#hate what it's done to the way i consume music like i'll have one thing on repeat until the next one comes out

[kitorin]

sweet dreams.

in which, nanami kento finally goes on a long overdue vacation

contents. nanami kento x gn!reader, 2.965k words, fluff but then heavy angst (mcd and hurt no comfort), mentions of murder (true crime stuff) but no detail of it, reader is a coward and really can't handle horror (sorry that's just me projecting)

"What did you do?"

Guilt makes your lips purse, tongue swiping over them out of habit. You didn't want to call him, to interrupt him during the night shift he ever so loathes, contributing to the things he has to do.

But with demons lurking in the dark and the sense of impending doom beginning to latch onto you, it felt necessary, especially when fear decided to be quite clingy.

"I got scared."

A tired sigh comes from the phone. "How many times do I have to tell you not to watch anything disturbing at night?"

"This documentary got really interesting. I wanted to know what happened next..." Explicit content was fine, with Kento there to cling onto and his never-ending reassurance. Your husband watched these intense shows and documentaries without so much of a flinch, unfazed by quite literally everything displayed on the screen.

You, on the other hand, was a completely different case.

The slightest raise in volume managed to steal a scream from you, and jump scares had you flinching just a bit too hard. The mere build up and suspense of the music had your heart racing, even if nothing happened and it served as a little trick.

"I'm so sorry Ken, I'll hang up so you can focus on work." You're an adult, you shouldn't be so cowardly towards a mere genre of entertainment, and you should know better not to consume it.

Your thumb reaches for the red button, and your emotions hold you back, while rationality argues not to.

"No. Neither of us are going to be hanging up."

One part of you celebrates quietly, while another insists. "But you're working. Overtime nonetheless, and I know you hate those shifts. It's best to get everything done as soon as possible and get out of there."

His voice is raspy, garnished by a sultry tone. "Love, I belong to you, not my job. I do appreciate your thoughts, but you're more important than a mere paycheck."

Fuck. There it is, his eloquent, smooth way with words.

"Still. I can wait." That was a lie, though one you were willing to utter if it meant he'd prioritise his job. "Besides, what about that higher up you mentioned? The irritating one that's childish and overtalkative?"

Kento chuckles. "He's here, but he takes his job seriously and is highly capable. I'm on break anyways. Talk to me. If you can."

"I read about the Sapporo murder case. I still feel like the culprits from the case is going to sneak up on me. Or one of the zombies from Happiness." You adored the show and its cast, but god forbid you sit through another one of its jump scares.

"That's fine, it's normal. The point of this type of media is so scare. A lot of effort is put into making sure they elicit emotion." You cling onto every word he speaks, the world around you still there, only a bit blurry now. "Breathe in through your nose for four second, pause for two. Then breathe out through your mout for another eight."

Have you brushed your teeth?"

Kento hums as a response when you answer yes.

"Where are you right now?"

"In bed, but I need to clean up and turn off some lights before I sleep."

"Ignore it. I'll do it when I'm home."

"Are you sure?" There was no point in asking that, not when you'd rather not move away from the security of the doona. "You're going to be exhausted by the time you're home."

"Doesn't matter to me." Genuine indifference to the matter displays itself in Kento's tone. "I took a nap earlier, had a coffee or two as well. I'm going to be alright—" Something in the background echoes, though you could barely decipher what you were hearing, the furious tone of the voice concerned you.

"Who was that...? Is your boss mad at you? Wait but it doesn't make sense for a boss to give you a nickname—"

For a moment or two, Kento remained silent. "No, just an enthusiastic intern. He's talkative and sometimes loud but he's a good kid."

Your former worry dissipates, so quick that it almost seemed like it was never there in the first place. "Nanamin, was it?"

He sighs, the two of you know damn well that you'll refuse to forget that one.

"It's cute! Nanamin. I like how it sounds."

Voice softening, he replies with a chuckle. "I feel like you'd get along well."

"You should invite him over then. He must adore you if he's calling out to you that much."

"If that's true then I'd say the feeling is quite mutual." All you have is his voice, yet you can say without a doubt that he's beaming, a subtlety only you'll ever know— one of the many which compose the love between the two of you.

"Keep working." You whisper as a yawn claws out of your throat.

"Are you sure? Are you okay now?"

You nod, though he can't see it. "I am. Just listening to you helps a lot."

"I'm glad."

"Do your best at work, okay? And make sure you stay safe on the way home?" You hold back a grin, even though you're alone in your shared bedroom. "I have a surprise for you when you get home."

Kento piques with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yup, I think you'll love it." You stare at your bedside table, where tickets to Malaysia were stored. "I hope you do, at least."

"If it's coming from you of course I'll love it sweetheart." It's miraculous really, how you've been together for so long yet you have to suppress the urge to squeal over his sweet words. "My boss is going to start making me work again, good night darling. Sweet dreams, love."

You fall asleep with ease that night, this time with welcomed thoughts of spending time with Kento on the shore of Kuantan, running around whilst cherishing the cold, salty water licking at your ankles; rather than the intrusive thoughts from earlier.

"You could've kept talking to them. I wouldn't've told anyone even if it took a lot of time."

Fushiguro Megumi is examining the sharpness of his blade when he reassures his teacher Nanami Kento, not looking up from his weapon, seated by the railing of the bridge.

"I appreciate that, but it'd be wrong of you." He moves his shoulders in circles, loosening his tie to wrap it around his knuckles. "I can teach you other methods."

"Pardon?"

Nanami crouches in front of Megumi. "Your breathing changed when I told them how to." The student doesn't respond. "It varies from person to person, I've tested out a lot."

Megumi still doesn't answer, averting his gaze towards the weapon that he held down.

"Fushiguro - kun. Are you scared?"

The younger finally speaks once more. "... I guess." Hesitation presents itself in his words, barely stable and his reluctance to maintain eye contact. "I won't let that stop me from completing my tasks—"

"It's okay. You're merely sixteen, you're not even old enough to drink, nor get your driver's licence."

Megumi returns to silence.

"Look at me." And so Megumi does. "To be a child is not a sin. I'm perfectly fine with withdrawing you from this operation if it's too much."

"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?"

Indeed he would. He'd tolerate plenty of discipline and anger from the higher ups. But Nanami Kento knows too well what it's like to risk you and your peers for a 'greater good', at nonetheless a ridiculously young age too—an age where you're supposed to go to regular school and be regular, stupid kids figuring themselves out; not witnessing the death of the ones dear to your heart with the sight of their corpses forever imprinted into your mind, nor have the stench of blood memorised meticulously instead of historical dates or mathematical formulas.

If it were up to him, he'd prohibit such exploitation of children. None should be performing such tasks, even if born with an advantageous cursed technique.

If the higher ups adopted the same philosophy as him, Haibara would be alive and well, and Nanami wouldn't feel his stomach lurch whenever he sees a bowl of rice, nor flinch whenever he hears the mention of Geto Suguru. 

'I don't mind if it means you'll be at ease. Gojo can protect me, and if I'm unable to extract you from this operation then I'll handle everything."

Megumi takes a deep breath. "I shouldn't run away. I'll do my best. I have Tsumiki I need to return to. We should go find Itadori now."

“If you say so then, but it’s still my duty to protect you.” With a final, strong tug he tightens his tie around his knuckles. “I can't guarantee any results, not in this instable world and career. What I can promise, is that I will protect you with my life."

A determined nod from Megumi is all he needs.

Quick and efficient; that's the plan. Shibuya was already a mess, and all he wanted was the security of your arms within the four walls he calls 'home'.

"Thank you for having us."

Megumi, the one with the messy, black hair speaks coldly, though very politely, his manners were courteous and so was Yuuji. They'd come to your door and introduced themselves as interns at Kento's company. Now, they were seated in your living room, on your couch.

"Don't mention it, Ken's always been fond of the interns." You already miss him, he must've stayed overnight at the company again. "Are you okay with first names?"

Both nod.

You smile. "So, Yuuji, Megumi, what have you come here for?"

Yuuji speaks first. "It's about Nanamin, I mean Nanami—"

Without malicious attempt you cut him off. "Nanamin is fine, I overheard you calling him that last night. He was fond of it, it was quite cute after all." You chuckle to yourself at it. 

The boy swallows, appearing apprehensive. He sounded so enthusiastic last night, perhaps he was the type who needed to warm up towards people first.

"Well, um."

You don't say anything, giving him time to respond comfortably.

"Nanami sensei passed away last night." Megumi finishes what Yuuji couldn't.

Your heart drops.

Temptation to make an accusation of a prank attempts to claw out of your throat, but with how their expressions scream nausea and discomfort, it'd be rude to do so.

That explained why he never kept his promise of finishing up on chores, knowing Kento he would’ve done everything to make sure he made it home to do as he said he would. 

"What happened?" It doesn't feel right— and it isn't at all, but you have to figure out the truth, even if this all doesn't seem real.

"There was a fire." Yuuji whispers, barely loud enough and coherent with the tremble of his voice. "And he didn't make it out in time."

You remain silent, so does Megumi. Yuuji bites his lip, suppressing what seemed to be a sob.

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If only—" It drowns out in his bawling. "It was my fault. He—"

He completely lacked incoherency now, hiccuping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He helped us first." Megumi once again continues Yuuji's words. "But they recovered his body, we brought you his ashes."

He pulls out a package from his shoulder bag, wrapping it to reveal a pale blue funerary urn. Megumi places it onto the table.

"I'm sorry. If I had been capable of protecting myself he wouldn't've died saving me."

Your gaze meets Megumi’s, you're too afraid to properly acknowledge the urn, where your boyfriend was supposedly resting.

Silence permeates the air, Yuuji bites his sleeve to suppress his crying and Megumi breathes shakily.

"Don't apologise. You have no reason to. Neither of you." You've barely known the two, but the way Yuuji was sobbing broke your heart, and how both seemed to genuinely believe they caused Kento's passing. "It's not your fault. I don't think it is, and he would agree with him. He made the choice to help you, because he cared deeply for both of you. You can cry freely, I won't stop you." You muster a smile, hoping it'll be comforting in some sort of way. They're only kids, they can't be blaming themselves for the death of another they didn't cause.

Yuuji's teeth release the sleeve of his hoodie, hiccuping out what sounded like a thank you. You push a tissue box towards him, to which he accepts the offer.

"You idiot…” Megumi sniffles a bit.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.” You pat him on the back, rubbing it too. You give him your phone, opening a new contact. “I’d like to invite you two to the funeral, can I have your contact details? In the meantime I’ll make some tea.”

You earn a nod, and are quick to retreat into the kitchen, hand holding your mouth shut as you slowly cry, pleading for Yuuji and Megumi to be unable to hear. 

"Kento! We're here, at Kuantan!"

After a long flight and travel, you finally arrived at your destination, you had dropped your luggage off at the accommodation, the urn Megumi had given you was held up against your chest.

I've always wanted to go to Kuantan, in Malaysia. One day I'd like to build a house on a secluded beach and live there. Of course with you, if you were okay with it.

You take off your sandals, tossing them away as you approach the shoreline, the coolness of the water catching you off guard. You continue walking, until it reaches halfway up your calves.

Off goes the lid of the urn, and you toss the ashes into the beach, watching the waves swallow Kento whole. It's not long before the urn is empty, you've never had to scatter someone's ashes, yet it felt like something was missing.

In all honesty, you have no idea if Kento wanted to be cremated, you've never touched on the subject of death, probably because the two of you were so young.

But something tells you this is the right decision. Kuantan's beautiful, and he wanted to go when work and money permitted him to do so. He'd loved to read a book under the shade of that large tree over there, and would've wanted to try fishing at the rock ledge nearby. It was just the two of you here, even better.

Fuck.

As you watch him swim into the ocean, you notice the tears threatening to spill. You don't bother trying to avoid it, not that you would've been able to.

"It's not fair!" You yell, out into the ocean. You don't blame Yuuji, or Megumi, or anyone, but you're still livid. "I miss you, I miss you so much that it gets hard to breathe."

The ring box feels heavy in your pocket.

"If you had to leave this world early you could've done it later." Your cry becomes a sob. "Just one month, then I could've fucking proposed. I don't need a honeymoon or marriage, I just want your fucking answer."

In an ideal world, you'd like to think that he would've accepted without hesitation, but that fantasy doesn't compare to the pain of remaining oblivious to his answer forever.

"Who's going to comfort me now? Who am I going to spend the rest of my life with? Who am I going to cook dinner with? What about Yuuji and Megumi? They had to finish their internships without you. Do you know how hard Yuuji cried when he came to tell me you passed away?"

By no means are you mad at Kento, you could never. But anger that slowly accumulated in your heart for the past few months, and had erupted. The empty coldness of your bed stings, and the amount of cutlery required being halved overwhelms you with misery. You can’t even laugh at his high school photos anymore, the amusement from his ridiculous haircut can’t triumph over the fact that he had passed away a mere ten years later. 

You’d much rather store it all away, each and every possession and photo of the man. The sight of his favourite mug serves as a harsh reminder that morning coffee with him will never happen. Listening to old voice mails seemed reassuring and almost lulled you to sleep, until you had to come to terms that he was truly gone once more. 

But at least sound can be captured.

What about his scent? Eventually his clothes would lose their scent, they probably were already on that course, even with your refusal to wash them. Touch can’t be preserved, you can cling onto the memory of your skin against his for as long as you want, but you’ll never truly experience it again.

“Goodbye Kento!” Despite your miserable state you pull yourself together just enough so you can see him off with a smile. “I love you, so so much. More than anything in the world, I always will! Thank you, for being there. Th-thank you for loving me.”

You've lost the energy to yell, throat now hoarse. You venture deeper into the shore, not caring about your clothes getting wet, as your face gets soaked with your own tears.

Who's fault is it? Was it the culprit of the fire (if there was one)? Or perhaps yours, for not proposing earlier. Maybe then he would've been safe and sound in Kuantan, after taking leave. Perchance it was the heavens deciding they’d rather just not authorise him to spend the rest of his name.

Whoever it was, it doesn't matter. Nothing could bring back the warmth of Nanami Kento. 

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[like-sands-of-time]

All right heres the thing that's been bugging me since I watched season four.

I love morgana in season one. I find her introduction absolutely fascinating. She feels like a very important character, but we don't know how yet. I love that we see her picking fights with Uther from the first, for it to all culminate in her attempting to kill him by the first season finale, all in a way that is so believable and sympathetic to me (and Merlin) that I was honestly hoping Merlin would just, slip on one of those hills and watch her kill him, because we now know three characters who wouldnt mourn the loss of the king. Who are angry at him for the unforgivable things he's done even recently. At that point arthur is most willing to work with magic and common men, and morgana (with Merlin) have had a clear impact on his growth as a man. I love that.

I... Don't see the rest of the shows arc (s3 and on) as believable for who she was then. I'm sorry but either she was caring about the citizens of Camelot and their suffering, or it was all a lie, that doesn't go away just because you're angry at one guy. I'll leave that alone, it's for another time. BUT. even if they wanted to show that dragons have free will and could befriend who they wished, regardless of dragon blood, I still don't think the entirety of that season makes any sense.

Why would Merlin have hatched the egg right then if he wasn't willing or able to raise the hatchling? They said multiple times the egg would last. And if Kilgharrah wasn't willing to raise the egg why did he convince Merlin to do it. It what world would the characters of Kilgharrah and Merlin as we know them at this point just leave an infant dragon to do it's own thing anyway? Let alone go work with a sorceress they believe to be evil consumed. That.... Doesn't make sense. Not even in a tragic but realistic way, it just simply doesn't make sense to me. Merlin could have safely put the egg where Kilgharrah used to be imprisoned if no one visits there, or Kilgharrah could have found another cave or safe place to keep it. Those make sense. Hatching it only to both leave and forget about the child doesn't really make sense for either of them?

The writers wanted morgana to have a dragon ally, be an equal to Merlin visually in their ultimate fight, and I get it....... but make Aithusa choosing morgana make sense. Develop their relationship in any way..? And while we're at it make morgana trying repeatedly to kill Arthur make any sense because it the show I watched I never saw any reason for her to want anything other than 1) uther dead and 2) magic free in Camelot once more. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. You can't have characters just Do Things because you want them to happen lmao that's not how people work.

This show loves to tell me instead of showing me. I know what they want me to think because they make it glaringly freaking obvious but I'm sorry .. you have to actually develop character arcs or relationships (whether it's between a dragon and the main villain, or Arthur and Guinevere, because sunbursts and cute music isn't doing anything for me lol. They didn't even develop lance either. She had two love interests shown to us and we just have to use our imagination I guess.

Idk, write morgana to be the darkest, cruellest, most insane bitch you want that's fine with me. It's all medieval fanfiction but ... It has to be plausible. Give me any reason at all why bbc morgana hated Arthur or Camelot or Gwen or anything. Do tragic, do.. "she was always meant to be against him" if you must, but also? It's all fanfiction so have morgana being Arthurs sorceress .. powerful just like Merlin but in her own way and they're both loyal to Arthur.

[ryuzakemo128]

Please can I request a Tommy and his daughter with the prompt

I will continue to be here. Hate me, don't hate me. I'll always be there whenever you need me

I hope you like this.

Unfair

Young, beautiful, lively and full of energy. Y/N Shelby, painter and violin player with a penchant for playing depressingly sad songs in order to practice.

Arthur often wept while listening to her play. He'd often say that it made him feel sad and think often too deeply. So she stopped playing them around her uncle. She might have been depressed. But she didn't want to hurt those around her.

You were currently ignoring your father, not because of something he had done or what happened that day.

"I will continue to be here. Hate me, don't hate me. I'll always be there whenever you need me."

"If you think I hate you, then you're completely incorrect and honestly dad if you think I hate then you haven't listened to a word I said."

He knew you didn't mean to say that you hated him. Your Aunt Ada never too far away at times like these. He picked up the phone and called Ada, "Ada, I need your help with somethin."

"You did it again didn't you. You said know and she stormed off screaming that she hated you."

"Somethin like that"

"I'll be over soon and we can both figure this out together. Next time, don't yell at her."

By the time Ada came over, you were fast asleep and ignoring everyone that ever came to your door. Days flew by and the argument was well into memory, she left a note saying she was sorry she was born looking so much like her mother. But she wasn't in her room, she wasn't at Ada's place or with Polly. She wanted to leave for a few hours, her father didn't notice her gone as he was busy that day.

"Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Your father shouted inside the house looking for you. "Y/N!"

He read the note and prepared for the worst, his anxiety ramped up through the roof when he saw that she wasn't in there. Arthur yelled out "Gun is gone too!"

John yelled out "she's not with Esme either. I just called."

You had your father's gun in your hand and a numb feeling washes over you. You had no intention of using on anyone or yourself, but it didn't mean the temptation wasn't there. She climbed a tree as soon as she caught a glimpse of her father.

"I don't want to talk to you right now Father. I want more time to think. I'm sorry for running away. But I don't think I can stand being someone you can forget about so easily. My hair is is greying long before yours. how is that fair? Not that you noticed it anyhow." You think to yourself, watching them search for you.

"They'll give up on me I know they will. They'll go back home and pretend as If I never existed in the first place." you started weeping at the thought of being forgotten. As if it was the only thing consuming you, the fear of being forgotten and left behind.

"No one listens to me, why on earth do I bother?"

"What on earth are you doing up there?!"

"I dunno why do you think?!"

"Get down from there!"

"Fuck no."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you y/n"

"I'm sorry for stealing the gun and running away."

Before he could say anything else, "I understand if you want to get rid of me"

"There is no way in hell I'd do that!"

You jumped down from the tree, "you sure dad?" You step toward your father, "I'm sure love"

"Also I have learnt a piece of music and I want to play it for you."

Arthur rushed over relieved to see Tommy with his daughter walking up the hill towards the house. John stood there arms crossed.

"Don't do that to us again, you hear y/n?" Arthur hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry Uncle Arthur and Uncle John."

"y/n has learnt a new piece of music on her violin that she wanted us to hear. right y/n?"

[usedpidemo]

Do you think K-pop concert ticket prices are too expensive now? What do you think should be the threshold, and what can be done to give all fans, whether casual or diehard, a great experience?

I could go on an entire rant/tangent on what I think concerts as a whole should be like, but it would be the length of a regular fic, so I'll spare you every issue and thought I have about them. I've only been to one concert in my whole life, so I don't have the experience or depth that other concertgoers have, but let's just say the streaming and COVID economy fucked up everything.

Prices: I believe the terrible royalties from streaming, as well as the increased demand for live shows in general has caused these ticket prices to skyrocket. Like you can't just buy a ticket for a decent seat for less than $70 now, that shit only gives you nosebleed seats. Not to mention the deliberate collusion of scalpers by ticketing sites. Those resale tickets and third parties directly cooperate with Ticketmaster so they can punch a bit more money from consumers. And don't even get me started with Dynamic Pricing and those terrible service fees. I'm fortunate enough to live in a country where such things don't exist, but with HYBE openly expressing their intention to enable dynamic pricing and finding alternatives in places where it's not available, you can bet they'll find a way to punch up the prices too.

I understand why they charge this much. Fans will go out to see their favorite artist, regardless of how much they complain about it. FOMO. You don't know if they'll come back to your country or city, or when. Not to mention, the typical K-pop concert is a much grander production than, say, your average pop star. You got backup dancers, large stages, numerous costume changes, sometimes a live band, and of course, multiple members with dozens of staff managing a group. Concerts are the biggest revenue/income drive now for a majority of artists because of how music is distributed today, so they have to break even. Doing world tours are costly; consider the VISA and other costs on a country-to-country basis. No wonder they'd rather tour the US and Japan only to save a few thousand dollars.

It's difficult to gauge the threshold because popularity and demand is fickle, especially in K-pop. However, if there has to be a limit, I personally would stop at around $1000-sub range. There's not a damn singer or artist on planet earth, dead or alive, that's worth over a $1000 ticket. Even MJ. The economy isn't looking good, inflation keeps jumping year by year, and concerts have become basically rich people havens too.

Personally, I do think it'll eventually die out. There's a touring oversaturation right now that it dries people out and we have to pick and choose who we want to attend.

There's a few things I really want to see happen in the future, ideally:

• Rookies shouldn't be pricier than their seniors. I don't care if its NewJeans, IVE, or Le sserafim, they really shouldn't be more expensive than say, a 3-4 year old group. It's ridiculous how NMIXX and IVE were more expensive than The Boyz or ATEEZ.

• Announcing ticket sale literally right after the tour announcement. This is something I absolutely hate. Why are you selling tickets for a show six-eight months away like two weeks after announcing it? Fucking insane! It gives us little to no prep time to gather up resources and plan accordingly. Also, what if something happens that causes a concert to be canceled or delayed? It'll be much harder for us to get refunds back, which is exactly why they pull this shit off. Normalize selling tickets at most two months-a month before the show.

• Make the ticket prices worth it. This is my biggest gripe with concerts, more than the prices: that you're basically paying for the seats and nothing else. I'm not gonna lie, I likely wouldn't have gone out to my one and only concert if I wasn't guaranteed anything else besides a nice seat. Pre-pandemic, the price of the ticket I bought would have given me a group/solo pic with the group and some other cool perks like maybe signed merch. Now? Most concerts give you the show and nothing more. You have to justify paying that hefty tag beyond just a close view of your favorite artist. I remember when pop stars like Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, and The Weeknd had photo-ops before the show for those VIP tivkets. COVID ruined all of that. It's such a damn shame, because at best, you're getting soundcheck, which I'm not fond of, in my opinion. It forces people to bait for interactions and not enjoy themselves during the show cuz they aren't guaranteed artist engagement (though this won't really change anything if we're being real lol). I personally would be a lot more comfortable and have a greater time if I knew I could greet them before or after the show instead of trying too hard to get their attention.

[medicasino]

SINCE I KNOW THEM.... 3 and 15 for da hyacinth please

HEHEHEHHEHEH the Cinth......... okay this will be long as hell im so sorry bestie

SO.

3. Their playlist. Drop their playlist (or, if it's extremely long, the most fitting songs on it) and include specific lyrics from each song you consider to be the most fitting. Explanation not required but you can if you feel like it! Do not care about cringe. It is fun.

MUSIC TIME???? indulging me???????

okay her playlist is SO long but illl drop a couple of the Most Fitting ones! i think i've done something like this before but i never did an explanation. im shy sharing explanations on main bc i dont want ppl to think im cringe or get super inspired but fuck it lets go

"Sensitive to fate, not denial / But hey, who's on trial? / It took a lifespan with no cellmate / The long way back" and "You've come to love me lightly / Yeah, you come to hold me tight / Is this motion ever lasting / Or just shutters pass through the night?" - Evil by Interpol (Very great song with super fun lyrics,,,,,, basically a reminder of "ah, i can't love anyone or be loved, it won't last because i'll have to hurt them")

"Winding down our emotions / Family and friends becoming ghosts to dream of / And pass on, time will erase / Every faith, every name / We are alone, no one to blame" - Bernadette by IAMX (another banger! this one is slightly loosely applied EXCEPT for these lyrics because wuh oh ur not allowed to have friendships, ur evil remember? thats ur only purpose in life to cause ruin and be alone)

"I know that you mean so well / But I am not a vessel for your good intent / I will only break your pretty things / I will only wring you dry of everything / And if you're fine with that / If you're fine with that / I will poison all your happy thoughts / I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box" - Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives (See above stuff . im getting very shy now so the following may not have as many explanations im shyyyy and i dont wanna be crucified for music choices)

"Is it all just smoke and mirrors? / Am I a victim of your theatre? / Retribution for your bliss / I consumed it all, just like a tick / You're me improved, it makes me sick / You turned my heart into a fist / You need to know how I have felt / I'll drag you down with me to hell" - Scroll of Sorrow by Machine Girl (no more explanations sowwy i got shyyyyy ;w; but this song is WILD and i love it. very Hyacinthcore)

think thats about it for lyrics i feel inclined to share im. very shy about sharing lyrics actually bc i dont want to disrespect the creators of the songs but i did look into these ones to make sure theyre not super personal before i shared (if they are and i missed that i apologize ;;w;; and i will remove them if so)

Okay now time for my original ideas

15. What would their theme song/leitmotif be titled? What would it sound like, if you have an idea?

UM GOOD QUESTION i havent really thought of that yet! But since her story is gonna be turned into a video game hopefully I should probably think about what her theme's gonna be called LOL. Maybe something relating to her role as the literal embodiment of evil or like a reference to how she doesn't really have free will but definitely HAS the ability to think and hates what she's forced to be. as for what it sounds like, OH DEFINITELY orchestral-style breakcore with glitches. Very volatile and unstable but surprisingly sorrowful with melodic areas, if that makes sense?

[archived-and-moving]

These 4

Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer's block?

Probably should not ask me of all people about this honestly, because I'm someone who has a really hard time working when their creatively drained.

However for me I think I'd have to say that when working through writers block, there are usually three things that help me the most.

Consume media that you enjoy.

This can honestly be anything. While what first comes to mind for me is books or fic from some of my favorite authors, you can also just do anything that makes you happy.

Listen to your favorite song/playlist, watch a show/movie that you love, maybe even create art if that makes you happy. Sometimes all it takes to get past a brain fart is finding inspiration through enjoyment around you.

I specifically recommend books or fic because a lot of times you can get inspired by an author's writing style, events, character motivations, dialogue, and even just general vibe of a story. Enough so that you can get yourself right back into writing. This isn't a go ahead to plagiarize or anything, but it's also not an English paper.

Write what you enjoy and write from your enjoyment.

2. Self care

I can literally hear you groaning but omg this helps so much. If you're stuck where you're writing, get up and get a glass of water, grab a snack if your hungry. If you've done both then brush your teeth if you haven't yet, wash your face, hell, hop in the shower real quick.

Something about taking a quick break and taking care of your body and mind honestly helps out your writing so much. I can look back on some of my stories and tell just by my writing when I was doing the appropriate self care or not. A little goes a long way!!

3. Fucking Exercise.

This one makes me angry. So mad. I hate that this works but I have to recommend it anyway because it fucking works. However you can, take a quick break and exercise.

Ride a bike, take a hike, go for a swim, hop on the treadmill. Sometimes I'll even pick a hallway and run back and forth a few times to get my heart (and my brain) going.

I literally have never been more productive after running, taking a shower, then eating food/drinking water. Something about doing those things in order really resets my brain and gets me ready to write.

But also like. Be aware. If you don't have time for this, that's okay!!

Anything honestly helps. Take a two minute break from writing to just lay on the floor. Listen to music real quick to clear your brain. Do a couple push-ups, get dressed, make your bed!!

Just changing your environment, your mindset, really, truly helps to get through a writing block/burnout.

Would you ever want to write something canon if you got the opportunity?

Hmmm. That's really hard for me to say. Maybe?

It honestly depends on my mood and how the series will end.

I'm more of an AU fan for my writing, but you never know what'll happen. Maybe I'll find something I like within canon, maybe I won't. We'll see.

Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

I've looked it up and alternate universe counts as a trope, so that by definition falls right under my favorite.

However if I had to be more specific I'd say flower shop au's have to be some of my favorites.

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

To be honest, I haven't really thought about it with the current works I have up on Ao3. If anyone drew anything from my writing I think I would actually cry (/pos) and I would hang it on my wall.

[spiralingblue]

Always Running-Prologue

~Author's note- with love, this book may be triggering to some readers~

My legs feel like they'll give out any second as they carry me through the trees. My bare feet skip over jagged stones and tree roots. I know that when I wake up they'll be all cut up and bruised. My lungs feel like they're going to die any second, and I wish more than anything that I can just stop running and catch my breath, but I know so much better than that. I've done that once before, and oh, what a mistake that had been. My long chestnut colored hair had fallen out of it's ponytail God only knows how long ago, and it's sticking to the sweat forming on the back of my neck and forehead.

The only thing propelling my body forward is the steady sound of soft feet pounding on the ground behind me, getting closer. Cory's feet. The feet that once ran on the play ground with me, as we chased each other laughing. The sound of his once musical laughter rises up behind me sending spiders down my spine. Anger rises up in my chest as I realize not for the first time, that this is fun for him. His idea of entertainment. I wonder if he can hear my heart flying out of my chest, If he can smell my fear and resentment of him. I wonder if deep down, he cares that I hate him.

I know that if he wanted to this very second, he could effortlessly catch up to me and grab a hold of me, tearing me to shreds. I know that he wants to, but he's holding himself back. It's all a part of the game. Showing me how much power he has and how little I hold. A part of me wishes he'd just end it now, do what I know is inevitable.

My heart dances a little bit when I see the moon reflecting off of a stream in the distance. Hope sears through my chest. Water. Cory's only vulnerability. He can't touch water. If I can just cross the stream, I'll be safe from him. I should have known better than to hope.

Just when the water is close enough to consume me, just as my foot is about to touch the surface, he tackles me to the ground, pinning me against a tree trunk. His manic laugh echos all around us. "It's so good to finally see you again," he breaths into my ear the exact way he knew I used to love. He kisses the skin behind my ear and I scream as he grazes his teeth along my neck roughly. "Did you miss me?" He asks with a laugh. I struggle against him, knowing it's useless.

My breath hitches in my throat suddenly when I feel a sharp ache in my neck. He'd grazed my neck a little too hard with his teeth causing blood to course down my arms and chest and cover every surface. The look in his eyes quickly changes from lust to fear and concern for me. That's when I see the old Cory poke through. Not the monster with fangs and claws. "No." he says over and over as if he can take everything back by saying one word. He takes his shirt off and begins to wrap it gently around my neck, trying to halt the bleeding. There's not enough fabric in the world. I begin to fade out of consciousness as I lose more blood. "No. No no no. Please don't do this to me Syv. You have to go home or you'll die. Wake up, Damnit!" he says, shaking me by the shoulders. Tears are streaming down his beautiful face. "I'm so sorry," he says over and over. The last thing I feel are his lips pressed gently against my own.

I wake up gasping. My body is soaked from sweat and my heart is still racing as if I traveled three times around the world. I breath out a sigh of relief when I realize I'm not in the forest. I'm in my room, laying in my bed staring up at my ceiling.

It was all yet another dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. I don't have the luxury of dreaming anymore.

Thank you for reading!! @glassgalaxi on Wattpad

[theold-ultraviolence]

hey sweetie,

don't worry! I am sorry that you haven't had the best time and I again hope that it'll get solved soon and you'll be able to relax soon! pls, take all the time that you need in the meanwhile! also, I had a similar experience with stomachache and I swear to gods I had the worst night ever + fever and the doctor was like 'oh... it's just anxiety', like... wtf body? why are we choosing pain?

also I saw one of your posts about some dude mansplaining to you a song and I stg men are the worst and they are so annoying (when not fictional).

like... sirs, sometimes it isn't that difficult and people are allowed to like/dislike things. reminds me of when I was explaining what I was studying to friends (it's a mixed program of humanities and computer science) and a friend went like 'oh, so you'd be a programmer, by the end of it' and I was about to correct them when this dude went like '... she isn't even doing any programming' and I immediately went like '... oh I actually know to program in this language and in this other' and he shut up really quickly.

oh, now you have made me very curious about Danny Elfman! I am definitely checking him out even more if he has done score music as it is the best one - for me - to focus. plus I like the goth aesthetic so I am sold and I'll get back to you when I listened to something about him!

(also bestie, you'll get no judgement from me for sniffling perfumes who reminds us of aemond. no absolute judgement).

no bestie, I get the whole headphones thing! I also have bluetooth one and I stg the amount of times I checked thoroughly because sometimes they'd like detach and switch to another device with bluetooth and I was scared of being caught consuming adult content at full volume. so yeah... poor aemond.

and I get about the melancholy! I live in another city for uni and although I have friends I see at my lessons and I chat with my family daily... sometimes I am just like 'would love to share this with somebody'. (and that's why I write fics).

also I am glad you enjoyed my suggestion about aemond and burlesque! in all truth I think that he'd be utterly flustered at first, and it'd have to be a thing that you discuss but I think that he'd definitely enjoy the attention and would feel comfortable. also because in my experience burlesque is also based on having fun and feeling comfortable so I'd definitely imagine that it'd have a very relaxed air. but if this happened into a club, I can also imagine him mostly standing a bit back and observing and he might send a drink your way if he enjoyed your exhibition, but wouldn't approach at first. but he'd definitely enjoy it much better than clubs.

and you are absolutely welcome! I am just glad if my silly thoughts can somehow make you smile and have a lovely day!

Doesn't that kind of diagnosis freaking SUCK!? wtf body indeed!! I swear when I went to the doctor I was sooo hoping it would be something easily fixable with meds and while she did give me some pills, she was like, 'nah you gotta learn how to control stress, have a good night's sleep, etc...' pleaseeee how do I do that??? 💀💀💀💀

lmao about mansplainers, OMG boy if I know!!! I swear I've only met (1) guy that wasn't like that, my all-time best friend with whom I don't talk anymore which is a shame because I really liked him and he was literally the only guy ever who was actually a good listener. And totally get what you're saying!! I really hate it when people also don't understand nuance even when you explain, like, 'oh so you're basically a programmer', in my case it's always, 'oh you studied art? so what do you do, arts and crafts?" it's like UGHHHH. There's more to stuff than whatever simplistic notion you may have of said stuff.

AHH if you do check him out I'll be super excited to know what you thought!! and yeah, he's pretty much scored every Tim Burton movie ever! and before that, he was in a band called Oingo Boingo which is more ska/80's new wave type of stuff. And his album 'big mess' is pretty much alternative/metal but very strange sounding. I love him because he's literally experimented with so many types of music! but definitely his scores are a good starting point to him!

The bluetooth thing omg, TOO REAL, yeah that happens to me too! Also, going back to the 'smelling perfumes' and company, I just have to tell you that I went to the mall yesterday and passed by the Adidas store and couldn't stop thinking about Ewan, which eventually got me thinking about Aemond, because I went into Sephora to buy some makeup and saw all the perfumes and AHHH I couldn't help but think about going to the mall to do some shopping with Aemond 🥺 he'd spoil his partner rotten but I also got super giddy thinking about buying things for him as well.

Ok ok ok ok omg re: burlesque with Aemond, NOT HIM SENDING YOU A DRINK BECAUSE HE ENJOYED YOUR SHOW DANG AEMOND GET IT! omg!!! I'D DIE. I can imagine the utter levels of mutual pining going on - you sneaking a peek at the audience to see if he's there, hoping he will. And if he is, making the show all about him, making direct eye contact as if he's the only one in the room. OH DEAR I'm WEAK

Once again, thank you for stopping by to ye old inbox!! hope you have an amazing start of the week, my dear! x

[solaeter]

hate that I love you - Naoya Zenin [18+]

I haven’t actually written smut in like two years..well finished smutty content. I can barely start it and finish it, shame on me but I am pathetic °(ಗдಗ。)°. I am so nervous and shy, so pls no pitchforks and tomatoes _(:3」∠)_ this is a repost cause doubt hit me for a hot minute, but we gon be brave (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ 

Word Count: 2311

Request Status: OPEN

Warning[s]: Adult content, minors dni!! idk proper warnings cause my brain is fried atm, but there’s oral [f receiving], penetration which is given, slight manipulation? Naoya cause he’s a warning all on its own, noob attempt at dirty talk [I died k]. reader chan tries to hate naoya but can’t. It’s just porn without plot unless you squint.

Just when you thought you were safe, reality had another thing in mind. Strong hands pulled your hips up with a force that had your face hugging the pillow before you could register how you even allowed yourself to end up like this.

Why did it have to be now? You really thought you managed to get away. "Why are you doing this?" You turn your head, teeth latching to your bottom lip when two fingers glide along your clothed slit. 

"You don't seem to mind." Naoya remarked, his voice laced with disinterest and boredom while his eyes roamed your body. Three months..that's how long he's been without you. His favorite toy. "You're already so wet for me, miss my cock that much?" He questioned with a sneer, sliding your pretty little panties to the side. The sudden chill made you squirm and his words bit at your budding arousal.

"Couldn't you have found someone else to toy with?" You avoided his question, voice hitching when he slid a finger up your dripping slit, stopping at your clit and circling the bud ever so slowly. It wasn't fair how he could work your body so effortlessly. Your mouth parts as your eyes squeeze shut. 

Naoya smirks, his eyes never leaving your cute little cunt while you try to look as displeased as possible. You should have known getting away from him was quite literally impossible. He owned you. 

"Why should I find someone else when I only need you?" The sentence itself sounded sweet, but you knew it was far from what it suggested. Ever since you met Naoya, he's had you by the palm of his hand. He used you for his own needs, taking and taking before tossing you to the side. Yet, you lingered and remained loyal until you tried to end things. Naoya let you live in a false sense of newfound freedom, giving you just enough space before making your world tumble back down, right where he wanted you. 

Now, there was no denying that you looked absolutely stunning before him. Your body was meant for him, made for him to fuck over and over. You were his missing puzzle piece. When you don't answer Naoya, he clicks his tongue and brings his fingers down to your entrance, the tips teasing your hole before plunging knuckle deep, your walls clamping around him beautifully while you cry out.

The sudden intrusion made your thoughts muddle together and everything seemed to spin. Naoya could make you so stupid so easily and he laughs, so humorously. "Why would I find someone else when you're so..fucking worthless without me. I haven't even done anything and you're already stupid."

You glance back over your shoulder, cheeks burning when your eyes meet his cold ones. He never showed you an ounce of love, only half an inch of interest and a load of selfish, one sided desires. "I hate you." You spat while gripping the sheets when another finger eased its way inside you, stretching you further. Naoya curled his fingers roughly, swiping over the one spot that had stars in your eyes. He knew your body better than you knew it. Or so he claimed with a sense of pride. 

No matter how long you've been apart, Naoya would be sure to remind you that no one else will make you feel the way he does. Even if you're spouting words of hate, he just knows you won't stay away for too long. "Heh, sure you do." 

You wanted to be angry, call him out for being a vile piece of shit but nothing came out of your mouth besides helpless moans. 

"Look at you, so pretty and fucking useless. Baby can't even argue with me." Naoya talked down at you, thrusting his fingers in and out of your pretty cunt until you're clenching around him with a strangled, frustrated cry as pleasure washed over your body. "Damn, you couldn't even hold it in. I'm disappointed." Naoya removes his fingers and your hole clenches around nothing, searching for more.

Oh his little whore. To ruin you is his greatest desire. To have you so wrapped around him, that nothing else in this world can compare to what he does. It makes his blood boil in such a way he can't describe and it shoots straight down to his cock. But he can't have you just yet. 

Naoya has to break you more, see you crumble. So he flips you over and the gasp that leaves your pouty lips is nothing short of stupidly adorable. Even more so is how you look at him with wide, teary eyes. As if that would make his heart soften.

"Finally have something to say or are you just gonna stare at me like a fucked out fool?" Naoya spread your legs, bending to hike your skirt around your waist before fully removing your soaked panties. You were compliant, unmoving while he did as he pleased. To be honest, words failed you more when you needed them most. 

"I– please forgive me for leaving.." 

Naoya perked up when the words left your mouth, his own lips twisting into that of a sinister smile. "So you decided on being a good little bitch." He murmurs, placing a hot kiss on the side of your thigh. You always looked so good sprawled out before him, at his mercy. It had his mind spinning in circles, all the possibilities running rampant. "Where's your fight?" He asked casually, inching closer to your puffy cunt and you look down at him only to snap your head back onto the pillow. 

"I have none, I should have listened the first time." 

That sentence you knew by heart considering you've had to confess your wrong doings on multiple occasions. Naoya hums, content as his nose brushes against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body reacts on its own, knees bending and toes curling into the satin sheets. You tried to resist him, tried your damndest but it never worked. It frustrates you, so much that you groan and nearly close your legs around Naoya's stupidly pretty head. 

Firm hands catch your legs and dark eyes land on you. "Oh [Name], tell me what you're feeling. I'm dying to know." He didn't care. You let out a half laugh and sit up on your elbows. 

"I hate you. With my entire being but I can't get away. It's not fair. You're– ahh not f-fair." Your words falter when Naoya's tongue slides up your cunt, lapping up your essence before going back down to your entrance.

"Mhmm.." He listens half heartedly, instead enjoying the sweet taste of you that graces his lips. You became putty in his hands, just like that. So simple, one movement. One hand threaded through his short locks, fingers grasping onto what it could once his tongue dipped inside your awaiting hole. 

"Fuu–" You toss your head back, involuntarily pushing Naoya closer which causes him to chuckle and the rumbling of his body only has you sinking further into his palm. He watched you, how your chest would rise and fall as you panted, moaned and clung to him helplessly. Your reactions had his cock throbbing in his pants and he wasn't going to be able hold out much longer. 

Adjusting one of his arms, Naoya's fingers soon met your clit and circled it quickly, building you higher and higher. Your body jerks and he keeps a hold of you, halting your hips to keep you still. 

You tasted divine, like a special wine made just for Naoya. Your pretty moans were like music to his ears and when he pulls back, the whine that leaves your lips sounded almost sinful. "N-Naoya.." You look at him, eyes blown wide and vulnerable, so close to paradise. He smirks and continues his assault on your clit.

"What? You seem to be getting off just fine with my fingers. Now be a good little slut and cum for me." Naoya coos and just like that, your body listens to his every command. The coil snaps and your body trembles, legs spasming and threatening to close around his head but his unoccupied hand keeps them open while you cry out, incoherent words leaving your lips. 

Naoya can't deny the sight and he groans, the desire to fuck you clouding his thoughts. ""Ah– fuck – what a good girl." He praised, an odd thing coming from him but it has you smiling so stupidly. You watch Naoya through half lidded eyes as he eases you from your high, rubbing small, slow circles around your sensitive clit. Your hips still move with him, your body wanting more.

"Naoya..I need you inside me." You barely manage and if it wasn't for the fact Naoya was so turned on, he would have bitched at you. Instead he uses his free hand to undo his pants and free his aching cock from its hellish confines. 

Your eyes lock onto the throbbing member that now rests in his hand as he pumps it languidly. "Do you really deserve my cock? Last I checked," Naoya hovers above you, situating the tip right at your entrance. "You've been a bad girl." He teases you, pushing the tip just barely inside you before pulling back out. You whine, loudly with a pathetic pout forming on your lips. 

"Please, I need you. So bad, I'll never leave again!" You cry, beg and lift your hips in search of what you wanted so bad. All fight, resistance and negative feelings vanished when all your mind and body wanted was him to consume you..

“Is that so?” Naoya hummed, bottoming out inside of you before you could continue your pleas. Your eyes roll back and he has to suppress the groan that dares escape his own mouth. He never grew tired of how you felt; how your walls fluttered around his cock, how you took him so willingly. So easily. You were truly meant for him. 

The pace is set with languid thrusts, Naoya driving himself deep into your velvety walls. He watches your face contort and twist with pleasure and pain due to his size, it had him surging with a sense of animalistic pride. “Remember who you belong to.” He says lowly in your ear and all you can muster is a quick nod of your head as whimpers and cries leave your delicate lips. Your arms snake around his shoulders, keeping Naoya close while your legs lock around his waist.

“Look at you,” Naoya groans, shifting so that you now sat on his lap, his cock hitting places that made your head spin, “Taking me so well- goddamn - be a little louder. Let everyone hear what a slut you are.” He demands, his voice low and strained. You helplessly comply, bouncing up and down on his lap like a good girl. Your head was warped, just like he wanted. Every moan, cry and wail sounded like a symphony that was only meant for him. Naoya held your hips tightly, guiding your frantic movements, hitting every spot inside you that made you grasp onto him like some type of savior.

Ah yes, Naoya definitely is your savior in his sick twisted head. Though he hisses when your nails scratch his neck, leaving noticeable marks that surely would be questioned later. He didn’t mind, not in the slightest. If anything, it made him fuck you harder, his cock ramming your drenched hole as if it were his last day on this earth. The lewd sounds of your juices squelching every time he fills you had him going crazy and he ignored how you drenched his lap, uncaring of the mess since he so graciously caused it. 

“So close, Naoya please,” Your voice is weak and broken, body trembling as it reaches the peak of nirvana. Naoya wasn’t far off from his own release and instead of being a total asshole like he wanted to be, he held you close.

“Let it go, baby.” He urged before biting down on your neck, sucking the tender spot to leave a claim on your body. You whine and unravel, pleasure overwhelming your body, legs trembling and shaking, you were thankful to be on his lap or you would have gone down. Naoya continues to fuck you, chasing his own release and groaning loudly when hot ropes of cum paint your delicate walls. He fills you completely, uncaring if you ended up bearing one of his kids. Hell the thought only made him feel more possessive. It would give him a greater claim over you, keep you with him.

Before Naoya allowed himself to get aroused once more, he removed you off his lap and got off the dirtied bed to fix his clothing. You watch in your fucked out daze, the grips of confusion and longing playing tug of war in your heart. 

“W-Where are you going?” Your voice sounded so soft, so submissive. Naoya glances back and he admires his handiwork. You were an absolute mess. “You can’t..just leave me like this.” 

How desperate. Naoya bit back a laugh, bending to pick up your discarded panties and toss them onto your stomach. 

“If you want me so bad, you know where to find me.”

With that, Naoya bids his farewells and leaves you like you did to him three months ago. But he knew that you’d come crawling to him before the night ended.

On the other hand, you stared at the ceiling until your heart calmed down and were able to get off the bed. Would you run back to him? Even though you wanted to say no, your body said otherwise with the longing for his touch.

The only thing you knew for certain was that you hated that you loved him. 

[funkymbtifiction]

This pandemic has brought out the worst in me. My sleeping schedule is a mess (I go to sleep at 6am and wake up at 2pm), I'm barely able to get out of the bed, I can barely do the dishes and take out the trash, I spend too much time on YouTube and inside my head, thinking about all the stuff I wanted to work on but being unable to do it.

My memory has also gotten worse - if it's not something I'm not obsessed with then I'll not remember the details. I was trying to snap myself out of this hazy floating by trying to focus my mind at least on reading, which is something I absolutely love, but now I'm unable to focus even on a plot I find interesting and intriguing, my mind immediately starts to wander, or I need to do at least 2 things at once (reading and checking Reddit, or reading and listening to some ambient music). I've also started to not finish stories where I once used to read a book a day.

I know the theory of what I should be doing, but that's it. I'm unable to JUST DO it. I think my Te is trying to motivate me by trying to wake up my conscience, but it's not enough. I hate this because I know I can do things and concentrate and be responsible and productive, but because I'm fine and all my basic needs are met I don't have the need to pull myself together. I used to fuel my 7 by travelling and observing people, but now that we need to stay home, and I have covid (so my friends bring me groceries), my 9w1 core sloth is all too happy to be left alone, with my devices.

I know that this pandemic brought pandemic fatigue with it, plus it's spring and I'm always tired in spring (plus my years-long medical issues with thick blood and low blood pressure), but it's driving me crazy that I could've gotten better at my hobbies and could've reached some of my goals by now only if I DID things. Things that used to work don't help anymore. And then I don't even stay mad long because some new video distracts me.

Is there something from a mbti perspective that can help to start doing things and concentrating on them? (For context I'm an ENFP 9w1 7w6 2w3)

Also thank you so much for this blog, thank you for helping lost souls find their way and be better people, both inside their head and outside when interacting with the outer world ❤️ I haven't been studying mbti for that long but so far I've seen so much valuable information on your blog, and for free!

Are you mad enough at yourself yet to change your behavior?

That's really the bottom line here, because you KNOW that YOU have to start being responsible and doing things and not just wasting your time... but YOU are the only person who will force yourself to do things.

A couple of thoughts. First, I recognize this phenomenon / brain fog. It happened to me several times last year during the pandemic (where I am, things are opening up, so hopefully they will soon for you as well) and I hated it. My mind was unclear, I had lots of things I needed to do but could not focus on any of them. It was, to be honest, a Si grip, which yanks you out of Ne-dom (possibilities, excitement about doing projects, seeing things made real) and turns your intuition into a "fog." There's no access to Fi (do I care about this? if I care, am I a principled person enough to do it?) and no Te (how am I going to prioritize my tasks?), just Si (I'm comfy doing nothing and feeling depressed) and flits of Ne, which only show up as being bored, easily distracted, etc. So some of this is a Si grip, and some of it is general depression (being unfocused, sleeping in late, not taking care of yourself, no motivation even for things you love, unable to finish things). You need to approach it by dealing with both -- getting back into your stronger functions (Ne: envisioning possibilities and finding a purpose, Fi: drawing upon your character and who you want to be and what you care about, to take action, Te: making a plan, forcing yourself to do what needs done, and keeping track of your progress to self-motivate) -- and by recognizing and admitting that you are depressed, and asking what you can do about it.

Second, you have built up some BAD habits during the pandemic. I get it. I fell into some of this as well last autumn, when I ceased being my usual productive self and started leaving work (from home) at 3pm every day. I developed a bad habit of just watching television, which numbed my brain and ultimately bored me. It's only now that I have hope and can go to the store without a mask on that I am feeling happier (my little 7 wing rejoices and has PLANS) and can work through into the late afternoon. I'm re-establishing a schedule that is productive throughout the day instead of allowing myself to "meander" in life. So what you need to do is look at your habits. Make a list of them. Look at what you told me: basically, it is I have become undisciplined, my sleep schedule is bad, and then I wake up late and feel lazy so I don't do anything. What is ONE THING that would jolt you into a different routine? Go to bed on time. Set a time every night, shut off all your devices an hour ahead of it, read a book until you get sleepy, and go to sleep. Wake up at a decent hour. If you wake up at 7am instead of 2pm, your body won't fall into its usual "welp, afternoon is half over, guess I'll watch YouTube" habit. It will go -- wait, what new habit are we forming? Breakfast? Then work?? Okay!

Lastly, and this is HUGELY important for an ENFP -- decide the night before what you are going to accomplish or work on tomorrow. Why? It prepares your brain to know what is expected from it. Unless I do this each night, and have a notion of how I am going to spend my time, my Ne goes ?!?! and I get very little done or waste three hours trying to decide what to do. But if I say, "Okay, tomorrow I am finishing chapter four," I usually finish chapter four (and then some). Today, I have to work at my paying job. I knew this last night, so I am mentally clear and prepared to focus only on the task at hand. I don't treat today as "mine." It belongs to my employer. I know what I am going to do, I intend to do it, and when I get home, I know what else I can work on. Learn to create this habit each night before bed. Decide what tomorrow is going to be like and commit to it.

As for tasks you don't want to do that still need done -- just do them. You can spend 2 weeks avoiding them, or spend an hour and get it over with so you don't feel like crap about yourself because you have kept avoiding it for weeks. Decide, "Tomorrow, I am doing that thing first thing in the morning," and then do it.

You will find that when you start setting yourself tasks (Te) that your Ne starts working properly again -- it will become more focused, less hazy, and more interested in what you can contribute, rather than just mindless "consuming." It's fine to have a down day now and again (even so, it's also useful to have a vague idea the night before of what this day will contain, even if it's fun -- it's fun and exciting to anticipate things) but your life NEEDS structure, or you won't do anything.

I hope you can pull yourself out of this, because you won't be happy unless you do. ENFPs need to get things done, contribute, feel like they are moving forward, and have something to show for their time. Without it, they will get angry at themselves -- as you well know.

[megsironthrone]

Meg's Game of Tales: Tale 8

*Familiar characters are NOT mine! The original story of "The Swan Princess" is actually pretty muddled as far as origin, but it appears to be based off a Swedish or German fairy-tale*

Warnings: Swan Princess AU, angst, violence?, a little fluff. Kind of long.

Pairings: Viserys Targaryen x fem!reader

"Are you excited, Brother?" a young Daenerys asked Viserys as they waited once more for the yearly visit from your family. "For what? Another summer with that little brat? Not exactly my idea of fun, Little Sister." Daenerys rolled her eyes. Viserys was always like this when the summer rolled around. He hated not getting his way and never once had he gotten his way when it came to you and your family.

"Well I like Y/N. I can't wait for her to become my sister." A frown made its way to Viserys' face. He despised being reminded of the arrangement between your kingdoms. You and Viserys had been arranged to wed practically from birth. In order to make the idea more "bearable", your parents along with Viserys' decided that you and Viserys would spend EVERY SINGLE SUMMER together. And this particular summer would be the last before the wedding planning would begin. Needless to say, Viserys was not looking forward to it at all.

Growing up, Viserys had found you annoying. You were always trying inject yourself into everything he did. No matter what Viserys was doing outside of his own bedroom/bath chambers, you were there. He never knew if you were simply trying to bother him or if you were trying to get to know him the way your parents wanted you to. And as you grew older, you became close to the guards and other servants in the palace. You were constantly talking to them when Viserys wouldn't talk to you. It was almost like you were flirting with them. Viserys hated it and he grew to hate summers.

The sound of trotting horses reached Viserys' ears and soon enough, the carriage appeared. After a soft scolding from his mother, Viserys straightened up to his full height and he tried not to run as far away as possible. That usual feeling of annoyance and dread began to fill up his stomach while Daenerys chatted away. If she kept it up, Viserys was certain he'd box her ears.

When the carriage pulled to a stop, Viserys held his breath. Your father was the first to step out, offering his hand to someone inside. Viserys was struck dumb when he saw you step down from the carriage, smiling at your father. There was absolutely no way this was the same person that visited him every summer. How had he not noticed how beautiful you'd become?

Your eyes met his and you held your head high as you approached on your father's arm. Your gaze never wavered while you greeted Viserys' family. "Good day, Prince Viserys. It is lovely to see you again," you told him softly with a curtsy. Viserys barely managed to bow before you were all swept up into the castle for preparations for the welcoming feast for the evening.

The feast was, as always, a beautiful and probably over-done affair. But Viserys made it through, his gaze often making its way over to where you were sitting. Whenever you caught him looking, you'd given him a soft smile before going back to your meal. Viserys wanted to speak to you, but he had to wait. When it was finally time to begin the traditional after-feast dance, Viserys couldn't get to you quickly enough.

"Princess," he greeted before sweeping you up in his arms as the music started. For a moment, the two of you were quiet and then began making small talk. All-in-all, things were going well until Viserys made a comment about how beautiful you were. "Thank you, though I suppose that isn't a good enough reason to suddenly be happy about our arrangement."

"And why not? Why should my future queen not be beautiful?" You rolled your eyes. "Beauty isn't what makes a queen, Viserys." Viserys' brows furrowed. "Well, what else is there?" You suddenly stopped dancing and shook your head. "You are an idiot, Viserys. A complete and utter idiot."

With that, you ran off and no one saw you the rest of the evening. In fact, no one saw you the entirety of the next day either. It wasn't until evening that it was discovered that you were missing. The state of your chambers indicated that you had not gone willingly. Viserys instantly saw red. Someone had the audacity to sneak into your chambers and take you from him?! And where the hells were the guards when this happened?! Viserys was livid, executing the two guards that were supposed to be guarding you and your chambers. When he anger was finally spent, Viserys set out to find you.

*time skip*

Viserys spent weeks looking for you. Weeks! And there was nary a sign of you. Viserys was beginning to lose hope and when Viserys lost hope, people suffered. As he searched, Viserys realized why his family and yours had insisted on this arrangement and the summers spent together. You were the only one able to calm Viserys' temper. You could make him see sense. You were the compassionate one. You were everything a queen needed to be. Not just beautiful.

After another long day of searching, Viserys came to a clearing with a lake sitting in the middle. The moon was reflecting off the lake as Viserys sat down on a nearby bench. "Where are you, Y/N?" As expected, no answer came to him. Just a lone swan swooping in and landing on the lake. The swan stared at Viserys, making him a little nervous. That wasn't normal behavior for birds. Was it? Viserys didn't have a chance to think about it when a faint light hit his eyes.

The light grew brighter. So bright that Viserys had to shield his eyes. When he brought his hand down, Viserys was once again speechless. "You came for me," your voice was soft and tears welled up in your eyes. There you were, in the place the swan had just been. Viserys whispered your name and stood up. He barely had time to brace himself before you crashed into him.

"Y/N? What happened to you? Are you hurt?" You pulled away a little and Viserys missed the warmth of having you close. "H-He took me. And awful sorcerer used magic to get into the palace and took me. He's trying to force me to marry him so he can take my father's throne. When I refused, he turned me into a swan. I can become human again when the moonlight hits the lake. That's when he comes to ask me for my hand again."

"He cast a spell on you? Where is he? I'll tear him apart with my bare hands if I have to!" You placed your hand over his mouth and shushed him. "He'll hear you. You can't take him, Viserys. He's too powerful. You'll need the element of surprise. He may have magic but he is not a strong fighter like you." A voice calling your name had suddenly had you jumping away from him.

"You have to go. Go back to the castle and come up with a plan. Any plan. The spell should break if he's dead. Go now. Before he sees you." Viserys wanted to argue, but seeing the fear in your eyes made him do what you said. It was the first time Viserys had ever seen you afraid and that was enough to scare even him a little bit. So he did what you said and returned to the castle to plan a strategy. He would save you. He had to save you.

A few days later, Viserys had his plan and he made his way back through the forest to the clearing with the lake. However, as soon as he set foot in the dark wood, something felt wrong. There was something heavy in the air and a feeling of dread came over him.

Viserys tried to brush it off, but as he pushed forward, the feeling grew. Without even seeing you, Viserys knew you were in danger. He picked up his pace only to stop short when he heard a voice, raspy and eerily calm, calling through the air. "Hurry, little prince. Hurry and I might let you see her one last time." Viserys shook his head to rid himself of the voice, but it simply kept calling to him.

"You thought you could outwit me, but I cannot be so easily defeated. Your princess is dying because of your foolishness." Viserys felt his heart beginning to race and he forced his feet to carry him onward toward the lake. He could feel tree branches cutting at his face and nearly getting tangled in his hair, but he paid it no mind. He would worry about his vanity later. You were his priority. Well, you and making the sorcerer pay dearly for taking you. You were Viserys' and NO ONE took what was his. At least that's how he viewed it in his head. He'd never say that out loud to you. You'd probably slap him.

Finally, just as Viserys was about to give up hope, he broke through the trees to the clearing. Your captor was there, a gloating smile on his face. He didn't look like much. In a physical match, Viserys could easily overpower him. Still, he radiated power like Viserys had never felt before. But the dragon was never one to back down from a fight and this time, the stakes were higher than ever.

"Where is she?" he growled out. The sorcerer simply laughed before stepping to the side slightly. The lone swan laid on the ground, breath hitching more and more every second. You were really dying. "What did you do?!" Viserys shrieked and the sorcerer's disgusting grin grew. "You did this. You and the princess. You could have simply given me what I wanted and this wouldn't have happened. But no. You had to go behind my back. Now, she is dying and there is nothing you can do."

If there was one thing Viserys could not standing, it was losing. The only thing worse than defeat in his eyes was his enemy gloating about the fact. Rage consumed him. Viserys felt hot. Fire welled within him and he was not aware of what was happening until it was too late. The sorcerer screamed in fear as Viserys screamed in agony. His bones were shifting. His skin was changing. Sharp talons grew where nails once were. Wings sprouted from his back. A dragon. A true dragon.

The sorcerer was quicker to react the changes in Viserys, firing some magic spell or other at him. It hit Viserys and the dragon let out a screech of pain. He glanced down at your still form. Fueled on by his need to save you, Viserys steeled his nerves and did the only thing he could think of. He blew fire and before he knew it, the sorcerer was gone. Nothing but a pile of ash.

Once his enemy was gone, Viserys looked at you. No longer a swan, your body was still not moving. Where there was once anger, grief hit Viserys like a sudden storm. His wings and scales disappeared, his limbs shrank back, and the fire in his belly was gone.

As soon as he was back on the ground in his human form, Viserys was at your side. "Y/N?" He scooped you up in his arms and held you to him. For the first time in his life, Viserys felt his eyes filling with tears at the thought of losing you for good.

"You were right," he whispered though it was difficult for him, "There is so much more to marriage and being queen than being beautiful. And you are more than just beautiful. You are everything I ever wanted. Come back to me. As your future king and your husband-to-be, I demand you come back to me." He held you closer to him.

"Who gave you permission to order me around?" your voice rasped out. Viserys let his arms drop a little and he looked at your face to see your beautiful eyes staring back up at him. "You're alive." You nodded and smiled as you tried to sit up a little. "Thanks to you. I guess you really are a dragon." Viserys chuckled. You wrapped your arms around him.

"I love you, Viserys. So much." He didn't reply, but held you more tightly as if he were afraid to let you go. After a moment, you released him so you could look at him again. This time, your face was stern. "But seriously, don't think that just because we're to be married that it means you can order me around!" Viserys shook his head fondly and then captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

(a/n: Okay, so I had this ready over the weekend and just completely forgot to post it because I'm silly. That means you'll get 2 tales this week. These will be the only things I post during my hiatus since they're for a celebration. Anyway, I hope you liked it!)

[jonahlovescoffee]

Hi! I hope you are well : ) So, I was trying to think of an idea and then I saw the title on your blog - loving can hurt sometimes- and that kind of gave me an idea...Maybe one of the wdw boys is in a relationship with the reader, y/n, and they hit a rough patch and things are kind of hanging on a thread. Neither of them know whether it's going to work out. Hope this inspires you! I'll send some more if I can think of something.

Grey | J.M.

a/n: @randomlimelightxxx thanks so much for sending in an ask <33333 and I’m sorry for replying to it this late :( i love love love your idea!!! but i hope u don’t mind if i make it a little sadder (◐‿◑) whoops. 

(ps: this turned out worse than i hoped but i do hope you like it)

summary: a happy ending isn’t always guaranteed, even when you love someone with every fibre of your being, because life isn’t a fairytale.

warnings: angst

word count: 2517

“i can’t believe i let you go.”

Jonah doesn’t know for sure how long he has been staring at the framed photograph that has been hanging on the living room wall for as long as he can remember. It was taken during one of the few 4th of July celebrations that you both had celebrated together. In the picture, your smile was brighter than ever, even brighter than the fireworks that were bursting through the dark night behind you, fiery blooms amongst the stars. He had an arm around your shoulders, his green orbs looking at you lovingly as you took the selfie.

Both of you seemed so happy back then—something you both hadn’t felt in a long time, even before your dramatic fallout. You were going strong, weren’t you? Both of you used to be the poster children of the perfect couple — you had each other backs and lifted each other up when the going got tough, which led you to believe that nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But life did. When his career started to blow up, your relationship with him did too.

Every time he closes his eyes; the vivid memory of the horrible night months ago starts to play before him like a movie.

#

“Jonah Marais Roth Frantzich, have you been drinking again?” You tore your eyes away from the TV and directed it towards him instead when you heard the sound of the door opening then closing, followed by the rattling of keys as he threw it into the small box beside the door. The stench of alcohol filled your apartment almost immediately, indicating that he had a heavy intake of whatever alcoholic drink he consumed at the party.

He didn’t answer, or even bat an eye at you as he made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your blood boiled upon being ignored by him. You glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3am. This was the latest he had ever been home after attending a party, which was something he had been doing almost every day lately.

You hated his new habit of getting absolutely wrecked after every party, and he knew that too. He also knew that you hated him getting too friendly with the alluring LA models that were up to no good, as much as you hated him spending most of his time on his job, resulting with him neglecting you far too often for your liking, until you guys were basically nothing more than strangers living under the same roof.

He knew many things, but he never cared, because those were the requirements of his job — to constantly socialize and make music — so he thought that you’ll understand but from the look of the annoyed scowl on your face, that didn’t seem to be the case tonight.

“Jonah, answer me,” you ordered sternly from where you sat on the couch in the living room.

He didn’t know whether if it’s the fault of the alcohol that was coursing through his veins or the fact that both of you hadn’t really talked in days (maybe months) had started to drive him over the edge, but he found your displeasure oddly infuriating, although he knew you were merely looking out for him.

You are his girlfriend, not his fucking mother. 

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” he seethed and you seemed taken aback by his reply. At least that’ll shut you up for now.

He placed the cup into the sink with a greater force than he intended before leaving the kitchen to head towards the master bedroom, trying his best to ignore your accusing glare that was still boring into his back and hold back the rest of the harsh words that was threatening to spill out of his mouth.

He knew he was drunk and he didn’t want to say anything that he would regret later in the morning so staying silent was currently the best option. Everything would return to normal the next day once you forgot about this, like you always had for the past few weeks. The tension would be gone and you both would return to playing the role of a lovey-dovey couple that, unbeknownst to others, barely talked in what felt like forever.

But you had other plans. You weren’t letting this matter go this easily. This had been going on for too long. You had enough of his immature behaviour that was gradually driving a wedge between the two of you. You wanted -- no, needed -- this to stop right now, for his own good and yours.

You wanted the old Jonah back -- the Jonah who’d walk to the ends of the world for you, who’d join you in bed at night to ask about your day and who’d put you as his first priority. You walked briskly towards him and captured his wrist in your hand.

“I’m your girlfriend, Jonah, and I have the right to hold you accountable for your dumb actions,” you purposely emphasized on the three words that you knew would get on his nerves. You wanted him to talk, to explain why he was suddenly so obsessed with getting drunk. Was he stressed? Was something bothering him? 

Once again, you received no answer from him.

“Drinking is bad for your health, Jonah,” you softened your tone, just by a little. “And you barely get enough sleep recently, it’s--”

“Just shut up for once, can you?” He jerked your hand away. “Always ‘Jonah don’t do this’, ‘Jonah don’t do that’ like I am some kind of dumb baby that needs help. Just so you know, I’m a grown man who is perfectly capable of making my own decisions, mind you.”

This was the first time Jonah had ever raised his voice at you. You tried not to let his words get to you, you tried to convince yourself that it was the alcohol talking for him but tears ended up welling up in your eyes anyways. You held them back as you continued to speak. 

“I was just trying to advise—”

“I said shut the fuck up! Even if I do need help, I won’t be asking it from the likes of you!” Before you could react, the glass vase that was once placed beside the TV went flying against the wall behind you, shattering into a million pieces.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jonah?” You cried out, your hands fisting the front material of his shirt. “What the heck was that for?”

“Get off me, you psycho!” he pried your hands off him and pushed you away forcefully, making you stumble backwards and fall to the ground due to your loss of footing.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably now. “You’ve changed. The old Jonah will never do this to me,” you stood up, wiping off your tears with the back of your hand.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t know me well enough.”

“You know what?” You were jabbing your finger on his chest. “If this is the real you, maybe I shouldn’t have dated you in the first place,” you shouted at him.

“Fine, don’t date me then! Maybe I finally can live a lot more freely without your constant nagging!”

Your breathing stopped for a moment and you swore his did too. Silence ensued, the only sound being the tv that you forgot to turn off before the fight.

Shit. He said too much.

When you finally came back to your senses, you pushed pass him to make your way into the bedroom, pulling out your luggage and set it open on the bed.

“You should’ve told me earlier that you didn’t want me in your life,” you said breathlessly as you proceeded to dump all your clothes into your luggage before slamming it shut, ignoring his pleas for you to stop.

“No, baby, I don’t mean what I said,” he grabbed your arm and you flinched at his touch. That was how he knew he messed up. Badly. “Let’s just forget—”

“I’m so done with always sweeping our problems under the carpet and pretend like they don’t exist, Jonah!” You yelled frustratedly. “Let me ask you, when was the last time we had a heart-to-heart talk, Jonah? When was the last time we had a peaceful meal together without arguing? When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?”

He couldn’t answer any of your questions.

“Can’t you see it? We haven’t been a couple for quite a while now,” you explained, pulling your closed luggage out of the room towards the front door, not forgetting to pick up your purse along the way. “What happened just now was just one more sign that we,” you gestured between the both of you, “are not meant for each other so maybe it’s for the best if we break up.”

“No, please, no,” he fell to his knees before you, his hands moving to grasp your arm. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. Please.”

“I’m not wasting any second more of my life with you,” you spat mercilessly in his face. “Now let go.”

“No, please, stay with me, baby,” he continued to beg, the grip on your hand unfaltering.

“I’m sorry,” you said and felt his grip loosen at the two simple words. He knew there was no point in holding on once you already made up your mind. “Goodbye, Jonah.”

You yanked your arm away and walked out the door, not looking back, leaving a distressed male behind, in tears.

Yes, Jonah remembers everything from that night, especially the slam of the door behind you as you walked out of his apartment and his life, forever.

And he is the one to blame.

#

Fast forward to the present, he misses you so much that he is starting to lose his mind.

He thinks about you so often that sometimes he forgets that you aren’t his anymore. He still finds himself reaching out to what used to be your side of the bed the first thing in the morning, only to find it cold and empty; he still looks forward to coming home from work every day to run into your arms that used to be his safe haven, only to be reminded by his quiet house that your laughter, your kisses, your touches are luxuries that he can no longer afford, no matter how wealthy he is.

You gave him a chance—scratch that, you have kind-heartedly given him countless chances in the past for him to make up for his mistakes, to prove to you that loving him was worth all the suffering, but all he did was disappoint you over and over again by choosing to walk away from you when his career was at stake.

It wasn’t until you were gone that he noticed all those valuable chances that have unknowingly passed him by.

He runs a hand through his hair and heaves a sigh, throwing his head back so that he is mindlessly staring at the ceiling.

He was cowardly fool, for putting his needs above the person who he swore to love till the end of time, for giving up when he should’ve fought a little harder to preserve what’s left of their love, for doing nothing as the distance between them grew by leaps and bounds until you eventually slipped out of his grasp into nothingness.

Most importantly, he was the world’s biggest idiot to ever think that he can live without you.

He knows that he should stop missing you; he knows that he should forget the past, or at least lock all the fond memories he had built with you into a box and shove it into the darkest, deepest corners of his mind, not to be opened ever again; he knows that he should move on, like you already did.

But “I know” and “I can” are two completely different things. Yes, he is terribly exhausted from holding onto the past, holding onto you, even as he feels the remaining shred of hope that you might one day return to him slowly diminish as days passed but at the same time, he is still too in love to let you go.

Therefore, for what seems like the thousandth time that month, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and dials your number that is still marked as favourites in his contact list. As expected, the call goes to voicemail right away, after your recorded voice says, “Sorry, I can’t come to the phone at the moment but feel free to leave a message instead!” in a cheerful tone, as if you are mocking him for not being able to talk with you like he used to anymore.

After the beep, Jonah hesitates a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He has no idea where to start. He knows a simple ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix everything, for the pain you had endured because of him is definitely not worth to be forgiven with a simple two-syllable-word. He contemplates if he should end the call, like what he has done for the past thousand times.

No, he has spent too much time dwelling in his misery without making any effort to win you back It’s about time he at least tries to start a proper conversation with you because even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings, you still deserve an apology from him.

“Hi,” he breathed nervously. “How are you? I know I should not be trying to contact you after what I did to you that night but,”

A pause.

“It’s not the same here without you, y/n. I miss your cooking, your terrible singing voice, your hilarious pep talks – hell, I even miss your long boring lectures whenever I forgot to wash the dishes,” he smiles a little at the memory.

“And I’m sorry, I really am, for ruining everything. I know it’s not enough but it’s true. Not a day passes where I don’t regret what I did to you that night and all the mistakes that I’ve made before that.”

“Please baby, give me one more chance to make it right. Just one more, please. Come back, be here with me because,” another pause.

He searches his brain for the right words to say, rubbing his temples with his fingers as his mind whirs.

Because of you, his life used to be filled with endless love and laughter. Your love was like the warm daylight, illuminating his world in golden, chasing away all the darkness. You painted his life with the vibrant colors of the rainbow whereas now that you’re gone, everyday it rains, the previous sunshine you provided long gone. He should’ve never let you go. With a swipe of his tongue over his trembling dry lips, he finishes his sentence before he decides to chicken out.

“Because I still love you. Without you, now everything’s grey.”

[a-person-who-likes-musicals]

I'm too young to know, you say.

You're right,

I'm too young,

Too young to be called slurs weekly,

Too young to be mature enough for it all.

Too young to hate who I have to be,

Too young to be forced into arbitrary rules.

Too young for self hatred,

Not from my identity, but it's repression.

You're right,

I'm not mature enough.

Let me turn this dial,

It's marked "emotions."

Let's just, turn that off.

Oh, now I'm too distant.

Oh well, I'm not feeling much about that.

Never the right balance,

For either me or you.

I'm too dramatic,

Let me fix that as you yell.

"Robot."

Are you referring to me?

Welp.

See that energy drink,

I consume caffeine instead of electricity.

I read textbooks and study years ahead,

Like a learning computer.

"Nerd."

They call me.

Yet I'm but an ignoramus in your eyes,

Never enough.

All you do is recite books and musicals,

Sorry, ich bin nicht was Sie gesucht.

Did I mention I'm learning a 2nd language?

I play a instrument,

But alas, doesn't count.

Remember when you threatened my Sax?

You said you would throw it away,

Because I wanted to quit gymnastics.

"Your just misremembering it."

No,

I'm not.

I remember every time you shouted at me,

Every "why can't you just be normal."

Every "Your ADHD is showing, stop it."

Every "stop being attention seeking."

All of these names have stung,

Deeply.

But eventually I accept them,

Welcome them.

Robots are smart, collecting data on how to act.

Emotions are overrated anyways.

Only to be shared with a select few,

Then bury them deep inside.

I am who I say I am,

And yet never seen as a young man by others.

Let me speak in terms that say my point,

Fuck your opinions of me.

I decide who I am,

Molding the person I'll become.

Angry with me,

Take a ticket and wait in line.

I'll be here,

Studying for high school.

Anyways,

My point is.

I'm too young,

Too young for the tragedies of life.

Life doesn't care though,

So I see it anyways.

So pardon my disrespect,

I offer my condolences.

Now, I'm done being sappy and emotional.

You may be wondering why the switch?

As you said,

"People your age are more mature."

Ordinarily I would hate that,

Letting you be proven correct.

Lately, I've found apathy a good tool.

Or so it's been so far.

Is this short writing helpful?

Studies show writing helps verbalization.

Why did I try to verbalize, you ask.

How I feel, no, how life goes.

Overt things like emotions get in the way.

It's complicated you say, not really.

Always with that phrase,

"Minds inherently do emotions," falsehood.

.

I am too young,

At least so you state.

So don't be what your talking about,

What causes the issues.

Who is the causation of scary statistics,

Your evidence against my argument.

Well, only one side is arguing anymore,

And its not me.

Silence stronger than shouting here,

Proving you wrong.

I'm who I always was,

I just got bad at acting.

[liljungie]

MVP | Jeon Jungkook | AU 3

Pairing: [ soccer player] jungkook x reader

Warnings: angst | slight smut

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Masterlist

_

How am I gonna get out of this?!

Panic rush through me as I look anywhere but her,It's not like I can say it was raining because the weather today was extremely sunny not a single cloud in the sky.

So that was out of the question and I started to think of anything that I could pass the blame on other than the weather.

"Well.." i scratch the back of my head suddenly every word I know vanished into thin air, making it impossible to form a sentence she looked at me waiting "Uh..jimin" I clap my hands together as I speak to grab her attention " p-pulled another prank on me" I said the first words that came to mind hoping they came out clearly "oh you poor thing! I'll tell kookie to talk to him you're a lady jimin can't treat you like that!" She huffed in annoyance.

Ugh why is she so nice? I can see why Jungkook fell for her...if only she wasn't so damn nice to me maybe I'd hate her enough to push away the guilt.

"I-It's okay- really.. jimin and I joke like that a lot he's only getting back at me for putting powdered peppers in his boxers.." I tried to laugh at the end but it came out so awkward and well...fake. but she luckily went with it "Oh that's mean" she says with a scowl on her face "not gonna lie I was weirded out seeing you in my boyfriend's Jersey"she laughed nervously, "but I think Jungkook witnessed what happened" she smiled laughing at the end which I assume she was laughing at the situation or me..

I felt a lump in my throat form I went pale at her words, my hands start to sweat so I quickly rub them against my jeans laughing along with her.

"I gotta go shower now bye!" I yell behind me walking fast to my room so I avoid any more questions "yeah you smell like semin...jimin is so mean" I hear her yell after me

I cringe as I hear her words "I'm sorry jimin" I say to one one, under my breath as I close the door behind me letting out a sigh of relief but deep down guilt ate away at me...

///

A week passed, I hadn't seen Jungkook since that day.

he didn't even try to reach me so I didn't bother either, my heart was mayhem but maybe not seeing him was for the better.

Even though it tore me apart inside.

My exams and assignments took most of my time, I barely had time for myself anyway.

I was chilling in my room in the afternoon writing an essay I had to hand in Monday while listening to music.

It was finally the weekend I'm done with my exams but I had a few things to hand out still and I finally got around it.

I faintly hear a knock on my door and pause the song and slide my chair over to the door opening it.

To find her, dressed nicely make up and hair done to perfection, she smiled at me "Jungkook is taking me on a date!" She squealed as my heart dropped.

she pushed the door more open and twirled in the middle of my room, her yellow dress was just above her knees, making her glow like a star "how do I look?!" She smiled as she looked me in the eyes waiting for my answer.

"Stunning" I replied my face drained of color I swolled the lump in my throat heat prickling down my neck as I stare at her, hurt evident on my features, she was checking herself on the tall mirror I had beside my desk.

He was taking her out on a date? A date?!

My mind was still processing what she said, so he does have free time to take her on dates but not text me at all?! Not even once this whole week!

"Really?!" She squealed once again, she was so happy seems like even gravity couldn't hold her down she was skipping with happiness.

The things I'd do to be her...

I only nodded my head, I felt like a shook up can of soda that was going to burst soon, with glossy eyes I tried to keep looking at her but I couldn't. I turned away.

"I have been dying to spend time with him now that my exams are over I'm gonna be by his side every single day" she says her eyes glowing. Probably day dreaming about the 'date'

"Mhm that's nice" I say as I slide my chair back to my desk, I didn't know I was crying, I curse under my breath. I can't let her see me.

"Oh I'm sorry if I disturbed you" she finally noticed that I was studying and turned to me thankfully my hair covered the side of my head so she couldn't see my face "I'll leave you now so you can study okay?" She giggled and walked to the door opening it slowly

"Fighting _____!" She shouted her fist in the air cheering me on as if that would make it easier I only sent her a small smile with a nod then my eyes went back on the screen the letters were so blurry.

"oh and I'm spending the weekend at his place so don't wait for me!" She giggled, I felt my chest tighten as I heard her say that, seconds passed and I heard my bedroom door closed shut. Finally.

I let out a sigh that felt like a sob I tried to distract myself by writing more, I turned up the volume of the music I tied my hair up to cool me down. frustrated I let it fall on my shoulders...nothing worked.

Nothing could shut my thoughts off, all I could think of was her in his arms, in his lap, kissing and touching him.

I could see images of him kissing and holding her like he held me...

"_____ I'm leaving now bye!" I heard her faintly yell from the living room breaking me away from my trance a few moments of silence and right when I heard her shut the apartment door close. I threw my phone at the mirror she was infront of minutes ago it all shattered along with my phone screaming in frustration I fell to the floor sobbing.

he consumed every inch of me he took over every part of me, and it's my falut that I let him get to me this way.

This close.

I felt my body burn and ache until I couldn't feel anything anymore and sleep took over me.

///

I woke up to banging on the door I sat up, confused, I looked around I was on the floor in the middle of my room I looked at the watch on the wall it read 12 am.

I must have slept for a long time.

I heard the banging again but louder this time oh so I wasn't dreaming? I wanted to yell her name so she could open the door instead but I remembered...everything.

I found it hard to stand up, or seems like my heart couldn't bare to do anything I'm so out of it, I feel so numb and so hurt. That even standing was too much for me to take.

I made my way to the door. in the dark living room I turned on the spot lights to provide a bit of light in so I could see better, my eyes were swollen from how much I cried and my vision is still blurry from the tears.I move my hair out of my face as I walk to the door slowly.

I open the door and there he stood.

Jungkook.

He sighs relieved and pulls me towards him.

"Oh my fucking God I was so afraid" he says, holding me tighter.

I was astonished I must be dreaming this, this can't be... she was over at his place how did he get out?

He pulled away and looked at me almost analyzing my face "I was so worried!" He tells me "I called you so many times why didn't you pick up?!" He scolds his grip on my arms was tight

He did?

How come it's ringing didn't wake me up?

Then I remember how I threw it at the mirror and I don't know if it was still working for not, I need a new phone for sure it seems.

I pull away and he looked at me hurt that I pushed him lightly off of me "you didn't text or call this whole week why does it suddenly matter?" I ask raising my eyebrows, arms crossed as I look up at him waiting for the answer that I longed for this whole week.

"_____" he sighed as he rubbed his temple "I'm sorry I couldn't I was dealing with a lot" he stated, clearly he didn't want to talk about it so I dropped the topic because I just don't think it matters anymore. It won't go anywhere because if there's one thing I'm sure of is jungkook keeps to himself and there's no way you'll ever get something out of him.

"Why you were waiting for me to call you?" A playful grin on his features, I stop in my tracks and turn around looking at him in disbelief, is this what he thought of me? who am I kidding this is all I'm ever gonna be for him. Just for pleasure. He can disappear for as long as he wants and expects me to wait for him.

"Not at all..I could care less about you" I say avoiding his eyes walking slowly back to my room until suddenly I'm turned face to face with him "stop avoiding me!" He harshly tells me, his eyes stare into mine and I feel my body give up on me and surrender to his touch.

His gaze was strong and the more he stared at me, his eyes softened"... you were crying weren't you baby?" He asks, His voice was so soft and quiet I felt my heart ignite with life agai, the way he was holding my face between his hands now tracing my cheeks with his thumbs soothingly.

"N-No I wasn't-"  I groggily reply only for him to sigh "you don't have to lie to m-"

"Why are you here?" I ask cutting him off, pushing him away harder this time. I saw the way his face fell "you don't want me here?" He asks "you left her to see me?" He swoalled and bite his lip "yes" he answers in heart beat "..I told her I forgot my text book at taehyung's...and I just...I just wanted to see you" I look at his eyes sparkle for some reason he had this look on his face that just screamed at me to take him in my arms.

I used all my power to resist that urge and I stepped back, I feel tears start in my eyes again "Jungkook..." I whimpered

My heart aches because I know what I was going to say but my heart wasn't in it "we have to stop this" I cried

His eyes went wide and his mouth opened with shock and disbelief "_____ you can't do this...not now-please just listen to me-" he walks forward,his arms reach for mine I walk away from him pushing him away from me "we can't anymore...my heart can't take it!" I shouted tears fall endlessly, his gaze was too strong for me so I look away

"What are you saying _____?!" He shouted angrily "why push me away now? Huh?" He cried "tell me why are you doing this to us!" My back hits the wall behind me his hands come up on each side Trapping me.

I feel the emotions bottle up and boil inside me until they spill and I'm left feeling numb I met his eyes and the words I said next shocked him and myself..

"I love you!" I cried "Jungkook I love you!" I pause "but I can't do this anymore!" I tell him wiping my tears as more fall "please understand- I can't bear it I just-"

His lips closed on mine shutting me up.

The kiss was deep not his needy lustful kisses this was different...he kissed me passionately.

"Let me change your mind- I know I can" he pulled away his forehead touching mine "please baby..you can't do this..you can't do this to me!" I felt his tears drip down on my cheeks, seeing him like this broke my heart completely I let out a cry "but Jungkook it's wrong.." I whisper "she's sound asleep in your bed and you're...here with me" I tell him "this is not fair to her...this isn't fair to me! you have no idea of the pain I'm going through..." I say as I place my hands ontop of his hands that were holding my cheeks he had his eyes closed his breathing is uneven and shaky.

"Do you think I'm not suffering too?" He says his eyes bore into mine and I see the pain I feel swim in his eyes too "do you think this isn't hurting me?" He whispered

I shake my head "then break up with her!" I say loudly, to get it through his thick head.

"I can't!" He shouts "I just can't bring myself to!" He looks away from me as I taste my tears and stare at him heartbroken.

I cry "but you can bring yourself to see me in tears begging you to stay away when I want you?" I laugh "do I mean anything to you at all? do you even care about me?" I yell "do you even love me?" I whimpered, my chest heaving up and down.

"Yes I do _____!" He yells back. We're facing each other "stop I beg of you!" he cried tugging on his hair "seeing you cry because of me hurts like hell!" he says backing me up against the wall "good!" I reply my eyes sharply stare into his making his eyebrows raise "you drive me insane _____" he tells me placing his hands beside each side of my head "why can't I stop thinking of you! You! And the way you talk! your body! your scent! Anywhere I go all I think of is you!" He punched a hole in the wall right next to my face "so don't you dare and say that you don't matter to me..you consume me whole and I can't stay away" he pulls me closer his hands on my hips "let me love you _____..." he whispers.

"Let me take care of you stop being so stubborn angel and let me...please _____" he whispers his eyes held so much lust behind I felt his bulge against my inner thigh he leaves trail of kisses on my neck, I whimper and push him away with the little force left in me he stares at me angry.

I swallow the lump in my throat when he walks towards me again "you're horny and that's the only reason you're here" I state he stops dead in his tracks his face inches away from mine "you're only here for pleasure nothing else" I continue "at first it was an honest mistake but then it turned into a habit then I thought you loved me because why would you keep coming back?" I snorted tears pool in my eyes but I don't let them fall.

He wasn't worth it anymore "Jungkook I'm nothing but a game to you" I whisper "and I want out" I turn away from him his grip on my wrist stops me from walking away and he turns me to face him "tell me what I can do to prove you wrong!" His eyes pierce through mine he licks his lips "tell me what to do!" He says louder

I pull my hand out of his and stare into him intensely "I told you what to do" I swallow "because we can't keep doing this I'm done" I tell him walking to my room and I shut the door behind me.

He stood still even after the door had been shut, he was speechless.

Anger took over him he wanted to break your door open and have his way with you but your message was loud and clear so he turned away and closed the apartment door shut after him not wanting to argue with you anymore.

________

A/N: Hey I feel really stumped with this imagine so I need your opinion please how should I carry this on? I'm sorry for any mistakes and for the short part your opinion on this matters so please help me out here!

[frankiefellinlove]

This is it! The whole article where John Landau writes that Bruce “is the future of rock n roll”. Long but so worth the read, to see that quote in context.

GROWING YOUNG WITH ROCK AND ROLL

By Jon Landau

The Real Paper

May 22, 1974📷

It's four in the morning and raining. I'm 27 today, feeling old, listening to my records, and remembering that things were diffferent a decade ago. In 1964, I was a freshman at Brandeis University, playing guitar and banjo five hours a day, listening to records most of the rest of the time, jamming with friends during the late-night hours, working out the harmonies to Beach Boys' and Beatles' songs.

Real Paper soul writer Russell Gersten was my best friend and we would run through the 45s everyday: Dionne Warwick's "Walk On By" and "Anyone Who Had A Heart," the Drifters' "Up On the Roof," Jackie Ross' "Selfish One," the Marvellettes' "Too Many Fish in the Sea," and the one that no one ever forgets, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' "Heat Wave." Later that year a special woman named Tamar turned me onto Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour" and Otis Redding's "Respect," and then came the soul. Meanwhile, I still went to bed to the sounds of the Byrds' "Mr. Tambourine Man" and later "Younger than Yesterday," still one of my favorite good-night albums. I woke up to Having a Rave-Up with the Yardbirds instead of coffee. And for a change of pace, there was always bluegrass: The Stanley Brothers, Bill Monroe, and Jimmy Martin.

Through college, I consumed sound as if it were the staff of life. Others enjoyed drugs, school, travel, adventure. I just liked music: listening to it, playing it, talking about it. If some followed the inspiration of acid, or Zen, or dropping out, I followed the spirit of rock'n'roll.

Individual songs often achieved the status of sacraments. One September, I was driving through Waltham looking for a new apartment when the sound on the car radio stunned me. I pulled over to the side of the road, turned it up, demanded silence of my friends and two minutes and fifty-six second later knew that God had spoken to me through the Four Tops' "Reach Out, I'll Be There," a record that I will cherish for as long as [I] live.

During those often lonely years, music was my constant companion and the search for the new record was like a search for a new friend and new revelation. "Mystic Eyes" open mine to whole new vistas in white rock and roll and there were days when I couldn't go to sleep without hearing it a dozen times.

Whether it was a neurotic and manic approach to music, or just a religious one, or both, I don't really care. I only know that, then, as now, I'm grateful to the artists who gave the experience to me and hope that I can always respond to them.

The records were, of course, only part of it. In '65 and '66 I played in a band, the Jellyroll, that never made it. At the time I concluded that I was too much of a perfectionist to work with the other band members; in the end I realized I was too much of an autocrat, unable to relate to other people enough to share music with them.

Realizing that I wasn't destined to play in a band, I gravitated to rock criticism. Starting with a few wretched pieces in Broadside and then some amateurish but convincing reviews in the earliest Crawdaddy, I at least found a substitute outlet for my desire to express myself about rock: If I couldn't cope with playing, I may have done better writing about it.

But in those days, I didn't see myself as a critic -- the writing was just another extension of an all-encompassing obsession. It carried over to my love for live music, which I cared for even more than the records. I went to the Club 47 three times a week and then hunted down the rock shows -- which weren't so easy to find because they weren't all conveniently located at downtown theatres. I flipped for the Animals' two-hour show at Rindge Tech; the Rolling Stones, not just at Boston Garden, where they did the best half hour rock'n'roll set I had ever seen, but at Lynn Football Stadium, where they started a riot; Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels overcoming the worst of performing conditions at Watpole Skating Rink; and the Beatles at Suffolk Down, plainly audible, beatiful to look at, and confirmation that we -- and I -- existed as a special body of people who understood the power and the flory of rock'n'roll.

I lived those days with a sense of anticipation. I worked in Briggs & Briggs a few summers and would know when the next albums were coming. The disappointment when the new Stones was a day late, the exhilaration when Another Side of Bob Dylan showed up a week early. The thrill of turning on WBZ and hearing some strange sound, both beautiful and horrible, but that demanded to be heard again; it turned out to be "You've Lost That Loving Feeling," a record that stands just behind "Reach Out I'll Be There" as means of musical catharsis.

My temperament being what it is, I often enjoyed hating as much as loving. That San Francisco shit corrupted the purity of the rock that I lvoed and I could have led a crusade against it. The Moby Grape moved me, but those songs about White Rabbits and hippie love made me laugh when they didn't make me sick. I found more rock'n'roll in the dubbed-in hysteria on the Rolling Stones Got Live if You Want It than on most San Francisco albums combined.

For every moment I remember there are a dozen I've forgotten, but I feel like they are with me on a night like this, a permanent part of my consciousness, a feeling lost on my mind but never on my soul. And then there are those individual experiences so transcendent that I can remember them as if they happened yesterday: Sam and Dave at the Soul Together at Madison Square Garden in 1967: every gesture, every movement, the order of the songs. I would give anything to hear them sing "When Something's Wrong with My Baby" just the way they did it that night.

The obsessions with Otis Redding, Jerry Butler, and B.B. King came a little bit later; each occupied six months of my time, while I digested every nuance of every album. Like the Byrds, I turn to them today and still find, when I least expect it, something new, something deeply flet, something that speaks to me.

As I left college in 1969 and went into record production I started exhausting my seemingly insatiable appetite. I felt no less intensely than before about certain artists; I just felt that way about fewer of them. I not only became more discriminating but more indifferent. I found it especially hard to listen to new faces. I had accumulated enough musical experience to fall back on when I needed its companionship but during this period in my life I found I needed music less and people, whom I spend too much of my life ignoring, much more.

Today I listen to music with a certain measure of detachment. I'm a professional and I make my living commenting on it. There are months when I hate it, going through the routine just as a shoe salesman goes through his. I follow films with the passion that music once held for me. But in my own moments of greatest need, I never give up the search for sounds that can answer every impulse, consume all emotion, cleanse and purify -- all things that we have no right to expect from even the greatest works of art but which we can occasionally derive from them.

Still, today, if I hear a record I like it is no longer a signal for me to seek out every other that the artist has made. I take them as they come, love them, and leave them. Some have stuck -- a few that come quickly to mind are Neil Young's After the Goldrush, Stevie Wonder's Innervisions, Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey, James Taylor's records, Valerie Simpson's Exposed, Randy Newman's Sail Away, Exile on Main Street, Ry Cooder's records, and, very specially, the last three albums of Joni Mitchell -- but many more slip through the mind, making much fainter impressions than their counterparts of a decade ago.

But tonight there is someone I can write of the way I used to write, without reservations of any kind. Last Thursday, at the Harvard Square theatre, I saw my rock'n'roll past flash before my eyes. And I saw something else: I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen. And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time.

When his two-hour set ended I could only think, can anyone really be this good; can anyone say this much to me, can rock'n'roll still speak with this kind of power and glory? And then I felt the sores on my thighs where I had been pounding my hands in time for the entire concert and knew that the answer was yes.

Springsteen does it all. He is a rock'n'roll punk, a Latin street poet, a ballet dancer, an actor, a joker, bar band leader, hot-shit rhythm guitar player, extraordinary singer, and a truly great rock'n'roll composer. He leads a band like he has been doing it forever. I racked my brains but simply can't think of a white artist who does so many things so superbly. There is no one I would rather watch on a stage today. He opened with his fabulous party record "The E Street Shuffle" -- but he slowed it down so graphically that it seemed a new song and it worked as well as the old. He took his overpowering story of a suicide, "For You," and sang it with just piano accompaniment and a voice that rang out to the very last row of the Harvard Square theatre. He did three new songs, all of them street trash rockers, one even with a "Telstar" guitar introduction and an Eddie Cochran rhythm pattern. We missed hearing his "Four Winds Blow," done to a fare-thee-well at his sensational week-long gig at Charley's but "Rosalita" never sounded better and "Kitty's Back," one of the great contemporary shuffles, rocked me out of my chair, as I personally led the crowd to its feet and kept them there.

Bruce Springsteen is a wonder to look at. Skinny, dressed like a reject from Sha Na Na, he parades in front of his all-star rhythm band like a cross between Chuck Berry, early Bob Dylan, and Marlon Brando. Every gesture, every syllable adds something to his ultimate goal -- to liberate our spirit while he liberates his by baring his soul through his music. Many try, few succeed, none more than he today.

It's five o'clock now -- I write columns like this as fast as I can for fear I'll chicken out -- and I'm listening to "Kitty's Back." I do feel old but the record and my memory of the concert has made me feel a little younger. I still feel the spirit and it still moves me.

I bought a new home this week and upstairs in the bedroom is a sleeping beauty who understands only too well what I try to do with my records and typewriter. About rock'n'roll, the Lovin' Spoonful once sang, "I'll tell you about the magic that will free your soul/But it's like trying to tell a stranger about rock'n'roll." Last Thursday, I remembered that the magic still exists and as long as I write about rock, my mission is to tell a stranger about it -- just as long as I remember that I'm the stranger I'm writing for.

[inkprintedfox]

OC Study

Tagged by @advena87 to fill out -THIS- OC question prompt.

I tag @starsandskies @1orweth @kanawolf

This is time consuming so I can understand if you guys don't want to do it, so no pressure. I spent roughly a week and a half, almost two weeks on this? No regrets, mostly took so long for me because I work full time and I tend to space out a lot and ramble. Lol

It is quite a bit of fun and a good exercise to help develop your characters so I do recommend It! Don't recommend doing more than three OCs at a time though, three was hard for me and usually I'm an over-achiever. Go easy and dont burn yourself out! Also would be a good exercise if you're writing with a canon character and want to get a handle on working with them.

I wanted to answer this in character originally but it would have been twice as long and probably taken me a month or more. 😅 Perhaps I'll do something like that one day....

Dragon Age OCs per usual for me.

Warden-Commander and Hero of Fereldan (DAO & DAOA)

Growing up in the Denerim Alienage has made Feiell a very bitter, angry, and agressive person. Biting and scrabbling to survive she also had to fight to keep her family and neighbors safe from the rich humans that liked to exploit the destitute elves. She gained a reputation as a protector but also a very hard woman.

She redibly accepted her conscription into the Grey Wardens, not only to escape the persecution of the law, but also to escape the narrow world of the Alianage. Collecting the people that would later be affectionately called "The Blight Brigade" exposed her to many new adventures as well as lifelong friendships, love, and personal growth that could not have happened otherwise.

The Champion of Kirkwall (DA2)

Laid-back, vain, and honestly somewhat lazy, Aiden has never wanted to be anyone's savior let alone a whole city's. Family has been the only thing that mattered in his life and after his father's death, he naturally took on the role of protector and main provider for his mother and siblings. This also made it very natural to take in the stray band of misfits that became almost like family and also why it is so natural for Aiden to constantly help people, even at times he would rather not.

His bleeding heart drags Aiden into the center of conflict far more often than he likes and he constantly berates himself for it. This automatic altruism has jaded him which fuels his sarcastic and sometimes bitter, self-deprecating humor. A tad over dramatic at times means that while he rarely, it ever, says no to aiding someone in need, it certainly doesn't mean he has to be quiet about it either.

The Inqusitor (DAI)

Max has been fortunate for most of his life, from growing up in the wealthy Trevelyan family, to his good looks and, quiet frankly, fantastic smile it's easy to assume he'd be another spoiled rich brat. You'd be giving in to a stereotype that doesn't, quiet, fit him though. From a young age Max has always been outgoing and adventurous which made him a handful to raise. His father frequently grappled with finding things to keep his youngest son occupied in ways that he hadn't had to do with his previous three children.

Born with a naturally sharp mind and quick wit, Max picks up new concepts quickly and with ease. Which means he often grew board with tutors, burned through the family library in a handful of years, quickly became very competent on horseback as well as the breeding and rearing of them (part of the family business), and often terrorized his siblings as well as the hired staff. Once he exhausted most of the interesting things at home he started running off to search for new adventures. Boredom and frequent arguments with his father often lead to habitual bouts of running away from home. Hence where Max got to truly learn about the world and open his eyes to the kind of privilege he's been so lucky to be born with. Unfortunately this also has ingrained his habit of running away from problems he doesn't see a forward solution to. (*cough*theinqusiton*cough*)

OC Study

Featuring:

Warden-Commander Feiell “Fe" Tabris

Champion of Kirkwall Aiden Hawke

Inquisitor Maxwell “Max" Trevelyan

1. Is your OC easily bothered by things?

Feiell – Small things don’t really bother her but she is a tad hot-headed so if you give her a hard time you might not be in for the best experience. She also has zero tolerance for idiots or assholes.

Aiden – He’s a petty bitch that mostly whines and complains to annoy his friends. Also whining about petty things is a good cover for the bigger worries and anxieties he hides underneath.

Max – Mostly an easygoing, carefree type. It takes the numerous responsibilities of the Inquisition weighing down on him all at once before he starts cracking.

2. How easily does your OC make friends?

Feiell – Most defiantly not a people person. Her natural stoic demure and biting sarcasm keeps people at bay. You have to spend quite a bit of time around her before she warms up to you.

Aiden – For reasons he doesn’t really understand people like Aiden. It’s probably his easy smile and sense of humor which he uses to get what he wants or needs out of them. Not really manipulative just doesn’t feel like he deserves the attention. The humor mostly hides his pain and keeps people at arms length, mostly unintentionally. He hates to burden those he loves.

Max – Max loves people, mostly entertaining, or teasing them. His signature charming smile and good looks usually put people at ease which makes him very likable. It also lets him get away with the mischief he often gets into.

3. Does your OC go beyond what they have to do or do they usually do just enough work to get by?

Feiell – Has almost literally killed herself to get where she is. Her work ethic is legendary and she’ll do almost anything to support her family and friends.

Aiden – Will do the barest minimum to get by. Her lazy as hell, even though he is incapable of saying no when someone needs help.

Max – Believes in doing things right the first time and if not the first time then defiantly the second time. Whatever the job needs to get done he willing to do and if it’s a favorite project he can lose himself in it indefinitely.

4. Is your OC respectful of others?

Feiell – She will be as respectful to you as you are to her, but will out match you if you’re a dick to her or her friends.

Aiden – Respectful enough to not cause trouble and get people to leave him alone.

Max – Perfect manners, and ridiculously charming. He believes everyone deserves respect unless they prove otherwise.

5. Is your OC imaginative or more down-to-earth?

Feiell – Defiantly no-nonsense and down-to-earth. She believes in hard work to active your goals.

Aiden – More of a day-dreamer but pulls a practical side together to care for and help family and friends. Dreams are nice but plans put food on the table.

Max – Total idealist, truly believes even the most impossible is attainable if you work at it long enough. Most of that idealistic optimism is broken after Trespasser, but that’s a long story.

6. Is your OC comfortable with themselves?

Feiell – She’s always been comfortable with who she is and has never felt any shame for it. She owes that to her parents and cousin.

Aiden – Feels like a constant failure and a burden despite how hard he tries not to. Doesn’t feel comfortable with opening up about his feelings and weighing others down with them. Is also terrible with expressing more painful emotions.

Max – Is mostly comfortable with himself. Always felt like a disappointment to his family because he never had the kind of goals for his life he thought they would want from him. Also never really saw himself as reliable but the Inquisition changed all that.

7. Does your OC plan things and stick to it or do they make it up as their go?

Feiell – Always has a plan and is a master of adjusting things on the fly if needed. Prefers to stick to the plan but has accepted how rarely that can happen.

Aiden – He’s been winging his whole life and it somehow hasn’t killed him yet.

Max – Usually has more of an outline than a hard plan. Trial & error are his best friends and somehow he’s still alive, that’s probably because he uses educated guesses more that throwing things to the wind.

8. Was their life eventful before the start of the story, or was it more dull?

Feiell – Depends if living in poverty and oppression is dull to you. I guess since it was normal for her it was boring.

Aiden – The stress of hiding a mage father and sister was more than Aiden ever wanted. He would have preferred boring.

Max – While the constant mischief Max got himself into means things were never dull they certainly seem boring when compared to life in the Inquisition. Josephine certainly had her hands full going through all of Max’s past exploits.

9. Do they have the habit to insult other people?

Feiell – Is a salty, little bitch so defiantly yes. She has a sharp tongue.

Aiden – Bit of a smart-ass and occasionally he can’t help it so it gets him in trouble.

Max – Mostly no, it takes quite a bit to get on his nerves enough to make him snap at you. Usually very polite.

10. Would your OC be described as “the life of the party”?

Feiell – She can be described as the death of the party.

Aiden – Likes to think he is.

Max – Is the actual life of the party if he wants to be. Usually he is.

11. Are they critical of others?

Feiell – To a degree, yes

Aiden - Mostly critical of himself

Max – Not really, he’s pretty non-judgmental

12. Do they like art? what is their favorite type (paintings, songs, fashion, etc)?

Feiell – The art of war perhaps, but music is good too.

Aiden – He considers Fenris a work of art if that counts.

Max – Paintings, music, nature, pretty clothes (mostly on Dorian), Max loves it all. He was especially fond of watching Solar paint his murals.

13. Are they more accepting or more controlling of the people in their life?

Feiell – As long as you’re not bothering her and no one gets hurt she doesn’t really care what people do.

Aiden – He has no control over his own life let alone any one else.

Max – Very accepting of people but not above a subtle nudge to do things he feels might benefit them.

14. Is your OC a good listener?

Feiell – She listens more than she talks, so yes.

Aiden – The one who’s always there to listen when you need him.

Max - Yes, he also has a great memory so he's very good at keeping track of all the drama in life. Lol

15. Are they opinionated or more willing to change their minds?

Feiell – Pretty opinionated but not impossible to change her mind, not that it is easy to do so mind you.

Aiden – Too changeable at times and mostly keeps his opinions to himself.

Max – A few solid moral opinions that he won’t move on but open-minded on nearly everything else.

16. Are they the kind of person who’s always on the defensive?

Feiell – Much less than she use to be but definitely yes.

Aiden – Only when he feels blamed for everything, which he is often.

Max – No, he dose his best to own up to his mistakes and rarely takes things personally.

17. Do people like hanging around them? do they have a positive, friendly energy?

Feiell – I will file this under HELL NO. She scares the crap out of most people if she doesn’t piss them off. It can take quite awhile for friends to warm up to her, if at all.

Aiden – People love Aiden, but the older he gets the less Aiden likes people. They demand too much from him but he’ll never be able to say no, or miss a chance at a passive-aggressive joke. Or a regular bad joke for that matter.

Max – People love Max almost from the moment they meet him. There is just something about him that puts everyone at ease and makes it easier to trust and smile. Must be the charming smile, yeah, has to be. He’s not bad looking either.

18. Is your OC a procrastinator? if they are, what’s an example of how much?

Feiell – People die if she puts things off, so no. Some days she wishes she could put many things off though. Like dying anytime soon, there’s too much to accomplish.

Aiden – What is productivity? If nobody is dying or it’s not dragging him, kicking and screaming, by the hair then its probably not getting done. At least no time soon. Guilt trip him hard to speed things up.

Max – Important things get done but if it’s not a pressing issue then it often can be temporarily abandoned for more enjoyable activities. Even if it’s set aside, the thing will still be done in a reasonable amount of time. Unless he forgets, which can happen frequently.

19. Do they tend to panic in certain situations or are they more calm?

Feiell – Always calm, if something bothers her you’ll never know.

Aiden – Panics constantly. Somewhat hides it well…somewhat…

Max – Takes most things in stride, the sudden dump of responsibility and people’s lives was really stressful but he adjusted to it.

20. Are they vengeful?

Feiell – I literally made a post of her being a deity of vengeance lol.

Aiden – Petty or bitter, perhaps, but not full on vengeful.

Max – Yes, touch the people he loves and see a whole different side of him.

21. What are some skills your OC has a talent for and what are some that they worked for?

Feiell – She’s has a natural flair for swordsmanship, her mother started training her and Fe kept up the practice even after her mother’s passing. Her leadership skills were…a little more rough. She had to learn how to organize and lead people on the fly because of the Blight but luckily she learns quickly.

Aiden – He’s scary good at lying, not even Varric can catch him in one. (Honestly most of his book is just Varric's best guess on Aiden's thoughts) Knife throwing took quite a bit of practice though. He can now nail someone at 100 pages and is unmatched at darts.

Max – Politics and navigating the Great Game are weirdly natural for Max even though he kinda hates it. His archery skill is something he is extremely proud of because he’s practiced relentlessly to be as good as he is. And he really is good, until a natural like Sera comes and shatters his ego. Lol

22. Are they more socially awkward or socially confident?

Feiell – Awkward, but in the way that she doesn’t care what people do or say. She dose her own thing and ignores everyone else.

Aiden – Smooth on the outside, tired wreak on the inside. Not that anyone will ever know.

Max – Social chameleon, and life of the party. Until he slips away unnoticed somehow.

23. What is something really dumb that irritates your OC a lot?

Feiell – Dumb questions about her hair: “How long is it?”, “Why do you keep it that long?”, “Is it really that red?”. Usually answered with “Why do you care so much, it’s not your hair.” Also people touching her constantly, she doesn’t see the need to constantly clap people on the shoulder or grab their arms when somethings funny.

Aiden – Orlesians, if you don’t know anything about DA then I’m sorry, this probably doesn’t make sense to you.

Max – Assuming he's stupid or that because of his wealth that he doesn't do any work. He's a natural busy-body so assuming he sits on his are all day is really irritating.

24. Do they tend to see the good in people?

Feiell – No, she’s had too many bad experiences before so distrust is her default until proven otherwise.

Aiden – Sometimes, mostly sees people in shades of grey. No one is 100% good or bad.

Max – He sees the good in people as often as he can and tries to pull some good out of those who are sometimes a little lost.

25. What does it take for your OC to trust someone?

Feiell – Doing what you say you will, not hiding things, sticking up for others when it clearly has no benefit for you, and give it a few weeks….or months and she may trust you.

Aiden – Help him out in a hard spot, or help family/friends.

Max – If you’re not openly malicious or he doesn’t feel like you’re lying/hiding anything his default if to trust until proven otherwise.

26. Do they have a lot of mood swings?

Feiell – Not really, she’s not a very emotional person. Unless you count her temper which can light like a matchstick.

Aiden - Known to be moody, to the point of it being a well known joke among friends. On bad days he can even out do Anders.

Max – Only if the stress is overwhelming him or he’s pretty sick. Otherwise he’s pretty even tempered.

27. Do they like to be the center of attention or do they prefer to be in the background?

Feiell – Hates being the center of attention and would rather be left alone. Unfortunately she’s had to get use to the attention after becoming Warden-Commander.

Aiden – If people could forget who he is it would be really nice. Likes being the center of attention among friends and family, doesn’t like it with crowds of strangers.

Max – Loves entertaining people and making them laugh which makes him great for parties. He grew up attending big gatherings and is an expert at navigating them, which means he's also very good at slipping away from them when he tires of the crowds.

28. Do people think they’re pretentious?

Feiell – Sometimes, her natural expression can give that impression but most of those people that make this mistake are racist shems that don’t like the power she has. Or the fact that she could kill them without breaking a sweat.

Aiden – No, his face is too friendly and if that doesn’t do it the self-deprecating jokes do.

Max – Yes, it’s easy for people to assume that since he comes from money. He’s never thought himself better than anyone though and tries to dispel that impression, but you can’t control what people want to think of you.

29. Is your OC detail oriented or do they focus more on the big picture?

Feiell – Details, details, you add them all up and that’s how you get a bigger picture. Other words, very detail oriented.

Aiden – Big picture. How you get there is a mystery though.

Max – Big picture first then an outline of the main details to get there.

30. Which high school movie stereotype would they fit best?

Feiell – The ice queen/The strict, scary teacher.

Aiden – Class clown/Troublemaker/Weird but laid back teacher

Max – The jock that befriends the weird kid/Hot science teacher

31. Are they good giving advice?

Feiell – Defiantly not, she’s better at giving orders.

Aiden – Only ask if you want to get in trouble. Ok, that’s not completely true, occasionally he can give good advice. Particularly to help cheer someone up.

Max – I would say yes, he’s gotten quite a bit of good advice over the years and likes to pass it on.

32. Which one of the 7 deadly sins fit your OC more? do they see it as a flaw?

Feiell – Wrath: Only a flaw if you think beating your enemies is a bad thing.

Aiden - Sloth: Regrets this flaw. If he had acted sooner on many things they might not have escalated the way they did.

Max – Pride: A flaw he has worked hard to temper over the years. Was more of a problem when he was younger than now.

33. Is your OC more likely to keep their feelings to themselves or to share them?

Feiell – Keeps them mostly to herself. A couple close friends may get a glimpse but only Zevran knows her well. He’s learned when to prod to get her to open up.

Aiden – Doesn’t like to burden others so keeps his feelings to himself even when he shouldn’t.

Max – His oldest sister is his best friend and confidant, she gets to hear everything. Max has started to lean on Dorian in this way too. Basically immediate family and good friends will know what’s up.