#but travelling and attending classes and running errands might be a much to ask

[disabled-dragoon]

Messaging all my lecturers to see if I can charge my chair during classes so I don't die before I can go home

[sanjisluvbot]

As Above So Below

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Kure Rain X Black fem reader [ All are welcome but I always write with black y/n ]

Synopsis: You had your entire life just beginning, fresh into college, and as a treat, you were going on a trip across the world where you find out what your father truly does for work and why you were able to move into a nice new home. A normal young girl thrust into a world where she needed to relearn everything she ever knew and escape the clutches of an assassin clan who wanted her as a wife.

Warnings: specific warnings will be in each chapter

There had never really been too much talk about what your father did for work, where he went to once a year for five days, and that was simply what it was. All you were told when you asked was that he liked fighting tournaments and his job required him to travel—this year had finally been different for multiple reasons.

Your father got a promotion that had you move out of your two-bedroom apartment that you called home your entire life and the whole family would be coming with him on his yearly endeavors. 

It was your first year of college and spring break was the time when your father would go on his trip. The news was brought to you one afternoon in February and from then on you had spent time planning outfits and hoping that the weather would be warm enough for a short dress.

The day had finally neared and you left your morning class giddily, having multiple appointments to doll yourself up and having your father pay for it was a true treat. 

After running your errands you went home hoping to double check your bags again before dinner. Opening the door your father called out for you from the kitchen. He explained the trip's basic ins and outs, including the tournament.

“Are there going to be any well-known fighters at the tournament? Like from wrestling or something?” you questioned. 

“ Well, I do believe this year there might be a famous wrestler but I don’t think he is on your radar, I also wanted to mention why I go on these yearly trips in the first place,” he explained.

You sat on a chair paying full attention as he went through the betting system, he explained his boss sends him to his place to either represent his company if they had their fighter or simply just to place his bets. The tournament was five days long and companies worldwide including many world elites attended placing billions of dollars in this secret tournament, With the information overload your eyes widened from shock. 

The Kengan association was not only a secret fighting ring for elites which initially shocked you but, the amount of money that goes into these tournaments had your jaw hanging to the ground. The excitement had steadily built up the rest of the night even through dinner. As you were getting ready for bed a crashing sound went through the house. 

“ Have you lost your mind !” You froze in fear hearing your mother scream through the house. Quietly, you tiptoed towards your door placing your ear to hear the conversation happening across the hall. There was a constant back and forth, your mother’s anger and your father raising his voice now and then which usually meant not only was he wrong for whatever he did but—- he was trying to rationalize his misdeeds. 

Your face scrunched up hoping to hear more than just bits and pieces and you finally creaked open your door. You heard the exasperated sighs of your mother, “ How could you even wager something like this, to sign your name on those papers knowing there is a fifty percent chance you will lose it all… and for what?” 

“ I didn’t have much of a choice, you don’t understand! If I didn’t sign something could’ve happened to myself or one of you. I needed to take that chance.” My father said solemnly. 

Your head was now sticking out of your door as your curiosity grew. Hours before the first family trip in years they were fighting and it seemed to be serious, analyzing the conversation you could understand just how idiotic your father had been. He signed his life away with whatever contract and decided to come clean. You wanted to dare yourself to get a little bit closer as their voices returned to regular volume but the possibility of getting caught in their crossfire limited you. 

“ Are you going to tell y/n? Or are you going to let her know only if you lose? Truth is you don’t have the option because if you don’t do it I most certainly will.” 

Your father sighed and you heard him begin whispering, gnawing at your lip didn’t cease, and the excitement of being sneaky was trying to overpower your senses. Releasing your lip you carefully inched out of your room praying to all above that your creaky door wouldn’t be so creaky today. Just as you were about halfway out your door whined, slowly and loudly. 

Thinking fast you ran to your dresser grabbed your cup and continued out the door, your mother soon appeared out of her room. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone hoping she thinks your demeanor is natural and head downstairs. You groaned internally as she followed knowing she was going to question whether or not you heard the conversation. You continued your act as you got your drink and she finally spoke up, “ I know you heard me and your father, I need to tell you the full situation.” You groaned internally and turned around leaning on the edge of the sink. 

“ I wasn’t really eavesdropping you guys are just way too loud…”

She laughed softly and made her way to the cabinet grabbing a wine glass. You watched her like a hawk, she was going to tell you something that could possibly give you a panic attack and this laid-back attitude was already sending alarms to your brain. “ I’ll cut to the chase… Your father decided to sign a contract binding the entire family on whether or not his boss wins or loses,” She said popping her bottle of wine. As the shock began to spread across my features she poured her class silently before making eye contact. 

“ If the fighter we represent loses we will lose everything, no college, no home, nowhere to run and his boss knows that. My theory is that your father’s boss wants to ensure that the losses don’t only affect him and use us as his shield.” 

I couldn’t think clearly, her voice fading out as the reality of my situation began settling in. How could someone who claims that his family is everything— the family who he worked so hard to move them up in life— how could he forfeit our freedom so easily? My vision focused back onto her as she moved towards the island sitting on one of the stools, I quickly moved towards siting beside her. 

“ I heard the last few bits of your conversation earlier, he said he didn’t have a choice but it was his choice to start this gamble in the first place,” you said irritably. 

She sighed and shrugged her shoulder in agreement before continuing, “ Honestly I should’ve known your father was in too deep when we moved into this house only a month after his promotion.” As she spoke my mind felt like it had become clear as if the rose-tinted glasses were taken off. You had always held my father in high regard alongside my mother, they kept you happy and you’ve lived a decent life and never truly had to ask for a thing.

However, this recent promotion after twelve years made no sense when you look objectively. Being sent away to the same place every year for five years, never truly knowing what your father did for work other than ‘ he is a businessman, you and your mother were purposefully kept out of the truth to ensnare your father in a devious relationship.  

“ I think he owes us the truth, what is really going to happen if we lose the fight? What has he been doing for work and why he got this big promotion.” You declare. She nodded in agreement and continued sipping her wine. There was a comfortable silence between you now as you had no choice but to make peace with the fact that your father was a liar who signed away your entire family’s freedom. 

You both sat there for a while and made small talk about what went on during the day, how you both went out to prepare for the trip, and what you were excited to see. Anything to distract each other from a terrible reality. Sometime thereafter you heard your father softly make his way down the stairs, you looked over to your mother and saw the anger that seethed beneath her soft features, it festered hotter as he grew close. 

When he appeared no one said a word. The sadness in his eyes was clear as day and you could almost hear his thoughts racing, wondering what exactly he was going to say to his wife and daughter that could justify his carelessness. 

“ Before I say anything else— I want to apologize for putting the two of you through this.”

He sat the opposite of us and you had to keep your eyes away from him, not ready to see such distraught emotions your father had never once showed me in all my years. He cleared his throat and proceeded, “ My boss… he is a very powerful man and unfortunately, I am just being shown his true colors. After working so many years I never thought he would make me sign such a contract, I had signed multiple NDAs for the tournament this time of year I didn’t really put much thought.” He further explains how his boss spent years crafting him into the perfect vessel, the one he would sacrifice if everything went to shit.

Your father went in depth about the manipulation he faced, his boss convinced him their relationship was tight nit and he trusted my father with these tournaments because he always got the job done without ever messing up. 

The night continued and the horrible truth unraveled. The contempt for your father was on a rollercoaster, you couldn’t truly decide if you felt sorry for this poor bastard or if you wanted to scream at him till your vocal chords were raw. You settled with keeping quiet as your mother vocalized her anger for his selfishness and reckless behavior. Deep into the night, you all returned to your rooms as the flight would be at nine sharp. Laying down you laugh to yourself, a trip that was supposed to be fun and filled with new adventures was replaced with a trip that would determine the rest of your life.

The morning came fast and you were out the door before you knew it, the brisk air of the morning was waking you up faster than you would like. The drive had been quiet, with no singing and laughing everyone just running scenarios of the worst outcomes through their minds. The airport was emptier than usual and after checking in you were greeted by a group of men dressed like men in black. 

You looked towards your father as they handed him a letter, he quickly opened it to view its contents and then nervously smiled at the men before him. Looking over to me and my mother he explained that these men would be escorting us during our entire trip and we would be riding privately. On a regular day, most people being told they not only had an escort but were riding privately to their destination would be a dream come true but we all could see between the lines. This was to keep us in check and to make sure we knew, there was nowhere to run. 

The plane was luxurious, the seats more comfortable than your own bed and the people doting on you made you almost forget the sinister undertone. Mimosas, full meals, everything you could ask for was just handed to you, who wouldn’t feel like an elite? The flight went smoothly but the guards were stationed all throughout the plane and even though their glasses were tinted you could feel the eyes watching your family’s every move. 

Fourteen hours seemed to go quickly when you had no choice but to sleep or have a starring contest with a group of guards. Once you landed you were escorted in a car bringing you to your first destination. One of the guards told us we would be brought to a hotel to get ready for the night, our luggage would be boarded onto the yacht that was going to bring us to the island. 

Arriving at our destination you could tell you were by the docks, the hotel was small and truly fit for a one-day stay. The room you were provided had two twin beds and a window that showcased a wonderful view of all the boats. A smile made its way to your face seeing such a sight and you decided to relax a while before you would get ready. The guards left us to ourselves for a while and you could feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate. Your father clarified that the guards were only heading out to get the clothing we were going to wear on the boat. 

A few hours passed and the sun soon began its descent, a swift knock came to the door and your mother opened it allowing the guards to enter with bags and boxes full of clothes you couldn’t even name. You were provided formal wear and then told your family needed to be ready to leave before the sun went fully down. The next hour was spent with everyone showering and rushing past one another in and out of the bathroom. Although the situation was far from perfect you had relaxed into it letting excitement run through your veins for the first time in seventy-two hours. 

The dress fitted perfectly along with your shoes, you bit your lip thinking about the fact that your sizes were known to these people and knew that was only the bare minimum of information they had on you and your family. Half an hour later when the moon was shining brightly into the room there was another knock signaling it was time to go. You kept your head down when leaving the hotel wanting to bite back the urge to burst into tears. These next five days would determine everything but you refused to show such vulnerability to evil people who would surely laugh in your face. 

The boat was magnificent, you were quickly escorted into a ballroom where already hundreds of people filled in. The guard urged your father to mingle stating the boss wanted to make new connections and maintain current relations with overseas companies. You held onto your clutch ferociously as you smiled into the crowd, your father making his rounds introducing you to people you’ve read nasty articles about. The entire situation was so surreal it all felt like such a fever dream until your father ran into an old man with onyx-colored eyes.

Chills ran down your spine as you discretely looked at the people surrounding this man, they all had black eyes and a menacing aura surrounded them. The old man smiled shaking hands with your father and you could’ve sworn you seen your father gulp. 

“ It is nice to see you once again Mr. L/n, and you’ve finally brought your family I see.” The man commented. 

“ It’s a pleasure to see you and the rest of your clan once more Mr. Erioh,” 

“ Your boss and I spoke earlier, I am so glad you decided to sign the contract, we both knew you would eventually crack,” The man laughed sinisterly. You bit your lip as you looked at the people surrounding the man, they were surveying your family thoroughly making you want to run and hide where they couldn’t find you. You looked amongst the group and made eye contact with a man with spikey blonde hair. 

He zeroed in on you and a smirk etched its way onto his face. He could tell just how much you didn’t want to be there and you could tell just how much that excited him. You broke eye contact and returned your sight to the floor hoping this interaction would end quickly. From your peripheral, you see the man lean towards the old man and whisper something into his ear and your worst fears come to fruition.

The man cleared and then motioned toward my mother and me before speaking, “ This is your wife and daughter correct?” It felt like the alarm for the purge was sounding off as the spotlight was brought to you. You lifted your head to see everyone with black eyes staring at you and your mother like you were meat. 

“ Yes this is my daughter y/n and my wife // “

Your mother spoke up first, introducing herself, and then clasped your hand tightly in hers silently nudging you to speak up. You robotically introduced yourself and noticed the blonde man fully breaking out into a smile and chuckling to himself while you spoke. 

“ And how lovely they both are— Tell me if I’m correct, you daughter, she is in college?”

“ Yes she is attending one of the top schools, it is her first year,” 

The old man smiled towards you congratulating you on your accomplishments. You thanked him and begged silently for the attention to go toward something else not liking the amount of eyes ( especially the beadily little eyes that were drilling into you from the blonde ) that focused on every ounce of your being. 

“ I hear she has played many sports including boxing, taekwondo, and basketball to name a few,” 

Your father nervously laughed and nodded his head, “ Yes she has always been a very active girl and we made sure she had her outlets,” 

The man hummed before snapping his fingers, the blonde quickly leaned towards him and the man spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, “ Raian I believe you have a lot in common with young y/n please accompany her for the rest of their trip. I think it would be great if the two of you got to know one another a little bit,” 

Your eyes widened and you looked over to your mother in fear. You wanted absolutely nothing to do with this man and the people surrounding him, your stomach turned in knots and your mother squeezed your hand once again before releasing it. You let out a huff in disbelief, she turned away from you and moved closer to your father as a sign for you to go with him. 

Your brain short circuited when the man stood tall in front of you smiling down at you insidiously. He placed his hand on the small of your back turning you towards the rest of the party, he quickly ushered you to walk without a word and you panicked pushing his arm off of you and turning towards your parents for an explanation. 

“ Y/n let Raian escort you for the rest of the night, your father has much to talk about with Mr. Erioh,” Your mother said pleadingly. 

You softly nodded and turned around, if your mother was begging you to just go with it you knew these people weren’t ones you wanted to piss off. Still, this nagging feeling in the back of your throat wouldn’t go away, there was something more to this— this entire fiasco wasn’t as simple as your father explained and your mother was trying her best to keep it together as well. 

You followed the man out of the ballroom silently hearing your heartbeat pounding throughout your eardrums like a symphony of death. The voices began to fade as the man directed you down many halls, there were fewer people as you continued your journey and you were opening your mouth every once and again thinking of what to say first. Finally, as he directed you onto the deck and into fresh air you stopped in your tracks and stared into his blue irises.

“ Do you mind explaining what exactly is going on here?”

🪼: if you’d like to be tagged for this series please give me a thumbs up below ! And lmk your feed back

A/N: Ik you’re probably like… didn’t you say you were gonna post ch 2 of Isekai Yandere op. Yes!!! And I will however, I’m in a bit of a rut because of school and honestly the pressure of living up to thw first part lol. A lot of you really liked it and more people began writing for it so I don’t want this continuation to be underwhelming. I’m going to make a separate post abt everything but I hope you enjoy this like I did! Mwuah 🫶🏽

[thetravelerwrites]

Vincente (Werebear)

Rating: Teen Relationship: Female Human/Male Werebear Additional Tags: Exophilia, Werebear, Salsa Dancing Content Warnings: Bad Breakups, Past Cheating, Jealousy Words: 2354

A fun commission for @isabert91! A woman returns to California for work and meets a charismatic Salsa dancer, but jealousy from past betrayals threatens to derail the budding relationship. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

God, you had missed the beach.

You’d grown up in California, but had been living in the midwest for a long time for work. Recently, a new position in California opened up and you had decided to transfer back, and you couldn’t have been happier with the decision. The first day, before you’d even unpacked, you bought a pretty floral bikini with a sheer tie-up skirt and went to the beach for the first time in years.

It was a beautiful day; completely cloudless sky but it wasn’t too hot, there was a nice breeze, and the beach wasn’t too crowded. The first thing that caught your attention was a Salsa exhibition in progress on a stage close to the boardwalk. There were half a dozen couples dancing to a lively song and a crowd of people watching and cheering for them. A smile crossed your face and you went to join the audience.

After a few songs, a lone man and woman took the stage. The man definitely took your eye. He was tall and well-built, a grizzly of a man, with a well-trimmed beard and short dark hair. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, wearing black pants and a sparkling shirt that looked like it was painted on him. You bit your lip in appreciation.

The song started, and he was like a tornado, moving with incredible speed, flipping and tossing the young woman he was dancing with as if she were nothing but a paper doll. You wished you were being manhandled like that by him, though you were a bit curvier than you’d have liked and you doubted you’d fly through the air like that woman was. Even still, the thought got stuck in your mind. You also couldn’t stop your hips from swaying and your feet from moving. You remembered this song from when you were a kid and it always got you dancing.

He and the young woman finished with a sexy flare, and bowed to raucous applause.

“Thank you for attending the Bailar es Vida Dance Studio’s spring exhibition!” He called over the crowd with a thick Colombian accent. “We are accepting new students! Please check out the fliers for how to apply for classes! ¡Muchas gracias! ¡No puedo esperar para verte allí!”

He jumped down off of the stage in one fluid movement and waded through the crowd, shaking hands and kissing the cheeks of women as he passed.

As he reached you, he held out a hand, and you instinctively took it.

“I couldn’t help but notice you dancing to the music in the audience, hermosa,” He said to you, his warm green eyes crinkling with his smile. “You have rhythm. Are you a dancer?”

“Not since I was younger,” You said. “My aunt used to have gatherings every few months, but I think it was just an excuse to dance.”

“Anything is an excuse to dance, if you try hard enough,” He said, laughing. “Have you had an excuse to dance lately?”

“Not really,” You admitted. “Bad breakup.”

“Ah, mi simpatía. Perhaps you could use a new reason to dance, maybe… a date?”

You smiled, but said, “I’m sure you say that to all the ladies. You’re just trying to get new clients.”

He laughed again. “I admit, the flirting helps. What kind of dance studio has no dancers, after all? I hold you to no commitments, señorita. It was merely an offer.” He kissed your hand. “I hope to see you again.”

He released you and moved on, and you cursed yourself for saying no. You looked down and saw a business card with a number and his name, Vincente Ortiz, on it. Ooh, he was smooth.

Before heading back out to enjoy the beach, you took a flier and tucked it into your purse.

It took you a week to get unpacked and settled in both your new home and new job, but once you felt comfortable, you spent your first day off hunting for the dance studio.

Not that it was hard to find. Salsa music could be heard three blocks away from the studio, and all you had to do was follow it. The front of the studio was all glass windows, wherein you could see several couples practicing in sync. Vincente was there, watching each of them closely and correcting forms occasionally. His dress wasn’t as flamboyant as it was in the exhibition, but it was still extremely form fitting. You could see some chest hair peeking out over the v-neck collar.

He looked up and saw you, and gave you a wink and a wave before returning to his class. You watched him for a few minutes, moving fluidly throughout the large room, and when the class ended, you went inside.

“Ah, hermosa, it is lovely to see you again,” He said, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “I was hoping you would stop by. Are you considering taking a class?”

“Uh, no,” You said, holding up the card. “I was thinking of taking you up on your offer.”

His eyes got brighter. “How wonderful! Are you free tomorrow evening?”

“I am, actually,” You told him. “Is this your cell number?”

“It is,” He said with a smile, pulling it out. “May I have yours?”

You gave it to him along with your name.

“Tomorrow at seven, then?” He asked, and you nodded. “Lovely. I look forward to it, hermosa. I have another class in ten minutes, if you’d like to stay?”

“Thank you, but I actually have some errands to run,” You said. “But I’m excited for tomorrow.”

“As am I,” He said, nodding his head in a small bow.

The next evening, you’d dressed in a very close fitting red number that you hadn’t worn since two boyfriends ago. You were wearing your killer heels, your hair was done up, the works. For the first time since your ex, you felt gorgeous.

Vincente picked you up for the date looking just as gorgeous, if not more so. He was dressed in a sharp, deep blue suit, understated but still flattering. He definitely had taste.

“You look radiant, hermosa,” He said, taking your hand and helping you down the steps. You hadn’t worn heels this high in quite a while and you were grateful for the assistance.

“You look very handsome, as well,” You told him.

“You’re the one that shines tonight, mi estrella,” He said, hooking your arm around his. “We’re going dancing!”

“But you dance all day long!” You said with a laugh. “Aren’t you tired of dancing?”

“Who could grow tired of dancing?” He asked as he opened the passenger door for you. “That’s like growing tired of air or water. Besides, it won’t be salsa. There is a club I go to often with good music and a nice atmosphere, very low-key kind of place. Not too many people and the music isn’t too loud, so we can sit and talk when we get tired.”

“That sounds nice,” You said. “They have food?”

“Not at the club, but there is an excellent restaurant next door,” He replied. “Do you like sushi?”

“I love sushi,” You said. “There wasn’t much of it where I was living before, and I didn’t trust what was there.”

“Well, tonight will be a treat, then.”

Dancing was a lot of fun, and after several hours of being on your feet, the two of you decided to go for dinner. You were seated at the best table, and were given fresh, lightly salted edamame and water with lemon as soon as you sat down. Vincente was apparently friends with the owners, which reaped its own benefits.

As you were sitting and talking, happily munching on yellowtail nigiri, a group of people from the studio came in. Vincente didn’t stand, but he greeted them, kissing the hands of the women. You bristled but didn’t say anything.

Don’t get annoyed, You thought to yourself. It’s the first date and he’s a friendly guy. It’s way too soon to turn into the crazy jealous girlfriend and start scrutinizing his every move. He’ll think you’re nuts and dump you.

Though, you had to wonder if being dumped early would be better than the pain of being cheated on later.

The group moved on, and Vincente turned his attention back to you. You determined to put it out of your mind and have a good time. You’d earned it, even if it might not last.

It was nearing midnight by the time he dropped you back off at home. He walked you to the door of your apartment and went in for a kiss. You allowed it, thinking to only give him a peck and go in for the night, but something pulled you toward him, some kind of magnetism that wanted more. For a while, you gave into it, wrapping your body around him and holding his face in your hands. His large, warm body molded to yours and his arms were tight around you.

Eventually, you broke apart. “I think I should go in before I cross a line I may not be ready to cross.”

“I understand,” He said a little breathlessly. “A second date, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” You replied, biting his lower lip a little to make him groan. “Next weekend?”

“Perfect,” He growled, nuzzling at your neck. “Until then.”

A few weeks passed in a blur. Work was amazing, and you met up with Vincente two or three times a week, each date unique and fun. You did end up salsa dancing with him at least once, and though you were a bit rusty, he was a brilliant dance partner and got you back into the swing of it pretty quickly. Before you knew it, you were flying across the floor with complete confidence, mirroring Vincente’s own self-assurance, and you danced until you were both breathless.

It was amazing, but there were still things that bothered you. He was still a bit flirty and openly affectionate with people, not just other women. He seemed to know everyone, and vice versa. He doted on you when you were together, too, of course, but it still nagged you in the back of your mind and you thought it was still too early in the relationship to bring it up. The two of you hadn’t even discussed being exclusive yet. As far as you knew, Vincente still saw your relationship together as a casual one.

It wasn’t until a month after you started dating and he referred to you as his girlfriend while introducing you to someone that you decided to bring it up.

“I couldn’t help but notice you called me your girlfriend,” You told him as the two of you walked home.

“Does that bother you?” He asked, his hand tightening around yours. “I had assumed that we were growing close enough to use the word, but if I was mistaken, I understand.”

“No, it’s not that,” You said. “It’s just…” You let out a breath forcefully. “I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding crazy or jealous.”

“You can tell me, hermosa,” He said, looking down at you, his attention on you and you alone.

“Well… I’ve told you about my ex, right? Well, several exes. The ones that cheated on me?”

“Of course, and they were fools to have done it,” He replied.

“It’s just… after being treated like that… you start getting apprehensive about certain behaviors. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love how outgoing and friendly you are, and I’d never suggest you change yourself just because I wanted you to, or act like a crazy person and forbid you from seeing friends or coworkers, but… when you kiss other women’s hands or rub your fingers down someone’s back…”

“You feel suspicious?” He asked.

“Not suspicious, necessarily… but it does make me raise my guard,” You said. “I just don’t want to get hurt. If we’re moving into a new stage of our relationship, it’s something I thought we should talk about.”

“I see,” He said, and then was silent for a little while.

His silence made you nervous. After a few tense moments, you said, “I’m sorry. I get if that’s a lot to lay on you right now.”

“No, no, I’m glad you said something if you were unhappy,” He replied, pulling your hand through the crook of his arm and patting it. “I’ve been evaluating how I act around other people just now, and since you’ve mentioned it, you’re right: I am a little bit… inappropriately touchy, maybe. Usually, it’s not something I think about, since when I’m single I have no one to fuss about it, and most of my relationships have been completely casual. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had a serious girlfriend before now.”

“Now?” You asked, looking up at him.

He stopped and turned to face you, his face soft with fondness. “Yes. I enjoy your company very much, hermosa. How you feel is very important to me. I will be more mindful from now on. I wouldn’t want to push you away.”

You laughed a little self-consciously. “That’s sweet of you, Vincente. It’s a lot to ask, I know--”

“No, it isn’t,” He said. “I wonder to myself how I would feel if another man were to kiss any part of your body, hand or otherwise, and I know it would make me feel uneasy, if not upset. I understand how you feel and I’m glad you talked to me. You can always talk to me about anything at all, no matter what it is. Secrets are not meant for keeping.”

There was a brief shadow across his face as he said this, but it passed in an instant and you wondered if it wasn’t just a shadow across the moon that hung half full in the sky.

“Now, come on. It’s getting chilly. We should get you home.”

He wrapped his own scarf around your neck and took your hand, walking you back to your apartment under the moonlight.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[project-ohagi]

Hayato Yamagata x Reader - Soulmate AU {Haikyuu!!}

[Soulmate AU: Wherein you have the first words your soulmate ever speak to you, written on your wrist].

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm.

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Although the day was long, the evening seemed longer - significantly so.

Volleyball practice had ended a while earlier, yet here he was, remaining in the building to run some errands. The dormitories weren't far, so it wasn't as if actually minded. Glancing down at his wrist, a solemn sigh passed his lips. Gentle fingers traced the inscription: the first words his soulmate would ever orate to him, the words fated to spark an inevitable romance, which would blossom and blossom. Despite currently being unfamiliar with his predestined partner, his heart soared at the very thought of them. He knew, instinctively, that no matter their appearance, to him, they would present the most beautiful divinity.

Their aura would be unmatched in compassion towards himself and others - this was Hayato's sole expectation. Besides that, he couldn't care less. His heart thundered with the determination to shower them the utmost love and affection. He would treat them as a god, a goddess, a mixture of the two, or some genderless celestial. Whatever their manifestation, he would love them, both passionately and unconditionally.

However, the phrase engraved into his wrist was quite unsettling.

'No, please don't touch that!'

Without context, it sent insuppressible shivers all the way down his spine. Obviously, worry consumed him - it always did. He couldn't comprehend the truth of the message. Yet...an ache tugged so violently at his heartstrings. Those words bled pain, desperation. If they, his future, needed help in any way, then with his fiercest conviction, he wished to bestow it upon them. He wanted to find them, to cradle their frame tightly, close to his chest, so that his raging heartbeat could echo in their ears, acting as the proof of his love. He desired nothing more than this, and to witness the majesty of their smile. It made him giddy, like a young child arresting its parents' attention.

...Until his mind played back the phrase, droning on in miserable notes, as an amalgamation of all the world's depressing songs.

His yearning for the information of what agonised you so greatly was causing slight mishaps in his daily life. You had yet to physically enter the scrapbook of his life, but he could almost feel your energy...fragments of your pain. It was suffocating, sometimes. But still, he didn't completely understand. Meeting you, at this point, was absolutely imperative; he figured that it could potentially be the difference between life and death. Another abysmal thought began to plague his already-throbbing mind - what could you be referring to? What would cause such wretched words to tumble from your lips, and would they be in retaliation to a forceful act on his end? He really hoped that wasn't so. If he traumatised you to the extent at which your very vocals trembled, then, soulmate or no, surely your heart wouldn't ever allow itself to love him.

That imagining was a cursed reel, and he vowed never to replay it. Besides, there couldn't have been any point to worrying so tirelessly, when you were still yet-to-be-discovered. Hayato could hazard a guess that, at the least, you weren't in his class, and, perhaps some mystical connection might have compelled you towards each other, if you ever passed in the halls. Therefore, he decided that either you simply didn't occupy a space in the third year, or you didn't attend Shiratorizawa, period.

Although his brain favoured the latter, his heart pounded for the former, since it would obviously make finding you so much easier. Hayato had been raised to place faith in his gut instinct, and right now, his gut seemed to produce two words: foreign and danger. He was unsure whether this meant that you were of a different lineage, or that you attended another school, and consequently would be alien to him.

But, danger...

...There was no doubt - you were in a precarious situation, or on the losing side of a violent, bloody battle. He prayed for your eternal safety, day in and day out. You would forever arrest his unconditional support, no matter the circumstance.

Shaking off these depressing pictures was difficult, but necessary, because torturing himself over them during your omission from his life, would only affect his health and grades on a greater scale. Hayato trudged around the building, finding the papers and other things he needed, and prepared to head back to his dormitory. So much of his mental energy had been wiped out already, and he was exhausted. Lying down on his lovely, soft bed sounded blissful.

Instead, mere moments after falling, he registered that what he was kneeling atop wasn't a bed, but in fact...a girl?

Embarrassment permeated his very core. He never achieved much with women, mainly due to his sharp glares (yes, the unintentional ones - perhaps he had the masculine equivalent of resting bitch face), but this was just...oh my lord, why? He refrained from punching himself, only since terror had gripped your features, and he didn't wish to disturb you any further. He scrambled to his feet, apologising profusely, and reaching out a hand, to help you up. Those almost-feral, chocolate eyes ghosted over you, and in an instant, he was transfixed. You adorned the regular, Shiratorizawa uniform, but it appeared to be slightly larger than you needed. Your sleeves were very long, he noted, and he couldn't see your wrists at all. Luscious, (h/c) locks swept across your face, partially shielding your (e/c) orbs from view.

"Eh...are you alright? Can you stand?" His genuine concern captivated you, but you were panicked, tears welling up amongst the glittering constellations.

When you failed to respond, he started rubbing his neck, in an effort to soothe his nerves. This was a situation unlike any other (he was often a lot more careful of his surroundings), but his aid seemed to offend you, for some reason, so what could he actually do? The waterfall, which dripped from your eyes, was something he desired to wipe away. He detested this - watching you suffer in relative silence. Why weren't you letting him help? Couldn't you speak? Was something about his actions, his words, so wrong? After a minute or two of deliberation, he decided to perch himself on the floor, in front of you.

"Do you need somebody to talk to? Should I go and find a teacher?"

The words remained lodged in your throat, slowly suffocating you.

You squirmed uncomfortably, every movement revealing slightly more skin, although you didn't appear to notice. Hayato's eyes travelled to your wrists, now exposed, and his blood ran cold. His compassionate nature kicked into overdrive, and he immediately locked on to your arm. Meek sounds of discomfort rolled off your tongue, as the knife-inflicted wounds seared with pain. He was speechless, left gawking at your arms, specifically the one he had grabbed. Despite his concern, he proceeded to squeeze your wrist (albeit, absentmindedly - he was far too focused on the actual cuts). His fingers moved closer to them, as his mind scrambled desperately for any trace of logic.

Fear widened your eyes, causing you to whisper-yell, "No, please don't touch that!"

Hayato's mind ceased its constant rotations.

His eyes graced your own, partly in astonishment, partly in worry. He remembered all his previous musings with great sobriety - he was right to be concerned for your safety. Although, it hadn't ever truly crossed his thoughts, that you could have been your own arch-nemesis. That was just...it was awful, the fact that you felt such hopelessness, to rely upon a knife to release the agony. The deadly war in which you were engaged...it was against yourself, and that knowledge hurt immensely. He wished to place gentle kisses along all those beautiful, yet disheartening battle scars.

They were beautiful, he affirmed, because they were a part of you. They had been carved on to your flesh, and in spite of their secrecy, you owned them. With enough time and care, they could be removed, but they were a testament to your survival. You had lived, through everything which tried to kill you, and that made you strong - stronger than him, by far.

With determination, he maintained the eye-contact.

"You can talk to me, about anything. I'm not going to judge you. Everyone feels pain - people just cope differently."

"You - You're not disgusted? Scared?" Your voice quivered, emotions spilling to the surface.

"No, of course not. Those scars are yours, and you're beautiful. I'm not scared of them - I love them, like I love you."

This boy, he was honestly too sweet. Someone of your position, your weak constitution, didn't deserve he who behaved so admirably. He possessed a strength with which you could never compete. He was everything you had ever wished for in life. But...you couldn't keep him, and he couldn't keep you.

Not in this lifetime.

Before the illusion vanished, before it was too late and regret began to fester, you smiled, as brightly as possible. You wanted to leave him with something positive, if only for a mere second. Hayato mirrored your expression, ears burning crimson with the inclusion of your little "I love you too.". A question danced on the tip of his tongue, but he was never allowed to pose it.

"Hey, Hayato! What're you doing over here?" Said male turned, meeting the perplexed gaze of a certain, infamous red-head.

"Tendou?" He muttered, equally as confused. "I'm helping someone I bumped into."

A strange look came upon the boy's face.

"Well, did she run away before I got here? I didn't see anyone!"

The chocolate-orbed one paused, asking, "No...she's right her-"

Although, when he tried to glimpse your divinity once more, he found nothing but an empty spot. There was no indication that you had ever been in the general area, but he hadn't noticed you leave. Tendou surely would have seen you...?

Was madness consuming him?

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok, if I’m going to keep proper DM records for D&D on this tumblr, I need to actually write them.

Being An Account of Game #1: In Which Several Youth Attend A Party, And Some Experimental Magic Has Less Than Optimal Results

[all game logs thus far]

The Setting:  It is a Thursday night in the city of Karna Vi, called by many the last surviving bastion of the Trava Empire in Highnorth.  In the mostly student-inhabited districts around the University Karnassa, scholars are working, resting, eating, hanging out--and having parties.

More excitingly, there’s a classics major party tonight.  And it’s not just any classics majors.  It’s the self-styled Young Pre-Glorians.  In a society mostly built on a relatively even mix of human, gnome, and dwarf citizens, where humans are the unnecessarily tall people who don’t live nearly long enough to ever get really good at rulership or scholarship (though gods know you won’t find a more versatile, intense group of people in any species you can name), this little cluster of classics majors includes two humans, two tieflings, and a half-orc, all living in one slightly shabby student apartment.  Every single one of them is going to be dead before they’re a hundred.  Every single one of them is obsessed with figuring out how things worked at least 2000-4000 years ago.  And they party like it.

Our NPC hosts for the evening include Peary (a bubblegum-pink tiefling who makes historically accurate bathtub gin, and reconstructs ancient crafting methods from diary fragments and scraps, and den-mothers all the rest of her roommates with constantly chipper affection); Athenasi (or Athen, a human cleric of the Church of Lost Things made entirely out of sticks and paleness, who buries himself in ancient records trying to reconstruct the specific rituals used to properly worship long-mislaid gods); Riva (an enormous half-orc sportsball player and also wizard who mostly only bothers using spells to light his bonfires and translate dead languages, intent on uncovering the distant origins of magic as written ritual); Lisha (a human who got briefly campus-notorious last year when she reconstructed an ancient power-binding ritual well enough to actually summon an archdemon who hasn’t been seen in three millennia and somewhat incidentally get herself warlock powers); and Wren (a dark-skinned, gray-haired tiefling who knows very nearly everything there is to know about the politics and power struggles spanning half a continent and seven centuries, 5,000 years ago, and does not particularly care to know anything else).

These five like hands-on experimentation and practical research.  They’ve thrown historically-accurate parties in celebration of a dozen ancient forgotten holidays, with Peary’s bathtub gin to really make it work.  There’s rumors about an invitational-only orgy last year.  In short, their parties are the place to be if you’re the kind of nerd who likes to study hard and party harder.  Which...does not quite describe our PCs, but it’s a fun party to be at anyway.

Marion the human paladin has spent enough afternoons pouring through ancient records with fellow church acolyte Athen that they can’t really turn down the invite, even if Athen’s insistence on “you need to talk to other live people more than once a week!” is ridiculous and hyperbolic anyway.  Kevin the elf barbarian has been a cornerstone of the University sportsball team for ten years straight, and would never turn down a party invite from a teammate, let alone a party that looks as promising as this one.  Kou the halfling bard, who spends so much time with the music-majors half the university forgets she isn’t one, got invited along with her bard friends to be the entertainment.  

Gnome rogue Reigenleif, of course, is the beer supply.  Reigenleif is always the beer supply.

It’s a Thursday night, and a four-bedroom apartment with attached rooftop deck is crowded full of graduate students eating cheese, drinking a dozen different kinds of alcohol, and arguing about history.  Life is, for the moment, good.

The Hooks:

One by one, each of our PCs--vaguely familiar to one another, in a nodding-acquaintance sort of way, though nothing like the friends they’ll be by the end of the week, let alone the eventual end of this campaign--finds themselves tugged into conversation with an acquaintance.

First (in-game time, though we played these way out of order thanks to a handy d4), before the party even begins, Reigenleif heads down into Old Town to pick up some beer.  It’s one neighborhood over from the district of ancient, pre-Imperial ruins and thousand-year-old buildings where the University and its denizens live, so most students don’t know to come this far for good, cheap beer in the first place.  (Of course, even if they did they wouldn’t know to go where Reigenleif’s going.)

Her destination is a small bakery owned by two dwarven brothers and a sister.  Out the front, they sell excellent bread, with a very nice additional line in cakes and cupcakes.  Out the back, the middle dwarven brother Milosh acts as middle management for a smuggling ring that’s known in the right, quiet corners for its ability to get just about anything for anyone, given the right place.  Reigenleif runs errands on his say-so on weekends, in between avoiding her own research and helping out with everybody else’s.  Buying a few kegs of decent ale that hasn’t been marked up for tax, and then reselling it to thirsty college students, has basically been paying her rent for the past two years.

“How’s the family?” Milosh asks, and, “how’s that school thing going?”

“Eh,” says Reigenleif, and, “school’s school,” and, “parents still want me to go straight,” which isn’t even a pun because every player at the table is so generally disinterested in heteronormativity that it’s too easy to even bother with.

“You know,” Milosh says, “you really want to do more of this and less of that, could be Anna’s got a job for you.”

Anna’s not a real person--she’s been the code name for the leader of the smuggling ring for over a century, and given that her so-called last name literally means ‘human’, probably if there ever was a real Anna Cheloveko, she’s long dead now.  An Anna job might be hard, but it’ll pay, and then some.

The job, Milosh explains, isn’t too complicated.  There’s a certain package that needs to get to the city of Ormiras, and then past Ormiras a week or so’s travel up into the local mountains.  The contents of the package don’t matter, but with the strictures on the large industrial teleportation circles downtown, it’s unlikely to pass through without comment.  A University student, on the other hand, looking to do some research in the library of another University, could use one of their teleportation circles without anybody raising an eyebrow at their research materials, now, couldn’t they?  Grab a few friends to head with you up into the mountains, and when you come back down, there’d definitely be a job waiting--back here in Karna Vi, or with some of Anna’s friends in Ormiras.

(Reigenleif and her player go on a digression about bags of holding, immovable rods, and other magical items attempting to pass through teleportation circles, and then the potential of measuring continental drift with immovable rods over a long enough period of time.  Milosh raises his eyebrows and wonders if maybe Reigenleif should stick with those University-types after all.  This is about to prove extremely indicative of Reigenleif’s entire character.)

With that offer in mind, Reigenleif heads off, six kegs of ale for thirsty college students in hand.  This would be tricky for the average human, let alone a three-foot gnome, but Milosh lets her borrow the Bag of Holding for the job.  It’s no real risk.  He knows where Reigenleif lives.  He knows where her parents live.  She’s good for it.

Second, an hour or two into the swing of the party, Kevin and Riva are out on the roof deck supervising a cluster of increasingly tipsy party guests as they climb onto each others’ shoulders and attempt to joust with a couple of sportsball sticks.  The pair of them are taller than any two gnomes stacked together.  They are taller than nearly any gnome on top of any dwarf here.  They are taller than most double-stacked dwarves.  They make good referees.

They’re cleaning up some good-natured bruises and spilled beer when Kevin’s friend Poppy finds him.  She’s a half-elf, and barely as tall as his bicep.  She has dark curly hair, and smudged-up makeup, and she is already drunk.

“Kevin,” she says.  “Kevin, Kevin, look.  Can I ask you a favor?  Can I beg you a favor?  Please?”

Poppy is in Kevin’s cohort in the art history department--they started with the same incoming class, ten years ago.  You don’t really graduate out of university, in the Nine Cities.  You study until you get hired into a professorship or government position, or you run out of money, take a lesser job, and quit.  Poppy’s dad is an elf, with plenty of resources to throw in her general direction.  She hasn’t run out of money yet.  Ten years is a lot longer for a half-elf like Poppy than it is for Kevin.

Poppy says, “if I don’t do something big, I will never get hired, ever.  I will never amount to anything.”  She says, “I know there are Glorian-era ruins on the Iris Peninsula that haven’t been found.  I know there’s something there.”  She says, “I know there are elven aesthetic motifs in Glorian-era Irissan fragments.  Seven hundred years before elves ever made it to this continent.  If I go, I can prove it.  It will matter.  It will mean something.”

“You grew up on Iris,” she says.  “And you’re good at hitting things.  Right?”

It’s been 512 years since the Elven Ascendancy broke their isolation and sailed forth into the world for the first time in six millennia.  Five centuries since the very first elves set foot on the continent of Nokomoris.  The Glorian Empire conquered half the Iris Peninsula, and was driven out, and collapsed, a thousand years ago.  Not a single soul under Glorian rule had ever even heard of elves.  And sure, elves live on the Iris Peninsula now--in the cities, like proper elves, in shining tall buildings with a lovely background view of the tangled wilderness where they never, ever go.  Elvish art in Glorian-era ruins?  It would upend everything anybody knew about history.  It would be huge.

“It would probably make my parents really happy if I tried to do a big art history thing instead of focusing on sportsball so much,” Kevin muses.  “Sure, I know people.  We can probably put an expedition together.  I bet my parents would be happy with that.”

(Kevin and his player do sound enthusiastic about the idea of getting some good research and publishable papers, which tells this DM a lot I didn’t already know about his priorities.  Sure, he likes sportsball, but getting an actual job in art history would make his parents happy.  Kevin says ‘that would probably make my parents happy’ like it’s the only long-term life goal he’s ever bothered assuming he probably needs.)

Third, Kou and her band take a set break.

Lio’s been switching between singing and rocking out on the zither, because even in a cluster of bards, Lio makes a good frontwoman.  She’s a tall dwarf, dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyeliner, dark everything.  She’s a star in the music department, a cornerstone of student activities committees, a manic pixie overachiever, a goth anarchist who knows exactly what’s wrong with the world today, the artificial urban-wilderness divide that’s been imposed on society in the new century, the problems of traditional religion and modern capitalism.  She’s a level 3 bard.  She’s got a townie boyfriend in one of the local guilds who doesn’t mind when she makes out with boys, girls, and everything else on offer at parties.  She is, without question, the coolest person Kou knows.

Lio is drinking water and also taking a couple of shots of Peary’s bathtub liquor, and Kou is hanging out and watching the party, and Lio sighs.

“You want to get out of here?” she asks.  “Not tonight, I mean--the whole University conspiracy.  Just go.”

“Yes,” Kou says, instantly on board without a single detail.  Her girlfriend has been gone for three weeks.  Her body is ready.  Her entire everything is ready.  “When?  Where’re we going?”

“We could totally make it as bandits out by Zakri,” Lio says.  “You know they’ve been doing all kinds of weird construction stuff along the main road between the two seas, trying to restart the canal project, and the main road’s been in shambles for months.  I have a total plan.  We could camp out along one of the smaller roads and take out caravans, be bandits, live like queens.  It’d be great.”

“Yes,” Kou says again.  “Absolutely.  I’m in.  I know some healing stuff, and I have a pocketknife.  Let’s do it.”

(Kou asks precisely zero questions about where, or how, or why, or even who, for the entire conversation.  I knew this would be the case by halfway through session 0, and I am delighted to be proven right.  Kou is ready for absolutely everything and absolutely nothing.  It’s going to be great.)

“Hmm, but we’d probably need more people,” Lio muses, in that way people do when they remember all the practical reasons they’re mostly joking about quitting their job and running away to live in the woods.  “Unless you know how to use a sword.”

“I know some people!” Kou says.  “Let me see who I can talk to.  We can totally do this.”

Fourth, Athen takes a break from circling around the party with an eye out for any serious injuries or alcohol poisoning risk to find Marion in the kitchen, eating cheese and arguing about historical probability and textual interpretation with Wren.  They’re having just about as much fun as an antisocial math nerd with a special interest in history can have at a party full of academics who also have a special interest in history--which is kind of a lot, come to think of it.

The party is loud and boisterous, so they head to Athen’s tiny closet of a bedroom to chat.  There’s something he needs to talk about, and Marion’s a good enough friend to listen.

“So you’ve been talking about doing some fieldwork,” Athen says.  “Have you thought about going west?”

Athen’s family lives west of Karna Vi, in the wide highland plains of the Highnorth, where there’s nothing for miles but cattle, a few sheep, a lot of rye and oats, and the occasional potato field.  In his grandfather’s day, they were part of the Trava Empire, and that was fine.  Theoretically their village doesn’t belong to anyone but themselves, now, and they farm as best they can, and sell what surplus they can at the closest big trade-town to someone who carts it into Karna Vi and sells it to city bakers and and housewives and leatherworkers, and it’s fine too, mostly, except for when it’s not.

Lately it’s not, so much.  The Uvencatra Empire in the western mountains has been making some motions towards marching eastward across the plains, and they’re eyeing the region Athen’s family is from next.  He’s concerned.  He’s really concerned.  He’s maybe about to drop out of school concerned.

“You know how to fight things,” Athen says.  “And maybe you’d find things over there, in the Western Orthodox church records.  I can go home and help heal people, but I don’t know how to protect them.”

“Oh, I am not the right member of my family for this,” Marion frets, and Athen frowns.

“Would any of the rest of them care?” he asks.

“Point,” Marion agrees.

(They’ve got a quiet monotone the whole time, slow to assemble sentences except when they start contemplating the actual possibilities of research within the Uvencatra Orthodox churches, spilling out hypotheses and jargon like water.  Marion’s player has degrees in anthropology.  Marion cares about Athen’s problems, but has no real thoughts about them.  Marion has thoughts about historical research.)

“Let me think about it,” Marion says, and the party goes on.

The Fight

By dawn, most of the party has cleared out, though not quite all of it.  A couple of failed Con saves mean that Kou is dozing in a chair in the living room, not quite with it enough to notice the rest of the band leaving, and Marion is passed out cold in Athen’s bed alone.  Reigenleif has spent most of the party hanging off to the side, watching people and occasionally scooping up anything that appears to maybe be a weapon that’s been carelessly left sitting around, tucking it into the Bag of Holding just to make sure this party doesn’t go sideways in a nasty way; she can’t leave until the kegs are given back over into her keeping, so she might as well help clean up.

Kevin, out on the deck, has not actually realized the party has ended yet.  He’s only just beginning to notice the lack of people as the first rays of sunlight creep over the city, and a very loud bang sounds from the top of the roof.

It jolts Kou dozily awake and Marion tumbles onto the floor in an instant.  Kevin and Reigenleif, already outside along with Riva, look up just in time to see the outlines of Wren and Lisha on the roof in the pale morning sun, alongside some billowing smoke and two cat-sized things skittering along the roof tiles in acid green.

Then Wren falls off the roof to the deck and takes so much damage in a ten-foot fall that her scrawny little NPC self ends up unconscious.  Then combat begins.

There’s a flutter and a flurry as the quasits on the roof hiss at everyone and skitter away.  Initiative is nobody’s friend, and fighting something ten feet above everyone’s head isn’t easy, but Reigenleif upends her entire bag of holding and sends a pile of belt knives, a couple of blunt-ended reproduction historical weapons, and a fancy letter opener skittering out over the desk, and hides behind a convenient barrel.  Riva grabs a sportsball stick.  Kou has enough movement to rush out onto the deck just in time to see Lisha fall; “Oh, fuck!” is now the official incantation for her Healing Word, and Wren is safe, although not very happy.

Kevin tries to intimidate the quasits, all six-foot-seven of burly elf growling directly at them, and it actually works on one.  The intimidated quasit instantly turns into a bat and swoops off through an open window into the living room to Get Away.  The other quasit, annoyed at the attempt, casts Fear on Kevin in retaliation.  It is super effective.

Marion makes it out to the living room, wearing no armor but carrying the heaviest candlestick she could grab, just in time to see an acid-green bat swoop through the window and start destroying things.  It’s very early and she is probably slightly hungover but also she’s a good researcher and knows what a quasit looks like, so she whacks it.  It bites her, poison and all--make that definitely pretty hungover.

Athen made it outside around the same time as Kou, and has been trying to heal people who need it as Riva tries to whack at a tiny demon on his roof, Kevin attempts to cower behind a gnome, and Reigenleif and Kou both throw things.  Kevin succeeds in a wisdom save after another round or two, and manages to do some good thwacking damage.  The quasit turns into a foot-long centipede in an attempt to escape, and skitters along the wall through the door into the house, before Kou Cutting Words’s it to death.

Lisha tries to jump off the roof to get down and help, and sprains her ankle.  Athen is already inside giving Marion a hand, and none of the PCs seem inclined to help.

Between Marion and Athen, the second quasit goes down relatively quickly.  The first one has already disappeared into nothingness, and the second one follows soon behind.  Marion lay-on-hands’es themself, and drinks some water, because they have utterly forgotten that quasits have venom at all and damn, this hangover.  The nauseous feeling passes after a minute or so, anyway.  Athen goes outside to heal Lisha, Peary appears from her own room wanting to know what the hell is going on out here, Kou is jumping between ‘I insulted it and it died and I’m real cool!’ and, ‘did my entire band just ditch me here because I fell asleep?’, and everything is equally as chaotic as it was in the middle of the fight, when the knock sounds on the door.

The Head of Campus Housing brought security with him, and he’s not happy.

The Aftermath

Marion pulls rank and some excellent persuasion checks to keep the entire set of Young Pre-Glorians from getting evicted right now, and everybody else in the room from being put on housing probation.  Marion lives with their parents on the other side of the city, or, more accurately, in the library--housing probation doesn’t mean much to them, but it does matter to everyone else.

Lisha, apparently, was attempting to use the limnal nature of sunrise, sitting over a party that both was and was not a party any longer, with people below who were drunk, and dreaming, and no longer drunk, on a day of particular celestial configuration, to do some magic experimentation, because obviously.  Wren wanted a familiar.  Lisha could totally use a ritualistic setup to cast a spell she isn’t high enough level for and doesn’t actually know, and also alter it to bind to somebody that isn’t even her, and make it work.  Maybe not today, but probably next time, right?

The PC’s are somewhat annoyed with Lisha, but also agree that the university just does not have enough ritual magic experimentation labs, and that really needs to be corrected.  They also figure that, housing probation or no, it’s maybe not a bad time to get out of town for a bit.  They’re good at fighting things together!  They’ve got some options!

They toss some ideas around--Kou’s option involves banditry, and Marion’s pretty sure they’re not allowed to do that, but Reigenleif’s has, like, three weeks in the mountains, and that sounds pretty awful too.  Athen and Poppy both need help, and they’re both friends--Kou doesn’t care where they go, and Reigenleif is up for whatever sounds interesting.  Poppy’s research trip sounds like a good way to make the university like them, which after this display might be particularly useful.

In the end, the decision comes down to Marion, who’s happy to help people but is mostly only considering either of these treks as a road to more god-research, to help define the variables to determine the maximum number of gods the Church of Lost Things still has to discover.  There’s a western orthodox church in the Uvencatra Empire, out past where Athen’s family lives, and they could have all sorts of records and knowledge that Marion doesn’t...but nobody knows what the hell is going on in the Iris Peninsula.  The entire place is apparently a forest, and that means people don’t travel it much for some reason?  It’s all sort of unclear and difficult to understand from this side of the continent.  So what the heck, Poppy’s thing it is.

Poppy is somewhat taken aback to be woken up slightly hungover at 10 AM by Kevin and also a random human knocking on her dorm room door to tell her that yes, they and two other people she’s never met are in for her expedition, and also can they leave tomorrow please?  But also sure.  Why not.  These things happen when you ask Kevin for help.  She’ll talk to her advisor to push those expedition grant funds through, and they’ll leave on Monday.  Maybe let’s have lunch or dinner this afternoon?  After Kevin and Marion sleep?

Reigenleif, meanwhile, takes Kou along to return the bag of holding and empty kegs to Milosh, in the hopes that having a highly charismatic good-persuasion bard along might just increase their chances of persuading Milosh to let them keep the Bag of Holding for this journey.  Little does she know that, while Kou is fun and delightful and good at persuasion, she’s also an awkward flailer who doesn’t entirely understand what they’re supposed to be convincing Milosh of in the first place, and has no proficiency in deception whatsoever.

The conversation stumbles and bobbles a bit, before Reigenleaf gets to the meat of the situation: they’re not going to Ormiras, but does Anna maybe need something delivered or picked up from another of the Nine Cities?  Perhaps something on Iris?  Like, say...

“Cloud Bay,” Reigenleif says, naming the only city on the Iris Peninsula she can remember at 7 AM on zero sleep, which is unfortunately not the same one Poppy mentioned to Kevin earlier.

“Cloud Bay?” Milosh says.  “Shitty weather and elves?  What’re you going there for?”

In an attempt to leverage her higher Deception score over Persuasion, Reigenleif starts to spin a relatively believable lie about engineering research and her own degree work.  Unfortunately, she doesn’t roll particularly well.  More fortunately, or perhaps more unfortunately still, Milosh doesn’t actually care ‘why Cloud Bay’, aside from as a rhetorical question, so it’s not particularly useful in any case.

“Look,” Milosh says.  “Let me talk to Anna about Cloud Bay.  Check back in tomorrow or Sunday, maybe we have a job for you there, maybe not.  A’right?”

They snag a couple of muffins on the way out.  Kou feels a little useless, but so be it.  Marion crashes in Kevin’s room, since he just needs a corner to meditate in anyway, and everyone naps until the meet-with-Poppy time in the evening.

The Campaign Plan

Poppy is just a little taken aback at the new crew she seems to’ve acquired, but she’s ready to go and they’re game, so, sure.  Let’s do this.

She elaborates a little on what she told Kevin, in some angles, and says less in others.  The Glorian Empire, as some of the party know better than others, stretched out from here in Karna Vi across most of the Attiks Sea and around the continent.  They sped the civilization in the Midlands, they spread the Eight Churches throughout the continent, they founded cities, they built roads.  They founded Port Charé on the coast of the heavily-forested Iris Peninsula and began to build in, cutting trees and building roads and forts and towns as they went.  Kera the Conqueror, famed emperor, oversaw the expansion across easily half of Iris, naming literally everything after himself as he went.

Iris was hard to conquer, and the Empire began to pull out not long after Kera died.  They left ruins and roads, and the people of Port Charé, who’d lived in this city for two centuries at this point and were not about to move back to the other side of the sea, even if this was going to be the only bastion of civilization for a thousand miles.  There was a working road to Ormiras.  They’d manage.

As for those ruins, deep into Iris--who knows what’s there?

Sober and in front of three strangers, Poppy doesn’t say anything about pre-Elven Incursion elven aesthetics.  It doesn’t really matter, because Kevin told everybody everything, but some things are just too historically improbable to admit you believe.

“So,” says Poppy.  “Are you in?  I can get grant funds and our travel paperwork Monday morning.  We circle into Port Charé and follow the roads as far as they go.  I have an old map, Imperial-era.  We can find things nobody’s seen in hundreds of years.”

The party doesn’t need to ask each other.  They’re in.  They all know they’re in.

Six months on an archaeological expedition in a forest for four city kids, three of whom have never seen anything more than a single ten-acre orchard in their lives?

Oh yeah.  Total piece of cake.

[bibliophilicwitch]

Alright, enough of you would like to see my likely long rambly post about my 3-day weekend away so let’s do this.

About a month ago a friend of mine connected with me and asked if I would be interested in a girls’ weekend because there’s a loud music festival that happens practically in her backyard every year and she didn’t want to be in town for it. This friend lives in Appleton nearly 2 hours away from me and we rarely have reasons to be in each others’ neck of the woods anymore so I don’t really visit with her much anymore. So when she asked I really wanted to say yes, but she just so happened to be suggesting a 3-day trip the same month as my 6-day vacation to travel to North Dakota to see family and attend my cousin’s wedding. We planned a budget accordingly and I just gotta be conscious of money the next couple of weeks.

The music started on Thursday and ideally we would’ve left town that evening, but I ended up being scheduled to work until 9 PM closing time at the pharmacy that night… of course. We had plans already scheduled for midday on Friday, so I had to pack everything before work and then left immediately from work for my nearly 2 hour drive and arrived at her house at about 11 PM. I listened to some of the first campaign of Critical Role - time well spent.

So our Friday morning was spent running a few errands and finishing prep to leave Appleton before heading out to Milwaukee including running her pup to a friends’ house, getting groceries, and picking up coffee to fortify ourselves. We headed out around 11 AM I think and arrived early for our massage in a Milwaukee suburb with time to spare. It was my first massage and it was pretty good other than too much on my neck which led to a light headache. I really should’ve said that it was hurting too much, but I wasn’t sure if it would or would not be beneficial as I had never had a professional massage before.

Our hotel was in Wauwautosa and we arrived a good two hours before check in so we went and got food at Dave and Busters which, for those that don’t know, is an arcade for adults - meaning there is a bar. It was fun, but 3 of the 5 games we played didn’t work correctly or at all and then it was time to head out. Kinda wish we had had the opportunity to go back for another hour since I had plenty of credits still and would’ve really liked to play Mario Kart and check out one or two more games. I did play a Star Wars game with the wrap around screen which was pretty wicked cool.

That evening, after we checked into our hotel and washed off our oils from the massage, we went to a suburb to participate in a Paint and Sip class - this one was a paint your pet class and they even had little gift bags with goodies for you pet. I picked a picture of Binx that was low lighting which they oversaturated so you could see both his eyes, but since they oversaturated the picture he no longer looked like a true black and white tuxedo but like he had shades of grey and black all over which would not have been my kitty. Since I was not following the picture exactly it was proving impossible to distinguish his features, so I gave up and just used my time to fill in the areas I knew I could and plan to ask another of my friends, who works with me for the library Paint & Sip classes, to help me finish it some time. No idea when that may actually happen since she is super busy, but I have plans that meant I was okay with my experience. Not thrilled since it was a $35 class not including our wine, but eh. Meanwhile my friend was frustrated because even though she asked a few times for help with colors she never got close enough to be happy with her picture. On top of that she had chosen a picture of her goofy dog with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, but they CUT OFF HIS TONGUE and then didn’t make the picture as large as they could’ve so she had a lot of negative space. She was unimpressed to say the least. At least our wine was good. Really the class should’ve had prerequisites such as having participated in their other classes to be sure customers would get the best out of their experience. They did see that I had not finished and were offering a free session to join their free paint classes for help finishing… which we couldn’t do since we both live too far away (in my case a good 4 hours). I do really wish it had been a more standard paint class with the fast blended background and straightforward foreground. Ah well.

We finished day one at the Cheesecake Factory, a first for me! My friend commented that she was never very impressed by their food and she wasn’t surprised do be unimpressed yet again (though I didn’t mind my food at all), but we finished off with cheesecake, obviously, and that was delicious. Unfortunately I forgot my leftover cheesecake at her house in Appleton.

Saturday was our busiest day. We started at the Milwaukee Public Museum which was excellent though it really is a whole day affair not the two hour filler we planned for it. About halfway through my friend started to get anxious about her car and concerned it had a ticket or had been towed and I think she was also just getting tired of being on her feet. I think I was overall more interested in the exhibits too and she seemed to only be truly interested in specific things. I’m also a reader and wanted to actually read some of the shit while she just breezed through exhibit after exhibit. Like I said, we really didn’t have the time, but it was disappointing to be rushed so much.

Then we went downtown to The Safe House which she had wanted to check out. She did not realize it was literally right downtown and there was some anxiety, but we made it! For those that have not heard of Safe House, it’s a restaurant where the servers are in-character as secret agents and guests are also secret agents. There is a password to get in and if you don’t know it you have to prove you aren’t a spy by acting out some silliness. The interior is a wild and zany pieced together hodgepodge with references to spies in popular culture. Guests are given a list of missions (clues) to wander about and try to figure out the password. If you figure it out you are able to get a discount on their merchandise.

It was more confusing than my friend was expecting and not as engaging as she had expected either. She was pretty sure she figured it out, but neither of us were really worried about the merchandise, so we just didn’t even bother. They had a pen listed that we both kinda wanted, but they didn’t have any in stock.

After that we went to the North Point Lighthouse which is a lighthouse museum and I really enjoyed that little attraction. After that we finally headed back to the hotel for a short break and to get bandages because she wore strappy shoes that were trying to eat her feet. We discovered there was some sort of convention going on so the hotel was packed and TOO busy for only two slow elevators.

Next we went to Water2Wine, a winery in a suburb that imports their grapes and then makes their own wines in house. It was cute and pretty decent, but we weren’t overly impressed tbh. Next door to the winery was a Half Priced Books which my friend suggested instead of going to Barnes and Noble in the mall. So we wandered around, which was the first time I’d been to a Half Priced Books, but she got bored relatively quickly and dragged me out well before I would’ve like saying I could go to Barnes and Noble instead and then if she got bored she could wander the mall. So then we ended up at the mall and I was ready to settle into browsing for nearly an hour before wandering around the rest of the mall until close, but again she dragged me out likely because it isn’t that fun to wander by yourself. I did pick up a book at both places, Of Fire and Stars and Spinning Silver. I could’ve stayed in the bookstore all evening and likely only bought the one book, but nooooo, I ended up in the game store and bought an expensive gorgeous metal dice set. Pft. I also bought macarons which I had never been able to try and the ones I got were disappointingly too sweet for me to enjoy. We were both ready to be done, so we grabbed Chipotle, another first for me, and just curled up with a little TV before bed.

Sunday we got brunch at the ludicrously hipstery Cafe Hollanders. Very good and excellent atmosphere, but I couldn’t get over how chique it was being. The cafe was located in this ritzy area filled with high end stores that neither of us could afford, but we wandered around and gawped at insane prices before heading out to the Milwaukee County Zoo which I have WAAAY too many picture of to share here, so just check out my Instagram. I mentioned a few times, because I was seeing merchandise, that we hadn’t seen the red panda and my friend said she thought it might be a seasonal exhibit. After I was home I checked… it wasn’t. We literally missed it and I kinda wanna cry tbh.

We left Milwaukee around 4 and I ended up home around 7:30, but I tossed some gas in my car, washed it, and ran to the grocery store first so idk exactly how long my drive was. Though not everything was amazing I still had a pretty damn good time, my friend on the other hand seemed to get bored and/or impatient and/or disappointed/frustrated on a regular basis and I swear she didn’t enjoy the trip nearly as well as I did which just makes me sad. I also realized that since the last time we had really hung out we have both changed. Whereas I am online a lot and am fairly socially conscious she was not and she made a few borderline racist jokes (okay, not really borderline at all). Nothing nasty, just those ingrained stereotype jokes that are just not funny when you recognize how hurtful they can be. It also became more apparent that our interests do not overlap much at all. Which is another post to ramble about later. I loved the lighthouse and the zoo and wish I could’ve had just a bit more bookstore time and arcade time. It was nice to get out of town and not think about work while getting to catch up with an old friend though.

[zoe-engels]

Human Interest Story: A Love Letter to London

 If there is a depiction of gloom in the form of a city, it would be London. The sun never shines, rain is a daily companion, the buildings are dark and cramped, shoved into every possible space, and just stepping out of the house is likely to get you run over by someone rushing past. The city is stress and bitterness in its purest form.

But I love it.

A year ago, if you had asked me, “Zoe, how is London?” I would have responded with something along the lines of, “It’s good I suppose. It’s a city, nothing special really.” Oh, how naive I was. The city had taken my heart piece by piece and I had not even noticed. A year later, and all it took for me to recognise this was to move to the other side of the world. To the sunniest city in Australia, where the buildings are wide and flat, where space is an abundance and cafés close at three. A city that feels like a hug. And yet, the hole in my chest yearns for London.

My heart’s first piece perhaps, I lost to London’s diversity. Soho with its luminous window displays and hipster coffee shops. Kensington with its parks and museums. Notting Hill’s gorgeous house-fronts and flower shops. Brixton, home to the best concerts and night outs. Shoreditch for the best vegan food and street art around every corner. Camden’s markets. Westminster, the Queen’s home. Do I need to say more?

The city took another chunk at Pride. Everybody that has ever attended Pride in London knows how much of a pain, yet immense pleasure it is. Every major road in the city is blocked, which is amazing because it means you can see the parade almost everywhere but at the same time there is nothing more agonising. See, when you are trying to meet up with friends to enjoy the parade, it will leave you wandering around forever, trying to figure out how on earth you are supposed to get to the other side of the barricade. Or it leaves you to find some food in Tescos, only to discover that you have to queue to even get in and when you do, you find all that is left are frozen ready meals. But then, when you sit outside with some fruit you almost gave your arm for, still waiting for your friends that are lost in the crowd somewhere and you start talking to some gay guys next to you, everything is okay. These are your people, this is your city and today is the day you celebrate this, a whole capital joining in.

My next piece fell to the fashion. The street-style is somewhere between hobo-chic and artfully paired designer pieces. The first time I noticed how much it had grown on me was in spring last year after I came back from a trip to Paris. Prior to this, I had just purchased an oversized denim jacket made to look ‘vintage’ with frayed edges and discoloration. Paris had a clean, polished beauty. Paris did not appreciate this height of comfortable fashion. I had neglected to pack another jacket, so I was stuck with it for the rest of the trip and I felt out of place wherever I went. The very day I came back to London, I was sat in a ramen restaurant, wrapped in my jacket and staring out at the red buses driving past, when the waiter came over to ask if everything was alright with the food and to tell me that “oh I really love your jacket” and where had I gotten it? I smiled. I was home.

Now, the next thing is so close to my heart, you better not fight me on it, because I will win. My heart’s next piece went to sandwiches. Whether from a Pret that slowly seem to take over every corner in the city, or in a meal-deal alongside some crisps and a drink, sandwiches are England’s true delicacy. Forget fish and chips, there is nothing better than a store-bought sandwich when you are out running errands or hungry at the end of a long night. At this point, I also have to mention Spoons. There has been no pub-chain more reliable than you, with two for one pitchers and banging meals. I miss you.

The next splinter I passed on to the Metropolitan line. If you ask me it is highly underrated as a tube line. But I also used to live in Harrow, so the Metropolitan line was a literal lifesaver. Later on, the Victoria line got another piece; fast, and free from the usual tourist crowd, it is truly a blessing. London’s transport system in general, although horribly expensive, is one of the best I have seen. Switching tube-lines is effortless, buses go pretty much everywhere 24/7… Just don’t travel at rush hour. Or in the summer.

The last piece of my heart I lost to the people. I have yet to see another city where the ratio of business people versus artists is so balanced. Sure, creatives lean more towards Hackney, with its grungy facades and roomy cafés perfect for spending the day at with your laptop. And sure, you will find more business people near Square Mile, the capital of corporations. But they all share the streets unlike anywhere else, along with families and tourist and celebrities. London is an extraordinary melting pot of social classes and characters. I was lucky to be a part of it.

Yes, London is a metropolis made of exuberant rent prices and constant complains about the weather, but in the midst of it are rainbow flags and passionate people, running towards their dreams. It is the city that accepts everyone and puts a smile on your face with reluctant sunshine. But be careful, you might lose your heart to it.

Target Publication: Time Out London (Print)

[pepperoniwhirlwind]

~Honesty Hour~

     I was asked by @lovelynhiddenkittens to do all 150 questions in the Honesty Hour tag! 😮 Thank you, lovely and curious stranger~! 😆 But since that’s a lot for one post, I’ll break it up into chunks of 50 questions so it’s easier for all my blogging buddies to digest. 😊 Starting... now! 😝

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?      That would have to be Alex. He was warming my hand for me because it was ice cold. Though he doesn’t know that’s because I intentionally held my super cold drink for a really long time with that hand, then casually mentioned how cold my hand was so he’d try to warm it... >//> Introverts are sneaky flirts, what can I say? 😆😏

2. Are you outgoing or shy?      Shy, definitely. Though there are alters in the system much more outgoing than me.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?      Tyler! 😄 I’ve been staying over at her apartment every weekend this past summer, and always enjoy our movie and gaming marathons. 😝

4. Are you easy to get along with?      I think so. I’m not very easily angered, a pacifist at heart, and a people-pleaser at my core. 😂 So it’s pretty hard not to get along with me.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

     I don’t know, Alex is a sweetheart so he’d probably help, and Tyler cares but she doesn’t do bodily fluids. 😆 So, it depends. And considering I’ve never been drunk, and seem to have too high a tolerance to get drunk without having to rob a bank to fund the sheer volume of alcohol needed, I doubt this problem will ever arise. 👌

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

     Kind and funny people. 😊

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

     I have no idea, but I won’t rule it out. Alex has kinda been cute and flirty towards me lately, so maaaybe~? >//>

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

     Uh, well, the subject of the last question was Alex, so, him. 😆

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

     A wee bit, yes. 😅 I put up a good facade though, but being asexual, sex is kinda... bleeehhh~ for me. e~e

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

     That would have to be Tyler. :3 She’s my bestie from my ASL classes~ 💜 We have a looot in common, so we talk for hours at a time, in between movie and game marathons that is. 😆

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

     Context: I was spamming Tyler gifs of adorable animals earlier today.

     The Text: “Aaand now I gotta get ready for therapy, so this shall be the crowning gif of adorable goodness!”

     Followed by a gif of two golden retrievers fighting over a tennis ball, with a third retriever (being shoved into the frame by a fourth, offscreen, retriever) resting his head on the two dogs feuding over the aforementioned tennis ball. 💖

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

     This is rather hard... so I’ll just list the songs that I listen to on repeat a lot.

     1. “The Cure” by Lady Gaga

     2. “Insomnia” by IAMX

     3. “Middle of the Bed” by Lucy Rose

     4. “All the Rage” by Allie X

     5. “Wires” by The Neighbourhood

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

     Yes. No. Kinda? It depends... If I’ve just had a shower and my hair is clean, I love it. ^w^ But if it’s been a bit and my hair isn’t all that clean I just feel embarrassed if people touch my hair. e~e

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

     Ehhh... Depends which alter you ask really. Me, personally? Not so much. My family has always told me our family line is cursed to have bad luck, so if I believed in such things, I guess I’m doomed. 😂

15. What good thing happened this summer?

     I’ve started working on myself and my social life, strengthening friendships irl and online, or, at least attempting to. 😅 Sometimes I’m just bad at not isolating. But this past summer I’ve been spending basically every weekend at my friend Tyler’s apartment and hanging out with her core group of friends. It’s been a nice break from the chaos of the school semester. 😊

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

     Well, considering she’s on the other side of the country back in my home state, probably not. She was a lovely first kiss, but I’ll leave it at that. 🤭

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

     With how many planets there are in the galaxy; the universe? Not to mention how many planets within The Goldilocks Zone that share a similar atmosphere to earth within the observable universe alone... How could I not think other life exists? At the very least, in some kind of bacterial form, though, I dare to dream a little bigger. ✨

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

     Well, I’ve never really had a crush, per se, though plenty of squishes. :3 But my first squish did not turn out well, so, no. :c

19. Do you like bubble baths?

     Yes, especially if I go all out and light candles and play music on my phone. 🕯️🎶😌 However, I don’t do that very often. I take showers mostly.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

     Yeah, they’re chill people. The neighbors with the overly-territorial pitbull that kept us prisoner in our car for hours and broke into our fenced-in backyard to take massive doggie dumps out of sheer hatred for us moved away because their dog kept terrorizing the neighbourhood and was going to get put down if it didn’t stop breaking out to chase children on trikes and joggers onto rooftops. So, the neighbors we have now are awesome! 😆

21. What are your bad habits?

     Sometimes I’m too honest and don’t know when to stop talking, other times I’m so socially anxious I might as well be a feature of the wall at parties. 😂 I also have trichotillomania, a compulsive disorder related to OCD, in which I get really strong urges to pull out my hair sometimes, so definitely a bad habit... Just talking about it kinda... ehhhh... moving on. e~e

22. Where would you like to travel?

     A lot of places. Though Scotland is at the top of my list. Scotland is a huge part of my family’s heritage, and some of my family still lives there. So I would love to visit and spend some time in nature there~  💕

23. Do you have trust issues?

     Yes.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

     Well, anytime I get to de-stress is nice. I know wiping down my face with a face wipe always feels nice and refreshing after a day out running errands and attending classes. It’s the little things that are the most help~ 😊

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

     All of it. If I could edit my body, that would be nice.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

     Hit snooze on the alarm a couple times, get up, walk to the bathroom... you can imagine the rest.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

     Nope, I’m quite happy with my vampire pale skin, and even my dirty blonde, curly lion’s mane of hair, and my blue eyes ain’t so bad either. I’m not completely hideous, just 97% hideous. 👌😂

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

     Myself. My alters. Tyler. Alex. My Tumblr fam~ 💞

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

     No, because I usually cut them out of my life after they break my heart. Some have tried to stay friends with me or become friends with me again years later, but... no. I don’t need backstabbers in my life.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

     Maybe, someday. When the time is right, I’ll know, until then, I’ll enjoy my singledom~ :3

31. Is your hair long enough for a ponytail?

     Yes, it’s in a ponytail right now actually. 😆

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

     NONE.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

     gtlo nhy (Oh gawd... What a name. 😂)

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

     Mi-Suk used to play on tennis and basketball teams, but our spine is a little too deteriorated nowadays to attempt such things.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

     Without TV, hands down. I’d die without music. I bleed music.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

     Yep. I had a bit of a squish on this kid named Travis in elementary school and never told him. My frenemy told him I had a crush on him, and he never talked to me after that. 😭

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

     I either make a joke or just enjoy the silence. Depends what mood I’m in. Sometimes I’m more introverted and just want to sit in silence or listen to music instead of talk. Other times I just wanna connect with people and I tend to crack a lot of darker, self-deprecating jokes as a way to break the ice, or tension if I feel some.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

     I want someone who is genuinely kind, patient, and funny. It also helps if they are neurodivergent like me, and have similar enough interests, sense of humor, etc. to my own. c: Overall, I just want to feel comfortable and safe with someone. 😊

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

     I buy food at Fry’s... so... Fry’s?

40. What do you want to do after high school?

     I’m already out of high school, bub. Now I’m in college, and I still have no idea. I have dream jobs, dream homes, dream lives. But none of them seem realistic.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

     Depends on the crime, really. If I hired someone to babysit my hypothetical children, and they forgot to tell the children to clean up their toys, I believe a second chance is in order. If they, however, ditched the job to mack on Paul Puffy Lips next door, leaving my children to starve, I don’t believe I’ll be giving them another call.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

     It means I’m probably really socially anxious at the moment and would prefer to not be made the center of attention. o~o’

43. Do you smile at strangers?

     Yes, sometimes to spread cheer and joy, other times because I’m worried they’ll think I’m an up-to-no-good deviant or zombified by depression, which is how I feel at least 80% of the time, and worry everyone notices, even strangers, who probably would not assume such things, but that’s social anxiety for you. 😂

44. A trip to outer space or the bottom of the ocean?

     Why not both? However, humans are so preoccupied with space that we’ve only explored 5% of our oceans. I don’t want the oceans to feel lonely, so I’ll visit them first. 💙

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

     Sometimes the looming responsibilities in my life, other times I just don’t get out of bed. 

46. What are you paranoid about?

     A lot of things, but the most pressing concern of mine is that everyone will inevitably leave me because I’m a terrible, horrible human being who doesn’t deserve friendship. 😅

47. Have you ever been high?

     Every day, if I can help it. I have a medical marijuana card and have for a couple years now.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

     No.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

     No, not really. Nothing is coming to mind. 

50. What was the color of the last hoodie you wore?

     Well, I’m wearing a hoodie now, and it’s gray, with the Nirvana emblem on the front. 😝 It’s my favorite and coziest hoodie of all.

[crispychrissy]

Define Justice - Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Dean Smith heads out to the crime scene in New York with the task force and makes an important discovery that can lead them closer to their suspects. Pairing: Dean Smith, Agent Novak, Agent Gabriel, Charlie, Lisa, Brady, other minor background characters Word Count: 2777 Warnings: Language, minor sexuality, description of a crime scene, blood Author’s Note: Chapter three! It’s here! Thank you to @saxxxology for betaing and being my muse. Next chapter is when things really start to heat up, so buckle up everyone! Tags are still open, so please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.

Series Masterlist — Complete Masterlist

Dean sat in the conference room for five minutes after everyone left, staring down at the folder in front of him. He still couldn’t believe he was selected. He was going to be working on the highest profile case the FBI had seen in decades. Smiling, he shook himself out of his thoughts, gathered his papers, and tucked them back into the folder.

He was almost back to his desk when he realized he’d forgotten Charlie’s coffee. He did a U-turn and walked back to the break room, where there was an agent from the meeting already in there making coffee. He looked up when Dean entered and narrowed his eyes at him.

“So, Smith. Who’d you pay off to get that task force spot?” He scoffed and then grinned. “Or are you one of those ‘on your knees’ types?”

“Piss off, Brady,” Dean growled as he poured a cup of coffee, “you’re mad I was selected instead, I get it.”

“Not really” Brady tightened his jaw, “enjoy being the errand boy for the task force. They obviously need someone to fetch them coffee like a good dog,” Brady gestured to the cup in Dean’s hand. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

Dean smirked and looked up at him. “This coffee’s for Charlie. You know, the smoking hot southern redhead that sits next to me? You might want to try talking to some women, sometime. It might help with your self-image issues and obvious alpha-male overcompensation. Isn’t that right, boy?”

Brady gritted his teeth and opened his mouth to say something, but swallowed the thought and stormed away. Dean laughed softly to himself and walked out of the kitchen back to his desk. Charlie was on the phone when Dean set her coffee down on the corner of her desk, and she smiled, mouthing ‘thank you’ under her breath. He sat down in his chair and began to type up a crime scene report for a senior agent when Charlie hung up her phone.

“Well? How did it go, hon?” She asked, peeking her head over the cubicle wall and sipping from her coffee.

Dean looked up and smiled. “They picked me. First meeting is at three.”

Charlie gasped and set her coffee down before running around the desk and pulling Dean into a bone crushing hug, which earned looks from several surrounding agents. “I knew you’d get it, Doudou! I’m so happy for yah!”

Dean smiled and rubbed his hand up and down her back as she vigorously rocked him back and forth in their embrace. “Charlie… can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes.” Charlie stepped back and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay,” Dean chuckled. He sat back down at his desk and then furrowed his brow. “Wait… did you call me doo-doo?”

Charlie laughed and shook her head as she sat back down. “No, hon. It’s spelled d-o-u-d-o-u. It’s French. It means ‘darling’ or ‘sweetie’.”

“I see. Well, keep that between you and me, okay?” Dean laughed as he continued typing up his report.

“Will do, Deano.” Charlie replied before she took another sip of her coffee and got back to work.

An alarm on Dean’s phone going off tore his attention from the eleven page report he was finalizing, alerting him that it was two forty-five and he needed to head out to the meeting. He silenced the alarm and locked his computer before he gathered his folder and a notepad.

“Knock ‘em Dead, hon,” Charlie said as Dean walked past her toward the conference room.

“Always do, cherry,” Dean said, throwing Charlie a wink.

“It’s ‘chérie’, darling,” Charlie said, giggling at Dean’s horrible pronunciation. “And you know you’re not my type.”

“Maybe not, but how else am I going to learn French without flirting with you?” Dean laughed as he walked away, earning and eyeroll from Charlie as he made his way to the conference room.

“Agent Smith!”

Dean turned around to see Novak walking toward him with a piece of paper in his hand. “Yes, sir?”

“Change of plans. Head home, pack a bag. Wheels up in two hours; we’re heading to New York. Local LEO’s are done with the crime scene and are letting us take over.” he handed Dean the paper and watched as he looked it over.

“First class?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We have to fly with weapons, and it’s easier to be in first class so civilians don’t get nervous. We’ll meet at Gate 7,” Novak strode past Dean, “and make sure you bring your badge with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean whispered, staring at the plane ticket in his hand. He grinned and sprinted back to his desk to grab his bag and turn off his computer.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked, poking her head over the cubicle wall, watching Dean frantically clean up the paperwork and files spread out across his desk.

“Plane to New York for the task force in two hours. Need to go home and pack.” Dean muttered.

“Go, hon. I’ll clean up your desk and shut everything down. Don’t miss your flight,” Charlie said, stepping out from her cubicle and into Dean’s.

“Really? Charlie, you’re awesome!” Dean said, pulling Charlie into a hug.

“I know,” she laughed. “Now get going! Go!”

Dean nodded frantically and grabbed his bag, making a run for the door. He was down to his car and back to his small apartment in only twenty minutes. He opened his door and was instantly greeted by a hyperactive bulldog jumping all over his legs and whimpering. Dean smiled and shut the door behind him before bending down to the pup.

“Hey, Benny,” Dean cooed, scratching between his ears. “You’re going to have to stay with Lisa for the next couple days, okay?”

The dog barked once in reply, feigning understanding. Dean stood back up and walked into his bedroom, pulling out a suitcase from his closet. Once he packed enough clothes and emptied his bathroom of important toiletries, Dean grabbed Benny’s leash, his bag of food, and his favorite squeaky toy and headed over to the apartment next door.

Lisa, Dean’s neighbor, was a stay-at-home mom of an eight-year-old boy named Ben, and always took care of Benny whenever he needed to leave town for work. Dean rapped three times on her door, and after a few seconds, Lisa answered with her arms full of clothing.

“Hey, Dean!” She said before looking down at the dog. “Well, if it isn’t my second favorite Benny! Here, come inside, I’m in the middle of laundry.”

Dean smiled and ran his hand over the back of his head and down his neck as he followed her inside and closed the door. “Hey Lisa. You mind taking care of him for a few days? I have a sudden business trip for work. Sorry about the short notice.”

“Of course,” She brushed a dark lock of hair out of her face with a finger. “You know Ben loves his canine twin. He’ll be excited. You just let me know when you’re back.” Lisa took the leash and supplies from Dean. “Have a safe trip!”

“Thank you, Lisa. Next time you need anything fixed on your car, you know who to call,” Dean smiled, turned around, and headed down the stairs to meet his cab.

The drive to the airport and the flight passed in a blur. Dean enjoyed his time in first class, and could definitely get used to it if it came with membership on the task force. The flight to Syracuse airport was uneventful, except for a nervous flight attendant asking why there were so many armed FBI agents on the flight (Novak assured her that there was no danger on the plane to calm her down), and they all arrived a few minutes before eight that night.

Once the group of five agents were on their way to the hotel, Novak turned around in his spot in the front passenger’s seat. “First thing tomorrow morning we’re heading out to the crime scene. We’re leaving at seven and expect to arrive close to eight. Local sheriff will meet us there. Try not to cause too much disruption tonight, okay, gentlemen?”

A couple of noises of approval followed by some laughter echoed throughout the van right as they pulled up outside the hotel. It was a very nice hotel (the name HILTON on the front should have given that away), and Dean was surprised at how much extra money the task force must have kept just for travel expenses. They all piled out of the van and began walking into the hotel.

“You okay, Smith?” Gabriel asked, noticing Dean stopped walking with the group.

Dean offered a shy smile. “I’m… yeah. Just not used to all of this…”

“Luxury?” Gabriel offered.

Dean nodded. “Is this a usual thing for you guys?”

“On any other task force, no. But this Justice Killer task force has been around for years, so the Bureau puts aside extra money to make sure the agents involved are at their best and are comfortable.” Gabriel opened the door for Dean, gesturing for him to enter.

“Thanks. I think I’m still in shock that I’m on this task force,” Dean laughed, walking with him toward the main area to check in.

“Take it from me, bucko. Novak was thoroughly impressed with your theory and he really thinks you have potential. Enjoy the ride.” Gabriel said before stepping away to the desk clerk to get their room keys.

Dean nodded and looked around at the spacious lobby and exquisite decor. This hotel had to be at least three hundred dollars a night for each room. He smirked when he saw signs directing patrons to an indoor heated pool and was happy that he remembered his swim trunks. Gabriel waving a keycard in front of his face broke his daydreaming.

“Earth to Smith,” Gabriel handed the keycard to Dean. “You’re in six-twenty. Rest of the agents are in six twenty-one and down. You headed out tonight?”

Dean started walking toward the elevator with Gabriel and smiled. “Nah, I’m gonna go for a swim and hit the sack. Want to be on my game tomorrow.”

“Boring. Suit yourself. See you in the morning,” Gabriel said over his shoulder as he walked toward the hotel bar.

After a swim and some pie from room service, Dean fell asleep on the huge king bed in his suite. His phone alarm went off at five thirty the following morning and he rolled out of bed and got directly into the shower. By six thirty, he was already down in the hotel’s restaurant eating breakfast and reading the newspaper. There was an article about the murder and he was skimming over it as Gabriel stumbled into the room and sat down at his table.

“You look like you could use some coffee, man,” Dean said, raising his voice a little.

“Not so loud, please. I think I might still be drunk,” Gabriel muttered, grabbing the large jug of coffee and pouring himself a cup. “They give you those complimentary little champagne bottles, what the hell are you supposed to do with ‘em?”

Dean smiled as the other agents one by one arrived for breakfast as well, the last being Novak at five to seven. He swiped a croissant from the table and devoured it in a few bites. “Ready to go, gentlemen?”

The ride to the cabin took a little less than an hour, and just like Novak said, there were two squad cars at the scene when they arrived. Dean took his time looking around the location, noticing how secluded the cabin was and how easy it must have been for the killers to get in and out.

“Smith and Gabriel, join me inside. Guthrie and MacLeod, get the evidence from the sheriff and catalog it for transport,” Novak said, walking toward the front steps of the cabin. Dean sprinted over to him while Gabriel slowly shuffled after them.

The second that Dean walked inside the cabin, the strong smell of bleach hit his nose. It was extremely evident that someone cleaned up the scene after the killing was done. He wandered into the kitchen, taking note of how much detritus and food scraps there were scattered across the room.

“Look at the kitchen. There was no way this guy used bleach to clean his house. He doesn’t strike me as the type to clean anything, period,” Dean thought out loud, drawing the attention of Novak and Gabriel, who both joined him in the kitchen. “The body was found downstairs?”

“Yes. Officers who found the body said the front door was open and light was spilling onto the street,” Gabriel said, flipping through a folder in his hand.

“The door being left open was done intentionally. Our killers are too meticulous and controlling to let something like that happen. I’m guessing it was done to draw the attention of the officers so his body would be found quickly,” Dean gestured toward the stairs to the basement. “One of them called police and reported an officer down, knowing that all officers in the area would respond. I’m guessing one of them at least has some kind of police training or knowledge.”

“Gabriel, why aren’t you writing this down?” Novak nudged Gabriel with his elbow.

“Don’t worry guys, I have it covered,” Dean pulled out a tape recorder from his pocket and wiggled it in his fingers. “Let’s head to the basement.”

Dean walked down the stairs to the basement and groaned as the smell of stale blood hit his nose. The bed was still in the same position as it was when Mark Allen had met his brutal end. Dean studied it for a few moments before tilting his head.

“Do you have the autopsy photos?” He asked.

Gabriel shifted papers in the folder in his hand and pulled out several photographs from the medical examiner’s report. Dean flipped through them and stopped when he came to the photo of Mark’s knees. He squinted and used his thumb and pointer finger to measure the length and width of each bruise.

“These bruises were made by two different sized shoes. One is a women’s size seven or so, and the other one,” Dean looked up at the two agents, “is a women’s size nine.”

“Wait a second,” Novak shook his head. “Are you saying we have two women serial killers? I mean, women serial killers alone are rare. But two working as a team? Come on.”

“I don’t know what it means, sir, but unless she has two different sized feet or works with a man who wears women’s shoes, it looks like two women. I’m going to check out back.” Dean said as he walked back up the stairs and out on the back porch with Novak and Gabriel following closely behind.

Dean walked outside and down the steps into the backyard of the house, noticing the drying mud surrounding the cabin. “Did it rain after the murder?”

“Yeah. A few hours after the body was found a couple thunderstorms passed through. Why?” Gabriel asked.

Dean gestured to faint indents in the mud that trailed from the edge of the stairs and to the edge of the woods. “These look like footprints coming from the woods over there.”

“Deer tracks. It’s noted in the file report.  Not uncommon for deer to be around these parts looking for food and mates,” Gabriel said, reading from the crime scene report.

“These aren’t deer tracks. Why would a deer walk up to the back of the cabin multiple times and follow the same path back down the side of the cabin back into the woods? It doesn’t make sense.” Dean followed the trail of faint footprints to the edge of the woods. “You guys can wait here if you want.”

Both men shook their heads and followed Dean as he carefully made his way through the woods, following the muddy tracks. Dean came upon a small clearing behind a row of trees, and instantly recognized four equidistant imprints as tire tracks from a vehicle.

“Yahtzee,” he said to himself, pointing at the tracks as they made it to the clearing. “Tire tracks.”

Gabriel looked up at the trees surrounding them and smiled. “Looks like the trees blocked some of the rain from the treads so we might be able to get a match.”

Novak came over and patted Dean on the back. “Way to go, kid. I think you just gave us the first lead we’ve had in over a year.”

Forever: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @ididntasktogetmadedidi @trashimaginezblog @jensen-gal @spnbaby-67 @feelmyroarrrr

Define Justice: @winchesterprincessbride @manawhaat @httpslouisoh @mereka18 @thelittleredwhocould @fallingoutthetardis @introverted-book-lion @unicorndreamer1622 @luciferskidd @deans--chevy--baby @dean-winchesters-babydoll @dizzy-sunshine @ryantherandomhero @frickfracklesackles

[pixiealtaira]

Naughty or Nice

Drabbles and Drawbles for Advent 2016 prompt 1: Stocking

Pairing: Kurt/ guy from Stage Combat class

rated at least pg13, maybe M to be safe

Kurt had no qualms calling his Dad and telling him no, he would not be coming back to Lima for Christmas. He had done so the year before, while he was engaged to Blaine, and dutifully gone to all the Christmas gatherings Blaine wanted to attend…the one with Tina and the one with Sam’s family which they had to drive to and the one that Rachel’s dads hosted and the one at Mr. Schuester’s and the Warbler gathering and the one at the country club his folks were members of…and Kurt had spent pretty much no time with Dad and Carole.  And he spent most of the holiday annoyed because Blaine just didn’t understand that he ought to have been home with Dad and Carole.  But whenever Kurt would say he was staying home, Blaine would toss a fit and usually call Carole, who would then insist he go out, so their sadness didn’t cause Kurt to be sad as well (as if he wasn’t already...honestly, sometimes he couldn’t understand anyone in Lima. Just because he wasn’t there, in Lima, didn’t mean he didn’t grieve as well.).

Anyway, he listened to his dad complain at him for a while, but when he asked what the plans were, his dad admitted that so far, they weren’t even planning to put up a Christmas Tree since his dad and Carole wouldn’t even be home until about the 21st of December. And well…Kurt simply didn’t think that that was worth going home for.  If it made him ungrateful and he was displaying a not so nice attitude, well…his dad took Blaine’s side for more than three months after this last fiasco, so Kurt’s naughty and nice mental list might be skewed still a bit and he didn’t really care.

Not when he had something to stay for.

Something cute and perfectly wonderful to stay for, or rather someone who was cute and perfectly wonderful to stay for.

A long sit down in Finn’s old room after talking to Blaine at Scandals and then spending a day with Rachel yelling at him for not doing what she wanted how she wanted had Kurt reconsidering staying in Lima.  Then Elliot called and drilled him on what he was doing and why and then out of the blue Cassie July called and yelled at him and told him how stupid he was being and well…Kurt did not stay in Lima.  He went back to NYADA, got his work study at a Handrick’s Roving Children’s Theater (which basically went from school to school helping teachers in schools that couldn’t afford real music teachers or anyone pretty much for that matter put on programs that involved singing, dancing, and drama), and took classes at NYADA. He got a job at Callbacks, and learned to mix drinks so he could be a back-up bartender as soon as he turned 22, since the bar didn’t like just newly of age people in charge of bartending. He worked for Isabelle running weekend errands. And he reconnected with his band…and several of the guys who he’d taken Stage Combat with.  Including the one who’d made Blaine so pissed off when Kurt had gone skins that one day right after he’d been cleared to go back to class after he’d been bashed.

Brock was fun and handsome and built and made Kurt’s toes curl with his kisses. He had run off frantically worried to Elliot when he realized he was interested in dating Brock, because unlike Adam, Brock wasn’t someone he could see himself with in 15 years or 20 years.  Elliot chuckled and explained to Kurt that this was more the normal than the not normal and it was just fine to date and have fun without planning on forever the whole time, as long as all parties were on the same page. It was rather a new experience for Kurt, asking about relationship goals and definitions before he started seeing someone.  He found he liked it…and that he understood what Adam had been trying to get him to do way back when.  It made it easy to be with Brock understanding that Brock was in no way looking for a long term thing, too much of Brock’s own life was up in the air at the time for him to be thinking relationships long term. Two months later and Kurt was outright confused about why he never considered just casual dating to start off with, other than he lived in Ohio and had NOONE as an option. A conversation with his dad about his dating habits before he met his mother confirmed in Kurt the notion that this was actually more normal than not.

Brock was waiting for him at Brock’s apartment and Kurt was running a few moments late due to a late train and the call with his dad.  Brock had told Kurt to just head up and that the door would be open for him.

Kurt walked into Brock’s place and was surrounded by Christmas…trees and ribbons and music and candles and lights.  In the middle of the room, lit by a fake fireplace and Christmas tree lights sat Brock…naked except for white tube socks with red stripes and a stocking sitting in his lap hiding his ‘dangly’ parts from view.  Kurt’s eyes traveled over the rest of the man’s gorgeous figure which was displayed for Kurt’s pleasure.

“You are overdressed.” Brock said.

Kurt laughed and started to strip down.  As soon as he was in his boxers, Brock told his to wait a bit longer and to come over to sit by him.

Brock moved the stocking to Kurt’s lap.

“I know you said you aren’t planning on much in the way of decoration at the loft, but you need a stocking.  So I got you one.” Brock said.

Kurt looked at the stocking in his hands.  There was a pocket that said ‘Letter to Santa’ on it and several golden snowflakes were embroidered on the front.  Tucked into the pocket was a silver snowflake ornament.  The stocking was heavy, though and Kurt looked at Brock to see if he could explore further.

“Go ahead and look inside. My grandmother once said it was bad luck to give an empty stocking…when she brought us new ones, she always filled them with nuts and fruit.”

Kurt dumped the stocking out into his lap.  It was so not filled with fruit and nuts.  The filling was more along the lines of toys for good…or naughty…boys.  

With a laugh he looked up and pulled Brock into a deep kiss.

“How long till dinner?” Kurt asked.

“Dinner is small sandwiches on rolls and soup, which is in a crock-pot on low …As long as we want.”

They did get around to dinner…a bit before midnight, after putting a great many of Kurt’s new toys to use first.

Authors note: Drabbles and Drawbles for Advent is a livejournal/insane jounal/dreamwhatever group that has been running their fest for 10 years now.  It is mostly Harry Potter fandom, but always has a smattering of others and has some brilliant writers who write for it.

[geekmama]

Resolved

Chapter 2; Opportunities for Community Service

Molly was still enjoying the sleep of the justly exhausted when Sherlock was ready to depart for the Diogenes Club to see his brother the next morning.

She’d stirred slightly when he’d disentangled himself from her embrace, but a kiss and soft words had reassured her, and he’d tucked her up warmly before he’d left the room to attend to his morning ablutions. By the time he returned to dress, she was once more deep in slumber, and there she remained when he was ready to depart. He paused, and smiled crookedly to see her there, huddled beneath the bedclothes, with only some of her mussed but beautiful auburn hair partially visible. He became aware of an odd feeling in his breast. Amazement? Pride? Contentment? Maybe all those things and more --something akin to what he had felt as a young boy, perhaps, when he would run and shout for the pure joy of living.

Molly had given that back to him.

He was no longer a boy, though, and there was a time and place for everything. So he took a deep breath, blew her a silent kiss, and went out to greet the day.

Archie was sitting on the bottom step as he descended to the hall, but the boy jumped up and whipped off his cap.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes! You have some errands for me?”

“Indeed, Archie. I have two messages for you to deliver, a shopping list, and money to complete the required purchases. There should be enough left over to treat yourself to a pie or sweets of some kind, and you can keep the remainder as a token of my gratitude. I am going out this morning but I should be back by noon. Presumably you can complete those tasks and return in time for our midday repast. I may have additional work for you this afternoon, depending on what my brother has to say to me.”

“Thank you, sir!” said Archie, with a quick bow and, without more ado, took himself off.

Sherlock followed him out of the house at a more sedate pace, thankful that Mrs. Hudson did not emerge from her flat to quiz him about… well, anything, really. She had a very sharp eye for an elderly woman, and a sharp wit, too. He knew she was genuinely fond of him, but her raillery could wait until they all sat down to lunch and a glass or two of wine. Then, too, Molly would be there to draw her fire -- though Molly seemed always to bring out the landlady’s gentler side.

Molly brought out his own gentler side, too, though he wouldn’t have thought until recently that he actually had one. But there it was: shot through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt shaft. Yet he felt quite certain he was still a man to encounter Tybalt -- or any other rogue that could be brought to justice by one at the height of his strength and deductive powers. If anything, marriage had thoroughly roused the instinct to protect what was his. And she was his -- just as he was hers. Their every encounter in the bedroom seemed to strengthen that bond. It wasn’t merely the act itself. It was the caring and honesty replete in every moment, their hearts stripped bare along with their bodies.

Mycroft had always warned him about the danger of caring too much. Mycroft wasn’t wrong, but Sherlock had begun to feel he’d only been half-alive before surrendering to the enchantment of love. Of loving, and being loved in return.

All these thoughts were with him on the cab ride to the Diogenes Club, and when he entered Mycroft’s office it was evident that they were still writ large upon his countenance, at least to his discerning brother.

Mycroft greeted him with a sardonic smile. “Well, I see married life agrees with you. Welcome back to reality, brother mine.”

Sherlock laughed, but did not dispute the point. “A reality that now features the woman I am privileged to call my wife is a happy one indeed.”

Mycroft’s brows rose slightly. “You have changed your tune, haven’t you? Well, well. As I believe I said seven weeks ago, I wish you joy. Both of you!”

“Thank you, on both our behalves. And I believe I must thank you for the wedding gift as well. A kitchen and a French chef: really, Mycroft, you couldn’t think of something a trifle more extravagant?”

“Well, I could have, but nothing that would so perfectly serve my own interests.You’re pleased then? Alphonse was trained  at Le Cordon Bleu, but was something of a loose cannon. He acquired a reputation for being difficult and couldn’t get a reference, nor any work that was worthy of his skill, so he came over here. Hopefully he won’t give you any trouble.”

“I believe we’ve made a start at coming to an understanding. And he is an excellent cook. You should come to dinner tonight and see for yourself.”

Mycroft looked a little surprised. “Thank you. I’m afraid duty calls tonight however: a reception at the Russian Embassy that I must attend, However, another time the invitation will be most welcome.”

“Ah. Molly will be disappointed.”

“Will she? Please give my dear sister-in-law my regards, and tell her I will wait upon her soon. And now, what else can I do for you this morning, Sherlock? You aren’t bored already?.”

“Not at all. Just picking up old threads. I’ve sent a message round to Lestrade that I’m once again available, and if you have anything going, I might lend a hand by way of thanks. You’ve done a great deal for us these last months. But I beg you will consider that Molly won’t begin her new term at the medical school for two more weeks.”

“And you wish to enjoy her unfettered companionship as much as possible before she is consumed with her studies?” Mycroft’s expression was surprisingly free of mockery. “You are a fortunate man, I believe.. And as it happens, I might have something that might suit the two of you. A short jaunt out of town to a pleasant seaside resort. Almost another honeymoon destination, though admittedly the atmosphere is not quite on a par with that of Italy.”

“ Which seaside resort?” Sherlock demanded, fearing the worst.

“Blackpool, I’m afraid.” Mycroft’s lips quirked at Sherlock’s groan. “Indeed, you see why I do not attempt to complete the errand myself. Not only legwork , but people -- and so many of them, too . I really couldn’t. But the mission may be completed quickly, if you don’t wish to linger, and there is little likelihood of danger or mishap. An ideal assignment for a newlywed couple, in fact.”

Sherlock glared a bit. “I suppose you saved this for my return.”

“I may have done,” Mycroft said, an amused glint in his eye. “But really, you have to admit that Molly, at least, will be charmed.”

  *

  Molly was charmed. Ordinarily Sherlock would have been both annoyed and bored beyond permission, and the fact that he was neither was entirely due to Molly’s unabashed enthusiasm for every aspect of their new “adventure”.

Their second evening at Baker Street saw them sitting down to another extraordinary dinner, courtesy of Alphonse, this time attended by the Watsons as well as Mrs. Hudson and Archie. Over a really excellent bisque de homard, Sherlock announced that he and Molly would be off to Blackpool on the morrow to transact some business for the British government.

Mrs. Hudson nearly choked. “But you’ve only just returned!” she protested.

“True, but there’s nothing for it. Mycroft sent word an hour ago that everything is arranged: first class accommodations on the train, a suite at a decent hotel, a stipend to cover the cost of meals and such souvenirs as Molly will be unable to resist -- I believe I saw the inside of every shop in Rome and Florence these last weeks.” He smirked at his wife’s obvious chagrin, and added, “He’s sending a cab to take us to the station at ten o’clock tomorrow.”

Molly said, “You know I tried to limit my spending, and it was you who insisted on buying the pearl set, and this.” She gestured to the very fine brooch at her throat, hand-painted roses on enamel, surrounded by a delicate gold filigree. “But how kind of Mycroft to give us such a treat!”

But John raised his brows. “Blackpool?” he asked, barely stifling a chuckle.

Sherlock gave him a quelling look. “I’m sure it will be fine. We should be back in a very few days, in any case.”

“And Molly will enjoy it excessively,” Mary said. “The sea air, walks on the beach, the aquarium, the new Tower, and dancing in the evenings. How I envy you!”

Sherlock had been skeptical of Mary’s cheery predictions, but in the event they all came to pass. Seeing Blackpool through his bride’s innocent eyes made the garish surroundings and teeming masses of holiday-goers tolerable -- even amusing much of the time. They were away five days, two devoted mostly to travel, two to seaside fun in exceptionally clement weather, and one in which it poured rain and they stayed abed nearly all the day. The four evenings they were in town were devoted to some surprisingly excellent dining, theatre-going, and dancing, after which they would retire to their well-appointed suite at the Clifton Hotel in Talbot Square, by the North Pier, and be blessedly, completely alone. There was no need to rise early, so they enjoyed a delicious breakfast in bed each morning, in every sense of the phrase. And Mycroft’s assignment merely consisted of contacting one of his agents -- a stout grey-haired female who sold parasols and gathered gossip from one of the many booths on the strand -- to receive a detailed report on some crime syndicate that was beginning to gain a foothold in the town.

It was almost with regret that Sherlock and Molly bid Blackpool adieu on the fifth day and boarded the train that would return them to London. They sat side by side in their large private compartment, watching the green countryside move past, and when Molly, replete with contentment, presently dozed off, leaning against his shoulder, Sherlock found himself realizing that he had rarely felt happier in his life.

  *

  The next morning, however, a shadow crept over Molly’s contentment.

Returning from the toilet as dawn crept into their bedroom, Molly slipped into bed and curled close, her aspect subdued. “I… I’ve… um… it’s that time of the month for me, I’m afraid,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned and failing miserably.

Sherlock frowned and slid down, repositioning himself so that he could lay a warm hand upon her abdomen, well aware that, even discounting the previous month, when they were in Venice, she always found menstruation a trial for the first day or two. “Are you in much pain? A small dose of laudanum--”

“Oh, no!” she broke in. “I… I dislike it so very much. And I don’t want to be half asleep all day. Mary and I are to meet for lunch at the Holborn.”

“Very well. But if I find you martyring yourself for no good reason--”

“I won’t! It… I don’t think it will be as bad as it was last month.”

“No, indeed.”

In Venice, Sherlock had felt that a doctor should be summoned, Molly seemed to be suffering so. The man’s diagnosis -- “... it is perhaps a miscarriage, but not to worry, there’s little danger from what you tell me, she can’t be very far along …” --  had shocked Sherlock to the bone, and Molly had wept as though her heart were breaking until the doctor’s prescribed draft had pulled her under, immersing her in restful, healing sleep. Physically, she recovered within a few days, and their remaining time in Venice had been quite enjoyable, but a cloud had hung over her spirits until they moved onto Milan and intimate relations were resumed, though he put firm limits on their activities until the full fortnight of abstinence the doctor had recommended was complete -- much to Molly’s indignation.

From that first night at the Savoy, she’d seemed to enjoy sexual congress as much as he did himself.

And she wanted a child. His child.

Sherlock, however, was ambivalent about the prospect of offspring, and he had a (thus far hidden but all too real) dread at the thought of inflicting upon his beloved young wife the pain and risks associated with childbirth.  He realized that the event was probably inevitable, and soon, considering their mutual enthusiasm in the bedroom, but on this morning he could not help thinking it was all to the good that she would at least begin the fall term at the medical school unencumbered by pregnancy.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of saying as much.

She lay very still, looking at him, biting her lip. And then she blurted, “Sherlock… don’t you want us to have a child?”

“Did I say that?” he said, with a pretense of strong resentment.

“No! I’m… Forgive me. I just find it so disappointing myself that… well.”

Sherlock drew her against him and she clung to him, rather stiffly, trying not to give in to tears. “Sweetheart,” he said quietly, “you’ve plenty of time for that. And excessive anxiety will only hinder the process -- I have it on good authority.”

He felt her smile. “John and Mary?” she asked.

“Precisely. Watson says that it wasn’t until they both stopped worrying about it that they achieved a favorable outcome.”

“Mary told me before we left for Blackpool that she suspects that Rosamund may have a little brother or sister in eight months. Don’t tell John, though -- she wants to wait just a little longer. She told me she miscarried twice before she was able to carry Rosamund to term.”

“Mmm. I won’t say anything. But you must promise me you will put the notion out of your head for now, as far as Baby Holmes is concerned. Enjoy your experience at school, and your studies!”

“And my beloved husband, again, in a few days,” she said, making an effort to sound impishly cheerful.

He smiled, and slid his hand down to caress her lovely, round backside. “You know, there are any number of things we can do right now, provided you are so inclined. I’m not at all squeamish about a little blood, and studies have shown that orgasm can be an aid in the relief of menstrual cramps.”

“Really? They’ve done studies on such things?”

“I know I read it somewhere. But perhaps we should do what we can to confirm their findings. In a spirit of scientific enquiry.”

She chuckled at having her own phraseology tossed back at her, and moved, raising her lips to his and saying huskily, “Yes, please, Mr. Holmes,” before she kissed him.

  *

  Molly started the fall term at the London School of Medicine for Women a week later and happily settled into her studies. But within the first few days, her interest was increased tenfold by the announcement that all third year students would be required to participate in community service.

“And where do they have you going? You are supervised, are you not?” asked Sherlock over one of Alphonse’s simpler, yet still excellent repasts one evening. Archie was dining with the family of a friend, and Mrs. Hudson had traveled into Devon to visit her sister, so it was just the two of them sitting at the small dining table in their own flat, a cheerful fire burning in the grate and thick fog closing in outside, increasing the sense of seclusion.

“Oh, yes. There is an advisor and often other students from my class. We’ve been assigned to the Brooks-Henley Institution for Girls -- they are most of them orphans, but there are some who are placed there because of difficult situations at home. And we married ladies are able to go also to the Magdalene Hospital.”

“Really?” said Sherlock, lifting a brow. “And how do you find that?”

Molly grimaced. “Rather dreadful, as a woman. There, but for the grace of God…. But as a medical student, I find it quite fascinating, and I am very happy to be able to aid those poor women in some small way. I was able to witness a birth yesterday.”

“Did you?” Sherlock said, too blandly.

Molly smiled. “It was most interesting, and my advisor told us that it was quite an easy birth, too. It did not seem that way to me, but I daresay I’ll get used to such things. They gave the mother a little chloroform at the end, just as the queen had with her eighth child, which made the last of it go much more smoothly and quietly. But the poor thing was only fifteen years of age -- it’s not surprising she was terrified, and unable to bear the pain with any kind of stoicism.” Molly took another bite of Poulet à la Provençale, then frowned at Sherlock, who looked a little disturbed, and even rather pale. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he said, and visibly rallied, with the help of a big sip of wine.

But it was noticeable that he asked no more questions about the Magdalene Hospital or the Institution, at least at that time, and she did not share with him that she had actually been assigned a third venue for community service, and one that she quite naturally, if reprehensibly, found to be the most interesting of all: Madame Celeste’s in Bennet Street, off St. James’.

[coruscorp-blog]

DEAR, MR. ( ALISTAIR LEE )

We are pleased to have you back for another year as an UPPER FIRST YEAR STUDENT at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We sincerely hope your classmates in HUFFLEPUFF treat you well.

there were many who had the last name ‘lee’ originating from southeast asia but this lee family is different among the rest.

they were witches and wizards, after all. and a long line of witches and wizards at that. while the bloodline wasn’t a hundred percent pure (great uncle rupert was the first to have fallen in love with a muggle who was a british actress with a ‘smoking hot bod’, according to alistair’s father. he wasn’t sure what ‘smoking hot bod’ meant, at the age of seven and his mother smacked his father on the back of his head upon hearing her husband say those words) and there were muggleborns and muggles alike, magic always stayed in the blood.

so it was no surprise when alistair, sixth among his generation, received his hogwarts acceptance letter. maybe it was the sheer awe he felt at that time but alistair swore that the magic could be felt once the pads of his fingers traced over the paper, the texture sending tingles down his spine as he read the words by himself.

he had just gotten back from helping his father clean out his tools and running an errand for his mother (she needed some chicken for supper) when he saw the letter right in front of their doorstep. and at that moment reading it, he could remember all the stories that his parents had told him about their family. mostly, of his great great grandfather barnaby john lee (korean name lee taegoon), one of the greatest seers in the wizarding world.

great great grandfather barnaby john, got his first hogwarts letter at the age of eleven. his parents were immigrants from south korea who served an english wizarding family around that time. he didn’t know much about magic, as his parents hid the fact that they were able to wield it from their employer. through playing with their employer’s children, he learned that it was common to receive it at the age of eleven but not many could anticipate the exact time the owls from hogwarts would deliver it. he did. and at that time, he simply thought it was intuition and believed it was so until he started at hogwarts and learned to harness his gift.

at that time when he was still a student, divination wasn’t a subject at hogwarts yet. and seers were far and few. many ridiculed young barnaby john for his predictions using tarot cards but it wasn’t until a student died in the forbidden forest due to an attack of an unidentified beast (it was later discovered that it was a wolf) did they believe him. but still, children would rarely spend time around him which led to him at that time, cassandra trelawney (great great grandmother of sybill trelawney who taught divination to the newer generations) also attended hogwarts. through this accident, the both of them became good friends. (she was also the person to teach him proper english at that time)

while cassandra was known as a renowned seer, barnaby john liked to work in the sidelines. it’s why not one historical book or person knew of his name. he wanted the art of divination to be a well known practice and for children who possess the gift to learn how to harness it. once he had finished hogwarts, he made this his goal after buying his parents the large country mansion (with the help of cassandra) that the newer lee family generation now call home. however, upon buying the mansion his visions showed him another picture.

these were of muggles who possessed the gift of magic who were cast away by their parents. wizards who did no have a home to call who only knew of hogwarts. he began to read misfortune in his cards and eventually they visited his dreams. he even predicted the death of his parents.

the toll this took on him was great and he locked himself in the mansion for years. his neighbors thought of him as a mad man who was seen talking to himself while he sat on his patio. had it not been for his friends from hogwarts who were concerned for him due to him not writing back for years, he would have died that way in his mansion.

with their help, he picked up where he left off, offering the mansion as a place to stay for lost witches and wizards. they came in all ethnicities and backgrounds, some rather suspicious than most. but the rules he set for the house were simple: treat everyone as family and clean up after yourselves. he came to care for each individual that stepped on his doorstep no matter how little time they spent there, may it be just for the night or a few hours for lunch. through this, he also met his wife.

he passed down the legacy to their family, the mansion becoming a safe haven for all. he used his visions and readings to help save others, travelling throughout the globe until the day he died at the ripe age of a hundred and thirty on his patio, sitting on his rocking chair as he watched the sunset.

years and years after his death, the divinus haruspex association of clairvoyance honored him alongside his good friend cassandra upon their formation, using his legacy as an inspiration to do good for the world.

using his great great grandfather’s life as inspiration, the eleven year old alistair proudly proclaimed that he had received his acceptance letter to his parents. and sure enough, he was off on hogwarts express to the best school of witchcraft and wizardry with his heart full of hope.

on his third year, alistair was so sure that he would ace divination. it was in his blood after all, being a pureblood and barnaby john’s descendant, but he quickly learned that the art of divination was no easy feat. he showed no signs of excelling and harnessing the gift of sight. this, of course, brought his spirits down but he was determined not to give up. even after he finished his divination class in his third year, he would always practice by himself. he had every device that could be used for the art: tarot cards (a birthday gift upon his acceptance at hogwarts), a scrying mirror (another gift from one of the former visitors at the mansion whose name he conveniently forgot), tea leaves and even chinese fortune sticks. on nights when the sky was decorated in stars, he tried as well to see if the gift will help him understand the movement of the stars and planets to no avail.

up until this day, alistair struggled. he had better luck at palm reading one time in his sixth year, actually being able to sit for three minutes explaining to another hufflepuff what her future might bring. yet once he snapped out of it, he had no recollection of how he did it, only seeing her look at him in terror. the act did not repeat itself, however, no matter how many palms he read.

now in his first upper year, alistair is known to be the friendly yet odd hufflepuff who liked to ask first years to see him after supper in the common room. he’s also known to be the one to possess the legendary serial killer laugh heard in muggle movies all the way up to the ravenclaw towers. also known by his peers as someone who doesn’t really know social boundaries, he will most likely give a slytherin a hug while watching a quidditch match where hufflepuff wins (if ever) or jump in a conversation he only heard the last two words about. all in all, he’s a rather funny guy who sees the good in every person. while it’s uncertain if he did inherit his grandfather’s gift, it’s clear that he inherited his grandfather’s kindness and ability to empathize. which, if you ask victoria lee, his mother, it’s more than one can ever ask for from their little wizard (her words).

[samuelfields]

What Does Early Retirement Feel Like? The Positives And Negatives Of Not Working For A Living

Financial independence and retirement are used interchangeably, but there are some subtle differences. Financial independence is usually applicable to people across their entire lifespan. Those who cashed out $5 million dollars worth of Facebook stock at the age of 30 are financially independent just like those who saved $5 million in their retirement funds by the age of 65.

Retirement, on the other hand, is a term often used to describe someone in the last quarter of their lives e.g. ages 65 and up. This is why some folks get so hot and bothered if you aren’t in the upper ages but say you are retired. They don’t think you deserve retirement because you’re not old enough! If you don’t want unwanted attention as an early retiree, just say you are unemployed, on sabbatical, or an entrepreneur.

The reality is all of us would rather be financially independent earlier, so we have more time to enjoy our wealth. When the director of admissions at UC Berkeley asked why I was applying so early (25), I told her it was because I knew what I wanted to do and felt it best to leverage an MBA degree sooner, for a longer period of time. Little did I know I’d be done 10 years later.

Although I’m no longer considered an early retiree due to the endless hours it takes being a full-time dad and maintaining this website, I did have at least one year of early retirement life after 2012 where I was completely carefree. For those curious about what early retirement feels like, I’m going to highlight all the positives and negatives I can think of since leaving the workforce in 2012.

The Positives Of Early Retirement

* No longer having to commute in traffic feels like heaven. It’s funny that not riding the bus was the first positive that came to mind as opposed to workplace politics, stress, or more common answers. I used to leave the house around 7:20am every morning to catch the 7:23am bus around the corner. Despite my punctuality, the bus would either not arrive on time or be so full of people I’d have to walk another 5 blocks just to get on. Now when I see folks crammed in buses I can’t help but smile.

* Running errands is easy. I do all my errands around 10:45am or 2:30pm, because that is when most people are still at work. There’s no traffic or lines at the store during these hours and I’m much more efficient in getting things done. I continue to wonder why everybody wants to come to work at 8am and leave at 5pm. It took me 1.5 hours to drive 20 miles to pick up my parents at Oakland Airport due to traffic the other month. It only takes 35 minutes during off peak hours. Come into work earlier and leave a little earlier. Your stress level will go way down.

* Lots of free entertainment. There is an incredible amount of free entertainment during the week. Part of it is because organizations want to show their community support and free access on weekdays provides the lowest amount of damage to their bottom lines. Museums that cost $15-$20 to enter are usually free at least once a month. There are also free cooking classes by Williams Sonoma, free interior design parties by AirBnb, free rock climbing lessons by REI, and so on. There are always free music festivals at various public parks as well here in SF.

* You learn to become more self-sufficient. When I was busy working, I didn’t have time to figure out how to fix the leaky toilet. I would call the plumber and pay him $150-$250 at a time. Nowadays, I simply search on YouTube for a home maintenance tutorial and voila! Call me handyman Sam. If I can’t fix something I’ll chat up the local hardware store attendee and see if he can tell me what’s wrong. Having a smartphone to videotape the issues helps tremendously. Learning how to do things myself has also saved me a lot of time and money on rental property maintenance.

* Better nightlife. Because I used to start work by 7:30am every morning for the past 10 years, I was tired by 10pm. I just wanted to stay in and watch some TV after work. Now I’m always down to go out for dinner or drinks with friends during the weekdays. I’ve attended multiple events that last until 11pm and am ecstatic to not have to go to work the next day.

* Better friendships. I spend more time cultivating my offline relationships now that I don’t work. Those thin relationships one has on Facebook become stronger as you actually send them personal messages to see what’s up and hang out. The more you go out, the more friends you’ll meet. This is especially helpful for single folks. Social integration is vital for happiness.

* Better family relationships. I spend much more time speaking to and visiting my family now that I have more time. Spending more time with family is probably the most rewarding part about retirement. The younger you are, the more you appreciate it because you likely have more family still around. While I was working, literally months would go by where I didn’t interact with my parents because I was too busy.

* More comprehensive posts. Good posts can take a long time to write. But with so much more time now, I can afford to write meatier content that can help more folks. Meatier content also tends to do better in the search engines, bringing in more traffic, and more revenue. In the past, I’d write 750 word posts. Now I’m able to spend more time researching to produce posts that are double in length on average.

* More purpose in life. Most people I know don’t believe their purpose in life is to do whatever they do at their jobs. Plenty of folks start getting depressed when they talk about spending all their time at a job that doesn’t really make a positive impact. They see a job as a stepping stone for something greater and can’t wait to get out. Once you no longer have to work for a living, you hone in on exactly what you want to do that provides meaning.

* In better shape. Without having to sit in a chair for hours at a time, you’ll naturally burn more calories being more active. At 5’10”, I used to struggle maintaining a weight of ~165 lbs, now it requires less effort because I now play tennis, bike, walk, or hike at least three times a week compared to just once or twice a week while working. Being in better shape feels great. It might even extend your life, who knows!

* You can always keep busy. One of the biggest fears working people have before retirement is figuring out what they are going to do with all their free time. I worried how I was going to go from working 70 hours a week to just writing for 20 hours a week and playing sports in the afternoon. If you have a hobby you are passionate about, you don’t have to worry about not being able to fill the void in retirement. There is an endless amount of things to do.

* No fear of getting fired. No employee is ever safe in this hyper competitive world. You could be a star performer, but if your new boss hates you for whatever reason, you’re done. I used to worry about whether I’d be called into the HR’s office due to a recession, underperformance, complaint, error on my expense report, etc. Now there is no worry.

* A more positive disposition. Do you know that smile you get after carving down a black diamond or riding a jet ski over some waves? You will catch yourself smiling without even knowing because people will randomly smile back at you because you’re smiling at them. Smiling when you don’t even know it is probably the #1 outward signal for true happiness.

* The ability to be present with your kids. Our baby boy is the most precious thing in the world and has crystalized the value of early retirement. Before our son was born, it was nice to travel, sleep in, play sports, and write. But now, I’m excited each morning to give my son a hug and play with him for hours. Every day we thank our lucky stars that we get to spend the critical first five years of his life raising him before kindergarten. They grow up so fast!

The Negatives Of Early Retirement

* Become more impatient with delays and waste. Traffic and long lunch lines used to annoy me, but now they really annoy me because I hardly ever experience them anymore. I get annoyed with myself for going anywhere during peak rush hour. I really try not to meet anybody if I have to commute during the hours of 7am-10am and 4pm-7pm. I have to remind myself when it’s bumper to bumper thank goodness I no longer have to deal with such jams on a regular basis. 

* Gets lonely sometimes. While your friends and acquaintances are busy working, you’re sometimes busy doing nothing. If you don’t have a partner or family, then you might end up having breakfast, lunch, and dinner alone. I’ve built a small network of work-from-home, unemployed, or work at night friends to play tennis and hang out with. I’m trying to meet more people through a softball meetup that I’ve joined, but I haven’t met anybody I’d like to hang out with so far. It’s easy to feel disconnected if you’re always working from home.

* Easy to get lazy. Before my son was born, I found myself taking hour long naps after lunch, watching too much sports on TV, and chilling in the hot tub for hours. It takes a lot more discipline once you’ve retired to push yourself to do something meaningful because nobody is telling you what to do.

* Potentially less money. This one is obvious, but maybe not. You only voluntarily retire and stay retired if you have enough money to support your desired lifestyle. It’s a different situation if you are forced into retirement. It did sting a little bit to no longer have a healthy W2 income the first six months. However, just like how we adapt quickly to a nice bonus or raise, we also adapt quickly to a loss of income. The fear of running out of money in retirement is overblown.

* Vacations aren’t as exciting anymore. I used to love taking five to six weeks of vacation every year. If my old job could grant 10 weeks of vacation a year, I would have stayed on for at least another five years. Now that we can go on vacation 365 days a year, it’s just not that exciting anymore. We did travel for 6-8 weeks between 2012 – 2016, but by the end of 2016 we were completely traveled out. All the churches in Europe started looking the same.

Other Observations After Retirement

* Spend less time on social media. I spend probably 50% less time on Twitter than when I was working. Perhaps it’s because Twitter was a great way to pass the time during commutes or in between meetings. I also continue to spend very little time on Facebook except for my tennis team group page.

* Know a lot of unemployed people. No matter what time during the day I go out between Monday and Friday, there are tons of people out on the street or hanging out at the tennis courts. When you’re working, you think everybody is holed up in an office building and only comes out during lunch or when the clock strikes 5pm. In reality, plenty of people are unemployed or have flexible work schedules.

* Discover so many different ways to live. When I was working I just figured most people just had a normal 8am – 5pm day job. But during my time away from work I’ve met dog walkers, nannies, professional athletes, teachers during summer vacations, government employees who retired early with great pensions, bartenders, strippers, bouncers, tennis teachers, coffee shop owners, small business owners, and plenty of online entrepreneurs who enjoy a lot of freedom during the day. Related: Abolish Welfare Mentality: A Janitor Makes $271,000 A Year

* No desire to play golf. The cliché is that once guys retire we end up playing golf all day. I thought I would love to play at least once a week with all my free time, but instead, I found the game to be absolutely boring when I had to play it alone or with strangers. Further, the game takes way too long.

* Feel inspired by older workers. Every time I go grocery shopping, I bump into cashiers and baggers who are over 60 years old. They probably only make around $13 an hour. Their hard work inspires me to not take things for granted and keep this site going. Everybody starts off with different opportunities in life. We’ve got to make the most of what we’ve got.

* Just want to feel useful. If I don’t feel useful to someone, I feel like a loser. Hence, I try and stay busy writing online, volunteering as a foster kid mentor, doing work around the house, and coaching high school tennis while I’m not taking care of my baby boy. Retirement takes away that good feeling of having someone depending on you for guidance.

* Constantly wonder what else is there in life. When I was busy working, I didn’t have much time left to think about philosophy. With so much more free time I sometimes think, is this all there is to life? Starting Financial Samurai has given me a strong sense of purpose. I recommend all retirees start their own site as well to find their tribe online.

* It gets harder to stay retired over time. The first six months of retirement were full of excitement, fear, and joy. As time went on, I adapted to my newfound freedom by creating a routine that best suited my desires. Once I mastered my routine life got incredibly easy. When life gets easy, life also begins to get boring. With such a strong economy since 2012, I couldn’t help be do some consulting with several fintech companies and see if I could build Financial Samurai into something larger. See: Staying Retired Is Impossible Once You Retire Early

* You need much less money than you think to be happy. My biggest surprise since leaving my day job is realizing how much less I need to be happy by about 30% – 50%. One of the reasons is that once you’re retired, you no longer have to save for retirement. It feels foreign to spend 100% of your retirement income or passive income, but that’s what you get to do if you truly have enough. Further, you are so much happier in retirement that you don’t need to spend a lot of money to make you happy.

Early Retirement Is So Worth It

There are studies that show death comes quicker after retirement due to a lack of purpose. With the internet and so much good we can do once we have our free time back, I can’t see how anybody would ever feel permanently lost in retirement. Try volunteering at a charity or mentoring a child if you start feeling aimless. Everybody could use a helping hand.

Retiring early is a blessing because our bodies still allow us to climb the steepest Mayan steps and start the most daunting businesses when we still have the energy. Hopefully this post gives you some inspiration to get up a little earlier, save more money, and take calculated risks to retire early as well. The feeling of being able to do whatever you want is priceless.

Related:

The Dark Side Of Early Retirement

How Much Do I Need To Save To Retire Early?

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[enzaime-blog]

I’ll See You in the Morning by Michaela B. Rosen

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/ill-see-morning-michaela-b-rosen/

I’ll See You in the Morning by Michaela B. Rosen

*Tears were shed in the writing of this post*

“Good night. I love you. Sleep well. Have pleasant dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” That is what I hear every night from my mom before I go to bed.

Bad things happen to good people. That is something everyone unfortunately learns at some point in his or her life. It is how you react, how you grow, and what you learn from those bad things, which define you as a person. The bad thing in my life is my mom’s cancer diagnosis. In the past five years since her original diagnosis with cancer, I have evolved as a person. I have reacted, grown, and learned.

I keep a lot in. I know my dad and brother do as well. I feel an obligation to be strong. After all, I am not the one going through treatment. Family members of loved ones living with cancer, especially the immediate family, have many emotions and inner struggles they do not reveal. It might be difficult to swallow some of this post, but I ask you to place yourself in my shoes.

I was with my mom when she was diagnosed with cancer. I was fifteen. I remember her calling my dad and telling him, but the rest of that day is a blur. I remember watching TV, but not actually watching TV. I remember my mom saying not to cry yet; we don’t know what stage the cancer is. I remember my mom typing an email to her family, pushing her chair back, looking at me and crying, “I don’t want to go through this.” That was the first time I hugged my mom while she cried about cancer.

My sophomore year of high school was a roller coaster. High school is a roller coaster by itself and adding on my mom being sick was a lot for me to handle.

I sobbed when my dad shaved my mom’s hair. I get my curls from her.

I cried when no one was around. Would my mom see me get my driver’s license? Go to prom? Get accepted to college? Graduate high school? Those questions sent me spiraling into tears.

I pushed friends away. They did not understand what I was dealing with.

I threw myself into my academics. That was one thing my parents did not have to worry about.

During the years my mom was cancer free, my mom truly became my best friend. We tell each other absolutely everything. We are open with each other. We are honest with each other. We gossip together. During those years, I got my license, went to prom, got into GW, and graduated in the top of my class. And my mom saw it all.

The worst fear of someone whose loved one has cancer is there will be a reoccurrence.

After only a few weeks of moving to DC and attending GW, my mom texted me saying to call her. My mom took a deep breath and told me the cancer returned. I felt my entire eighteen-year-old body crumble as I sank to the floor. I started crying. I was in shock. I asked what stage the cancer was; she said stage IV. I knew what stage IV meant… no cure with an average life expectancy of 26 months. I was sobbing. I heard my dad telling me it would be ok, I did not need to come home, and he would take of my mom. I wanted to be home so bad. My mom was always on mind. I learned the best place to cry in college is in the shower, or when your roommate(s) are not in the room or sleeping. My emotions were all over the place. I cried that my mom might not see me graduate, she probably will not see me get married, and she probably will not spoil her grandchildren at Disney World.

My freshman year I truly reacted, grew, and learned from a really bad thing.

This last year, my sophomore year, I was in a great place. Academically I was excelling, I had amazing internships, and I ran around DC with my incredible friends. They make me laugh and smile, but also know I have my days. Even when I cannot explain what I am going through, they still love me through it all. They are my shoulders to cry on. And those tears keep on coming. I still worry. I still cry. I call my mom a lot while at school and if it is not a call, it is a text. Like I said before, my mom is my best friend and I cannot imagine a day where I cannot talk to her.

As much as I would love to have stayed in DC this summer or have gone to New York for an internship, I am content being home with my mom. Sometimes I feel like a mom. Driving my mom to Dana-Farber or just to run errands, picking my brother up at school, getting lunch together for my mom, or hugging my mom when she cries; simply put, being a caregiver. Time with my mom is precious. I enjoy just sitting on the couch a foot away from her while she sleeps (exhausted from the chemo). Some mornings I climb into bed with my mom and Wally and we just talk. When my mom feels well we both enjoy a little retail therapy. I have learned to enjoy the little things with my mom. (The big things, like our upcoming vacation, do not hurt either!)

During the moments when reality hits, it really hurts. My mom is going to die from this disease and we do not know how much time she has. Her last treatment stopped working and she is back on chemotherapy. My family does not know how she will respond this time or if it is going to work. I am doing my best to be there for my dad and brother. When people ask me how I am doing, I shrug and say fine, but truthfully I am scared and I hate how this is happening to my family.

I get sad when I think of planning my wedding or raising children without my own mom. Reality hurts. The silver linings help. I get to have the strongest relationship with my mom, we get to travel together, and we say I love you a little more. I get to promise her everyone will celebrate her life. We really do live, laugh, and love everyday.

Every night I get to say, “Good night” and “I love you” to my mom. To which she responds, “Good night. I love you. Sleep well. Have pleasant dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.”

I cannot imagine a night where we cannot say, “I love you” or a morning when I wake up and my mom does not.

[troyagublg]

Strategies Regarding How To Get Good Car Insurance Rates

When you are searching for automobile insurance, make sure to shop around and have several quotes. Getting quotes is much simpler nowadays with the use of the world wide web. Whether you will have a perfect driving history or possibly a few blemishes, you can easily get quotes online. Shopping around is among the easiest ways to economize in your car insurance.

When thinking about vehicle insurance, remember to look for your available discounts. Did you attend college? That may mean a reduction. Do you have a car alarm? Another discount could be available. Be sure you ask your agent regarding what discounts can be found so that you can benefit from the saving money!

Make best use of any discounts your insurance company offers. When you get a new security device, make sure to inform your insurance broker. You could very well qualify for a deduction. If you take a defensive driving course, make sure to let your agent know. It could help you save money. Should you be taking classes, check if your car or truck insurance firm provides a student discount.

You save money on your car insurance when you are in the position to drop collision coverage. You could consider doing so in case your vehicle is paid off and if you have enough in savings to protect the car’s replacement cost. The price of older cars drops dramatically, of course, if you’re willing to consider some out-of-pocket risk, it will save you on your premiums.

In case you are married, you are able to drop your monthly vehicle insurance premium payments by merely putting your partner on your own policy. Plenty of insurance providers see marriage as an indication of stability and think that a married person is a safer driver compared to a single person, especially if you have kids like a couple.

As being an car insurance customer, it is recommended to be on the lookout for scams around. With new insurance carriers appearing every day, a number of them make bold statements and promise to provide lower monthly premiums, but the coverage is cut-rate at best and is likely to drastically increase as soon as you file an insurance claim.

Never alternate vehicles among members of your family as a way to secure lower policy costs. Having merely one name attached with each car will net you a better price on your insurance.

Join a proper car owners’ club if you are looking for cheaper insurance on a high-value auto. Drivers with exotic, rare or antique cars recognize how painfully expensive they can be to insure. In the event you enroll in a club for enthusiasts from the same situation, you could obtain access to group insurance offers that offer you significant  royal travel recreation by design discounts.

The ideal car insurance advice is to keep a clean record while driving. There may be very little event more detrimental to policy cost when compared to a collision. Know your limits when driving, and prevent situations that place you in probability of an accident. Don’t drive through the night when your visibility is poor at these times.

Insurance has several factors, along with the cost is among one of the ones consider when you are performing research. Rather, you need to see the find print, which means you understand specifically what your coverage entails.

  You must choose a popular and recent vehicle over whatever else. If your vehicle needs to be repaired, parts will likely be readily available and remain relatively cheap. With the older model, you may have to order the parts or by using a rare foreign brand, hold the parts shipped from overseas. This can increase your insurance, or otherwise be protected by it.

Your insurance really should not be expensive when you drive below 7500 miles per year. You may drive less through taking public transit instead, or by sharing rides together with your coworkers. Be sure to can provide a proof to the insurance company that you simply drive under 7500 miles annually.

Seek out rates from many different companies prior to buying the car insurance that works for you. You must shop and request around if you want to get good rates.

Shop around to find the best rates in automobile insurance. It’s a competitive business. You can definitely find a business you like better than your own company which will ask you for less. Alternately, when your insurance agent knows you are looking, you might be able to get them to satisfy the quote you receive from your lesser insurance provider.

In the event you don’t commute and just make use of your car to run errands and deal with minor business, you might be able to get yourself a “pleasure driving” rate, which is much less than the rate you might pay should you be commuting to work daily. The reason for this is you are unlikely to get an accident when you don’t drive significantly!

Although there are additional methods to cut your automobile insurance expense, reviewing several quotes is the best way to cut your rates. Talk with several insurance companies or agents to comprehend how to get lower rates. Even though you need SR-22 insurance, shopping around online can assist you get the lowest rates on your automobile insurance.

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