is totally embarrassed by anyone noticing that she spends all of her free time walking dogs at the shelter while simultaneously reading to underprivileged children – and dropping copious amounts of cash into every beggar’s hat that she sees. Despite this clear reluctance to gain any praise (she’s so humble!), people fawn over her, practically throwing themselves at her to reward her with anything her heart may desire. She modestly downplays her accomplishments because she just cannot fathom anyone being totally amazed by her.

I need some anti-emetics right about now.

Your reader is going to hate your MC with a burning passion because, to be honest, we are very jealous.

The rest of us work boring jobs that pay the bills but don’t always fulfill us. We’ve got a few extra pounds that we refuse to admit come from the Extra Large Double Caramel Cappucino that we guzzle down while we’re late to yet another stupid dumb meeting that could have been an email.

More than that, your character feels … fake. They feel like your personal power fantasy, where everything in your life is perfect and everyone loves you. We can practically feel the insecurity oozing off the page because we, too, want that life, and we cannot have it.

Your character needs flaws.

Maybe Teresexy has a super cool cancer-curing job but she is wracked with student debt and her parents refuse to share their wealth no matter how much she begs. She feels unappreciated and people take advantage of her niceness to the point where she feels utterly drained at the end of the day.

And maybe she's a covert narcissist who just does all these things to get attention and manipulate people. That'd be a fun twist.

A character's flaws could be personal – maybe Teresexy is an utter doormat until she snaps with frustration – or they could be situational. If she is a really nice person but she keeps getting thrown into awful situations, we feel bad for her and want her to prevail.

If there is literally nothing wrong with her life and everything always goes her way, we don’t want her to prevail: we want her to fall flat on her face and get some comeuppance.

The Suckup

Syche Lofable loves Teresexy. Everything Teresexy does is perfect. She is her bestie and, of course, her greatest supporter. Whenever Teresexy does anything the least bit interesting, Syche is right there to woop and scream “yaaas girl!!” For Teresexy’s birthday, she wrote a giant list of all her bestie’s best qualities and read it at the party that she threw in her main girl’s honor while Teresexy blushed and modestly proclaimed that it was too much praise. She is always there for Teresexy, hanging on her every word, celebrating her every achievement; she serves as her friend’s cheerleader and marketer. Sometimes, she even pops in during a workday just to give Teresexy a pep talk, and any time her friend achieves something, Syche is right there to write a press release and talk about it to anyone who will listen.

Do not (do not) have characters that solely exist to gas up the MC.

We will hate them, and we will hate the MC more because of it. All you are going to do is make a one-dimensional, annoying character that we want to turn on the MC and stab them in the face.

It’s fine to have supportive friends, but they need to also have their own lives, and they need to not obsess over the MC. They are allowed to disagree or have a bad day, and sometimes their friend comforts them instead of the other way around.

Any time you find a character that is always, always orbiting around your MC, tone it down or, better yet, make them turn on the MC, shattering the relationship and causing some serious drama.

Or, honestly? Make them hook up. I think Syche might have an itty bitty crush.

The Strong Female Badass

Blasda Tuffi can do everything a man can! She can fight, she can crack open a cold one with the boys, and damn, can she shoot a gun. She doesn’t have any of those typical icky woman qualities like crying at sad movies or gobbling ice cream on her period. In fact, when she’s PMSing, she trains even more, and harder! Despite this, all the men want her because she’s one of the boys, but she coldly rejects them all because she cares too much about her career, which just involves punching people and looking cool. Oh, by the way, she’s super pretty but never bothers to put on makeup or nice clothes because she doesn’t care about such superficial things.

We get it. She’s a tough broad. She’s basically a male superhero but with lady woman parts.

She’s also annoying because she’s such a stereotype and, frankly, pretty misogynistic.

A female character can be tough, but she needs to have flaws and a mixture of both traditionally masculine and feminine qualities, or you have basically just written a man with lady woman parts because you want to seem progressive.

Blasda occupies a strange space between masculinity and feminity, beseiged on all sides because she can’t rectify these things. That can make her an interesting critique of gender roles rather than just a way to win feminist brownie points.

The Antihero (But Not Really)

Tiberius Wolferson had a tough life. He was raised by an alcoholic and a mother who was too busy working at the Puppy Kicking Factory to give him any attention. Despite all this neglect, he’s cool. He’s stoic. He’s firm. He’s a badass. During his childhood, he fought many other kids – but only because they deserved it. This hardscrabble mentality has bled into his career, which is brutally and coldly slaughtering anyone who crosses him; this means he kills a lot of bad guys, but he never really feels bad about it. We know he’s not a good guy because he smiles as he tortures people to get more details about how they are intending to use orphans as bait to bring down a mob boss. Tiberius spends a lot of time telling us that he simply could not give a flying fart about if people die. That’s just what people do: they die. At his hand. Gruesomely. But only if they actually deserve it.

This is not an antihero, this is just a hero who the writer is trying very, very hard to turn into an antihero by writing nasty murder scenes and indulging their inner teenage boy, who loves the idea of getting back at all their childhood bullies.

Being an antihero isn't quite the same as being morally gray. Characters can do disdainful things, but we can still root for them because we understand that it was for the greater good. One of my characters, Mordrek, is introduced to The Eirenic Verses when he steals a mule, flees the scene, and then kills the owners.

Is he an antihero? No. He's a spy who does what he's gotta do. Those guys stood in the way of his work; it wasn't personal. He's morally gray.

But antiheroes need to be a bit more than just a little gray. They need to be full-on, blaring gray, edging toward black. We need to dislike, or at least disdain, an antihero.

Antiheroes are, quite honestly, one of the hardest characters to write because they need to toe the line between awful and likeable, never really falling into either. If you are not absolutely sure that you have great characterization, leave these guys to the pros.

The Overly Villainous Villain

Vila Crualton is a rich supervillain who somehow has a sycophantic crew of lackeys who will do whatever he wants. By the way, he does not pay them well, and he also kicks them a lot. He personally invented the Total Death Ray that also gives people cancer and also several diseases that are previously unknown to science. (Teresexy is throwing gobs of money at the problem and personally committed to fixing it herself.) In his free time, he does some shifts at the Puppy Kicking Factory, which has put him on Tiberius Wolferson’s hitlist because Tiberius has a lot of trauma about his mom walking out on him because she got addicted to kicking puppies. Vila’s main goal in life is to give everyone cancer. Why? Because he’s evil. That’s all there is to it. He loves kicking puppies, abusing his lackeys, committing tax fraud, and inflicting horrible suffering on other people just because.

Look, let’s get it out of the way. Some people just suck. Some people are total and utter sociopaths, and they really do feel like the ultimate villain. They have no redeeming qualities whatsoever, and they ruin everything they touch.

This is, of course, not from personal experience. Not at all.

But bad people IRL have a reason for what they do. Maybe they were abused and know no other way of interacting with people. Maybe they got addicted to drugs and don’t care how their next fix comes, just that it does.

That’s not to say all drug abusers are evil, of course, but a serious addiction can turn people into villains. They need help, but some refuse to get it because they’re afraid of losing the one thing that brings them comfort. It’s possible to redeem them, though it doesn’t always happen.

Or maybe a villain has a pretty simple reason for what they do: they love power and money. They want fame and don’t care who they step on. They want to get the pretty girl because she’d look good hanging off their arm, and how she feels about that does not matter because they do not see her as a real person due to misogyny.

But whatever the goal is, we can understand it, even if we have never been tempted down that same path, because we have seen it play out in other people or in historical figures.

Your villain does not need to be likable. They just need to be comprehensible.

The Miserable Cinnamon Roll

Doloria Lachrymis has had a hard life. Every member of her family was murdered when she was only five years old at the hands of Vila Crualton, who threw them into a comically oversized Blendtec blender after sewing her eyes open so she had to watch. She was then evicted from her family’s modest bungalow because, being five years old, she could not continue the family’s proud legacy of trash farming. Their completely unlucrative trash farm was foreclosed on, leaving her with nowhere to go. Sad little Doloria then fell into the cruel hands of one of Vila’s henchmen, who performed nightly bloodletting rituals on her delicate little feet because he believed that child blood would make him younger. Not only was she basically incapable of walking because of all the cuts on her feet, but she was constantly reminded of Vila’s evil nature because he would come into her mice-infested hovel and turn on a blender to make her cry.

Many of us love to put our characters in metaphorical blenders (sorry, Doloria) and make them suffer. However, it gets to a point where it’s just ridiculous.

You need to know when to lay off on the misery, or your character becomes trauma porn, as I have discussed before.

I had quite a difficult upbringing myself – it literally caused me to develop fibromyalgia – but it was not all bad. There were moments of joy, accomplishment, and serenity. Most people who have gone through trauma have similar experiences, even if the good times were fleeting.

We feel for characters more if we see them go through both positive and negative experiences, because we see them as real people whose lives are complicated – just like our own.

The Side Characters That Are There for No Reason

I can’t really sum these up because, well, I have no reason to. They are just there. They exist. They do not do anything interesting on their own, though they may happen to pop in for some reason, say some words, and immediately disappear again.

The random aunt that appears to drop off cookies. The wife of some other background character who says hi and then just stands around. The coworker who you describe in exhaustive detail for him to go, “Hey, how’s the cancer cure coming along?” and then walk off.

Go away! I don’t care about you! I don’t need to know your backstory! Get back to the MC fighting dragons!

A lot of writers worry that their stories are underpopulated, so they throw in a bunch of characters who are named and who have relationships with other characters, but nothing else. These characters are the equivalent of your grandmother’s collectible plates that you inherited and prop up around the house out of guilt, but that do nothing but collect dust that you must clean off every few weeks.

Throw them out, please. It is better to have an underpopulated book than an overpopulated one, where your MC gets lost in the shuffle and your readers are trying desperately to keep track of all these characters who are introduced once and then disappear into the ether.

If a character is just there to offer back chatter and shoot the breeze, banish them, or better yet, turn them into a likable character and then kill them.

Character Suggestions for Fun and Profit

Okay, so you have wept over the fact that one or all of your characters fall into these categories. Never fear! We can fix them. But how, you ask? Consider these options.

Never Make a Character’s Life Perfect

Your MC should not be rich, pretty, successful, and modest. They should not be talented at everything they do but also tenderhearted and willing to share.

Quite frankly, people don’t like to read about rich people unless they are jerks, because most of us are not rich and super talented. (Or maybe I am projecting.)

We want characters we can relate to!

Dead-end jobs! Shitty apartments! Ugliness! Toxic family members! Weird dynamics! Lusting after the one person we can’t have! All good, all valid.

If your character reflects exactly what you want your life to be like, remove something, or many somethings. Give them a flawed circumstance that you dislike about your life (or yourself) and play with that.

Pick a Major Character Flaw and Stick With It

Your MC needs a flaw so they don’t end up like Teresexy. A big flaw that infests everything they touch. It causes problems. It makes other characters hate their guts. Despite that, we can like them and relate to them because they have good traits, too.

This major flaw can be counterbalanced by their good flaws, but it needs to be realistic. Here are some examples:

Kindhearted but hotheaded

Affectionate but impulsive

Intelligent but lazy

Thoughtful but judgmental

Loyal but naive

Accomplished but abrasive

For bonus points, pervert one of their good qualities over the course of the story line. Maybe they start out very idealistic, but they become jaded and judgmental, assuming everyone needs to match their beliefs. Maybe they are kindhearted, but they take this to such an extreme that it ruins their life and they grow bitter.

Characters Should Make Mistakes

They don’t have to be big ones, but they need to be bigger than “tripped over something.” This goes along with the fact that they need to have flaws or we simply can’t relate to them.

If your character always makes the right decision, always has the perfect thing to say, and is always nice to everyone, then they don’t feel real: they feel like a plot device to get to some bigger conflict, and this reduces our immersion.

We want to cheer your MC on when they get back up after a mistake, whether that is a blowout argument with their partner or failing to kill the entire demon horde because they were too tired to go on. We want to see their guilt and their shame and their pain. This is what makes us excited and turning the page.

Characters Must Disagree

Not about everything, and not all the time. But your characters need to have personalities that rub up against each other sometimes. No matter how close these people are, they are not always going to agree with one another’s every decision.

Take my mom and I. We are very close; our personalities mesh well, and we like many of the same things. She is my greatest supporter, and in turn, she calls me to rant about all her work drama, because she knows I’ll back her up.

Despite this, we do butt heads sometimes. I hated someone she liked and told her in no uncertain terms, but she was convinced that he was a wonderful person who really cared about her. We got into several arguments about it until – surprise, surprise – it was proven that he’s actually a jerk and was exploiting her kindness. No, of course I’m not smug.

You can have a loving, close relationship with someone but still not get along all the time, because people are humans and humans sometimes do things that other humans don’t like. If your characters always agree with one another about everything, they feel undifferentiated, and we never really get to know them.

Character Trauma Should Mean Something

It is perfectly fine to have characters who had a hard life, or who go through terrifying things. I am not of the opinion that you should never discuss tough things like sexual assault, domestic violence, addition, or serious mental illness, but it needs to be done respectfully.

Trauma should not be included solely for shock value.

This, I believe, is where people get turned off by depictions of trauma because it is clearly included solely to add some action and excitement to the story, not to add forward momentum or flesh out a character.

Horrible things happen to a character, and then it’s just never discussed again, or it leaves them so broken that they morph into the Miserable Cinnamon Roll. This is bad. Do not do this.

Real-life trauma changes people forever: sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.

Traumatic incidents don’t have to have a happy ending, and they don’t need to be wrapped up into a feel-good-plucky-protagonist inspiration glurge. But they have to have purpose in the story; they must move the plot, or create character growth, or provide motivations for a character’s actions.

As an example, my character Cerie's life is defined by the death of her parents when she was seven. It forces her to be taken under the wing of a magical society because she needs housing, and it fuels her hatred for the country who did this to her loved ones.

So, that trauma determines her life path, gives her motivation, and then spurs character growth when she’s confronted with that country and realizes that a people are not their nation. It’s sad, but it’s there for a reason, and it becomes a critical element of the plot. She would literally not be who she is, and would not be dragged along in my whims, without that trauma.

When you consider adding something tragic, ask yourself whether it has a purpose other than being sad. Does the character grow from it? Does it change their life direction? Does it motivate them, or move them away from a certain decision?

If it doesn’t, then say no.

Every Character Must Have a Purpose

Having a world that is populated by people is good, because most of us do not exist in a pocket dimension that consists of us, our pets, and our girlfriend. But this does not mean every single person in that world needs to have a backstory, a name, and a favorite color.

Do you know everyone person in your neighborhood, or are most of them just human-shaped blobs that occasionally wave to you? For me, I know a few of my neighbors, and the rest of them just happen to exist. Hell, I don’t even know the name of my local arch-nemesis, only that she lives at the end of block and yells at me every time my dogs so much as place a paw on her precious grass. (Maybe her name is legally Lawn Lady, as I have deemed her, but I doubt it.)

When you give a character a name, you give them a purpose.

They need to do something useful; they must be integral to the plot. There are a variety of ways they can help out:

Offering comfort or levity in tense moments

Creating friction between other characters

Spurring the MC’s character growth

Becoming the MC’s mentor

Providing key information

Serving as an obstacle

Leading to revelations

Causing problems

There is also my favorite reason to include them: making the reader like them over chapters and chapters of characterization, and then mercilessly killing them so everyone is sad.

If they are a short-term obstacle, then sometimes they don’t need to be named, either. Only when they have a consistent purpose do they require naming and some level of characterization.

Good characters will do more than one of these things: they may be both the comic relief and the wise sage, or they make be a comfort but also cause friction.

Developing Characters Is a Journey

The funny thing is that the more you develop your characters, the more they change. They will do surprising things that you wouldn’t have expected, just like people do. This can be incredibly exciting and lead to fun plot twists that you hadn’t considered before.

Three-dimensional characters are dynamic and push the narrative along.

You can tell that your characters have grown realistic if you stop and realize that they are not the same person as at the beginning of the story, even if you didn’t consciously choose that. You also may notice that what feels right for the character is not what you intended to do at first; they are leading you as you carve their path.

Sometimes you won’t like the character you create, and that’s okay: we don’t need to befriend them, because they aren’t real. But if you and your (good) beta readers find them intriguing, then you’re on the right track.

Now, I would like to believe that my own characters, Uileac and Orrinir, are pretty good. They're assholes sometimes, sweet sometimes, and my god, do they tsundere.

Intriguing? You can read about them in 9 Years Yearning!

This fast-paced novel follows Uileac (the green guy) and Orrinir (the red one) over the course of their training at the Bremish War Academy. At first they sort of hate each other; then they beat each other up; then they become friends??? and then maybe more??

Horses exchange hands. Poems are written. Maybe some tears and maybe a few tantrums. There's a lot, oh so a lot.

But more importantly, do they kiss???

Well, you can find out.

If you do decide to read 9 Years Yearning, don't forget to leave a review!

Reviews are so important for ratings on Amazon. So very important.

Why's that? Why am I huddling in the closet, begging you to leave some nice words or whatever? It's because Jeff Bezos comes to your house and puts your first-born child in a Blendtec blender if you don't get enough reviews on Amazon.

Please, think of my precious son.

[indigovigilance]

How to Write Good Omens Meta

Someone left something in my ask box that intrigued me:

My Ask is for insight into the theory of clues and how S2 clues move and build S3. Is there a meta on this? (If not, would you consider it at some point?)

Well, I did consider it, and here’s my first shot at answering this really good question. It's more about the art of writing than of clue analysis, but I may do a second piece in this series, if it feels necessary. Anyway, here we go:

read on Ao3

Learn Something New

People want to read meta to learn something that they didn’t know before. This probably means you will have to learn something that you didn’t know before. Some meta-analysts arrive pre-loaded with a rich background in costuming, tarot, biblical canon, and the wide array of cultural references that appear in the show. We also seem to have a fair number of psychologists (formally trained or otherwise) representing. I (and others: see Chekhov's Contract by @ineffablyruined) happen to have a background in law and so I was able to make a unique contribution via my piece Sovereignty, Citizenship, and the Bookshop. But for other topics, I have to self-educate.

In my personal opinion, the work on direct canon analysis (that is, watching the show and reporting what you see) has largely been done and I don’t think there will be many more breakthroughs until some people go away and come back with a freshly informed perspective. Personally, I’m waiting for someone to go learn everything there is to know about S.W. Erdnase and tell us what they found, because that is a very specific reference that I haven’t seen fleshed out yet (link it in the reblogs if it already exists!).

Don’t Be Afraid of Outside Sources

For example, quite a few times I’ve gone away to read outside source material before writing a new meta. Good examples are: Honolulu Roast, The Lament of the Metatron, and The Hornet in the Beehive. These are topics where I had no particular advantage over anyone else, I just had a question and decided to keep digging until I had something that looked like an answer.

On choosing a topic: in each of these cases I began with an in-show piece of information that seemed both unambiguous in its directness and yet unexplained. Why is there a mysteriously appearing sign in the coffeeshop that says Honolulu Roast? Who is the Metatron? Why is there so much attention drawn to bees when Crowley goes up to Heaven? If I start with a solid question and then follow an investigative pathway, usually beginning with the Bible given the nature of this show but not always, I’ll usually find something.

There are also some Clues that we’re basically told to investigate. The books on the shelves. The movie playing in the background in The Resurrectionist Pub. These are unambiguous breadcrumbs but they’re a lot of labor. I’m not going to read all those books and watch all those movies. So pick one (1) and go read it, or watch it, and then tell us what you found, so I can read your 1,500 word piece to learn what I need to know about it. 

Sometimes you get enough information for a meta just by hanging around long enough and absorbing information. That’s how I put together my pieces on Terry Pratchett’s Death and Crowley’s Dream. The trick in this case is to be able to synthesize it, and for that, the very best way to learn how to do that is read other people’s meta.

Specializing

The asker asked the most important question of all: what’s the balance between trying to manage all the Clues or ignoring them entirely? Well, think of it this way (I’m borrowing an XKCD comic for brevity):

The takeaway here is, when you get a PhD, you become a hyperfocused expert in a very narrow topic and you’re relying on lots and lots and lots of other PhD students becoming highly specialized experts in other topics so that together you are expanding the diameter of human knowledge.

We (meta-analysts) are all getting PhDs in Good Omens, one way or another. Some people are doing their theses in color theory. I am doing mine on the concept of memory and identity permanence (though frequently dabbling in law). Yet others have flung themselves body and soul into the topic of Crowley’s gender and God bless them. Heck, there’s a team of people on Discord who are on any given day ripping the Bentley down to its studs and building it back up again. Feel free to explore while you seek out your passionate topic but don’t feel the need to tackle all of them. You’ll find the one that you fit best in. 

You do not have to solve the S3 plot puzzle by yourself. You have to find two pieces, put them together, and then go find a buddy that also has two pieces and see if your pair of pairs makes a quartet. Literally. That’s what we’re doing here guys. It’s a team effort or nothing at all.

Organize your ideas into digestible segments

Great, so you learned something new, you have a tantalizing hypothesis, and you’re ready to write! But what does a good meta look like?

Your abstract (which I recommend you write last) will go at the top, followed by evidence in a logically progressive order that finally culminates in your conclusion. If you’ve ever written a five paragraph essay, you have these tools in your toolbox. And yes, sometimes you will even need to rebut counterarguments (“but Neil said” is the bane of my existence) just like your teacher taught you. But it shouldn’t be formatted like a five-paragraph essay. This is not an 8.5”x11” sheet of paper with 1” margins: this is Tumblr.

Walls of text are great and all but reading handicaps come in all flavors and I for one benefit greatly from having section headers that help me navigate a meta. I’m much less likely to read it if all I have to find my place by is paragraph breaks.

Section headers should tell me what the next paragraph or two are about, and if I read just the section headers, I should have a pretty good idea of what evidence you’re pulling from where and what conclusion you’re going to support with that evidence.

Here’s my opinion on gifs: if I need to see Michael Sheen’s micro-expressions to really understand your point, include it. If I just need a reminder of where we are in the story, or what a costume looks like, a still is fine and less distracting. For a lot of things, though, images are unnecessary. You’ll find the right balance but don’t overburden your written work with images. I think there are quite a few people who only read my work on Ao3 because they simply don’t like the Tumblr, image-centric format.

Have a main takeaway

What does all your evidence point to? It may feel like stating the obvious, but state it anyway. Put a little ribbon on top of this gift you have given to the fandom. Label it. Tell them exactly what your conclusion is from all this information you gathered.

…but don’t feel a need to draw a firm conclusion

In my meta Continuity Errors, I conclude that Crowley stops time in order to move something that was hidden in the bookshop out of the bookshop. I do not speculate on what exactly that something is that he moved. I don’t need to. By leading others down this path, I am tapping the collective resources of the hive mind to think about what exactly was hidden with the bookshop’s protection. They may have some information I don’t because they’ve been looking other places. Not having a hypothesis for this shouldn’t (and didn’t) stop me from publishing my work.

Go back to the top and write your intro/abstract

Have you written your main takeaway? Did you support it with evidence? Good. Now take that and write a 20-30 word elevator pitch that you’re going to put at the top of the meta so that people know what it’s about before they commit to 1,000-2,000 words of being led down the garden path. I have a bad habit of burying the lead, and I’m trying to break it. For a moment people were worrying about putting big revelations below the cut so that we’re not interfering with Neil, but I don’t think Neil has ever seen my work and I doubt he ever will, and at this time my opinion is that playing “hide the lead” is more of a hindrance to the fandom than helpful to protecting the integrity of the IP. So be bold. Tell people exactly where you’re going with this and a short roadmap of how you’re going to get there. You don’t necessarily have to “give away the goods” but the theme should be obvious. An okay-ish example of an abstract is the intro to my first meta. My abstract for Continuity Errors is decidedly more tongue-in-cheek. You'll find your own style.

Cite and Tag

If you read someone’s post and it gave you a great idea, cite them as inspo! It’s a feel-good moment for them and it ties the fandom together. If you’re relying on your own prior work or someone else’s work to support a point, link the piece and tag the author. You will probably want to start copying links to metas that you like into a doc or spreadsheet to make this easier. Check out mine to get an idea of how you could organize a spreadsheet, or check out this doc to see an alternative approach to meta database management.

Speaking of which: @cobragardens, @aprilodite, @drconstellation, @vidavalor, and @irispurpurea, your work appears in this... whatever exactly this is idk.

Recruit a Mentor/beta

Various Tumblrites have published comments or posts that they are willing to beta other people’s work. Reach out to those people before you need them and ask if, whenever you’ve written your next piece, if they wouldn’t mind taking a look at it? Have an upfront discussion about turnaround time. Most of us work, and have other obligations, so it’s unlikely we can look at a thing the minute you send it to us, even if we’re active on Tumblr at that moment. Some people have set days off that they know they’ll have time to curl up with a cup of tea and read the first draft of your meta; you may find that having a weekly schedule with someone pushes you to produce and improve at a pace you wouldn’t achieve under your own steam. Writing is a skill; you get better by practicing and getting constructive feedback.

Anyways, I hope someone finds this helpful: maybe meta-analysis seems like an intimidating thing to get into, but it shouldn’t be! This is a welcoming community with room for all shapes, sizes and flavors of contributions. If you have any follow-up questions about this piece, please feel free to drop them in my ask box!

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Tess' Sharpuary - 24. Slytherin

Young Aesop Sharp takes his very first journey to Hogwarts.

chapter specific tags: prequel, friendship, coming to hogwarts

relationships: aesop sharp & aesop's auror partner, aesop sharp & abraham ronen

24. Slytherin (2.7k)

tw: mentions of parent death

The young lad had been shaking with anticipation as well as anxiety ever since he first stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express. At first, he didn’t understand why his mother insisted he ride the train, as they lived pretty much just around the corner from Hogwarts. So, instead of simply using the Floo to get to school, they had to Floo all the way to London instead, then take a carriage from the Diagon Alley to the King’s Cross station, so Aesop could spend several hours on a train going someplace he saw so many times in the distance just during his and his mum’s leisurely strolls. Well, he always saw  the top towers at the very least, anyway. 

However, he had to admit that he wasn’t exactly opposed to his mother treating him to an ice cream and hot chocolate in this neat little sweets shop before he was to depart, and once he actually did step on the train, he knew what his mother meant by saying that ‘he should experience the first train ride’. His stomach was all jittery, and pure excitement pumped through his veins as he slowly walked through the train and looked into the many compartments in search of a very special person - his best friend Ashley. He didn’t see her on the platform or boarding the train, which brought him a bit of panic, but his mother calmed him down by saying that seeing as there were hundreds of students boarding, each one having at least one parent around, finding one person among the moving crowd was next to impossible.

So, his trunk loaded, he wandered the corridor on his own until he finally spotted the very familiar shock of long blonde hair. Only, she wasn’t alone. He shyly opened the compartment door and peeked inside. His friend immediately noticed him and stood up to envelop him in a big hug, making the already blushing Aesop’s cheeks redden further. The other occupant of the compartment gave a chuckle. “See, I was right in keeping you here, he said in a jovial voice, “there’d be no point in both of you roaming the train and constantly missing each other, when your friend here proved that he would indeed actively seek you out.”

Aesop fidgeted with his hands, as was his habit when he was feeling bashful when Ash finally let him go. “Aesop, this is Abraham Ronen,” she said happily, “I wanted to go find you, but he told me it’s smarter for me to stay in case you walked by. And he was right!” Abraham extended his considerably larger hand towards the 11 year old boy, who first looked at it with mild apprehension, but then did reach out his own to shake. 

“Now,” Abraham said after the two younger students sat down, “you two needn't worry, I shan’t bore you the entire way to Hogwarts - I’ll have to meet with the prefects in a while, and will most likely only join you again shortly before we arrive at Hogsmeade station.” Ashley’s eyes lit up with curiosity: “Ooh, you’re a prefect?” Abraham’s face once more stretched in a large smile. Aesop didn’t know why, but the older boy’s presence was strangely calming, friendly and warm. Despite his initial shyness, he had to admit he already felt safe with him.

“That I am! Or, that is, I was,” the older boy said and fished in his pocket for something. He pulled out a small green pin badge upon which stood out in silver letters ‘HEAD BOY’. The two young students marvelled at the badge. 

“As you can see, I am a Head Boy now, so I can make sure you two and your classmates receive the proper care from your prefects, regardless of the house you’ll end up in. Given that I still have a few minutes to spare, why don’t you humour me and  tell me a bit about yourself? Which house do you think you will be in, which house you’d like to be in, maybe something about your family while you’re at it?”

And so Aesop and Ashley talked, sharing their views on the houses as well as their backgrounds. Abraham smiled sadly when they revealed they both came from families with a missing parent. Then however came the time for Abraham to depart for his meeting and he prepared to leave the compartment: “When I come back, we could perhaps play a little game, what do you two say? Probably best not to chance playing Gobstones here but I’m certain we’ll figure something out. Just know that you’re never truly alone in Hogwarts - while the prefects can be something of a bore oftentimes, and the professors can be quite annoying with their insistence upon favouring studies over fun, I promise each and every one of us is looking out for you, and we want you to be happy and thriving at the castle.”

And with that and a little wink, he was gone.

So the two friends, now on their own, swiftly changed into their uniforms and chatted quietly among themselves, looking out of the window at the landscape changing before their eyes. They were only interrupted once, by a sweet looking middle aged woman pushing a tray of frankly mouth-watering sweets before her. Neither of them being able to resist, they put the pocket money from their parents together, and got a nice little mix of the offered confections. With each minute, their anticipation was rising, and so did their nervousness, and by the time the sun dipped below the horizon and it started getting dark, both were positively buzzing where they sat. Abraham came back, and indeed played a little game of exploding snap with them, this time speaking about himself, his father, and his belief that fun and studies go hand in hand.

And then, when he bid them goodbye and good luck as they boarded off the train, they gave each other one more look and gulped. They were to follow a man with a large lantern, who Abraham told them was the gatekeeper, while their older classmates walked off into another direction entirely, led by the prefects. The Head Boy was unwilling to reveal to them how they’d be getting to the castle, as did their parents and all other wizards and witches they knew, so Aesop and Ashley were very much in the dark.

However, as they emerged from the path along some thick trees and onto a large bank, Aesop instantly knew why everyone was being so secretive.

He originally thought that he’d be feeling absolutely normal when he finally saw more of Hogwarts than the upper towers, but the opposite was actually true. When he finally saw the huge castle in all of its grandeur, his heart first skipped a beat and then began beating hard and fast. A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the cool evening air, and he felt a smile spreading on his awestruck face.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. The castle wasn’t even huge, it was completely humongous! Gargantuan! It stood strong above the dark murky waters upon a hill, proud and majestic, the upper towers he remembered seeing so many times in his life looked as if they were actively attempting to touch the stars up above. “Do you too have gooseflesh? Because I absolutely have gooseflesh,” Ashley whispered into his ear, and Aesop wasn’t even able to reply verbally, merely slowly nodding his head, still mesmerised by the sight.

As per the gatekeeper's instructions, they boarded the small boats that were waiting for them at a little pier in groups of four, and the boats set sail as soon as the last student from each group settled upon it. Aesop was once more mesmerised by the lights from the castle reflecting on the dark water. But then -

A shriek cut through the cool air.

“Hush now, lass!” the gatekeeper called over his shoulder at the source of the scream. It was a slight ginger girl, who was shaking and pointing somewhere on Aesop’s left. The lad turned his head, and only just managed to catch a glimpse of it with his own eyes: a dark tentacle disappearing beneath the water’s surface. “That is the Giant squid,” the gatekeeper called, his voice completely calm as if there wasn’t a monster of leviathan proportions swimming below them. “There is no need to fear it - it has lived here for hundreds of years, and will hopefully keep living here for hundreds more, as not only does it not harm students, it’s been known to actually engage in play with them. So please, no screaming and shrieking.”

Aesop’s heart still missed a beat when another tentacle shot through the water. One more thing he’ll need to get used to.

While he kept his eyes trained on the squid, he didn’t immediately notice the wall covered by ivy before them, and when he finally did, he was certain they were going to crash into it. Except they didn’t, as there was no wall. Instead, the boats effortlessly glided into what appeared a sort of underground harbour, where they all climbed out of the dinghies. They followed the gatekeeper once more, up the stairs and into some sort of courtyard. He instructed them to form a line, and enter the castle through huge double doors. He too bidded them all good luck, and departed shortly.

Their queue most likely wasn’t as organised as the gatekeeper would’ve liked, but still they did make their way inside. Another man already waited for them there, looking down at them from the top of more stairs. He appeared old, but by no means frail, and he was dressed in very fine dark purple garments.

“Welcome, first years,” he spoke, voice both authoritative and soft, “I see all of you survived your journey here in one piece. Today, you’ll be joining your classmates in their studies here at Hogwarts, and you’ll be doing so sorted into four houses. Gryffindor values those of a brave, adventurous and chivalrous heart. Hufflepuff will be most appealing to those who work hard and are able to execute patience, as well as loyalty to their friends. Those with a sharp mind, creative soul, and those seeking knowledge will find their place in Ravenclaw. And finally, wizards and witches able to survive all kinds of situations using their resourcefulness, cunningness, and ambition shall be right at home in Slytherin. 

“As a way to motivate you to reach your greatest potential, as well as uphold the high standard of Hogwarts students, you will be rewarded points for your successes. However, should you misbehave, or fail to attend to your duties as students, points will be taken from you, and therefore your whole house. In just a few short moments, we shall enter the Great Hall where you will be sorted into your respective houses. Let us make this queue a bit neater then, shall we?”

Some shuffling and moving later, the bunch of eleven year olds stood ready in rows of four, and the door in front of them opened, revealing another already opening door. They walked slowly, led by the wizard in purple robes. Aesop sensed Ashley trembling slightly next to him, so he did the only thing he thought of - he took a hold of her hand. It was warm and clammy, but Aesop didn’t mind, as his presence and touch seemed to help put the girl more at ease. This innocent childish action of comfort was well hidden by the students both in front of and behind them.

His mouth went dry, and his heart started beating wildly again when they walked through the last door, and found themselves standing in a giant room, which seemingly had no ceiling. Aesop stared above himself with a slightly opened mouth, the night sky above them littered with a million stars. Below the sky, thousands of levitating candles burned bright, just like the stars did. They were walking between four gigantic tables, all of them hosting dozens upon dozens upon dozens of students, and Aesop felt uncomfortably exposed despite being nestled safely in the middle rows of the group with Ashley. In front of them another large table stood, this one nearly horizontal to the student tables, and many adult wizards and witches sat there. His professors for the following seven years, Aesop realised.

In the centre stood a lectern in the shape of a majestic golden owl, and finally, in front of it, a simple wooden stool with a shabby, old looking hat sitting atop it. There were several moments of silence, but then Aesop’s eyes opened wide as the hat began moving. A hole opened at one side of it, and… was it singing? Indeed it was! The hat started singing, the hole in it appearing to move like a mouth would. It sang of the four houses and then of Hogwarts as a whole. It was rather strange, Aesop thought.

“I shall now call out your names alphabetically. The one I call shall come up here and take a seat on the stool, after which I’ll put the Sorting hat upon your head,” the purple clad wizard said once the hat finished its song. Aesop squeezed Ashley’s hand.

One by one, their group was becoming smaller and smaller, and Aesop had to let go of Ashley once her name was called. She walked towards the stool tensely, and gave a little jerk a second or two after the hat was placed upon her golden head. It took about fifteen seconds, but finally the hat cried loudly: “Hufflepuff!”

The Hufflepuff table broke into applause, and Ashley jumped from the stool as if a huge weight had been lifted off her chest. She gave Aesop a brilliant grin before literally skipping towards her house table. It was then Aesop remembered her mother had been a Hufflepuff as well. Aesop swallowed. 

His father didn’t attend Hogwarts, he was a muggle. And though Aesop was very young when Theodore Sharp died, Aesop was certain his father would’ve been a Hufflepuff too - hard working, patient and loyal. Or would he have been a Gryffindor? Brave and chivalrous? His mother was a Slytherin, but only just so - she told him she was almost a Ravenclaw. Back then, she didn’t tell Aesop how the sorting worked. Which was perhaps for the best; he wasn’t sure if he’d believe her had she told him the sorting was done by a shabby old hat.

Aesop considered which house he’d like to be in. And he still hasn’t decided when his name was called. His hands were now clammy too as he made his way towards the stool and sat down on it.

He soon understood why Ashley jumped upon having the Hat sat on her head.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here, hm…” came a voice from somewhere, and Aesop soon realised that somewhere was his own head. “You’re brave enough, that’s for certain, and you are thirsty for knowledge as well… Above all else, however, I can sense that you want to prove yourself. You want to prove that Aesop Sharp won’t ever back down from a challenge, and I can sense you’ve enough resourcefulness to ensure you shall succeed. I could see you performing brilliantly in whichever house I could sort you into, but I can only see you thriving in one - “

Suddenly, the voice left his head and started coming from atop it: “Better be - Slytherin!”

The Hat was lifted and he stood up again. The students sitting at the right side of the room were clapping and beckoning him closer. He gazed to the left, immediately catching Ashley’s eyes. She was still smiling, and clapping as well. He returned her smile, and began making his way to his new housemates.

A pair of sparkling eyes captured his own next. Abraham was smiling brightly, patting the spot next to him. “I knew it since I first saw you - you’re one of our own, young Aesop.” 

The eleven year old grinned at the older boy - better be Slytherin indeed.

---

a/n while adult sharp is completely irresistable to women with his handsome face and roguish personality, little sharp is completely irresistable mainly to older witches who want to pich those adorable rosy cheeks 🤭

Thank you for reading! ❤

[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]