ebneid7777-blog

[lollytea]

I am just as nitpicky as anybody else when it comes to characters I'm obsessed with. But I don't find people who mischaracterize them nearly as annoying as people who write condescending posts about others who mischaracterize them which seem more motivated by feeding their own superiority complex about Being The One Person to Understand Mr Blorbo rather than giving any constructive advice.

[borderlinereminders]

Identifying and clarifying emotions can be really helpful in learning how to cope with them.

For me, I start with “what just triggered this feeling?” No matter how small it was. Even if it was just a minor thing that unraveled a bigger issue. Maybe it’s something like your friend didn’t reply to you when you thought they would. Maybe your friend said something that unintentionally hurt your feelings.

I then focus on “what physical feelings do I have?” For example, is my heart racing? Do my hands feel shaky? Does my stomach feel like it’s turning? All of the above could indicate I’m feeling anxious. Where things like clenching your fist or feeling “hot” could indicate anger. Take a note of what you’re feeling physically and if you aren’t sure what it might indicate, looking it up might help!

The next thing I ask myself is “what urges is this feeling giving me?” If I’m feeling like yelling at someone, this could indicate anger. If I’m feeling like hiding under my blankets, this could indicate anxiety. If I’m feeling like sobbing on the floor, this could indicate grief, sadness or something like that.

Once you’ve identified your feeling(s), you can start to look at ways to deal with it. A lot of times, our urges to deal with the feelings aren’t the things we should do.

Skills like urge surfing can help with this and working on some grounding exercises might help clear your head to rationally figure out your next step. This might be where we look at how to deal with the feeling. Maybe to deal with the feeling of sadness, we need to let ourselves cry. Maybe to deal with rage, we need to scream into a pillow. Everyone is different and every situation is different but the goal is to find a way to deal with the feeling.

Another skill I usually find useful in dealing with feelings is the wise mind skill. This helps me figure out how to proceed in a situation like something a friend said unintentionally that upset me.

If I’m feeling frustrated with my friend for not replying, I may step back and look at the situation. I may be feeling frustrated because I feel like they’re ignoring me so I then consider the possibility of an alternate explanation. Could they be busy? Possibly overwhelmed? Could there be an explanation that isn’t about them ignoring me?

Another thing I ask myself is “what can I do to feel something else?” For this, I have a list of things on my phone that I know make me happy. Things like cute animal videos, my favourite songs to listen to, etc. I keep the list because these things can be hard to remember when other feelings are so strong. But a lot of the time, doing something in the list can help me get beyond the other feeling. While we do need to deal with our feelings, sometimes it isn’t the time or place and it’s better for us to focus on something else for the time being. This can also help us be able to look at the situation more rationally once we’re not so caught up in the feelings about it.

I think I could go on and on about ways to deal with different feelings, but this post is getting very long already, so I’ll leave it here.

[erwinsvow]

maybe not ward cause when is he not fake dead but it’s the fact reader would walk past rose in the hallway in just one of rafe’s shirts and both women would just share a look like 👀 ‘let’s not kid ourselves, you know, i know. can we just not…’

also apparently there was a scrapped ‘rose slept with rafe storyline’ and my first thought was wtf, then, not on my girl ‘reader’s’ watch.

it's not appropriate. you know it, rafe knows it. and the two of you should really be more careful, because it's starting to seem like neither of you care about who's at home anymore who's listening, on each other like rabbits all times of the day.

at least when wheezie was around, the two of you were more concerned, wanting to make sure she wasn't accidentally traumatized, but now she's away at camp and sarah's barely at home, so the thought of being quiet and cautious was out the door.

you're sure rafe's step-mom doesn't like you—that she thinks you're a poked hole in a condom away from being a permanent fixture in rafe's life. you've even overheard her once, asking mr. cameron to talk to rafe about easing up, that accidental pregnancies ruin lives, that you're out to ruin rafe.

your feelings are hurt, of course. you don't think there's a person in kildare who doesn't like you, and the idea that someone in rafe's family is out to break that streak stings painfully. but rafe doesn't care about his stepmom or her opinion, so you follow his lead. you tried your hardest to be nice to her, but if she didn't want to be nice back, you weren't gonna keep trying.

rafe was good about instilling his own life rules in you—first and foremost, not to bend over backwards for anyone, except him.

that's why this feels extra awkward—running into his step-mom while clad just in his button up, haphazardly thrown on so you can go down stairs to get some water. you suck in a breath, awkwardly making eye contact. you don't wanna look away first, no, rafe says the weaker one does that. you keep looking, frozen in place, wrapping your arms around yourself and bringing the rafe scented cloth closer to you.

"sorry," you start, though you don't think there's any sincerity in your apology. "if we were being too loud."

she doesn't respond, walking away. you get your water and head back up to rafe's room, wanting to tell him but feeling like you shouldn't. rafe didn't outright tell you that his step mom was suggesting something other than a normal relationship to him, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

she'll just have to keep trying, you think, leaving the door a crack open, so more sound would escape that way.

soooooo in my opinion that tracks....there's sm tension in that scene with rafe the stepmom n the knife in season two!!! i cant be the only one who picked up on that. ur so right though not on readers watch shes looking out for her man!! this got weird n darker than other stuff i write so dont send me hate just close ur eyes <3

[88-special]

Masterclass in Denial

Jeff Winger x Reader (Female pronouns)

Part 1 of 5

The 4 times you and Jeff denied your feelings for each other and the 1 time you didn't.

They were arguing again. They were always arguing. For a group of people who choose to spend all their time together they didn't seem to like each other very much. Y/n questioned her sanity, they all drove her crazy as well, but she too still chose to show up at every study group session. Maybe misery does love company, she smirked to herself.

"I just don't think it's fair!" Annie protested, "I go to every lecture, do my homework, take notes and then every time there's a test you all expect me to help you guys!" She ended her spiel with her arms crossed and a firm nod.

There was a chorus of objections, whines, and pleas from the group. Y/n mumbled about how she also has been at every class and has taken notes right alongside Annie. They quickly fell quiet when Jeff slammed his hands down on the table, starting another one of his famous pep talks. They went through this same song as dance every week it seemed. Y/n looked around the table, Annie was still pouting, but listening intently as Jeff spoke. Shirley sat alert, with her hands folded in front of her, nodding along glancing at Annie to see if the words were having their desired effect. Pierce was slouched back in his chair, head hung low - a snore escaped his open mouth, no one bothered to wake him, it was for the better. Troy and Abed were having some sort of silent conversation with a tremendous amount of eyebrow and shoulder wiggling. Britta was a near mirror image of Shirley, adding in a 'yeah' of support when appropriate.

"...In conclusion, America!"Jeff finished his monologue, plopping into his chair, arms spread wide, and a grin plastered on his face.

Annie dropped her shoulders, and sighing in defeat she pulled out her binder and began passing out individual copies of her notes. Y/n snatched her copy, eager to finally get studying and end the bickering. 

"So the test is supposed to cover chapters twelve through fourteen, I think we should quiz each other on vocab, and then-"

"VOCAB?!" Pierce cut in, irritable over the disruption of his nap. "As in vocabulary? We all already know words! How else would we be having this conversation?!"

"Pierce, you know that's not what-"

"Listen, I do know words, but what about-"

"What are these extra pages? Did we have homework?!-"

Annie, Troy, and Britta all began talking at once. Annie quickly shifted to chastise Britta. Pierce and Shirley launched into their third argument of the day. Troy and Abed pulled a magic eight ball seemingly out of thin air, to ask it if they were going to pass the test. Y/n gaped in horror before turning to Jeff who was oblivious, leaning back in his chair tapping away on his phone.

"Jeff, please do something!"

"They'll tire themselves out eventually." He shrugged without looking up.

Two hours later Y/n walked out of the library worried she was less prepared for the test than she had been this morning.

"Y/n!" Jeff called as she hurried down the steps. "Wait up!"

Y/n sighed and slowed her pace. Jeff jogged up to her, puffing out his chest as he discreetly tried to slow his breathing, ever concerned of his image.

"I think we've earned ourselves a drink over at Tavern 32."

'This must be hell, I died and this is my penance, to be stuck in an endless loop of crazy. Maybe Greendale was actually purgatory.' Y/n thought to herself. The whole reason they are all here is to finish school, get whatever degree needed, and move on with their lives, hopefully never thinking of this fever dream of a school ever again. Well, maybe not Jeff, he seemed to see the campus as his own personal dating app. Y/n resumed her gate.

"How do you figure? We didn't even open the book! Now I'm going to have to spend the rest of my night studying at home." 

"Cool, cool, I'll just grab some drinks from the store and we can have our own private study sesh at your place" Dear god, that grin, how many women has he fooled with that grin alone?

" 'No' is a full sentence Jeff. Have a good night." Y/n continued to her car and sped off without a second glance.

He just couldn't win with her, none of his usual charms worked. Even Britta has succumbed a couple times, but Y/n was immune. He tried to shake off the rejection and headed home. Telling himself the only reason it bothered him was because he hadn't won her over yet. Once she gave in, he'd lose interest, just like he always did. It was just a game. It wasn't guilt he felt earlier when she looked at him disapprovingly for not stepping in on the groups arguing. It wasn't his heart speeding up when her hand brushed his at the study table. It's just a game, give him his prize and then on to the next one. Jeff smacked the steering wheel and jerked left into the parking lot of the same bar he was trying to take Y/n to earlier. He doesn't need Y/n, he doesn't need anyone. He's Jeff fucking Winger.

The next morning Jeff sat slumped in his chair. Sunglasses on, clutching his third espresso like a lifeline. Y/n took her usual seat next to him, slamming her notebook on the table, relishing in the groan that emitted from her hungover classmate.

"Studied too hard last night?" She mused. 

Jeff lifted his head to reply. He swore she couldn't be more perfect, but here she was, light streaming from the window behind her, setting her aglow, that huge ugly sweater swallowing her whole, and her unbrushed hair sticking out in every direction. She was holding out a breakfast sandwich to him. Jeff lifted his sunglasses with a questioning look.

"Sausage, egg, and cheese, best hangover cure there is." She beamed at him.

"How did you - "

"Good morning class, clear off your desks, you have forty-five minutes to complete..."

Y/n shifted her attention to their professor. Jeff dug into the sandwich, the grease immediately working its magic. As he ate, he snuck glances at the girl next to him. He needed to stop chasing her, she was way too good for him.

Part 2

[celestiall0tus]

Court of Miracles - Chapter 16 - Talk to Me

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Sass stepped off the teleportation pad in the greenhouse. He carried Juleka through the gardens to a new room in the back nestled in a forest glade. He set her down on the bed and covered her as he heard footsteps behind him. He stood as Plagg and Tikki stood in the doorway with Gimmi beside them.

            “Well, well, been a while, Sass. You know, it does fall on the kwami to punish their own heirs, not for the other kwamis to punish them,” Plagg mewed.

            “That’s rich, coming from you. There’s only one instance of you punishing your heirs when there were countless other times you should have,” Sass hissed.

            “Really? I didn’t think they did anything wrong.”

            “Of course, you didn’t. However, if you intend to tell me to heal your heir, I won’t.”

            “Oh, that? Please, I know better. You and Longg are the most stubborn of all of us. There is no convincing either of you once your mind is set.”

            “Then why are you all here?”

            Gimmi stepped forward. “Sass, we’re no fools. You’re plotting something. What is your aim?”

            “You should know better than anyone, Gimmi,” Sass hissed.

            “Do you truly intend to bring back the court to what it was?”

            Sass laughed. “I don’t have such power, but I will remind them. I will remind them all how far they’ve fallen. You saw tonight. You saw them. They are the embodiments of us! Where everyone sees a monster, we see ourselves. We see what we lost. But also what we could have again. Is it wrong that I want more of that? Is it wrong that I don’t want Juleka to be the last? Is it wrong that I’m sick of the waves of Elders futile efforts to fix the court? No one is going to fix it except ourselves!”

            “I agree,” Gimmi said.

            “You… what?”

            “Yeah! Even the Highborns amongst mine are dwindling fast. Marinette is one of a few Highborn I have left. I’m scared to lose them and be stuck with those Midborns, and worst, the Lowborns. I want my connection with my clan. I want my own shifter too!” Tikki complained.

            “As would I,” Plagg added.

            “I would like to not see my clan’s blessing vanish. You know once mine is gone, you all will lose yours too,” Gimmi warned.

            Sass tensed up. “What do you propose then?”

            “We are gathering tonight while the heirs are disoriented from Juleka’s outburst. We aim to build a case as a plea to Velze. We’re not ready to move on, so we must take action. However, we have dangerous aims standing against Father. Tikki and Plagg stand with me, but I need another. I need someone like you, Sass. I need a kwami with a shifter heir.”

            “There’s Ziggy,” Sass countered.

            “Do you honestly think I would trust Ziggy with this type of thing?” Gimmi shot back.

            Sass grimaced but didn’t answer.

            “I didn’t think so. Listen, I know I ask a lot, but this cannot continue this way. You and Juleka made us aware at the Solstice. You made Velze aware too. Please, we need your help in making our case.”

            “I… I don’t know.”

            “Then let me help you. If we sit aside forever, all the blessings will break, and these mortals will become mundane. Once they are mundane again, we move on. As Velze would decree, we would, but many are not ready to move on. They want to stay with these mortals longer. We can prolong our stay, but we need you. Please, will you help?”

            Sass sighed. “You know this is a fool’s endeavor doomed to fail, right?”

            “Maybe, but so long as there is one fool left to fight, no cause is doomed. We are those fools. Will you join us?”

            Gimmi held out a hand for Sass. Sass looked at it, sighed, and took it.

            “Thank you,” Gimmi said.

            “What’s the plan?”

            “We build our case, then we’ll converge at moon high to have our council with Father.”

            “That doesn’t give us much time.”

            “Then we better get started.”

~~

            Luka sat at the edge of the council room while the other heirs bickered and fought over what to do about Juleka. Annoyance and frustration tore through him as he listened to their muddled declarations that Juleka was dangerous and a problem to be dealt with. He attempted to block them out and focus on other things in the room.

            Luka looked around and eyed Felix and Marinette. Felix had passed out from blood loss, but his wounds clotted soon after. Marinette, Socqueline, and Bridgette worked on bandaging Felix to keep the wounds from reopening. Aside from them, he eyed Marc sitting at the table with his brows knotted and eyes on the table, deep in thought.

            Luka moved to speak with Marc when a hand pulled him back. He turned to see Ziggy. Her hazel eyes a deep, crimson red. He opened his mouth, but she pressed her finger against his lips.

            “Luka, calm down. You’re making things worse for yourself. Let us at least get you some food,” Ziggy said.

            “What are you talking about?” Luka demanded.

            “Right. Remember earlier when food didn’t fill you up?”

            “I mean, I guess. I assumed it just hit later after I had, er, spent the afternoon with Adrienne.”

            “Oh, sweet summer child, no. That apple had nothing to do with it. Especially considering Adrienne is likely still back at her place, passed the fuck out after an exhausting, but blissful afternoon.”

            Luka blushed and looked away.

            “That’s what I thought. Luka, honey, you don’t feed like normal heirs. You’re a goat shifter, so your needs are… different.”

            “Different how?”

            “Well, let’s just say that you don’t need food or sleep anymore. The way you get your energy is through positive, nourishing vibes. You know, like the ones at a party or when you’re with Adrienne. You’re happy then, right? Surrounded by positive energy?”

            “It felt like that, and it was nice.”

            “And when Juleka crashed the party?”

            Luka hesitated. “It felt… draining being around her. I felt the hunger clawing at me again.”

            “As you would. See, those negative energies will exhaust you and starve you. It’s the same if you give off bad energy yourself.”

            “Really? So, what? Am I supposed to be happy all the time?”

            “Well, no, but just don’t let your negative emotions get too extreme like Juleka does. So long as you continue to manage your emotions in a healthy way, you won’t starve yourself. Speaking of bad energy, we should do something, shouldn’t we?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Ziggy held up a finger as she approached the council table. “Hey! Everyone! C’mon, let’s lighten up the mood, yeah?”

            “Ziggy, with all due respect, now is not the time for a party. We need to figure out what to do about that beast,” Wayhem declared.

            “She’s not a beast, Wayhem. She’s a shifter. The first anyone has been in a thousand years. We need to be approaching her more cautiously,” Max protested.

            “Yeah! You all should have seen her poor soul. It’s broken. Being intoxicated didn’t help her mental state either and you all want to punish her. We should be helping her, not punishing her!” Ondine added.

            “Her emotions ran wild. You could tell she was running purely on them,” Alya said.

            “Her emotions or her anger?” Aurore challenged.

            “Can’t you see the anger is a mask? She’s hurting, but of course you wouldn’t understand that now, would you?” Alya shot back.

            “I get it! Juleka needs help, but you’ll have two unstable shifters to deal with if you all keep this up,” Ziggy warned.

            “Oh, great! What’s wrong with the man whore?” Wayhem demanded.

            “Deep throat a cactus, Wayhem. Anyway, Luka doesn’t sustain himself like you all anymore. To survive, he needs to feed off positive energy.”

            Marc raised a brow. “What kind of positive energy are we talking about?”

            “Oh, just positive energy, really. I’ve found that parties are typically the best since everyone is usually indulging in sins like gluttony, lust, and sloth that everything is nice and laid back. It’s once the negative energy crops up that it drains him and makes him hungry. Like the whole fight earlier.”

            “And that whole incident has left him drained?” Max asked while taking notes.

            “Oh, yes. He was completely full before the party, but that whole spat completely starved him,” Ziggy answered.

            “Uh, Ziggy? I don’t-,” Luka started.

            “How could you tell he was full?” Max interrupted.

            “His eyes. If they’re bright and lively, he’s full. However, if they darken, he’s getting hungry. And trust me, you don’t want a goat shifter’s eyes to turn black. Oh boy!” Ziggy added.

            “Fascinating. Luka, what were you doing earlier that worked so effectively to fill you?” Max questioned.

            “I, er, was with Adrienne,” Luka admitted.

            “Just being with Adrienne was enough? Interesting.”

            “Oh, Luka, you modest boy. I see how you are. The kiss and don’t tell type,” Ziggy blurted.

            “Ziggy,” Luka hissed.

            “What? You’re revelry, baby! Take pride in the fact you rode the bitch hard and true for hours.”

            Luka blushed while Wayhem snorted.

            “Please. You don’t honestly expect us to believe that, do you?”

            “Believe what you will, but there’s a reason that even Jagged had people coming back for seconds and more.”

            Ziggy opened her mouth to continue, but she stopped. Her eyes shifted from deep red to dark blue. Luka pursed his lips as a wave of longing and temptation crashed into him. He paled as he painfully recognized the carnal desire that followed it.

            Aurore stepped up leaned over, propping herself up with her arm. “You know, I never really hated you.”

            Luka cringed and forced a smile as he stepped back. “Right, well, that’s nice to know, but-.”

            “Uh, Luka?” Zoe asked sheepishly.

            Luka dropped the smile and stared down at Zoe.

            “We, uh, we could hang out, if you’d like. No pressure, but-,” Zoe attempted.

            Chloe walked up and pushed Zoe away. “Out of here, half-pint.”

            “No fair, Chloe! You always said-!” Zoe started.

            Chloe wrapped her arms around Luka. “Don’t mind her. She’s just a little jealous is all. Who wouldn’t be when you could have someone as bountiful as me.”

            “Right, right. Uh, very flattering, but I-,” Luka started.

            Kim grabbed Luka’s horns and pulled him away from Chloe. Luka bleated in shock as Kim manhandled him into a headlock. Ondine lightly slapped Kim’s chest, then smiled at Luka.

            “You know, you’re always welcome in the swan district. We always have plenty of good vibes, and eats, too. Don’t forget the eats. Absolutely divine, if you want to partake, of course,” Ondine said.

            Kim grinned as he messed with Luka’s horns. “I would love to test how good these are as handlebars.”

            Luka flushed as he squirmed uneasily. He opened his mouth when he was teleported away next to Alix. She grinned and put an arm around him.

            “Say, Luka. From one party bitch to another, we’re going to get real familiar with each other’s bodies, so how about we start now?” Alix offered.

            Luka’s blush deepened, his eyes widened, and he pursed his lips. Alix opened her mouth to speak again when she was pushed aside by Alya and Fei Wu. Luka opened his mouth as Alya pressed her face against his, Fei leaned against his left side, and Mylene took his arm and wrapped it around her.

            “Ignore the bear cub, sweetness. You’ve better options than a filthy bear. What you need is a strong woman that knows no fear,” Fei Wu propositioned.

            “Oy! The fuck did you say about me, bitch!” Alix roared.

            “Don’t start fights you can’t finish, cub,” Fei Wu warned.

            “Oh yeah? Watch me! Bring it bitch!”

            Alix tackled Fei Wu as they rolled around on the floor. Luka grimaced at the pair when Alya moved where Fei Wu stood.

            “Such barbarians, aren’t they? I think you’d benefit more from the company of someone far more in tune and in control of their emotions,” Alya suggested.

            “But just enough wild to send you soaring into the skies,” Mylene added.

            “Alright, enough!” Luka yelled.

            Mylene and Alya jumped back as Luka turned to face everyone.

            “What makes any of you think I’m going to sleep with any of you?” Luka demanded.

            “Oh, what’s the matter, fuckboy? Too scared to embrace your concept just as your whore father did? Or are you afraid that all of Ziggy’s praise is nothing but lies and you’re just a disappointment of a lover and goat just as you were as a snake?” Wayhem challenged.

            Luka’s nostrils flared. “Fuck you, Wayhem. Fuck all of you! I’m not Jagged. I’m not just going to abandon how you all treated me in the past. Me and Adrienne alike. Now you sit here, discussing my fucking sister and treating her like she’s not even human. What makes you think I’d want any of you?”

            Alix stopped wrestling Fei Wu and teleported onto the table. “Oy! The fuck you mean all of us? News flash, goat boy, not all of us cared about you and Adrienne. Some of us don’t even care about your sexy sister. Well, we do, but not in the ways you think. Don’t lump us all in the same pile, but don’t mistake this as being all about you either!”

            Marc moved around the table to Luka. “Alix is right. I’m not touching on the subject of your relationship with Adrienne. It’s not my place. However, Juleka did overstep a line. She needs help, a lot of help. I don’t think punishing her is the right call, but we need-.”

            “Oh, we’re not punishing her after she killed both Luka and Felix?” Wayhem challenged.

            “What? No, of course not! We need-!” Marc attempted.

            “Oh, I see what’s going on. You think you finally have a chance at indulging your sick fantasies, don’t you, Marc? What better than the newest fuckboy.”

            “What? No. No! This has nothing to do about Luka. You all can fight over him, but don’t drag me into this. I’m just-!”

            “Just shooting your shot like everyone else here? Yeah, we can tell. Don’t think you’re fooling anyone here, Marc. We all know better. You’ve wanted nothing more than to fulfill your sick perversions. At least the rest of us have the decency to still like the opposite sex. What’s your excuse?”

            Marc’s jaw dropped as he stared out at everyone. He fought for words as tears burned his eyes. Rage tore through Luka at Wayhem’s words. He summoned his weapon, a pitchfork, and threw it at Wayhem. Wayhem screamed out as the pitchfork impaled his right shoulder. He snorted, scooped up Marc, and headed out.

            “U-uhm, Luka? Where are we going? Are we-?”

            “No. I’m taking you back to the Cicada District. I think we’ve both had enough for tonight.”

            “R-right. Um, could we though?”

            “Pardon?”

            Marc paled. “I mean, obviously we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just… I mean… I wouldn’t mind. I would like to… you know, experience that at least once.”

            “Marc?”

            “I… I know it’s silly. Sitting here in your arms begging to be, you know. I just… I get curious, but also envious. I see the lot of the court members happily and openly be with people they love or just find attractive. I’ve tried to reach out. I’ve tried to be with other men, but whenever I try to make that first move, I feel all this weight fall on me. I’m one of the last cicadas with powers. I am one of the last with Gimmi’s blessing. I should be with a woman, but I… I.”

            Marc sighed as he trailed off. He laid his head on Luka’s shoulder and stared out.

            “I need to continue my bloodline. I need to offer my clan an heir with powers, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t be with a woman. I can only find comfort with men. And it sucks. I just… I want to be able to know what it’s like, even if just once. Oh, who am I kidding, I know better. It would only ever be once with how much they belittle me for it. I just wish I knew what was wrong with me.”

            “Nothing is wrong with you, Marc. It’s Wayhem and people like him that are the problem. You’re allowed to love who you want.”

            “Easy for you to say, Luka. No offense, but you’re a goat. You’re at the very bottom. It’s not… it’s not like me.”

            “You’re right, it’s not, but that doesn’t change the truth of it. You should be allowed to love who you want. Damn what everyone else thinks.”

            “If only.”

            Luka frowned, then smiled. “I have an idea. Let’s enjoy the night away from everyone. Perhaps things could lead back to your place later. How’s that sound.”

            Marc’s face turned bright red. “That’s more than perfect. Wonderful. Amazing. No complaints. Nope. None at all.”

            “Good. Let’s enjoy the night, just you and I.”

~~

            Luka stepped off the teleportation pad to the greenhouse. He curled his lip at the humidity even in the early morning sun. He took a step when his path was blocked by Sass.

            “Why are you here?” Sass demanded.

            “I came to speak with Juleka,” Luka said.

            Sass looked Luka up and down. “Are you sure you should be talking to her in your condition? You look ravenous. Didn’t find a good meal last night?”

            “I… no.”

            Sass hummed. “Shame. From what I hear from Longg and Gimmi, Marc has never been happier.”

            “Yeah, well, his guilt and shame runs deep thanks to the court. It made things… less than ideal.”

            “Such is life. Now go.”

            “No. I’m not leaving until I speak with Juleka.”

            “Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to speak with her when she’s going to have a hangover from hell and you’re starved?”

            “You can medicate her hangover, can’t you?”

            “Perhaps, but that doesn’t help that you’re starved.”

            “Well, no, but after last night, things aren’t exactly good. And I don’t want to completely drain Adrienne especially since she doesn’t even know yet. So, what can I even fucking do?”

            “I’m available,” Mylene said.

            Luka jumped back as Mylene landed between him and Sass.

            “Morning, Mylene,” Sass muttered.

            “Morning, Sass. So, what do you say, Luka? I know a nice nearby creek with a lovely deep hole. Oh, and the lovely babbles of it with all the little dragonlings. And we don’t have to worry about being interrupted or negative energy. It’d just be you and me. What do you say?”

            Luka scratched the back of his head as he considered. “I suppose it could be refreshing to wash in, uh, the creek water. Uh, lead the way?”

            Mylene grinned and led Luka away. Sass watched the pair vanish before he turned around.

            “You walk with death, Juleka.”

            A moment passed before Juleka stepped out into the archway with her head down.

            “Morning, Juleka.”

            Silence.

            Sass furrowed his brows. He approached Juleka and lifted her chin. His eyes widened as he saw her red puffy eyes and tear and makeup-stained face.

            “Juleka?” Sass asked.

            “I… I thought she liked me. I… I thought we could… we could be more. Why does everyone like Luka more than me? Why does no one love me?”

            “Juleka, easy. It’s not-.”

            Juleka broke down into sobbing fits. Sass watched her run off and disappear. He sighed, looked away, then back in the direction she ran off in.

            “This will be a long day.”

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[spkyspc]

drizzle

for once in my life, i finally asked him out. it's quite a ride really, we had our ups and downs but for once, its official. well, not yet at least, but a date is a start to it; that being a few minutes later so. all i could do as of now is just wait. he's always been a little shy in the brinks of our eyes meeting, but i hope today changes that thought of his - it just has to. a change in our ever-so-cycling routine of constant interactions, it's about time.

it's 8pm and drizzle began to drip down as the night sky shuts its starry gaze with a camouflaging haze. at that point, i was already near arriving the supposed place of where everything should unfold. its a pity really; i didn't bring an umbrella and what else a ruiner it is that an outfit meant to please the eye be ruined by smudges of small drops and stops.

as i stepped out of the cab i ordered; giving the payment for my ride, i felt this uneasy feeling of warmth and shiver - two sets of emotion polar opposite to eachother yet are intertwined at this moment on. expecting the light from the cafe shine onto the car instead blocked by a shadow. with instinct, i turn around to not be surprised by the gentleman who we offered dinner to.

i say so as i know it's one of his attempts to persuade, but let me remind you it isn't yet the main event

"can't stay wet yet, you know," he says. "save that thought for after-dinner at least". silence fills the room until he breaks into laughter while taking back his words into a joke.

i love that about him

we've been friends for quite some time, hearing stuff like this is normal - though an occasion as this? i can't help but think different of it

as we escort ourselves to the entrance of the cafe, we ask whether seats are available; no, says the receptionist. "wait, I thought you did the reservations," i say. "but you asked me out???," reply he.

as our eyes lock during a stressful exchange, a conclusion was set that a change of plans had to be made. we apologised immediately to the receptionist and bid our fairwell amidst the rain.

so, what now?

the rain is beginning to catch on into a more intense weather; leaving us two in the rain beneath a singular umbrella. drips, tacks and taps could be heard from the umbrella; the cold breeze finishes as the cherry on top, but what stops me from thinking of those struggles is just being beside him.

he's warm, so very warm. i could listen to his heavy breathing despite the loud shudders of the surroundings - you could say it's alarming. from this on, all i wanted to do was just get closer to him. feel all the more warmer, i want him to be my blanket or at least just a hug is enough.

i couldnt help but get lost in thought until he began to speak his mind - "you know, we should really find something to do before things get worse, maybe find cover or at least the nearest restaurant? it doesnt need to be fancy."

"you hungry?" i ask

"not really," he answered, then in a panic: "but let's not waste any more time, we gotta find someplace before it all goes away"

"right," i say. i take my phone out and start loo-

all of sudden, my hand was dragged - we're both running now. phone still being held; the umbrella was shut closed and whats left is just us two sprinting through the rain ontop of the city pavement.

he's laughing, and i can't help but chuckle a bit as well. his hand wrapped around my wrist, all i could focus of now is just the sight of him and me running through the streets. the city lights shunning our eyes uniformly as we pass through them one by one.

as we ran, i asked while out of breath "where are we going?"

"no idea!!!!" he replied with a burst of ecstasy.

editor's note: sooo uhhhh this is my first ever post and one shot, if there's anything that u guys think i should write or maybe if u wanna share ur thoughts, feel free to say anything! also, im a bit new to tumblr so pls do share on what i should do and most importantly, hope u enjoyed this one shot :D

[12romy]

Hi I know this I cheeky…but I failed my driving test and have had food poisoning this week. Is there anyway I could ask for a little Chewis prompt to be written? ANYTHING you like? It would cheer me up so much!

Hi darling!!! It's no problem at all, don't hesitate to ask! It always makes me happy to write prompts, and never hesitate to ask for specific stuff, too, if you want to!

I'm sorry you had such a back week, I hope you're feeling better... And I'm sure you'll pass your driving test next time!

I didn't really know what to write so, this is in the change of habits verse, end of season 2023! No real plot, just a fluffy slice of life ahah

Charles steps inside the silent house, dropping his bag and suitcase in the hall, and goes to faceplant on the couch as soon as he's out of his shoes and coat.

The season is finally over, thank god. Of course, he'll have to go back to Maranello, soon. Back to work, back to a shitty car and a shitty team. He'd rather not think about it right now.

He's tired. He hates himself for wishing he were in another team next year.

He doesn't know how long he stays on the couch, brooding, but soon enough the door opens. He perks up immediately, like an eager puppy when his owner gets back.

He rushes to the door, and literally throws himself in Lewis' arms. His boyfriend catches him, dropping bag and suitcase to do so, and makes them spin as Charles wraps his legs around his waist.

"I missed you!" Charles exclaims. He tries to kiss Lewis, but aims wrong because of the motion, and only catches the corner of his lips. Lewis stops spinning them around, and allows Charles to kiss him properly.

"It's been three days, darling," he chuckles.

"We've seen each other from afar in the paddock, it doesn't count," Charles pouts. "We didn't have any time for ourselves since Vegas!"

"I did miss this," Lewis nods, kissing him again before putting him down - or rather, tries to. Charles doesn't want to let go, and Lewis giggles at the way he's gripping onto him. "Fine, fine, I get the message, we're gonna cuddle. Can I just take my shoes off, first?"

"Fine," Charles agrees, sulking a little as he lets go of Lewis.

"How about we take a shower before cuddling? I smell like sweat and the inside of the airplane, not the best combo," Lewis suggest, and Charles has to admit he has a point.

"We can take a bath, instead," he offers. "That way we can get clean and cuddle at the same time."

Lewis has always been a pro at self-care, and so he draws them a warm bath, adding all sorts of products in it - all 100% plant based and organic - that smell amazing. He also lights up candles and incense sticks, and even adds actual rose petals to the water. Charles has no idea where they come from.

In the meantime, Charles prepares them some snack. Nothing too grand, just some fresh fruits and an assortment of dry nuts. He then puts on some jazz, a kind of music neither of them listens to much except when taking baths, and they settle in the tub. Lewis is resting his back against him and his head is on his shoulder, which allows Charles to wrap his arms around him.

The next couple of hours, after the bath, are used to undo each of Lewis' braids while distractingly watching a movie.

Charles realises Lewis fell asleep once he's finished, and smiles to himself. He manages to take a selfie with Lewis sleeping against him, and make it his new wallpaper.

He wonders what to do, then. Whether he should get up to make dinner, or maybe wake Lewis up.

He decides to do neither. He stays right there, half-sitting-half-laying on the bed, with Lewis pressed against him. They both could use the rest. They'll figure out dinner later.

He thinks distantly that going back to the factory will be even more painful, since it means leaving all this behind.

Better not to think about it, he still has a few of weeks in front of him. They're going to celebrate Christmas with their families, first in Monaco then in England. After that, they're going to America for the new year, before coming back home for Lewis' birthday.

He should look forward to it. So why can't he stop the anxiety rising in him at the thought of going back to Maranello?

Lewis makes a small noise in his sleep, and Charles is pulled out of his own mind immediately. Right. Lewis is here, with him. As long as they'll be together, he will be fine.

He can face anything.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 21

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Another quick under 3,000 word update for you guys :) Enjoy!

When it's quiet, Carl and I go visit Sophia's grave together.

Under the low-hanging oak tree is a whole long line of graves, many more than the last time I stood here, all marked with their own wonky, homemade cross. Rings, necklaces, hand-written notes and little trinkets hang from each one, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. I wonder which belongs to the one I killed the other night, which mound of dirt and death I'm responsible for. I wonder if they know I'm sorry.

I don't have to wonder which is Sophia's. I know already. It's the one with the Cherokee roses laying on it.

I step forward and carefully place Matilda against the white petals, making sure her yarn-hair is neat and her dress is as it should be, while Carl lays the Pokémon folder down next to it. When I promised Carol I'd return the doll to her someday, I never imagined it would be like this.

As we step back, I grab Carl's hand and tell the small grave, "Wherever you are, I hope you get to play again."

Thoughts and prayers, I think they say. I don't think they ever done any good to nobody. If God was listening to silly things like thoughts and prayers, this tree would be someplace we could play together, and not the graveyard it's turned into. Those roses would've worked. But it's like Shane said. Sophia was weak. Just 'cause it don't sound nice, don't mean it ain't true. She was weak, and she paid the price for it. I wish I could do more than just stand here and miss her, but maybe I can also learn from what she couldn't, be stronger, live what she didn't get to.

I ain't never seen much purpose in death, but maybe that's it. Maybe like scars, all they do is make us stronger.

"We'll miss you, Sophia." Carl utters, squeezing my fingers. "I'm sorry we couldn't find you."

When he starts sniffling, I feel even emptier than I already do. I should cry with him, but I can't. I don't know why. I've always been a bit of a crier. It was one of the things Merle hated most about me. If you're gonna be angry, be angry, but don't start cryin' too while yer at it. He used to need to shout at me and shake me by the shoulders to get me to dry up, but now I've dried up all on my own.

"She'd dead, Carl." I mumble, turning away. "Ain't no tears ever saved nobody."

When we make it back up to the gate where Dad's waiting for us, he doesn't mention my scowl. He kisses my hair and leads us up the path. When we get there, Carl drags me to the spot behind his family's tent, 'cause apparently he wants to show me something.

"You gotta promise not to tell." He warns as he pulls a gun from underneath a rock. "I stole it this morning from Dad."

My eyes go wide. I was not expecting a gun. Carl's more the type of person to steal a cookie before dessert, not guns.

I quickly duck down, glancing around to make sure none of the adults saw. "What the Hell, Carl?"

"You remember Shane was gonna take us for shooting lessons, right? Well, that's not happening anymore. We gotta do it ourselves."

"Are you serious? Your parents are gonna kill ya if they find out, you moron."

"Duh. That's why I'm not gonna tell 'em."

"Adults like to know where kids are." I scold him harshly. "You wanna end up like Sophia?"

"No," He says firmly. "I wanna end up like you. You know all about surviving. You know plants, and birds, and animals. I know nothing."

He's right, I suppose. He doesn't really know anything. He didn't grow up around hunters, didn't live by the woods, didn't get compasses and boots and BB guns for his birthdays. I bet he's never even killed before, neither. Not even a rat in the rafters. Just like Sophia, he knows nothing.

I would like to teach Carl what I know, but I've never done somethin' like this. Unsure, I grumble, "I don't like gettin' in trouble."

"It's fine. We'll be quick." He assures me. "And if we get caught, I'll just say the whole thing was my idea."

I pin him with a look. "It was your idea."

"Exactly. Besides, you got lost in the woods for two whole days and you were fine. I'll be in good hands. So you coming, or what?"

I sigh. "You're gonna go no matter what I say, ain't ya?"

"Mm-hmm."

I roll my eyes. Finally, someone as stubborn as I am. That settles it, then.

"Fine." I say. "I'll come."

He pumps his fist excitedly. "Yes!"

"But lemme grab somethin' first before we leave."

He tucks the gun into his pants line and follows after me as I make my way to mine and Dad's camp. When I stop in front of the motorcycle parked in the shade, he asks what I'm doing, but I wordlessly flip the saddlebag open and pull out a shiny, mean-lookin' Bowie knife.

He blanches at the sight of it as I strap the sheath to my belt loop. "That's the biggest knife I've ever seen."

"Used to be my Uncle Merle's." I say absentmindedly, before nodding him toward the treeline. "Let's go."

"For the record," Carl hums as we walk along the marshy creek, "I think the missing ear makes you look super badass."

I give him a light shove, making him stumble and giggle. "Keep talkin', and you'll be missin' yours in a minute."

"What? You don't think you look badass?"

"Not really."

"Well, I say you do. And I'm always right."

"No, you ain't. Hey, look. Mushrooms."

We skip across a toppled log laying in the water and leap onto the other side, approaching a cluster of brown mushrooms sprouting from the base of a fat tree. Morels, made obvious by their wrinkly, honey-comb caps. I pull him down with me and start plucking some.

"These are Morels." I explain, handing him a stubby, dark-colored stalk. "Here. You can eat 'em."

He takes it from me like it's a bomb. "Are you sure? How can you tell?"

I snap another off. "'Cause they're ugly and they smell like bread."

He grins in amazement as I pop it in my mouth without hesitation. Encouraged to do the same, he takes a little nibble of his.

I watch his eyes go wide. As expected, he seems to like it. "Tastes like nuts."

"The darker the cap, the more flavor ya get. Not that you'd be worryin' too much about that when you're dyin' in the woods, I guess."

"Still a cool fact, though." He takes my hand and stands up. "Let's go find some more stuff."

Happy to keep exploring, we wonder from tree to tree, bush to bush, rock to rock. I teach him which berries will make you froth at the mouth and die and which ones will taste like sour candies, how to tell poison oak from regular leaves, which mark on the ground means what.

I even teach him to make a whistle from a mottled wax-leaf, which he seems to find very fun.

He blows through it for a hundredth time, making the ringing in my ears turn piercingly loud.

"Quit that noise, dumbass." I complain, reaching to snatch it from him.

He comes to a sudden halt, leaf falling from his lips.

"What is it?" Frowning, I turn to what he's looking at.

There's a walker stood on the bank opposite us, its foot caught under the thick, gummy mud. It keeps trying to break free, but it's skinny as a twig and useless as a newborn deer, so it ain't gettin' outta there any time soon, which is good for us but bad for him, I guess.

Watching it flail around, Carl wonders, "Should we shoot it?"

It'd make an easy target, but I got no interest in killin' that thing. Might be the one that bit Sophia. It deserves to suffer.

"Nah." I sourly disagree, turning away. "Let's just leave it there. We can go shoot somethin' else."

He gives it one last glance before falling into step with me. "Okay. Like what?"

"Somethin' that's useful. Rabbit, maybe."

"Ooh, you can teach me to skin it. You ever done that before?"

Have I ever killed and skinned a rabbit?

Pssh. "That's funny, Carl."

He giggles at that.

We return to the farm about an hour later with a dead hare. I offered to carry it, but Carl says he likes having it slung over his shoulder 'cause it makes him feel like a strong caveman, whatever that means. I tracked it and taught him to shoot the thing, but I guess it was him that shot it dead so technically, it's his kill. His first ever kill. He didn't get squeamish or nothin', not even when I flayed its skin off with the knife.

"That was awesome," He exclaims, not caring that there's blood all over his shirt. "Where'd you even learn to shoot?"

Tall grass and laughter come to mind, but as we approach the gate, I settle on shrugging, "Doesn't matter."

"Well, I can't believe an eight-year-old got to learn to shoot before I did."

I unlatch it and open it for him, joking, "Maybe it's 'cause I'm better behaved."

"You know what," He lilts as he steps past, "You're probably right."

I lock it closed and follow him along the path back to camp, feeling more and more grateful that I'm behind him and can hide a little when I realize we weren't as sneaky as we thought we were, as Rick, Lori, Dad, and Dale jump out their seats at the sight of us approaching.

My stomach does a weird little flip at the angry look on Dad's face. I have to remind myself things are different now.

"Where were you?" Lori screeches, running to crouch in front of us. "You silly boy, where were you?"

"We just went out for a bit, Mom. We're fine." He seems to think showing her the hare won't make things ten times worse. "Look!"

Before she can lose her mind again, Dad snatches it off him. "What the Hell were y'all thinkin'?"

"I'm sorry, Dad." I tell him. "I just—"

"You disobeyed me, is what you did." He scolds. "'Stay where I can see ya.' Ain't that what I always say?"

"It's what we say, too." Rick frowns. "You know it's dangerous out there. There's a reason we have rules."

"And there's a reason we keep the gun bag away from children." Dale raises a brow. "We know there's a pistol missing, son."

Lori holds out her hand. He makes a big deal out of pulling the gun out and handing it over. 

"You too, Harley. Where'd you get that knife?"

"It's Merle's." Dad gruffly answers for me. He doesn't take it, but I can tell he's disappointed. Feels so wrong not gettin' belted for this.

"Guys, she didn't even wanna come at first." Carl says. "It was my idea. I asked her to. I thought it would be safer with the both of us."

"So, what you're saying is you not only stole from us and snuck out without permission," Chides Rick, "But you put Harley in danger, too."

"I— I didn't think I was."

"As the older child, you should've known better. You need to look out for her, Carl. This isn't a joke."

Dad scoffs, "Nah, she's more'un capable of followin' orders on her own. She knows not to sneak out."

"Tell you what, we can go shootin' sometime soon if that's somethin' you feel you wanna do, but you cannot do this again."

Lori adds, "Ever."

"Is that clear?"

I nod straight away, but Carl takes a little longer before he gives in. "Do we at least get to eat the rabbit?"

"If you promise you won't try gettin' another one for tomorrow's dinner."

He sighs moodily. "Fine. Okay."

"Glad we're finally on the same page."

As Lori leads Carl away to get him changed into a shirt that's not so blood-soaked, he throws me an apologetic look over his shoulder. He didn't mean for us to get in trouble. Rick leaves to replace the gun, Dale resumes watch duty, and Dad drags me back to our camp without another word. I don't bother saying sorry again. I know he don't appreciate being told the same thing twice, so I keep my mouth shut.

I half expect him to lay me over his knee the second we make it back, but all he does is sit me down on the stump.

"You sit here for however long I feel's right, and you think about how you done wrong."

As he walks off to start preparing the rabbit, I take great effort in keeping my jaw from dropping.

Time-out. I ain't ever been in time-out before. Usually, I just get whipped and that's it, but things really are different now.

I accept my punishment without complaint, watching him gut the hare and slice it into small strips, laying them out on the rocks around the crackling fire. I wonder if he's letting me keep the knife because I did a good job skinning. I hope so. He taught me how, after all.

Once the meat's cooked, which takes about ten short minutes, he beckons me off the stump with a nod of his head.

"Come get some food, chicken."

I hop off and approach him unconfidently, taking the mug of browned meat that he offers me.

"Carl was smart takin' you with him." He says. "Would'a fucked that poor animal up, otherwise."

I find myself trying not to smile. I think I like time-out.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"I don't like what you did, Harley. You went and did somethin' behind my back." I understand that. It wasn't right. "But you wanna start doin' some things on yer own, I'm more'un happy to let you, baby, you know that. Simple things, like havin' yer own knife. I'll allow that."

I perk up a little. "I can keep Merle's knife?"

"Yeah. A gun, though, we'll have to work up to. You got plenty people around here ready to protect you with guns, already. But it's important to know how to shoot one, anyway, so when Rick takes Carl, he can take you, too. Certified instructor, and all that."

That's more than fair. "Alright. Thank you, Dad."

"I'll show you how to use that thing properly later, but for now," He hands me another hot mug, "Go shut Carl up with some'a this."

I carry both mugs back to main camp and find Rick and Carl sitting together at the picnic table, having what looks like the serious conversation me and Dad just got done having. When they notice me, Rick finishes off what he was saying and scoots over so I can sit next to him.

"Dad cooked the hare." I tell him, passing it across the table. He takes it with an owlish look. "Might still be hot."

"I don't think you've ever eaten hare before, have you, buddy?"

"No. Had skunk, though." He pops a piece in his mouth. "Mm. That's pretty good."

"Now you got a taste of what you wanted, I expect you to reel it in a bit. Protection's important, but not if it ends up killing you."

"Rick, My Dad said I can come shooting with you and Carl, if that's okay."

"'Course, honey. I think I'm gonna ask some of the others if they wanna come, too. Start today, if you want."

Me and Carl share an excited glance. "Yes, please."

"Alright, then. Finish up that food and we'll see about leavin' soon."

Author's Note.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, everyone 💙

Some more intense things coming up in the next one.

[nahalism]

Hiiii! I wanted to ask you about something for a long time. Do you think true healing comes from our own hands? I know you have some good knowledge on trauma so i am more confident asking you this question. Sometimes i believe we are our own biggest healer, most knowledgeable doctor because we are INSIDE us, we know everything (or mostly everything lol) about ourselves so technically we should be most equipped to help ourselves but then i wonder if we can be fully objective with ourselves or objective enough to untangle all that needs help, tending, being looked at and an external person will never truly hear, see what we and only we can. Or maybe we need another to guide us because there is only so much we can do alone and maybe we ARE actually not able to see some parts that are either hidden or blurted maybe some things are beyond when we are…hurt inside bad enough. What are your thoughts and feelings about this, dear? Now asking “what do you think” made me realize that the way i see you i think you’re pretty much always speaking from a place that had “think” and “feel” intertwined. It’s what i am getting whenever i am met with your energy here.

I hope you feel fabulous today🤍

hey angelll <3. ill start by saying, i feel like no man is an island but we must all learn to become one to truly mature and be of service. we are all dependent on things and people external to ourselves, but the true mark of maturation is learning to carry ones own load. not out of scorn, greed or a need for separation due to individuation, but in order to be one who can provide for others, whether that be refuge or resource. in giving we help others stand, yet without the self determination to take your own steps, that learning is in vain. so the answer is both. we need others but ultimately we must do the work ourselves.

that metaphor explains my feelings on symbiosis at large but to answer u directly, i feel the boundary between what demarcates self and other is very nebulous. as much as i believe we have all the tools within us to learn, understand, and transmute what we are into what we want to be, i also believe that our perception of the world external to us is a huge indicator of whats going on internally. as such the people we meet and our interactions with those beings/spaces we encounter them in, are often mirrors that reflect ourselves back to us, or!! are huge indicators of what we can still learn or ways that we need to develop and grow. whether that individual shows us everything we are, or everything we are not, they are still teaching us and deepening our capacity for self awareness (& the key to growing is to first be aware). i do also believe that all living things are one in essence, & as such theres no real difference between me and other, but since thats down to personal belief ill leave that there. what i will say is 'only a fool knows everything' and so if ever you catch yourself feeling or thinking someone has nothing to teach you, thats usually where the lesson is beginning. — sometimes others see our blindspots and can help us get to where we want to go faster than we can alone. but that isnt always the case because not everyone has the level of discernment and foresight to take you to the spaces you see for yourself. the best thing ive found is to listen to everything, & then apply what resonates.

re: the link between thinking & feeling, allll emotions have their root in a thought. if you think something, consciously or subconsciously, the energy of that emotion then translates beyond those neurological pathways into the physical body where we felt them somatically or as emotions. however theres a difference between emotion, the minds intelligence and the hearts intelligence. the heart knows only truth. i try to lead with my heart, but i know there are many times (mainly where fear or hopelessness is present) that im falling short. all i can hope to do in those instances is hold myself and try again lol.

theres so much love in this & trust for me which is heart warming fr. sending u love. hope this helped <3333333

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Another Chortle headline roundup, and this one is... look, maybe the arts have had a good go, and don't need to happen anymore. Maybe we can all take a step back and ask ourselves how many bits of written or spoken word the world actually needs. (This does not apply to the new Garth Marenghi book, Matthew Holness should feel free to do his thing into eternity, if he likes).

I did enjoy this, further down the page, though:

Because it says:

American talk-show hosts including John Oliver and Stephen Colbert have launched a podcast to support Hollywood’s striking writers. The broadcast rivals, who have been off air for four months, joined forces for the Spotify series to raise money for their crew. Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel and Seth Meyers are also involved in the project, named  Strike Force Five.  

So, is that a correct estimation they've made of British audiences, assuming they've definitely heard of John Oliver and Stephen Colbert, but the other three can be afterthoughts that you may or may not have heard of? Congratulations, John! You're finally famous in Britain! If you'd only you'd managed that 15 years ago, maybe you wouldn't have had to leave.

I haven't listened to any of this podcast yet. I have downloaded both episodes so far, with the thought that maybe I'll skim them at some point. I have to balance my desire to hear John Oliver talk with my lack of desire to hear those other four guys talk. Not that I hate any of them or anything, I'm just not at all interested in them and I don't really want to listen to a whole hour of four guys I don't care about and John Oliver. (with Colbert as a bit of an exception, I did love The Colbert Report as a teenager and watched it every night for years, but I haven't followed or wanted to follow anything he's done since). I have even less of a need to listen to the episodes because of the great recaps @lastweeksshirttonight has been doing. Those recaps are all I really want from this podcast - a summary of what happened in general, with a significant focus on John Oliver's contributions. So I probably don't have to listen to any of them myself now, I can just read that.

I have to say, looking at those five names in a row - I know they're all self-aware about this, and pointing it out is nothing new, and people talk about it all the time, but still, putting them all together as Strike Force Five really drives home how much late night TV in America is run by five straight white men, two of whom look like the same person and also have the same name. They couldn't have invited, like, Trevor Noah or Samantha Bee? Yes I realize both of them stopped doing the late-night job in 2022 and therefore don't have shows that are currently on strike, but still, recent enough, and going with a bit of tokenism might have been slightly better than just having the five as they are in this case. (I also realize that a whole lot of my favourite comedy things involve groups of straight white men, but in my defense, those are mostly from the 00s, and we're theoretically supposed to have more diversity in 2023, right?)

Also, it's been a while now but I don't think I've mentioned in a post yet that the brief, beautiful, never-actually-really-realistic-but-it-looked-slightly-possible-for-a-moment-there dream of John Oliver on Taskmaster is dead. He's announced new shows that conflict with the recording dates. He said he was doing those shows to make more money to keep paying his writers while they strike, which of course is the main reason for his whole stand-up tour, and is also the stated reason for this podcast. Which I guess is a good thing for me to remember, when I was making my post about how he's doing stand-up even though he doesn't need the money because he likes having work to do so maybe he'll do Taskmaster for the same reason. I suppose I could have taken a slightly broader view and remembered things like the large numbers of show staff who are not John Oliver rich and who need support, and doing stand-up in the US will do a lot more to solve that problem than flying to England to do Taskmaster, so, okay, fine, I guess John Oliver's making reasonable choices here. I guess if I try to be less myopic, I can remember that people's livelihoods are more important than having John Oliver on Taskmaster.

Anyway. The point is, get it together Chrotle.

God, does the world ever not fucking need any of those things.

[thethirdgenesisbooks]

5 Ways to Keep Writer’s Momentum Going

In our last blog, “How to Put Words in Your Book: 5 Tips to Actually Start Writing”, we discussed a common problem with writers and aspiring authors: the difficulty of actually getting words onto the page. All the methods mentioned in that blog are certainly helpful, but there’s another problem that writers often run into, and that’s losing momentum.

Stories operate on momentum. One event leads to another, which leads to another, and builds to a climax, followed by a resolution. Writing stories operates the same way. For the writer to keep interest in the story, the writer needs to keep up some momentum in its telling. Too often, writers will start off a story which has them excited, only to later run out of ideas or lose interest. Here are some ways to avoid that sort of burnout and keep the momentum going.

1 - Make Playlists:

In the previous blog I mentioned listening to music as a means to gain inspiration. While this is helpful, it can be more helpful if it’s music that you’re returning to repeatedly. Make playlists on Youtube, Spotify, or even on a burned CD, if you’re old-fashioned. There should be lists of songs for specific characters, specific kinds of scenes, and for specific settings. Going back to those songs can then bring you back into the mindset you were in when you wrote the previous scenes, and thus help you to come up with ideas for what comes next.

2 - Set a Minimum Word Count Average Per Day:

This one is not as easy as the first suggestion. It requires a great deal of self-discipline. What we need to understand is that Stephen King, one of the most successful authors of the last one-hundred years, writes an average of 2,000 words a day. While this may seem unattainable to some writers, please note that Ernest Hemingway wrote an average of 500 words a day. Sometimes when I’m having trouble with a novel, I’ll make that my minimum average word count. Granted, there are some days where we cannot write because life gets in the way, and that’s understandable, but on those days that we can write, we need to set minimums for ourselves. If 500 is too much for you right now, I would suggest making it at least 100, and seeing how you can build up to it. Alternatively, you can also set aside a specific amount of time each day to sit down and write.

3 - Reward Yourself for Writing:

Whether writing your book is your job or your hobby, there’s no denying that it’s work. It’s work to write a book. You must think hard about what happens next in the story, what words to use, and what dialogue makes sense for the characters. Then there’s all the research you need to do, often on the fly, to make it feel realistic. It’s important to reward yourself for a job well done. That reward may take any number of different forms. Maybe the reward will be food, like a sandwich or some ice cream. Maybe it will be playing a video game, watching a movie, or reading a book. Maybe it’s just spending time with loved ones for a while afterwards. The point is, create a reward for yourself, and keep in mind that you are working toward that.

4 - Outline Your Plot:

This one works best when you do it from the beginning. When you start your project, it’s good to map out what you want to happen through the course of the story. That way, you’re never left thinking, “What will happen next?” Now, this outline can be as specific or vague as it needs to be. I understand some writers are “gardeners,” who just sort of let the story take on a life of its own as they go, and other writers are “architects,” who have to plan out every little detail ahead of time. That’s fine. The former category benefits from vague plot outlines while the latter benefits from more specific ones. The point is to have a plan, and to know what steps you are trying to reach. The best news is you don’t need to come up with the structure of your outline wholesale. You can use the Hero’s Journey as a basic guide. The Maiden’s Method is also helpful in that regard.

5 - When Stuck, Talk to a Friend:

Most writers have artistic or creative friends of some sort. If you don’t have any friends like that, I recommend finding some friends who are fellow storytellers. Iron sharpens iron. When you get to a place where you’re not sure what the very next step in a story is, talk to your friends about it. Bear in mind that the more this friend knows about your story the better, but they don’t necessarily need to be skilled in your particular genre. If you’re writing a fantasy novel, sometimes it helps to get the perspective of someone who writes murder mysteries or romance novels, just to get an outsider’s perspective. This can help the ideas feel fresh and new, as all too often writers feel like they’re just repeating what everyone else has done.

These are just a few things that can keep the creative juices flowing. All of them have certainly worked for me, and you can check out just how many novels I’ve written via this link.

Good luck, and happy writing!

[buttercuparry]

Listen...when you are in a fandom, no matter if you are allies with other cliques because your and their fave share a common storyline/theme, it is best sometimes to take a step back from the common consensus and then examine it yourself.

I think in fandom what happens is that we get influenced somewhat by what the majority says. And sometimes we feel betrayed because our mutual or the ones we are fandom friends with do not always have the same opinion as us...I have felt it before as well. So maybe just maybe while we are in these friendships, we should also like set our own viewpoints on what the text says.

Also I think sometimes we should also take a step back to see what we ourselves are doing. Sometimes it's best to just leave things be, to read the room or stir up shit. Hell I have so many things to say about how Arya had been treated but I don't. The bygones are bygones. I hope we can come back from this.

[swampstew]

What's the Magic Word?

Chapter 31: Rowena the Witch

“…Keep this on the downlow for now. I don’t want this to rattle her,” Kid ordered the crew standing in the galley. Kid was holding a newspaper that contained a concert announcement.

For Soul King.

“Spread the word. Anyone lets their lips flap will get them nailed shut.”

The crew nodded and dispersed to discretely share the latest development. Killer, as always, the only one to remain.

“You’re not going to be able to keep this from her long.”

“I know. Just, not right now. She’s got enough on her mind.”

Killer crossed his arms and tilted his head, “Don’t infantilize her. The sooner she hears about it, the sooner she can deal with her feelings about it. Especially at…this point,” he drifted off.

Back home on their spring island, the Kid Pirates had all but secluded themselves from the world for months to recover. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“I think it’s great that she’s started hitting the books again, you’re getting her motivated. Let’s give her something to look forward to.”

“Her birthday is coming up.”

Killer clapped his hands, “Perfect. Rowena needs a balance of work and play, study and practice and she’ll be back to her old self in no time.”

Kid glared at the blonde, “She IS her old self,” a brusque reply followed with his leave.

“You know that’s not what I meant…”

Throwing the newspaper behind him, Kid slammed the door shut and climbed down to the main deck. Taking measured breaths with each step towards the helm, he made deliberate efforts to lessen the sound of his foot fall so as not to alert anyone of his approach.

He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop and he knew that Rowena and the crew wouldn’t keep anything from him, but at the same time Kid couldn’t help but listen in sometimes just to catch the vibe of the room he was going to enter. A recent and on-going tic he developed.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he hoped to gain from it. Maybe to ascertain Rowena’s mood before coming in and potentially making it worse in any manner.

Maybe he just wanted to get a hint of what he should expect just so he could be the one to make it better.

Love will fuck you up like that, he mused.

Knowing the ship better than the back of his hand, Kid avoided the spots on the floor that squeaked or cracked under his step. Creeping around and squeezing in the space between the jawbone of the dinosaur skull and the helm room’s outer wall, Kid could pick up the end of a conversation.

“—There’s so much I don’t know about our history, why our people did things a certain way that ended up being self-sabotaging. None of that really matters now. It’s over. The Coven died a long time ago and maybe it should stay dead.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that is all,” Heat responded. “Sounds like you’re giving up on your dream…”

“…”

Kid’s heart clenched. This is what he’d been afraid of.

“No…” Rowena said pensively. “I’m going to change it. Tweak it a little bit. First, I need to know the truth of everything, and I don’t think I’ll be getting that in the tomes we saved. If I can understand what happened, how things got to the point of our annihilation, maybe, maybe I can do it right, make it something different for the next generation.”

“…Are you—?”

Kid was going to shit a block of steel.

A light laugh, “No I’m not pregnant.”

Kid was still going to shit himself.

“Despite what happened with Sabina, in a really, really, really roundabout way, I’m grateful I learned what I did. It’s starting to connect some missing things I’ve never really given much thought too before. And who knows, if Sabina was taken that could mean somewhere in the world there are more Witches. I don’t want to bring anyone into the fold until I believe the new Coven can be a place that’s not only nurturing and educational, but also defensive and empowering. If we can’t protect ourselves and rise above the hatred of the past and other discrimination, than what’s the point.”

Heat didn’t say anything right away, taking a beat to absorb her statement, “You sound like you’re gonna be a great leader.”

“Heh, thanks.”

“I am sorry that you lost a sister.”

“Don’t be. I gained a brother.”

Kid could feel his heart regulating, the ice on his skin melting, the prick on his neck – gone.

“Ah so you’re not going to kill me for being a Witch then?”

“Fuck no!!! I wouldn’t risk my relationship with Kid like that, nor disrespect your mother’s sacrifice. Also, you’re probably one of my first friends outside of my crew. You’re a Witch through and through pal, and you’re stuck with me.”

“Aww.”

Kid decided to retreat and come back in five minutes, after he composed himself and fixed his tear smudged eye makeup.

The conversation had turned strategic when the redhead returned, this time properly through the helms room and making himself known. Heat and Rowena were so fixed on their conversation that they both only briefly looked at him before returning to their discussion. Kid blinked owlishly.

“—Truthfully, I’ve been afraid to read my mother’s book and I could use your help with that. Sorta like skim it for me so there’s nothing…bad that I’ll find, ya know?” she cringed a little when she said it.

Heat nodded solemnly, “Of course. If I do find anything, I’ll let Master Kid read it to decide what to do with it.”

“What are we talking about?” Kid interjected.

Rowena reached her hand out to him and he was on his knees.

“I’ve been thinking, I need to do some research into some lores that I heard as a child. To better understand how my people diminished over time, to better understand how far I can go if I make better choices.”

“What do you need to do, Ro’?”

“I need to find a way to…talk to them, communicate or something.”

“Like…talk to the dead?”

“Yeah, sorta. A séance wouldn’t be appropriate because I need to find specific people, and other methods of summoning could have unintended consequences.”

“Of course,” Kid nodded before looking at Heat, “Go grab all her books from our room.”

He waited until the ghoulish man had retreated inside the ship, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“…When you died…where did you go?”

Rowena’s eyes dimmed, she tried to look away but Kid firmly yet tenderly held her face so she couldn’t hide from him.

“I don’t think I went anywhere. There wasn’t anything. A void of nothingness. It felt so lonely. I’m not sure if it’s a type of limbo realm since I have the power I do, where I just stay put until I come back. It’s not a place I’m keen on revisiting.”

“Whatever you plan on doing, don’t exclude me. I want to help. And spare me any ‘it ain’t your problem’ bullshit ok? Your problems are my problems.”

“I won’t,” she promised. They sat on the floor watching the sea loll under the ship. Despite having finished their fortress, most of the crew opted to continue living on the ship. Old habits die hard.

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow that made the air feel warmer as they rested in the shade of the skull. Rowena sat snug in between Kid’s legs, back to his chest while his fingers played with her hair.

Hardly 30 minutes had gone by when Heat returned. He found the couple fast asleep on the floor, several tiny metal moths were perched around them and the railing. He quietly crept back to the helms room, took a cam snail off a shelf, and snapped a photo of the cute scene.

The sound of the snail woke them up.

Kid grunted and scowled at Heat as he sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“I want a copy of that,” Rowena stifled a yawn as she stretched. Heat started bringing in stacks of her books but the Witch’s attention was drawn to the rolled up paper in his side pocket.

“Ooh is that the paper? Can I read it?”

She plucked the roll from his pants as he was walking, stifling another yawn as she unrolled it, not noticing Kid’s alarmed face.

“Anything exciting?” Killer’s voice made Kid jump to sit. “Kid rushed through lunch so quickly I didn’t get a chance to ask him his opinion on the latest developments.”

Kid glared death upon the blonde.

A certain announcement sheet fell from between the pages, Rowena briefly glanced at it as she absentmindedly plucked it from midair. Her head quickly snapped back to the page. Rowena’s eyes scanned the announcement, her face didn’t betray any emotions.

“Huh…That was unexpected. Good for Brook I guess.”

Kid watched with bated breath, “Soooo you’re just ok with him becoming a rock star and fucking off?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess he wasn’t so loyal to Straw Hat in the end!”

That sparked an annoyed reaction from Rowena, “Don’t be stupid. I don’t know what led Brook down this path but look at the venue dates. The last one is in Sabaody, in seven months. That’s around the time we’re supposed to be back there.”

Killer let out a strangled laugh, “You didn’t look at the locations? Fa fa fa! Always straight to the worst assumptions, Kid.”

“SHUT UP!” Kid’s face and neck flushed deep red. “I was JUST trying to spare her feelings!”

“While I appreciate that, I prefer to be kept in the loop. We’re all doing whatever it takes to get back there, and while the rest of the crew have been entirely underground, we’ve not exactly been as covert. I’m sure the news reaches them wherever they may be. I only hope they don’t have their doubts about my return,” Rowena cast a sad look.

“No no no, not at all!” Kid backpedaled, “Like you said, they probably think you’re doing what it takes to survive too. You just happened to bag a conqueror for a husband along the way!” he smiled proudly.

That broke Rowena from the sudden melancholy, “Yeah you’re right. We’re a more optimistic bunch any ways,” she said with a relaxed laugh. “Alright, time to get serious.”

~ Several months ago, across the world in the Kamabakka Kingdom ~

Sanji’s exasperated face slunk around the wooded area, cautious to any of the inhabitants’ movements as he desperately evaded them. Over a year in his hell since being separated from his crew, he grit his teeth bitterly as he lit a severely bent cigarette.

He was only able to take a single inhale before his eyes widened like inflating balloons. The lit stick fell from his lips as his mouth dropped into a disturbed gasp, his hands grappling at his chest while he stumbled into a clearing, making awful noises as if he was dry heaving.

“Sss-s-so-some-something…”

Sanji whipped his head around as if trying to pin a location.

“Something HORRIBLE has happened to my BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!” his scream echoed in the air, startling birds from the trees as they cawed loudly and took flight.

𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧

4 days before Rowena’s birthday

Heat, Killer, Wire, and Rowena poured through scrolls, books, texts, folklore stories, questioned Sétanta, and just when Kid thought he would explode from being neglected for so long—

His workshop door was thrown open and a frazzled quartet burst through, all fighting to speak first.

“The horn! Where’s the horn Kid!?”

“We gotta do a whole ass summoning thing, it’s gonna be sick!”

“Master Kid we’re going to need to pick up additional supplies for some of the more advanced stuff if this doesn’t pan out.”

Killer shouted loudly over them, “NO ONE’S DOING ANYTHING UNTIL WE TALK IT OVER AND PREPARE!!!”

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” asked a disconcerted Kid.

“I had it wrong,” Rowena pushed past the others to demand Kid’s attention. “The horn isn’t used to only summon a dragon and learn the power of fire, its for any living dragon! Whatever you get is what you get! If your character is tested and if found to be worthy of their time, they’ll pass on their sacred knowledge and that includes other elements, domains, and REALMS!!!!”

“Any dragon? How many fuckin dragons are there?”

“I don’t know!”

Kid looked at them in bewilderment, “You’re fuckin talkin about summoning a whole ass dragon? Here?”

Rowena and Wire nodded in excitement, Heat less so, and Killer exuding his trademark aura of, ‘this is a terrible idea don’t do it.’

“Ok let’s summon a dragon!”

2 Days Before Rowena’s Birthday

The Kid Pirates and Rowena congregated to the far side of the island where the land was mostly flat and met the sea. The surrounding area was reinforced with steel, whether it was needed to shield or used to attack was yet to be determined.  

From the tree line, Kid could see Rowena’s jungle cat companion that he’d only briefly glimpsed before. The creature never approached him nor let itself be seen by him. Rowena didn’t have answers for the behavior and Kid chose to ignore it out of spite. Seeing it in full display now as it walked back and forth in an almost agitated state, he was mesmerized by its coat. What looked like sleek, black fur – if the sun hit it just right, a spot like pattern could be see but only vaguely from his location.

Kid stood beside Rowena as she was going over the process once more – not that she hadn’t already gone over it a hundred times before. As she started to veer off a tangent, Kid tugged the sleeve of her cardigan.

“Stop stalling.”

She threw him a pout, “I’m nervous!”

“Get over it – it’s now or never.”

Rowena let out an exasperated huff, “Great pep talk, Captain. Super motivated now.”

“Ro’!”

With a large gulp and noticeable apprehension on her face, she nodded at Wire signaling him to blow the horn. The resonance was like a calling from the Old Gods themselves. It sounded as if Heaven was being called upon to open its gate. The kind of sound one would hear at the end of a victorious battle, or the calls of war. The loud blast echoed in the valley, the wind shifted and Kid suddenly felt a sense of…dread.

He was no stranger to breaking laws and the like, but the way the air suddenly felt, this unknown pressure or presence seemingly vacuumed the air as Kid felt lightheaded. Like maybe they pushed their luck a little too far.

The ground began quaking, the sea thrashing, trees swinging violently, even Kid’s steel reinforcements fell from their places as the land seemed to come alive. Or at least, something inside it was alive. The jungle cat had disappeared and Kid thought it had probably made the correct and obvious choice in this entire situation.

“KID LOOK!” Killer shouted, pointing to the large, rocky mountain that stood proudly behind their fortress.

The stones and rocks rumbled under the surface as if a giant worm was tunneling through the mountain.

When the face of the mountain broke open, scaly talons grappled the edges open before the creature rumbling inside heaved its body and took flight. The gaping faces of the pirates was not unnoticed as the creature flew overhead in a spiral taking in its surroundings, shifting to aim right at them.

It was the ugliest, stunning beast Kid had ever seen to date. Though it had the forelimbs and wings of a dragon, the beast itself seemed stitched up like a monster made of several other monsters. The elongated body and hind legs had a distinct spotted-like pattern almost like Rowena’s jungle cat – if it sported a tawny colored base coat, and its lower half and tail had a different pattern and texture all together – it reminded Kid of a snake. The face though, so bizarre and terrifying.

The creature had an elongated snout like a goat, short tusks sprouting from its head, and its eyes, its fucking eyes. Double rimmed and tinted red like blood. Like something Kid felt he’d seen in his nightmares before. It made him stiff as a corpse when those pupils locked with his own.

With an odd cry, the dragon dropped to the land meters from where the pirates stood. At first it ignored the crew, taking in deep breaths of ocean air, letting its wings spread under the sun’s glow.

Haikei broke the tense silence, “Psst Rowena, should we—”

All eyes snapped to the dragon who had directed its attention back at them. The double rimmed pupils had turned into double rimmed vertical slits. The fur on its body raised, its tail end flicking side to side, it lowered its head as it let out a low growl, making its way to the pirates.

“FUCKING DUMBASS!” Heat shouted.

“Captain what do we do?” the others turned to Kid.

“All of you shut the fuck up and get behind me,” Kid gathered scrap for his arms.

The dragon’s tongue slicked past its lips before pulling them back in what looked like a demonic sneer.

Rowena hadn’t flinched once, seemingly hypnotized by the creature. From the second she made eye contact with the dragon, it was like she was rooted to the spot in mind, body, and spirit.

“Rowena…” Kid quietly called out to her, “Honey, you too, please get away from the dragon.”

It was no good, she couldn’t hear him.

The dragon slithered until it was mere feet from her. It crouched its lower body down, as if preparing to lunge.

Kid was stunned when it instead stretched its body, dagger-like nails barely digging into the soil inches from the Witch as it opened its mouth. Petrified her head was to be devoured, Kid felt his knees nearly give way when the dragon only yawned. It settled its massive form on the ground, forearms crossed in front of its chest, eyes locked with the Witch as if no one else existed.

“RO!” Kid hissed out.

Both dragon and Witch looked at Kid at the same time.

“What the fuck do I do?!” the redhead panic-whispered to Killer.

“I told you this was a bad idea!” Killer hissed back.

Rowena turned her body to look at the crew directly. The dragon shifted its body to the side so it could see everyone in it’s field of vision. With the heaviest, most dramatic pause the Kid Pirates had ever endured, Rowena tipped forward at the hip with a blank stare in her eye and brought her finger to her lips.

“Shhh.”

A cold sweat had broken out between all the pirates as they watched, some feeling sick with anticipation. Kid’s own stomach experienced a whirlpool of anxiety.

With steady, fluid movements, Rowena turned to face the dragon. She started to dance. The same dance Kid had been graced with the day she had taken the cast off her mended arm. Still wary of the dragon’s actions, Kid couldn’t help but be enraptured by the Witch. Moving with unbreakable focus yet not rigid in her movements. Holding so much tension in her heart yet moving as if it was a careless summer day.

Usually Rowena only did the dance once, then in reversed order. However, she kept dancing even as a light rain drizzled over the island. No dark clouds in the sky, just the presence of the majestic beast. The dragon rose from its position and charged towards the Witch.

Running in a circle around the Witch, its body so long that the end of its tail was dangling in front of its face as it ran its circuit. Before long, the beast with surprisingly articulate and graceful movements began a dance of its own. Not quite mimicking the Witch, doing perhaps its own interpretation, it kept up with Rowena as she danced and danced and danced until she stopped. The rain stopped too.

The final pose of her dance always had her standing on one leg with her arms braced open as if to hug an invisible force in front of her. The dragon did the same, balancing on the tip of its tail while its wings flapped gently in the air to keep itself upright. Just as sudden as the stop was, so was the dragon’s drop to the ground.

Kid watched in despair as the snake-like appendage of it’s body started to wrap around Rowena, seemingly dragging her away from him.

“WAIT!” he cried out, ready to launch all the spears in his crafted harpoon gun to catch himself a big slippery son-of-a-bitch monster.

The dragon stopped, looking back at Kid with a menacing growl. The rims that encircled its pupils began to pulse lightly.

“Don’t,” Rowena’s voice came out steady and authoritative.

The dragon looked at her and started to growl at her as well.

“Let him come.”

The dragon made a sharp, bark-like shout at her, repeating it over and over. Tantrum-like if a creature such as that could have humanized reactions.

“Please. I need him. I trust him.”

The coils dropped the Witch who was now moving freely, rushing towards Kid and the freaked out crew.

“I passed the judgement. He said he needs to take me on a trip to the spiritual realm so I can get my answers, and there he will teach me all he knows about the power that dwells beneath the ground, of the earth itself. Time works a little differently down there. What will be hours here, it will be like days or weeks have gone by there. I don’t think I can go that long without you, Kid.”

Killer reacted first, “ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A FUCKING HEART ATTACK?!”

Rowena looked at him apologetically, “Sorry for the silent treatment. The amaru kind of merged with my mind so we could communicate.”

“Can it not speak?” Heat asked, watching the creature as it ducked its head into the sea.

“Not in a language any of us know. Its why it does the merger, to have direct and immediate contact but only with someone that passes their assessment. Those that cannot connect with a dragon will be eaten, usually. Or that’s what it told me, at least.”

“And the dance was what, fucking bonding?” Killer’s tone still held fury.

“Actually yes. If we connected mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, I would be eligible to learn his wisdom and pass it down. This dragon here is connected with the Underworld which would make it easier on me to commune with the dead in a way that wouldn’t result with me getting stuck in hell and my body possibly disintegrating into thin air.”

“You. Failed. To. Mention. This. Previously!” Killer spat out each word.

“I’m learning on the go here, Kill. Have I answered all your questions? The amaru wants to get a move on.”

“Can it hold us both?” Kid asked uneasily as he eyed the flicking tail. “I can make the scrap into a seat or some shit…”

The dragon let out a shriek three times.

“Yeah-no he doesn’t want that. We can sit on its back or get held by the tail. The tail felt secure if I’m being honest. Like a giant, warm hug.”

“Kid ple—” Killer was cut off.

“Over my dead body she’s going to the fucking UNDERWORLD by HERSELF. I’m going, end of story!”

Grabbing Rowena’s hand, Kid spared Killer a final nod before marching up to the amaru who was sitting by the water. The creature whipped its head and snarled at Kid, to which he pulled his lip back and returned a snarl of his own.

After a minute, the dragon huffed and broke eye contact, as if suddenly disinterested in the couple. With a gentle tug, Rowena pulled Kid to the creature’s hindleg and prompted him to climb.

Tenderly stepping on the creature’s back, the fur was longer and softer than Kid had anticipated. He admired the colors of its wings as the sun shining on the feathers revealed different hues in the deep colors depending on the angle the light hit them.

Kid followed Rowena’s actions as she sat down with legs straddled over the dragon’s long neck.

“Grab the fur and hold on tightly. He’s going to be giving a crash course lesson in my mind so it’ll be a mostly silent ride. I’ll keep a part of my consciousness awake so if you need me, I’ll still be with you. Anything to get off your chest before we fly?”

“If we fall off and die, I’m going to kill you. Then Killer will wait for you to come back and then kill you again.”

The dragon leapt into the air, wings beating so strongly to rocket them higher in the air. Kid’s eyes were watering so much he lowered his welding goggles to cover them. Rowena’s hair twisted itself into two sections, the lower half that braided itself and the top section that wrapped around her already shut eyes.

Kid’s hands went numb immediately from how hard he was gripping the dragon’s fur, not chancing to relax his grip and doom himself. His body stuck to Rowena’s as the dragon’s flight twisted almost aimlessly before it dove straight down like a loose canon ball dropping right to the ground.

Kid could see the crew scattering towards the tree line as the dragon touched down. Instead of jolting or crashing, Kid was amazed when the creature seemed to open the earth on command with its clawed hands. The darkness swallowed them whole and soon the hole the dragon created to open their route to the Underworld closed itself with rocks and dirt.

The Night of Rowena’s Birthday

Killer had walked back and forth on the island since Kid and Rowena left, leaving a worn track from one end to the other from his pacing. Counting down the minutes in his mind, partly muttering them out loud like a mad man as he took each measured step.

48 hours had gone by.

Forty-motherfucking-eight.

To say he was stressed was an understatement.

Killer was expecting the skies to crack open, the sea to divide in halves, the King of Hell himself even to deliver his best friend back to him in some over-the-top dramatic show.

“Oi Killer! They’re back!” Wire hollered from a distance.

Killer ran.

Making it to where the crew had gathered, Killer could see a newly formed cave entrance on the inner face of the tallest mountain. Rowena and Kid were walking hand in hand but neither looked exactly thrilled. Killer’s heart staggered.

“What happened down there?” Killer asked softly.

Rowena and Kid glanced at each other wearily before Kid answered for them.

“It was…a really long trip. Can we just…get some rest? Still haven’t…digested it all.”

“You-you guys want to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

Killer was going to lose his mind.

“Its nothing we couldn’t handle, just…a lot, and I mean a fucking lot of history was dumped on us. A lot of things that were kept from Ro’,” Kid looked back at her, “I promise, we’re ok. She’ll share when she’s ready. What day is it?”

“Its…It’s the 10th.”

That seemed to rouse Kid up a little, “The 10—? Oh fuck ok. Ummm, Kill, set up for the party and we’ll join you when it starts.” Tugging Rowena along him, the two made their way to the ship.

“They went to the Underworld and now he wants a fucking party,” the blonde muttered to himself before directing his ire at the others. “You heard him, he wants a party. Move it people.”

When Rowena and Kid reappeared, the sun was setting and the cloudless sky was turning shades of burnt orange and pink. The two looked livelier than before and Killer felt like he could finally stop worrying. Reading Kid for him was like reading a book – it was Rowena he wasn’t always so sure of. Not that he expected anything bad, just still wasn’t used to what he’d get with her.

A bonfire was roaring, wild game was slowly roasting next it, and the tables were adorned with foods and drinks. Kid had been clear he wanted Rowena’s birthday to be memorable and fun. This was what Killer could come up with given the circumstances.

“Thank you, Killer, everyone, for putting this together. I didn’t expect it, I mean I kind of did given how Kid gets everything he wants but uh…I dunno sometimes I guess I still don’t expect people to do nice things for me. I’m sorry about our arrival, I was just shaken up. Still am. Kid reminded me though, that he’s here for me and so are all of you. I’ll describe our journey and what we saw but for tonight, I just want to have fun and celebrate with my friends.”

The pirates nodded in agreement, mostly in silence or by raising their glasses in the air.

“One of us!” Reck yelled out, breaking the tension like crystal shattering. The others began cheering and shouting with him.

“One! Of! Us! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!”

Killer brought Rowena and Kid drinks but Kid held both glasses, waiting for the crowd to quiet down so the Witch could continue.

“I just want to do something really quick. It uhh…feels a little bit funny, doing this in front of you all,” Rowena crept closer to the fire. “In the Coven we always sort of shared things. Events, feelings, mourning, joy; it was how we connected to each other beyond our gifts. To feel like a real family.”

Standing in front of the dancing flames, she suppressed a quavering lip, “Whenever we collectively grieved or felt melancholic, or just felt totally powerless, we sang. This song is meant to uplift and empower, to remember those of the past and preserve theirs and our own experiences to support the future. I, I think I need it now more than I ever have. The chorus is repetitive and easy to follow along, but don’t feel pressured to do so.”

No one said anything, shifting silently as they stood around her. Killer volunteered to hit a drum to get a beat going.

With deep, soulful breaths from her diaphragm, Rowena began to sing. Quietly at first but slowly building up as she found her strength.

I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice. My mother's child is a savage She looks for her omens in the colors of stones, In the faces of cats, in the falling of feathers In the dancing of fire and the curve of old bones.

I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice. My mother's child dances in the darkness And sings heathen songs by the light of the moon, And watches the stars and renames the planets And dreams she can reach them with a song and a broom. I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones.

I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice.

Now my mother's child curses too loud and too often My mother's child laughs too hard and too long, And howls at the moon and sleeps in ditches And clumsily raises her voice in this song. I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice. Now we all are brought forth out of darkness and water Brought into this world through blood and through pain, And deep in our bones, the old songs are wakening So sing them with voices of thunder and rain. We are our mother's savage daughters the ones who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. We are our mother's savage daughters we will not cut our hair, we will not lower our voice.

Little by little the crew picked up the chorus and sang softly along. It touched the Witch deeply.

We are our mother's savage daughters the ones who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. We are our mother's savage daughters we will not cut our hair, we will not lower our voice.

We are our mother's savage daughters the ones who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. We are our mother's savage daughters We will not cut our hair, we will not lower our voice.

By the last verse, Rowena’s voice was shaking, heavy with emotion. Kid had joined during the last chorus and the second she heard his voice, she cried out the last line tilting her head at the moon, tears of sorrow, joy, and love streaming down her face.

Read on AO3

[phoenixapprentice]

Writing is Work. Reading is Work as Well!

Everyone knows that writing takes a lot of work, particularly novel writing. When I think about writing, I think not only of the physical tolls of wittering at a desk for hours on end, but of the mental tolls: the doubt, the imposter syndrome, the writer's block, the ripping out of one's soul and pasting it to the prose. We as writers take relief in that after all our toil, we can recline and relax with someone else's words.

Or can we?

I am of the belief that reading is work as well as writing! Many readers today, it seems, expect authors to do all the work, catering to their every need; but this kind of world view can become detrimental to the reader. I can attest to this. For a time, I had no interest in reading anything—I couldn't find books that filled the myriad of expectations I had. The only good thing that came from this is that I wrote more so I could compensate for my disappointment in others. But even so, my writing withered from a lack of exposure to diversity.

I quickly learned my problem: the expectations I put on other authors did nothing to them and only robbed me of my joy. If I went into a story expecting one thing and got another, I would be filled with negative emotions: disappointment, irritation, and maybe a bit of condescension. I thought to myself, 'I could write something better than this!' But the problem was those negative feelings shuttered me from the true experiences of the book, experiences that—if I had not allowed my ego to get in the way—I would have enjoyed greatly. I might have appreciated the characters more, or the plot progression, or the message of the book, if I had slowed down and really tried to reach for what the author was saying. If I had considered why they had done something rather than writing it off as 'bad,' then I might not have lost interest in reading for so many years.

The way I see it, reading is a lot like having a conversation. It takes active listening and understanding. It's a relationship between author and reader, and a relationship requires effort on both sides. If the reader behaves as a house guest, expecting the author to cater to their every need, then they will be undoubtedly disappointed in areas; but if they treat the author as a friend, a relative, an acquaintance, then it becomes a symbiotic relationship where there may be struggles, but they are worked through. They are understood. A person who is chronically a guest without putting forth any effort into the relationship or their situation has a name—a moocher.

What does that mean for readers, then? Reading and writing are not merely crafts for entertainment. They are the vessels which carry information from one mind to another, which pass on experiences impossible and fantastic and allow us a temporary step out of our own shoes. In this age where instant gratification precedes hard work and diligence, reading and writing also find themselves victims of the convenience epidemic. We want something that will distract us. We want something that will entertain us. We want it now, now, now! But when it's given to us? We whine and complain.

Let me tell you this—there are better uses of time and energy than to hang upon how we think a book should have ended. There are better uses of headspace than to focus on a dislike of character, prose, or perhaps even an entire book. Of course, this is not to shut down genuine criticism—but so much criticism does not come from a place of genuineness. It comes from a place of bias, a place of taste, a place of expectations. It comes from a reader being a house guest and not a collaborator working to understand the author and the story.

It's tough to eliminate expectations. I'm not perfect at it. When I crack open a new book, whether I'm aware of it or not, there's always something invisible lurking in the back of my mind, waiting to spoil my enrichment. But when we as readers begin to remove ourselves from the expectation of what we think writing should be—when we step away from what is "current" or "popular" and think more deeply about the whys, the author's intentions, their hard work, their backgrounds, and their reasons for writing—then we shift into a more open mindset. We are more willing to listen to what the author is saying instead of what we think they should be saying. Because unless we've paid the author personally to write this story, they haven't written it for any of us. They've written it for themselves. A painter does not unpromptedly create a work of art found in the confines of another mind. If artists could do that, then they'd be telepaths, and they'd probably rule the world.

An author spends years on a book that may be read in only a half hour; as readers, it is our duty to honor that work. We must partake in their vision instead of mooching off of it. In doing so, the worlds of genre and literature become more than paltry boxes of entertainment—they become ships ready to chart the waters of human connection.

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

1/6/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Job 10-13

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill. Today is the 6th day of January, and I know I say it a lot, but it's the truth. It is my joy, my honor, and sheer pleasure to be reading the Bible for us together in community. I'm so glad that you you're here day six, and I just want you to stop and take notice that it's day six and you're here and you're in the Word and the Bible is coming alive to you and God is speaking to you through his Word. And a lot has happened so far and yet we're just getting started and it's very exciting. No announcements today. We're going to just jump right into the word. Today we're reading Job chapters 10 through 13. And this week we're reading the New Living translation Job chapter 10. 

Commentary:

I found today some really key things hidden in just a couple of lines. The first thing is at the very beginning of the reading Job ten, let me complain freely. My bitter soul must complain. And then that bitterness is unleashed and we hear it and it starts getting cringy. But haven't we done the same thing? Don't we long for safe places? And we so often just sit with it in our mind, in our own self. And then comes the shame. Like, why am I speaking that way to God? Why am I questioning God? But yet we find we have questions. So let me complain freely. Fair enough. Especially in tragedy, safe places are essential to just spit out the venom that we're holding inside that seems to be eating us at times. And do we have safe places? I think the greater question that we have to ask ourselves is, are we a safe place? We may not be able to have a safe place available to us. So in the meantime, can we be what is missing in our own lives for somebody else? And do we need to have the answers and a response back when someone is unleashing their English, exposing the bitterness that they've been holding inside? And then maybe we take that a step deeper. Why do we feel the need to have the answers? Are we uncomfortable with what we're hearing? Are we uncomfortable with someone being upset or angry at God? Can we just hear them? Can we just sit shiva with them? Can we just be presence for them? Can our greatest offering be a listening ear to someone without feeling the need to fix the problem? There is a time for wisdom to speak, but there's also a time for wisdom to know when not to speak. The next little hidden set of questions come when Zophar opens his mouth to Job. Shouldn't someone answer this torrent of words? Is a person proved innocent just by a lot of talking? Should I remain silent while you Babylon? When you mock God, shouldn't someone make you ashamed? Here's the thing they're valid questions as he continues on. Can you solve the mysteries of God? This can be so complicated because there's the juxtaposition of valid points. He's got valid questions here. But are they helpful? Are they helpful in someone's time of English and someone's need to be heard rather than to be talked back to, to be talked down to? I think as we hear this dialogue and we continue it will, one, validate our need sometimes to just be able to safely say what we hold inside and internally wrestle with. And then secondly, it exposes those things that we say with good intentions, with a hope to help and to learn that it might not be as helpful as we thought it was. Here's the last thought of the day for today. We can so easily think we know what we would do in somebody else's situation, even though we've never been in their situation. We can so easily dismiss and diminish the severity of someone's pain and experience because we have not experienced it until we experience it. And then we want the whole world to grieve with us. One of the great benefits of listening to someone in their pain and in their experience is preparation for our own lives. None of us are guaranteed to come out unscathed through pain or suffering in this life. And yet I see, especially as Christians, we will do everything we can to avoid it, to dismiss it, to pray it away. And what we need to understand is grief. And pain that is undelt with eventually turns to bitterness and anger and it will seep its way out of the tightest of nooks and crannies and usually it bleeds all over the people that we love the most. And again, the point from yesterday, sometimes we don't know what we need in our pain and in our suffering, but sometimes we need to process through it. We don't want or need the words of good, meaning people that can be our very best friends. We sometimes want God to come and explain himself. And I'm pretty sure we're going to see the same thing in this story with Job. And so we pause here today in this story as we will turn the page tomorrow and the dialogue will continue. And we're just really getting started here with Job and his three helpful friends. 

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for your word today, your transformational word that shows us some parts of us that we don't necessarily want to take a look at. And they're hard to look at because the voice of shame can be very loud for some of us. We don't know what to do with that. But we thank you that you, God, are safe. We can bring that shame to you. We can bring that exposition of what has been revealed and that part of us that we might not even like, but our own self, we can invite you into that. We do that just now. We ask you to come to soften the shame as we hand it over to you and as we make necessary changes, as maybe we have underestimated the power of silence, the power of just being present, the gift of showing up and just being present with someone who needs a safe place. And I pray God, that we, as representatives of you, to learn to be a safe place, to listen, slow, to speak, quick to hear and listen for the voice of wisdom before we move forward, thank you that you go with us. Pray this now. In the name of the Father Son, the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Announcements:

Daily Audio Bible. That's home base. Check it out. If you have not, take a look around. Download the app. Take a look around at the store. If you have not, there are some resources available there that are intended to enhance your journey through the Bible. There are journals. If you are just like me and you're like, no, I need that pencil to glide across the page. Typing on a little tiny notepad on my phone just does not cut it. I'm your people. We have journals, we have pencils available. Black wing pencils. They are good, real nice. Coffee, tea. Sign up for the subscription, have it freshly roasted and delivered to your front door. All of that is available at the store. If you would like to partner with us, we thank you so much for your partnership. We could not do this without you. If you're giving by mail, DAB PO Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee 37174. Or if you're utilizing that mobile app, hit the Give icon. It's up at the top right hand corner. Lastly, look for the Give icon on the website if you need prayer. If you'd like to pray for someone that's previously called in several different ways for you to do so 800-583-2164 or utilizing your app, hit the red circle button up at the top right hand corner. You have two minutes on the prayer line, hit Submit, turn the wheel to Chronological and it will get to the right place. That's it for me today. I'm Jill. We'll turn the page and continue the story of Job tomorrow. Until then, love one another.

Community Prayer Line:

Hey DABC. It is Refined by the Fire in Ohio and I wanted to reach out. Wish everybody a Happy New Year. Welcome everybody who is new this year, whether it is new to the Daily Audio Bible as a whole or just to chronological, and you may be either switched or double dabbing, or however many dabs you're doing, but welcome. I know when I first started it was something new and I wasn't sure, but I have just come to love all of you over at chronological. Obviously, Jill in China, both of you are so spectacular in sharing your wisdom and your insights and just how the Spirit is moving you. So I thank you for being the main voice and being brave enough to step out there to trip over all the words that I know none of us would be able to read those out loud. So you are so super brave and I appreciate that. Thank you all. So I just wanted to tell each of you welcome and also that I am always out here praying and lifting each one of you up as you call in, as well as celebrating together and mourning together through all of the events. And I know none of us know what this year is going to bring, but we're in this together and one day we will all celebrate in person together with Christ. Love you all. Happy New Year.

Father God, thank you so much for the Transcription team at the Daily Audio Bible and Daily Audio Bible Chronological. Specifically, I'm thinking of Janel and Angie as I'm posting this prayer request to the Chronological. Father God, thank you that they have a heart to serve. Thank you that they love you and that they're on fire for you and that they burn for you, Jesus. Lord God, as they go through the year, this year in transcribing the spoken word of Jill and China as they read through Chronological and they comment on the scripture and they close out with prayer and encouragement from people that call into that program, Father, bless them with strength and courage and endurance for the journey that lies ahead. It's hard work, Father God, but work that they've been called to, and I'm so thankful to have the opportunity and the blessing to get to know them and to do this work with them. So, community, if you would please lift Janel and lift Angie up in your prayers as they take and transcribe the spoken word from Jill in China each and every day and post it off to the Tumblr site that's associated with the transcriptions for the Daily Audio Bible Chronological. And if you didn't know that that was a resource, there are people that are finding great value in being able to go back and read what's been spoken on the program. I hope that you would find great value in that also and that you see there in the work that Angie and Janel are doing is life giving along with the tremendous work that Jill and China and the Hardin family does. Jill and China, thank you for your ministry. You're being prayed over every single day. We love you.

Hello, DABC family, this is The Burning Bush that will not be devoured for the glory of our God and our King. Yay. We made it through a year. That was my first year going through DABC, guys. I've been with DAB for a loose count now, I think probably 15 years, 14 ish, I can't remember now. But yeah, this is amazing. This is just phenomenal and I'm glad to be back and I'm actually going to try to do DAB and be a double DABer like some of you guys. Hopefully I can pay attention and focus and listen to the two at the same time. Anyway, I know this is a very casual call and I just wanted to extend a lot of love to all of you. And for those who are just joining us for the first time, welcome. You are in for a ride. The Word of God is amazing to be in every day. You know, that's why you're here. But the little icing on the cake is this community, this community that loves on you all year long. There will never be a time you will log on and somebody will not be awake somewhere in the world praying for you because this is international. And anyway, I love you guys. I look forward to hearing your voices. Bye.

Hi, everyone. It's Christie in Kentucky. Happy New Year, everyone, and welcome to all the new listeners to DABC. You are going to love this journey and find that we pray for each other earnestly and love one another very well. So welcome. I know that you're going to love this adventure in your life. It has been so wonderful in mine and my husband's. I wanted to pray today. Lord, we thank you for this most beautiful day that you've given to us, Father. And our sister Lisa has called in from Oklahoma and she's asking for a favor in her business this year. And Father, we are asking for that along with her. And we thank you in advance for the wonderful things that are going to happen in Lisa's life this year. Father, we pray for Tiffany, Lord Jesus, and praise the Lord. Thank you, Jesus, for baby Elijah being born on Christmas Eve. All Christmas Eve babies so special. Of course, all babies are special. That I have a special love because my grandmother was born on Christmas Eve and what an amazing moment of God. She was so excited to hear about what God is going to do in Elijah's life. We're praying for you to heal from this birth and that you and your husband will be guided by the Holy Spirit in each and every decision that you have to make. Family, I have a biopsy on Thursday. By the time you hear this, it will be over with, but I'm praying that you will pray that it will go well and that there will be nothing to be concerned with. Asking you to continue to pray for my beautiful husband who has been diagnosed with ALS and we have been walking through that for a year and trusting the Lord every step of the way. He is a miracle working God. Amen. All right, everyone, I love you. I pray each of you have a blessed day.

Hey, DABC family. This is Eliza in California. And Debbie, I heard your request for prayer this morning and my heart is crying out to the Lord for you. So I am just praying that you would feel God's love surround you each day, that you would know he has a great plan for your life and for the life of your baby, and that you would let him pull you out of your mental struggles right now. So I am just going to keep praying for you, Debbie, that the Lord shows you how lovable you are because he loves you and you are worthy of being loved.

[simplysmilingdrew]

You're in a big trouble!

BNHA tickle fic

Lee: Kaminari

Lers: Mina and Jirou

A/N: This fic was really hard to write. I wanted to write something important, about friendship, fears that everyone can experience in a way or another, and seeing the positive sides of ourselves, because a mistake we often make is to underestimate ourselves. Hope that you will like it. English is not my first language so, if you find some mistakes, please tell me and I will correct!!

“Hero too, I am a hero too! My heart is set and I won’t back down!”

The song had been echoing in Kaminari's ears for at least half an hour.

He was relaxing on the couch of the common room with headphones on, listening to that beautiful song.

It reminded him how much fun they had at the school festival; how much they had worked hard to make an unforgettable show; how beautiful Kyoka's voice was…

Yes, he had a crush on the Hearing Hero… but he had never dared to take a step forward in this... after all, his Quirk short circuits and bad grades did not help him with the self-esteem.

He didn't realize he was also humming, but he felt perfectly a touch on his stomach. Kaminari jumped up, his eyes widening: “Hey Mina! What are you doing?”

“Hehehe, I was right! Someone was singing our song.”

Kaminari sat cross-legged: “Was I singing? Didn't notice, sorry. "

Mina smiled: “You must really like it a lot, since you always listen to it. Or should I say… you like Jirou's voice? ”and she winked at him.

Kaminari blushed instantly: “Uuh? N-no no, what are you saying? I simply wanted to relax and this song helps me-”

“Because Jirou is the singer, maybe?” Mina insisted from behind the couch.

Kaminari’s face turned even more red and tried to cover it with his arms: “W-what are you saying? It's just that, uh… it's a special song for me, it reminds me about something we've done all together. Why do you say I like Jirou?”

Mina's black eyes lit up: “Ah-ha!! I said you liked her voice, not that you liked HER…”

Dammit. Kaminari turned purple, closed his face between his legs and wished only to sink completely into the couch and disappear among the cushions. Mina giggled and sat across from him: “Come on, Jemmingway! Just kidding. I didn't mean to embarrass you, but it's pretty obvious that you like Jirou. You’re not that good at hiding your feelings.”

Kaminari's tomato-colored face emerged from his knees: “What? What do you mean with obvious? Did she notice it? Who else knows? Oh my God, I'm screwed!!! "

“Woah there, Sparky! Calm down!! Don't freak out! We of the Squad have noticed it, I am sure of this because we were together! But for Jirou, I don't think so and trust me when I say that, if she knows, we didn't tell her anything. Cross my heart.”

Poor Kami tried to go back to the closest thing that we could call “a state of calm” and, still with his hands in his hair, asked again: “What do you mean with obvious?”

“Well, your eyes light up when you look at Jirou or you talk to her; when she laughs, you laugh with her; you listen to her song as many times as Bankugou screams 'die', so...”

Kaminari let out a chuckle: “Well... you see... you're not wrong... but, I...”

Mina pushed his hair out of his eyes: “Come on, shy one. If you want, you can tell me everything, buddy.” she said imitating his pose.

Kaminari rolled his eyes, made an embarrassed expression, scratched his head and smiled: “Actually, it's true… I do have a crush on Jirou. But I'm afraid to tell her... I'm only capable of making a fool of myselself, I always fail tests and I certainly don't have to remind you of my 'Wee'. And she is… so cute, smart, she has a beautiful voice and I love to see her smile. But... I don't think I'm a guy who she might be interested in…”

Mina sighed: “If we are talking about grades, remember that you have number 19 of the class in front of you. I also fail tests, but I’m not the grade that the teacher writes on the paper, and same goes for you. I am the most agile of the class and I have taught everyone how to dance for the Festival. Even to Iida, Midoriya and Aoyama with their ‘trunk like dancing style’. You're good at mid-range combat and your Quirk is great, both for simply charging batteries, or for saving lives as a defibrillator, if you think about it for a sec.” Mina said.

Kaminari's expression totally changed: “Trust me, if Jirou didn't really like you, she wouldn't even helped you with the guitar lessons. Also... do you want to know a secret?!” Mina whispered.

Kaminari put the ear closer. Mina covered the space between his ear and her lips with one hand: “Hehehe! Jirou sometimes stares at you and smiles. I've noticed this from the Festival!”

Kaminari felt his heart locked in his throat and his mouth dropped open: “What?! Are you serious? No I-I've never noticed!” his face turned again red as a tomato and he covered it with his hands.

She giggled and ruffled his hair: “That's a good thing. I mean, she totally likes you and maybe feeling something for you, but if you didn’t notice her eyes on you, my dear, we have to borrow a pair of glasses from Iida. You. Must. WAKE. UP. AND. ACT!!"

With each word, Mina poked Kaminari's tummy, making him laugh. Then she started to poke him in various spots, all over his torso and under his neck: “Did you understand? You have to move! Come on! Talk to her! Or at least give her a little present, like the choker you gave her after I-Iland. That is now fully integrated in her Hero costume, hehehe!”

Kaminari could not answer back in any way with Mina who kept her attack on every single weak spot: “Hahaha! Stop it Mina! I Gah-hahaha, I got it!”

“Hehehe! You're in a big trouble, Kaminari!” Mina yelled, and she threw herself at him and then tickled him on his hips and sides. Kaminari burst into laughter, throwing himself back onto the couch and arching his back.

“Nonono! Tickle naaahahahaha!!!”

When Mina went for the armpits, he shrieked and let out electric shocks that made his hair stand. Mina laughed with him, surprised by the reaction.

“Hahaha!!! Kaminari, what the hehahaha! What the hell did you do? Your hair!"

“Minahahaha! Plehehehease, dohohohon’t!” he pleaded, trembling.

“Hehehe! I'm sorry, but it's too funny!” and she began to move her fingers so delicately that it was like the touch of a ghost.

Kaminari instinctively closed himself like a hedgehog, and then stretched his legs in the air, kicking a little: "Hahaha! Oh gohohohosh! Minahahahaha!"

“Yes, that’s my name and I know you like light tickles and you're so cute when you giggle like that! Oh! Hey, I know! How about, you ask her for a date at the park? Buy a new pair of airpods for her birthday? Or a box of chocolates for Valentine's Day? Simple ideas that would be perfect!" she exclaimed, still gently tickling him.

“What-hahaha!? Ihihihi, I’m naaahahaha brahahahave enough tohoho ahahahask! I alwahahays froze and I wohohohould panic!" and he began to shake his head frantically from side to side.

Mina stopped instantly.

Kaminari, completely surprised, tried to catch his breath and raised his head to look at her. Mina was staring at him with a dull look.

Kaminari began to worry: “W-what's wrong? Why did you stop so suddenly?”

She pouted and pointed her finger at his nose: “Denki 'Chargebolt' Kaminari! Do you realize what you just said?”

After such a sentence, Kaminari's concern turned into terror: “You faced the USJ Villains. You helped rescue the I-Island hostages. You saved Bakugou and Kirishima from the Shiketsu student. You protected Midoriya and Bakugou from Nine's lightning attack. You played the guitar in front of the whole school and you are one of the few who survived after pulling a prank on Bakugou! Seriously… do you really think that you're not brave enough?”

Kaminari was stunned. Actually, she was right. He wasn't totally a coward, but...

“Mina… thank you for your words. I understand what you mean but... it's different and more complicated...”

Mina pressed her finger against his nose: “Don't you dare contradict me! You ARE brave! Maybe you don't feel ready to talk to Jirou yet, but underestimate yourself, talking only about your failures and defects is wrong! I mean it, never humiliate yourself like this again! Did you hear me?!”

Maybe Mina's reaction was too exaggerated, maybe she was taking the argument too seriously, but looking at Kaminari, she remembered that day... a couple of years ago, when Kirishima apologized for not being able to intervene when the giant Villain threatened her and the other classmates.

For a moment she saw their faces overlap... with the same incredulous expression...

Maybe... those were the words she hadn't been able to say that day ...

The girl took a deep breath and in a serious tone she said: “Now, in the view of the facts and this terrible declaration, I Mina 'Pinky' Ashido, also known as 'Raccoon eyes', I sentence you to the maximum sentence!" and she grabbed his knee as hard as she could: “A minute of tickling in your worst spot!”

Kaminari's eyes became two headlights and he grabbed her arms: “WHAT!? No, you can't do it!”

“Any objections or complaints will not be tolerated!” she said completely serious.

Kaminari started to shake, but also giggling: “M-Mina wait! I beg you! I take back what I said, I swear! I'll buy you all the packages of your favorite candies at the market and even a case of that soda you love! But please don't! I could die here!”

“What did you do so bad, Kami?"

Mina and Kaminari gasped at the sound of the familiar new voice coming onto the scene. Jirou's voice.

The girl had leaned on the back of the couch and she was watching the scene with curiosity: “So? May I know what's going on? Your screams Kaminari could be heard from outside the dorm.”

Kaminari and Mina met their eyes for a second: Mina narrowed her gaze and gave him a little smile; Kaminari was even more frightened.

“Dear Jirou, you came here just in time...”

Kaminari threw himself at her, fearing the worst, in a desperate attempt to protect the secret: “Nononono! Mina don't do it!”

In response, she gently scratched her fingers under his knee and he instantly fell backwards, letting out a laugh.

Jirou became even more incredulous: “What the hell...”

“Now I'll explain everything.” Mina said: “Our dear Pikachu...”

Oh no! Pleasepleaseplease ~

“Practically humiliated himself, talking a lot of nonsense, and this is unacceptable!”

“…What!?” Kami and Jirou asked in unison.

Mina continued, in a serious tone of voice, but with an amused expression: “That's right! He dared to say that he is a good for nothing, that he only makes a fool of himself and he considers himself a coward! He didn't want to hear reasons, despite my attempts to make him understand the nonsense he was saying and I got angry!”

Jiro turned to look at Kaminari: “Dang Denks, what the hell is going through your head? Are you still under the effect of a short circuit by chance?”

He was more incredulous than before, with his mouth wide open trying to formulate any sentence, without success. A marble statue. Not even Aizawa's angry look ever reduced him in that state.

Jirou continued: “Are you convinced of what you said? No wonder that Mina wants to punish you. None of us have ever thought of you as weak or a coward. Not even Bakugou, trust me.”

Kaminari raised an eyebrow: “Dunce face?”

Mina rolled her eyes: “That doesn't count. It's just Bakugou, you know him. We are all nothing but 'extras', and then you can find him always teaming up with you and Kiri.”

Jirou nodded: “Yes indeed. And for the nicknames, I don't know what’s worse. He, who keeps calling us with those terrible nicknames, or us who still answer to him when he calls us using 'em?”

“Pfft-hahaha!” All the three of ‘em burst out laughing.

“Hehe, better not find out. In any case, Mina is right. It's totally uncool AND unmanly humiliating yourself like this, sooo...” Jirou's gaze shifted to Mina: “What is the penalty for this heinous crime, Your Honor?”

Kaminari began to tremble again: he had forgotten that Mina was holding his knee hostage.

“Well... at first I thought that tickling his worst post for a minute was a fitting one, but...”

Kaminari knew that troubles were coming, looking at Mina’s smile.

“… In all my magnanimity, I decided to halve the length of my sentence… BUT Jiro will help me, by tickling the other knee! Maybe two of us will get a better result, hehehe!”

Kaminari's face, if possible, took a bluish tone: “W-what!?” it came out like a yelp.

“Um, interesting... Fair enough. I'm in!” Jiro answered, quickly grabbing Kami's knee from behind the couch.

Kaminari's heart stopped for a second and spoke with a trembling voice: “Waitwaitwait! W-wait! Wait girls, time out, please... I-I know there's no way to stop you… but please... Go easy on me… ” more than the tickle, now it was Jirou's presence that frightened and embarrassed him.

He knew his reactions very well, and they were the reason why he was everyone's favorite prey in the class, along with Midoriya. He didn't mind having tickle fights with his classmates, sometimes it even happened with Uraraka and Hagakure… but Jirou!?

They had barely touched each other, and now he was in the position of being tickled in his worst spot by her. Oh dear!!

Mina stroked his knee: “Hey hey, don't worry! It's just a game and only thirty seconds, Denks. I promise. Not one more. And we absolutely won’t be ro-OH! Right! Maybe you don't know it Jirou, but Kami is terribly ticklish under his knees. He can handle only light tickles. Be careful to never be rough, or he could even feel pain. That’s why we hardly tickle him there.”

“Ohmygosh, really? I didn't know. I'll be gentle Kami, promised. Like as if I'm playing my… electric guitar, hehe! Who knows what sound will come out.” she asked, sticking her tongue out for the joke.

Kaminari looked at both the girls, trying in vain to hide an embarrassed smile. He closed his eyes with his hands and lay down on the couch, moaning in protest: “...two against one is not faaair...”

“For this time, just deal with it Sparky!” and the torture began.

Kaminari immediately burst out laughing, holding his belly with his arms and trying with all his strength not to kick so as not to hit the girls, but they had grabbed him well and, as promised, they were giving him only light tickles.

Mina sneered: “Come on, Kami, you can do it! 5 seconds... 6... 17... 78... 45...”

Kaminari's laugh took an octave higher: “MINAAAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! DOHOHOHOHN'T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“I should play this guitar more often! It has a really nice sound, especially the high notes!” Jirou laughed.

Kaminari began to weep like a waterfall but, despite the torture, he was really enjoying all of it and, even if it was only for a moment, he could see Jirou's amused expression and smile, and it warmed his heart.

Her touch, if possible, was even more effective than Mina's: light and delicate, as if she were really plucking the strings of the guitar.

“… 29 aaaaand 30! Hands up Jirou!” Mina exclaimed triumphantly and they both released Kaminari's knees. Red as Kirishima's hair, he closed himself sideways, trying to catch his breath amid the laughter and the tickly feeling still all over him.

“Are you okay, Denks?” Jiro and Mina asked, massaging his shoulders and back.

In response, he rolled over on his back ... and raised his thumbs to the sky: “Weee!”

“Pfft-hahaha! Yes, he’s fine!” they both laughed.

"Hehehe... I-I am fihihihine... thahahanks for nehehever being rough on me...”

Mina bent down to hug him: “What are you saying, you silly! We love you! We would never hurt you!”

Jirou got behind him and ruffled his hair: “But that's obvious, Jemmingway!”

Mina then whispered in his ear: “... and I would never have dared to reveal your secret...”

Kaminari looked at his friends and smiled: “Heh… thanks girls. For everythig.”

Jirou poked his neck with her earphone jacks: “Come on, tell us the truth. In the end you were having fun, am I wrong!?”

He chuckled: “Ohohokay okahahay! You are rihihihight!” and he took her jacks to stop her.

“Of course he enjoyed it. Although most of the time he is tortured by boys, he too manages to win many fights. His Quirk is terribly effective.”

Kaminari froze... with an interesting idea in his mind: “My Ladies of the Court of Justice, may I make a statement?”

“Permission granted. What is it about?” Mina asked smiling.

Kaminari hid his eyes behind his hair: “I would like to show you that lesson is learned. And I think...” he gave some very slight shocks on Jirou's earphone jacks: “... that I have found the right way.”

Jirou jumped back, laughing at the funny sensation that had expanded throughout her body and then stopped, bringing out a worried but also amused expression.

“...What could be braver than me facing both of you, after your torture?” Kaminari asked, letting out small shocks from his hands.

Mina immediately realized what was happening and she slowly backed away: “Kami, I know what you have in mind, but your Quirk-”

“Thirty seconds. In all my magnanimity, the penalty will be thirty seconds for each of you, I promise. But I’m taking the liberty of using my Quirk, since I am alone... And the first one I catch, will have to help me taking on the second one. Does it sounds fair to you?”

The girls looked at each other, sharing the same amused look: “Fair enough, Sparky. But...”

Mina threw a pillow straight in Kaminari's face, who ended up falling on the couch, laughing.

“You have to catch us first! Run for it Jirou!”