#he then goes to do something else thats more traditional but hes still recognized

[reki-of-the-valley]

Why do I feel Langa modeled in his youth as a little extra cash grab and got pretty popular but quit that world before he could "make something out of himself"?

[mecachrome]

hello! i read you primer (which was lovely) and if you dont mind, what makes you think that lando has a high eq? not that i disagree with you but i feel like high intelligence of any kind is not something that is commonly associated with lando (i say this with affection of course) thats why it stood out for me :)

hey anon!!! first of all thank you so much :) and ofc i'd be more than happy to share my perspective although of course this is just my very random meta as a semi-uninformed oscar fan hahaha

ok not to go off on too much of a tangent but i think something i often encounter in real people fandom is this ig very restrictive perception of "intelligence" when it comes to examining celebrity upbringings and career choices? which i don't think necessarily comes from a malicious place, and i mean obviously a major factor & meaningful context behind lando specifically not finishing school is that he is extremely rich and had major financial security to pursue his dreams, and then on top of that he's definitely prone to saying many impulsive and objectively uninformed things, but...... just as a purely personal philosophy i try to avoid ascribing too much weight to "traditional" notions of intelligence or one's academic success. like i do find it endearing that oscar studied engineering subjects because i did too, but just as an example if you look at oscar it's really like, Well the difference between his education and lando's is frankly MUCH less pronounced than the difference between oscar's and lily's (read: a-level cs is not going to make you a software engineer...), even though people often act like lando is the dumbest person in the world and oscar is some engineering genius. and then furthermore when you examine the actual types of "intelligence" useful to someone becoming a successful racing driver aka the rote memory, technical knowledge, and sheer intuition required for honing race craft and maximizing pure pace around a circuit, lando is just as smart as any driver. or at least that's what i think!!!

let me put the rest below the cut........

also to some degree i really do believe it's smarter to know that you're wasting your time in school if you can be doing something else that will be more fulfilling and is accessible and achievable to you, because doesn't that just afford you extra time to practice and hone your craft and get further with your life? again with lando this was a decision that could only have been made with a massive safety net and undeniable amounts of privilege, Which I Recognize, but just like—idk. i think it's fine to not like school, and even though Lando Norris specifically certainly does not need his academic history defended i try to remain consistent in not moralizing the specific dimensions of someone's intellect.

but anyway!!! that doesn't really have anything to do with eq or your question HKLSDFH i just like overexplaining... in terms of eq, i think it kind of just inherently shows in how lando makes and maintains his friendships honestly, which all goes back to the idea of his empathy. and this is perhaps a bit of a fannish meta oversimplification and obviously everything i say is VibesTM at the end of the day but i do think he's someone who's just incredibly and stubbornly loyal, and that even though some of the things he says come off as callous to fans who examine his intent through the lens of their own ideologies, they're actually usually perfectly fine in the context of his relationships and the general culture of the f1 paddock. like he's been friends with maxf and co since he was a functional baby and is somehow still codependent with these people who aren't actually properly relevant to the sports bubble he occupies at all anymore, and yet that hasn't changed the fundamental makeup of the connections he's made because he just, like... values people.

like tps and mclaren personnel and pretty much every driver on the grid etc. all genuinely LOVE lando, and imo he's very self-aware of how he comes off to fans and does show a lot of grace despite............certain things. like he's not going to always Say The Right Thing in the moment, but he generally understands how people feel about him and why they react to the things he says, which is why he's so effective at both marketing himself and hiring people who can market him better (how many other drivers have built up a branding as strong as ln4 & quadrant before the age of 23!)

the way i see it is essentially that lando's "honesty" is part of his eq. because formula 1 is an entertainment product built off bullshit, but actually successful and healthy and sustainable outfits need honesty and accountability to thrive. and ultimately lando is, at least within a sporting context, a deeply accountable person. Also speaking again of different perspectives of intelligence: for ex mclaren works the way it does because zbrown understands his place, andrea understands his place, and lando and oscar both understand their places!!! like zak brown's savvy is in business so he handles the press conferences even though that's usually the tp's job, and andrea understood that key was ineffective in his role so he retooled the entire engineering triumvirate, and then lando and oscar... work as teammates because they have a productive and collaborative understanding of each other and what they're meant to deliver every week.

idk if that makes sense really. but i think lando takes on a lot of responsibility and clearly cares deeply about the team and is very vocal about that, regardless of whether "he's too scared to be max's teammate" doubters believe it alksdfhlkfdh, and i think this kind of... general refusal to entertain bullshit in a world of bullshit & the fact that he's still friends with daniel and close to maxv and all these people who he's apparently deeply wronged according to certain corners of the internet etc. etc. is a pretty solid reflection of that eq. he doesn't always know what to say but he usually means the right thing, most of the time..... and as much as oscar is clearly mature beyond his years i don't think lando has ever shown an inability to face the heat as the senior driver and team leader at mclaren? like if you watch any recent interviews where he answers technical questions or discusses where mclaren is developmentally or their place in the championship fight he always speaks very well and confidently and measuredly. like IDK. maybe i'm just crazy though. lmk if that makes no sense HDSLFKH sorry for this essay 😔

[flowerflamestars]

I'm in a very angry-with-the-IC-and-Rhys-in-particular mood, and since I'm just rereading Daylight I was wondering, what is going through Rhysand's mind throughout the events of Daylight? Because it's basically his entire life CRUMBLING around him and I'd love to see the mental gymnastics he does to fit it all into his "I'm the good guy, actually" narrative. Or just his general reaction.

this is a FABULOUS question, thank you!

Daylight! Rhys is, in my opinion, the closest to a canonical (pre-acosf) character representation that I go for. He's so SO fucked up, and sublimating and burying all that trauma has, of course, failed, and it's all manifesting, in all these different directions.

To understand the level on which Rhys is losing his shit, it's important to go back to the very beginning: Rhysand, to Rhysand, is always, always the hero of the story. The down on his luck knight with truth in his heart. The struggling, just man.

He CANNOT seeing beyond himself for even a second. He casts himself in the most important role, as the only person whose personal consequences exist.

His mother, at probable great risk, takes him to Illyria to be trained- the precious, first-born, godly son of Night. To learn to fight- to learn, presumably, her culture- to see what that culture is reduced to, a harshness he will on day have the power to change. Rhys had to be, at some point, a great hope for Not High Fae denizens of the Court.

What does Rhysie learn? Illyria is harsh. Illyria is bad. Backwards and cruel.

He hates his father for...presumably, the crime of being a pretty traditional High Lord? Rhys hates the cruelties! the Court of Nightmares! the broken system!

So what does Rhys do when he has power? he fires everyone. He doesn't like them, he doesn't like whatever they did under his father...so instead of hiring new people, he removes himself entirely from a potential role in changing/mitigating those policies. See also: the Court of Nightmares, cowed occasionally, but not in any way governed by Rhys.

But he's the hero! He's destroyed the oppression! His Court of Just his Bros is made of women and Illyrians!

(Rhys removed the terribleness from his direct experience...because only his experiences matter)

So, Rhys in his head: the struggle, the hero, the man just trying to do it right.

Which brings us to Daylight....and Feyre. I know we can attribute the way the characters stop even remotely being sympathetic between acomaf and...everything else...to poor writing, but I also think there's some (maybe accidental but PERFECT) character work there: in acomaf, pre-acknowledged bond, Feyre is an important possession/ally- she's on the same level as the other members of the Court of Dreams, if the jewel of the collection, a high point in the story Rhys tells himself: HE saved the HERO OF PRYTHIAN

(which...let's not even touch on the fact that the deal he makes in acotar is CREEPY and he can only justify it later. she wasn't someone he wanted to work with in acotar- she was a vulnerable, hot young woman he fully took advantage of)

And then they're mates.

And then, slowly but surely, Feyre's personhood disappears. For two reasons: 1) Feyre is on a pedestal so sky-high it blots out everything. Good, pure, true hero Feyre whose adoration Rhysand needs like air. the happy end of his story, the prize and the salvation, the one who sees him.

and 2) ultimately, to Rhys, Feyre is an extension of him. A symbol: his happiness, his peace, his endless power, what he fought to keep.

She's his whole anchor staying sane, which isn't great, considering...ya know, everything. But the Story is Over. They are Happy.

Except- except- nothing is over. Post fifty straight years of torture, a freefall into war and fuckery, teen marriage and literal death, the consequences for all those things AND THE SHIT RHYS WAS PULLING LONG BEFORE AMARANTHA TURNED HIM INTO A CHEW TOY, are still present.

But now, he has something to protect. His golden future. His puppy Mate.

Because Feyre's safety is the safety of his power and vice versa. Anything he does is justifiable because the loss of Feyre is Not an Option. She is Happy. They Are Happy.

It bleeds into everything- and then it intensifies, because this is the breaking point.

The Az/Lucien thing and Feyre incredibly hurtful blindness? No Rhys isn't going to interfere- Az is so private anyway- if Feyre believes its a romantic bond, Feyre is right, she knows her sister, not that it matters because Elain is totally out of her mind.

Sending Cassian to Illyria? Illyria is a backwards shithole right? They're fierce fighters and that's what Rhys values them for- as the hammer of his power- and nothing else? why would there be anything else? Look at them fighting and hurting each other.

Nesta runs and Cassian is left throwing himself in battles actively trying to die and Rhys? Rhys is totally smug. A problem that hurt Feyre and his brother is GONE.

But it's not gone. Az isn't talking to anyone- and Rhys thinks this probably means Lucien is probably, finally fucking him- but even Feyre understands that Azriel knows where Nesta is. When this is proved (when Elain surfaces and they have the very fun kitchen fight) Rhys isn't happy- but he understands. Azriel has always felt responsible for broken things.

But thats not his job, it's Rhysands job, and Rhys has already made that tough choice for the safety of his own: Nesta has no place here. When she resurfaces inevitably, broke and wanting something, Rhys will stop her before she gets close enough to upset (hurt) Feyre. It's his job.

Cassian goes missing, and Rhysand sets upon what will become his eventual move: Illyria's value is strength. (a martial strength that belongs to RHYS). But they think they can take from him? They can destroy their own best chance? (Rhys recognizes Cassian's value to Illyria even while, you know, ordering him to slaughter Illyrians) They would threaten his power? hurt his family?

Rhys will not allow a world to exist where Feyre can be hurt.

If Illyria can't be controlled, Illyria will be put down, like the rabid creatures they are. (They were always backwards, Rhys thinks. Freeing my mother was the one good thing my father ever did)

But Cassian lives.

Rhys asks Azriel if he's been cursed. Az laughs in his face.

And Cassian is a terrible enemy to have. The strategies the loyalists are using? His, filtered through Rhys. The magical contingencies? Cassian and Az, trying to prevent bloodshed.

Feyre thinks, for a long time, that maybe the rebels have Nesta. What else could compel Cassian to even care? these people keep trying to kill him. they want to kill Rhys. the brothers suffered in the frozen mud at the hands of these monsters, what is Cassian doing?

And then the massacre happens.

And Feyre sick to her stomach, cries when she hears. Rhysand thinks about a little hazel eyed boy who'd never had a bed, a present, who'd been nothing until Rhysand plucked him up- a little boy who'd grown into a dangerous man, who'd just killed every person who ever contributed to his pain. Rhys thinks, knowing he'll have to punish Cassian for this, that it's over.

The camp lords are dead, it has to be over.

(Azriel hears and understands- because he knows damn well Cassian was something before Rhysand, and after despite him. That beneath those repeatedly broken ribs is a heart that was once so big so save him, grown strong enough now to save everyone who was like them: forgotten, abandoned, used.)

It's not over. The mountains are burning. Banners fly on northern wind in a language long dead. They're singing, the spies say, they call him dawn. Loyal-heart-as-dawn.

It's Cassians name. Not that Rhys, who never knew more than a few vile insults in the language of his mother's ancient, proud people, understood it then.

Rhysand, the long-suffering hero of his own story, has been betrayed.

He can risk no more- it's time to end this madness. It's Feyre's idea to use Elain- it's Feyre who is left crying, a betrayal Rhysand will never forget- when Elain, who they've given everything, Elain, perhaps just as broken and wretched as her eldest sister, refuses to help keep Feyre safe.

(Elain refuses to participate in what she sees as genocide, but as we've established, what consequences exist? the ones Rhys feels right in front of his face)

Azriel, Elain, and Lucien run.

Of course, if both Feyre's sisters are capable of betraying her, of course, both of Rhysand's brothers would as well. They are one in the same, aren't they? Marked by destiny, by fate for this hard and terrible work- of course it hurts. Of course- but Rhysand will stop it from hurting Feyre any more.

There's one force in the world that can stand in truth against Illyria. The Darkbringers- their ancestral, ancient conquers.

(Yes, I do think Rhys knows the shitty, shitty history of his court! He just doesn't care! He didn't do it. He's different. He's in Velaris with the common people. He has wings. He's not his father.)

(He is, in fact, far worse)

When he thinks of it, it seems perfect. Illyria will be destroyed- a loss, but a safe one. Keir, will, almost certainly, also be destroyed or at least critically weakened.

Rhysand will stand alone, the man who was willing to do anything for peace. He will rule over an emptied playing field, secure in a world where Feyre is safe.

The Hewn City empties, the armies march- Rhysand holds tight Feyre's hand, says nothing about the fact that nothing, nothing, will stop Keir from killing anyone in front of him when battle starts, and reaches once more for Cassian's mind.

His brother, his friend, his loyal right hand- he begs him to come back. To come home. That they can put down this rebellion and in his love for Cassian everything can go back to how it is meant to be, all of them together.

It does not occur to him to address the hundreds dead. The system he was complicit in and responsible for that ground a culture to dust and ash- what matters is brother against brother should never have turned, and Rhys, in his kindness, will offer Cassian this last chance for honor.

Rhys doesn't want Cassian to die- he wants Cassian by his side- but he will drown the world in blood before he'll lose his crown and hope and Feyre.

And when Cassian dies, falling to the earth in Rhysand's arms, Rhys thinks of penance.

A circle closed.

But of course- Cassian wakes. Death is not done with her right hand anymore than the contract between Lordship and land in immutable. Cassian brought the magic back, brought Illyria back.

Rhys is fighting for something personal- Cassian is fighting for a whole world and future, with everything in himself.

When the new border is drawn, Rhys doesn't despair- sure he's shaking, he's covered in Cassian's blood, his twelve thousand year old walls are smoking and the whole world smells like fucking Nesta Archeron- he's been the victim of curses before.

He won't let it keep him down. He'll be fine. He has Feyre, they're safe. Illyria is going to implode- and maybe, maybe, he'll save some of those that remain when the violence is too much, when they need a real High Lord.

They'll come home. Just like Feyre's sisters will. Rhysand's brothers. They fought for peace and Velaris has it- it is their home.

It's what they fought for, the happy ending, and it's all worth it.

It has to be worth it.

[1994sunflower]

Are you still doing requests for Michael? I would really like to see a “when michael first meets your parents” thing ❤️

you literally don't understand how much I loved making this. thank you for the request. I hope you like it!  

the first meeting was definitely explosive buut I think as the relationship progresses, the parents start to get more used to it (even if they still don’t like it) so it isnt ever as tense and volatile as the first. we also get to see protective!yn here which I really liked exploring. 

in which michael meets your parents

You were constantly going back and forth from cleaning and straightening your living room to staring at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup and trying not to convince yourself to change outfits completely.

It wasn’t that your parents were judgmental. Just extremely traditional and if you didn’t have everything looking pristine and perfect, a comment was sure to leave one of their mouths. And with this reunion with your parents being so different from past ones, you couldn’t afford for anything else to take attention away.

But mostly you were a nervous sort of excited and maybe thats why you were jumping around, constantly in motion. You hadn’t seen your parents for the better half of year and to say you missed them was an understatement. You grew up pampered with love and their constant belief in you and whatever you dreamed of achieving. Even if at times they felt too strict and expecting perfection. But still, it was hard to even leave home for college because of how close you were with them. That didn’t mean you didn’t constantly call to check in or go over for holidays. But even that wasn’t enough. Each year you organized a day when they would come over to your apartment and you would eat out or eat in and have a family day. It was one of your favorite days because it was one of the only times you weren’t stressed because of school and you felt so absolutely surrounded by love and the people closest to you. Except for nearly 2 years now, your moment with the people closest to you was missing someone. 

They definitely knew about Michael. Ever since you started dating, you told them all about him and how much he meant to you. But you hadn’t wanted to introduce him right away, afraid that it was too soon or afraid that you weren’t completely in a serious relationship just yet. And lucky for you Michael didn’t seem all that interested either. But Michael had become such an integral part in your life, someone you could see yourself being with forever. Someone you didn’t want to part with. So you knew it was time. And you think your heart might erupt at having all your loved ones together at last. You couldn’t hold back the little excited squeal that escaped you when you called to let your parents know about the addition to your family day.

You were staring at your spotless white living room then, going over everything in your mind to make sure you hadn’t let something slip your mind. Yes, you were excited but you were also so nervous. You usually were when it came time for your parents to visit but this time was so much worse as it felt that this unique visit actually had something riding on it. You felt tense despite yourself. Your fingers played with the fabric of your knitted sweater with the white collar peaking up under it. Maybe you had time to change into something your conventional parents might like even better.

But you felt arms wrap around your waist before you could dwell on that thought for too long. A surprised gasp left you but you could recognize Michael’s strong presence anywhere. You were so in your head, you hadn’t even heard him unlock your apartment door with his key. You relaxed in his arms, leaning back against his chest. 

“Thank you for being on time.” You breathed out. You asked him to be there before your ever punctual parents were scheduled to arrive. And you hoped your serious tone was enough to let him know just how important it was to you.

He hummed in response and finally you turned to get a look at him. 

It might’ve been the first time you’d seen him with long sleeves. The shirt covered up his arms and fit respectfully around his chest. But it was impossible to even try to hide the tattoos covering the expanse of his neck and his hands and fingers. And he still had the familiar set of chains draped on his jeans. You weren’t ashamed of him and you would never force him to hide and transform into something he was not to appease your parents. So you never mentioned what he should or shouldn’t wear, how he should or shouldn’t act. You wanted him to be himself, the person you loved so much. Even if it wasn’t what your parents would want, expect or even accept. But still, you couldn’t help but swoon at this subtle way of him showing you that he cared enough to try - at least a little, even if it was only because you cared about your parents.

Because sure you told them about him but maybe the way you saw and described him wasn’t exactly how he was to everyone else. To you, he was sweet, caring, gentle, protective, loving with a hard exterior. But even if they didn’t like him, which you knew they likely wouldn’t at first (ever critical and frankly, just shy of snobby) with how much Michael’s image clashed with the one they were trying to maintain and the same one they wanted for you, you were determined to get them to warm up to him eventually. Because you didn’t know how you could handle it if they didn’t like him at all.

Michael, for his part, was much more relaxed on that front than you were. Because, he didn’t have to wonder or stress about being liked by your parents. Ever since you brought up him meeting them, he already knew they wouldn’t like him. And he wasn’t particularly worried about trying to change their minds. The only opinion that mattered in his mind was yours and you liked him just fine. He could see their reactions already, the horror plastered on their faces when they saw him beside their daughter. They might have seemed willing and excited when you first told them he was invited but that was because they had a false image of him in their heads by how you described him. He almost wanted to skip it because he already knew the outcome, one that would only serve to make you upset and by default then, make him angry. But he knew how important family was to you, how close you were with yours and he couldn’t deny you. When he saw how you smiled and giggled with excitement, he didn’t have the heart to ruin that. But even Ashton had seem privy to what would happen, his smile then telling him not so subtly You’re so screwed.

And maybe that was also the reason he consciously decided to wear something that would hide his tattoos more than before. He knew they still wouldn’t like him but it would be better for them to not absolutely detest him - at least not straight off the bat. He didn’t care if they liked him as your boyfriend but he did care if their hatred was so bad that they tried to pull you away from him because if how obvious it would be that he didn’t deserve you. Not that he would ever accept that even if they tried. Maybe that’s why he felt a little more antsy than he ever expected to feel. He wasn’t nervous to meet them, he was unsure of what meeting them could end up meaning for his relationship.

He had to be at least a little better than he was usually with others. It also didn’t help that he never had to be in the position of meeting a girl’s parents before - especially one that was so incredibly different from him already that her parents, her strict, professional parents would probably blow up to see the type of man their daughter took with her chosen partner, the kind that didn’t seem like would amount to much - which was ill-suited for you who everyone knew would achieve her wildest dreams. For the first time in a long time he couldn’t help but think just how different your paths in life were before they converged and how much he wished, at least for tonight, that he was just a little less inconspicuous, in all fronts (height and body art) so that just the sight of him wouldn’t be an omen for your parents of how badly he was suited for you, how much he would destroy you and their dreams of your future.

It had to be a testament of his love that he hadn’t tried to back out of this already.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tip toes to try to look him more at eye level - still miserably too short but trying all the same. “I know I already told you but I made food for all of us instead of going out so it’d be more of a personal thing. And please don’t mention anything about me living with you, okay? They-”

“They still think you’re a virgin like a good little girl.” His smile was anything but sweet and you slapped his arm playfully at his words. Oh, another thing they would hate him for. Another way he ruined their precious daughter.

“Michael. This is serious.” It wasn’t what you were going to say. But you didn’t deny his words were true, either.

You didn’t technically move in together. But you spent most of your time with Michael and slept at his house more often than you did in your own apartment. For Michael, it was weird not being there right then with you, even weirder if you were here instead of his house. In your parents minds however, you lived and slept in your apartment 24/7 and this would be the first time Michael was ever in there for an extended period of time. And if they ever found out the truth, they would probably drag you back to live with them and away from Michael tooth and nail. Same goes for if they ever had a clue that he even had a key to your apartment, allowing him access whenever he wanted and for whatever purposes. As far as they were aware, you were still the shy girl who had barely even had her first kiss yet let alone have experienced all you had with Michael. If they even had a clue, they would think Michael was an even a worse influence than his appearance would already lead them to believe; they may even believe he was a devil. 

You took his face in your hands, “One last thing. They may seem a little…snobby but whatever they may think or say at first doesn’t matter. I know they’ll end up loving you just as much as I do.”

Michael didn’t have to respond. You made a small jump to kiss his lips and he caught you in the air easily, holding you up to him so you could kiss more easily. He hadn’t commented on your very conservative outfit, your usual choices of skirts and light dresses (his favorites, the ones that always had such easy access) were done away with and instead a sweater that hid your body and jeans that stood between him and being able to feel your core against him whenever you wrapped your legs around him were in its place. Even without the day starting yet, he already decided the change in wardrobe your parents inspired in you was one of his least favorite part of the day.

Maybe he would end up disliking them just as much as they did him.

You yelped when you heard the knocking at your door and Michael groaned at having to separate from your addicting lips and even more when you wiggled in his arms to be set down again. You scrambled quickly to the mirror, fixing whatever lipstick he had smudged and he had the decency to at least wipe at his own lips to get rid of any color.

Off to a rough start. The last thing you needed was for your parents’ first impression of Michael to be with your lipstick still smeared on his lips. 

You took his big hand in yours, loving the way his fingers immediately entwined in yours, as you made your way to the door, dragging him along. His chains rattled as he followed you. You opened the door with a big happy smile on your face and he was almost sad to know that eventually that smile would be gone. His gaze was on you, almost wishing that he would be wrong about their reactions towards him because he wanted nothing else but to keep you the happiest person in the world, even if he knew the way to do that (to have your parents like him like you wanted them to) was unlikely. 

“Mom, dad!” You jumped excitedly. You hadn’t seen them in nearly a year and at the sight of them, standing side by side at your doorway, dressed as impeccably as they always did and wearing their parental, loving smiles, it suddenly hit you how much you missed them. You could almost cry.

But you didn’t let go of Michael’s hand. And finally, Michael’s gaze shifted from you to the two people he could thank for your marvelous existence. They were everything he imagined they would look like. Just as prim and proper as their daughter, or at least as you were before he came along.

Your hands squeezed Michael’s and he noticed you were shaking a little. He resisted the urged to collect you in his arms to calm you down. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement. 

“This is Michael, my boyfriend. Michael, these are my parents.” You looked between them expectantly, your parents only having moved from outside to through the doorframe, and Michael realized you were expecting a warm welcome from them at his introduction. 

But both of you watched as your mother’s eyes slipped to your entwined hands, no doubt eyeing the tattoos running up and down Michael’s hand and fingers that basically completely enveloped your small one. To her credit, her grin was still intact. Faking it until she made it.

Your father, was much less of an actor. He stared up at Michael. Your father wasn’t a short man, at least compared to his own wife and his daughter. But very little could measure up to Michael in height. Maybe that had something to do with the way your father’s eyes constantly flickered between the top of your head and to Michael’s eyes, almost bristling at the difference. It was one thing to have a taller boyfriend but it was quite another to have someone as big as Michael, shoulders wide and tall, that seemed to rise dauntingly at your side. It almost felt, to your father, as if you were being taken advantaged of, ravaged by what could be the embodiment of everything he had tried to protect you from.

You watched, your smile slowly fading but still holding on, as their eyes slipped to Michael’s neck. To where his tattoos still were on full display, with an expression of distress. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Michael had chosen to wear a short sleeve. You just hoped they would never have occasion to see him shirtless. You made a note to self to never have a family pool day.

The silence was dreadful. It only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime. Especially when you hoped they would have greeted Michael with warmth and even if it had to be fake, excitement. Okay, maybe it would take a little more convincing for them to like him than you thought. You thought this could be a possibility, that they wouldn’t like him at the start, but you convinced yourself it wouldn’t happen. Convinced that they would see how much you liked him, enough to introduce him to them, enough to trust him so completely. 

Michael didn’t stray his eyes from your parents. He wasn’t trying to be challenging or mocking, even if that was usually exactly what he tended to be. But their reactions were exactly what he expected them to be. The looks of uncertainty, as if this was just a big joke they were waiting to be clued in on. They looked at him as if he was the bad guy on the wrong path that had somehow ensnared their precious daughter. He felt every bit as scrutinized as they obviously were scrutinizing him, they didn’t try to hide it. They saw the way they eyed his tattoos, his chains, his size with disapproval and judgement. If he actually cared about their opinions he might be hurt. But it was almost funny. They didn’t even see half of all they could judge him for. Part of him wondered just what you told them about him to make them not expect what he actually turned out to be.

They stood so still, he wasn’t sure if their minds literally malfunctioned or not. But as he felt you pull yourself closer to his side, almost as if trying to protect him, uselessly attempt to shield him from their eyes, he finally glanced down at you while squeezing your hand for comfort. He didn’t mind the silent criticism and immediate rejection. But he saw your eyes swirl with uncertainty and worry. You hadn’t expected this, that much was clear and it was hurting you. You wanted them to meet but you hadn’t wanted to put Michael in a situation where he would feel unwelcome or judged. Michael loved your hopefulness, even if it was fruitless from the start. The only thing making you feel better was that he didn’t seem really bothered.

“Nice to meet you.” His voice was curt but not cold, as polite as he could manage to force himself to be. For your sake, he’d make the first move.

And it was as if your parents sprung back to life. As if they weren’t aware that they had let their façade slip. Your mother’s smile was back in full force, granted it was forced, and it suddenly struck Michael just how much you two resembled one another, your smile was the same. Your father didn’t look happy but he was back to his usual strict faced expression.

“Oh! We’ve heard so much about you Michael.” Your mother clasped her hands together and while everyone could tell her excitement wasn’t genuine, it seemed enough for your hope to come back.

Because your grin came back, matching your mother’s, before you finally let go of Michael’s hand and bounded over to them. “I missed you so much, mom.” You hugged your mother tightly as your father smiled at the two women of his life. Such a different look to the one he had when you were next to Michael. 

“And you too, daddy.” You mumbled as you moved on to hug your father with a relieved sigh.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Michael clenched his lips together into a thin straight line. It was wrong to see you then, bubbly and jumping around excitedly, looking so adorable and wholesome in front of your parents. While you spoke the title you had so often times moaned out as he had you trembling under him, so tiny and submissive that he could completely take over your entire figure, the one that gave him all the power and dominance over you. 

But to hear it in this context just reinforced what Michael already knew. You were a good girl. One that got good grades and obeyed her parents. But he was slowly tainting that goodness, leaving a new part of yourself just for him. And the rest of the world had no idea. It was almost comical to see you put on this mask of a demure, chaste daughter when he knew the truth of what you were for him.

He had to look away from you, the sight of you looking so pure while saying a word that should have no other connotation was a reminder of how innocent you were and just how much he enjoyed ruining that, how much he already had but evidently not enough because there it was still in front of him. 

He had an urge to take it away right then too, to destroy that facade you currently had up, remind you that he had taken away that pure innocence a long time ago. An urge to hear those words you had just uttered but this time directed to him, like he was used to hearing. A fuck you to the parents that thought they knew you so well, that thought you were, were currently seeing you as, an angelic shy daughter who’d never so much as been touched while in reality her big possessive boyfriend had changed that the moment he decided to have you, it was what made you his, preventing anyone else from ever being able to have you again. But the thought of you being that in front of him right then despite all that, being shy, modest and acting virginal was enough for his body to be heating up with need.

It wasn’t the time for those thoughts but he couldn’t help it after hearing your words, spoken with such modesty when he could imagine drawing it from your lips for him with a very different tone. Oh what horror it would come to your parents, to know that he had that same little girl that currently looked as if she held all the pureness in the world was already marked by him, and all the sinful things he had compelled you to do, the path he was taking you along because of it. And there was nothing they could do about it.

He felt a hand clap his shoulder and he snapped out of his thoughts, glancing down to see your father. His grip was tight and his eyes were unfriendly but his words were playful, likely for your sake. “Great to finally meet you, Mike.” Michael cringed at his words, he hated nicknames. Hated what they seemed to mean, that whoever spoke it thought they were close enough, knew him well enough to give him a personal title. Unless it was from you. “You’re a lot different from what Y/N told us, though.”

“Dad!” Your words had a tone of warning to them as you opened your eyes wide in alarm. His words weren’t straight out critical but the meaning was well received. And any hint of a problem was enough for you to jump in.

Your mother squeezed your shoulders. “Oh come now, little bird.” She laid her cheek on the top of your head, it was hard to be mad at them when she was holding you so maternally you almost felt like a child again. Her gaze was on Michael, however. “You’re a lot taller than I imagined. It isn’t hard to be taller than our Y/N though.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the reminder of just how small you were, this time in front of your boyfriend, but Michael couldn’t stop the albeit tense smile that escaped him at your shyness.

But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be an airy comment. He was taller, but maybe too much. It made it seem as if he was somehow exploiting their poor defenseless daughter, using her to fulfill whatever sick desires he had brewing inside of him. If only they knew.

Your mother hummed, “But if you’re anything like what she tells us about you, I’m sure it will be lovely to get to know you. Even if you do seem so different from all the other boys she’s had interest in.”

The silence that comment was met with was palpable.

Michael’s eyes narrowed at her words. The implication of you with other men (men he had no doubt were a world’s difference from him, men that your mother obviously approved and preferred), thinking of them and crushing on them, was worse enough. But what it meant that your mother purposely remembered and brought them in front of him, your boyfriend, just added a further element.

You had the good sense in moving forward, pulling at his arm before he could retort. Your parents or not, he wasn’t ever good at controlling himself when he got volatile. You cleared your throat. “I made lunch for us. Let’s just sit and get started.”

You were pulling him away and guiding him to your already set dining table. You were uncomfortably aware of the rattling his chains did when he began moving and saw how your parents glanced at them in quick glances. Their lips were set tightly as they walked behind you and Michael and you could feel the way they wanted to talk to each other, no doubt expressing opinions you wouldn’t want to hear.

Michael sat next to you, never letting go of your hand while your father took his place next to him and your mother across from you. If you took away the tension, it almost felt like Michael was the new addition to your small family. The thought made your heart swell. Maybe everything would settle down and get better from then on. You wanted your parents and him to love each other so much, needed this to work on. You weren’t sure if you could handle it if the most important people in your life didn’t get along. You knew Maia already didn’t like him, you didn’t need to add more to the mix.

Your father glanced sideways to Michael. “So, do you study anything in science too? Our daughter spoke all about how kind you were.” His eyes did a not so subtle glance to Michael’s appearance that showcased just how uncertain he was of his daughter’s truthfulness on that account. “But she didn’t mention much about what you do.”

Maybe that was on purpose. Because while you didn’t look the least bit embarrassed when he spoke, your parents didn’t share that sentiment. “No, nothing in science.” He was trying his best, really he was, hiding his contempt and warningly low voice he wanted to take on. You noticed it, the way his tone was still calm, even bordering polite. Or at least his version of polite.

“But Michael helps me out a lot when studying so he knows a thing or two by now. He’s really supportive.” You said. It was true in that you often went to him to study but most of his help came from you practicing bandaging people up after his fights. Not that you were going to make the clarification to your parents.

Your mother nodded, eating your words up. “Well that’s great! It might be even better that you two don’t study the same thing, no competition or anything like that.”  

You loved your mother so much in that moment. At least she was making an effort. And how could you doubt her, really. She was the woman who raised you, the warmest person you knew.

Your father, however, was more blunt. Kind of like Michael. You wondered if having that in common would help them get along better or just dislike each other more.

“So how did you two meet?” Your mother continued, “Do you live on campus as well?”

Michael talked much more than you expected him to. And you were grateful when he responded to each question instead of just a nod or shake of the head. “I live a few blocks away from here. But we met on campus.”

It seemed he knew when to leave out some details as well. Telling them you met him bleeding and hurt after a fight would not have fared well.  

Your mother smiled tightly, “Oh. I suppose it’s easy to visit each other then.” Her gaze split to you and you saw the warning in them. She wasn’t a fan of the prospect of her daughter being alone in a boy’s house, especially one like Michael where he would be free to allure her into unconscionable things a woman like you should not do, particularly one that was raised to do things ‘correctly’ and in the confines of marriage. You hoped she would never have a hint otherwise even if what she was afraid of already happened, and much worse than she ever imagined. Even worse that you had enjoyed it so much, welcomed his allure even.

But before either you or Michael could answer, she continued. “Our little bird cried her eyes out when she moved out.”

“Mom.” You said, hiding your eyes shyly. You didn’t want to think of Michael’s thoughts at that moment, hearing you sound so childish. Maybe thats why your mom said it, knowing that didn’t fit in at all with Michael’s very mature look and aura.

But Michael was staring directly at you, smirking without meaning to. Even then, you were so pure, the worse in your life was leaving your parents. It was as if he was at last being clued into just how much he managed to taint your unsullied person, just how much he managed to change you. From a precious daughter who cried at the thought of parting with her parents, to a slut who cried for his cock and cum. And yet your parents was still blissfully unaware of how he corrupted you. He had to clench his jaw to stop himself from getting hard. 

“She adjusted really well.” His words were filled with a humor only you could understand. The double meaning that went lost to your parents ears, mostly because he knew they wouldn’t want to understand it so they didn’t. 

Your hand was on top of Michael’s on the table, your fingers tracing circles on his hands. Mostly to comfort yourself, but knowing it was helping Michael relax as well. Your father was staring at you with a clenched jaw, visibly frustrated with Michael’s answers, or lack thereof. Maybe he had been hoping that this was just a set up but to see your intimate and gentle interactions with Michael, it was evident that wasn’t the case. It looked wrong to him to even see Michael allow such touches from you when he clearly didn’t deserve it. Especially when he looked so cold. Both of your parents noticed it when they arrived, the coolness with which he regarded them and even you. The warmth you seemed to radiate was so strange next to his mean expression. 

But then the conversation was on you and your studies, your excited chatter filled the air, and Michael was glad for the reprieve. Though he felt as though eyes were still on him constantly. The things he would endure for you.

You had warned him that they were judgmental. But how could they have raised such an open minded girl, one that could’ve been capable of falling in love with him? Or perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps he really had ruined you in more ways than he thought. The thought filled him with a twisted, possessive pride.

“I’ll be right back, I have to bring the dessert from the kitchen.” Michael was getting ready to rise to join you when your mother jumped in. 

“Oh, I’ll help”

Your eyes widened in alarm at the thought of leaving your visibly frustrated father with Michael. “O-Oh. Actually, Michael was going to…”

“Nonsense. He’s a guest.”

You didn’t respond, just nodding tensely. Besides, what could you say? That Michael had spent more than enough days and nights here to no longer hold that guest status? Your parents might combust.

And it seemed as if your dad was waiting for an opportunity to finally speak because as soon as you were out of sight, his gaze was on Michael’s tall figure beside him.

“You know a man like you doesnt strike me as the type to be interested in my daughter.” He said, “You know with your certain look to you. Might scare them away.”

Didn’t scare your daughter away. Michael wanted to quip but your father continued before he had the chance to dwell on whether or not to speak his mind.

“I don’t figure that my little Y/N is your type of woman, normally. What changed?”

How had he gotten you. Was what he was trying to say. How did a man like Michael, get a girl like you. He was sure the rest of the world asked themselves the same question your parents were currently asking themselves. Why had you even given him the time of day? Sometimes he asked himself that too. But usually it filled him with satisfaction knowing how great of a girl he had gotten, to be able to arouse those questions.

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t the type of girl he usually would’ve gone for before meeting you. He’d never been with an inexperienced girl and your differences, perhaps if anyone else, would have dissuaded him from ever pursuing you. But he couldn’t pinpoint what changed, just that when he met you, none of that mattered.

Michael didn’t lift his own gaze from your father’s. This time not caring if he looked challenging or not and not bothering to try to speak more than just a clipped response. “I don’t know. But seems like I’m your daughter’s type, so it worked out for me.”

“Really, she’s not to...peppy for you? You seem much more .... stoic” 

In fact it’s the happiness you bring in his life that he loves so much. He wasn’t stoic with you but his smiles, laughs and chuckles were reserved only for you. And he loved seeing you look so shy and cute next to him. 

“No.”

Just as blunt as your father. And while it may not seem so to anyone beside you, he really was still trying to be as proper as possible. That included some slightly unmannerly responses and behaviors, but he wasn’t cursing or intimidating. So he counted that as a win.

If your father expected a boyfriend desperate for approval, he wasn’t in luck. Michael didn’t care for his acceptance or support. He didn’t care that your father’s face was turning red with anger; at the suggestion that his daughter, the one he raised so carefully, the gentle and smart one that they were so proud of, the one destined for a nice marriage with a nice rich man, could possibly be attracted to someone like him who, with the small portion of ink he could see, screamed bad news. Michael had an urge to let him in on a little secret; you were much more than just attracted to him, you were weak for him. He wondered how much angrier your father would be if he knew his daughter called him daddy too. 

“Listen here, Michael” He tried his best to be well mannered. “I don’t know what a guy like you wants with my daughter, your intentions. But it’s not what’s best for her, you’re not what’s best for her. She might be blinded from that right now but when she wakes up, and she will, you won’t be around for too long afterward. So take whatever sick fantasy you have away from her because guess what? She won’t be participating. She’s too smart to fall for it. I won’t let my little girl be defiled by someone like you.”

A little too late for that. He had lost count of how many times he made sure to cum all over your face to prove it. 

Michael was silent, staring at him with dangerous eyes. But even still, a taunting smirk was threatening to form on his lips. If only he knew that Michael had ‘his little girl’ on her knees yesterday with his cock down her throat.

Your father was right. He likely wasn’t what was best for you, you could do better. But Michael was a selfish man and you had already allowed yourself to be claimed by him, wanted him just as much as he did you. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him. The thought that your father was still worried about your cherished chastity with someone like him, just increased the lust fueling in him at the knowledge that he had already tarnished the sweet girl no one expected, or dreamed, to have been ensnared by someone like  him.

“She’s a big girl, now.” He said with a secretive smirk. “And I plan on staying for a very long time” He let his sentence stop there for your sake but the rest of his sentence hung between them in silence. so get used to it. Maybe whatever rich loser you wanted her to be with would be afraid of you or cared, but like you said: I’m not what’s best for her. So I don’t. 

Your father’s voice rose so much Michael was surprised you hadn’t heard and come running to defuse the situation. “Look at you! You can’t expect me to think you have good intentions with a girl that you tower over, one that still looks at the world with wonder and has nothing visibly in common with you. She’s never done drugs, never drank, doesn’t have tattoos, she dresses in pastels for God’s sake. One you can easily manipulate especially as it’s pretty obvious to anyone that has eyes that you are more….lived than she has been. She’s lived a sheltered life and that makes her susceptible to bad influences, one that try to take advantage of her for their own twisted desires or kinks.”

Michael didn’t even know if he could deny the accusation towards his intentions. He loved you, couldn’t imagine spending his life without you. He had nothing but good intentions in being with you. But yet, the intentions that swirled around in his mind constantly, the ones that saw you on your knees, bent over, crying for him, body moving alongside him, eliciting you to do every sinful desire, every bad influence, in his heart were anything but good. Only fueled by your tiny size, how everything about him was too big for you, your innocence and wide eyed look to the world, and how that is visible in the way you dress like a naive slut without even realizing it. You were the completely opposite of him and him being able to taint you, leave his mark on you in that way by using that pureness in all the dirty ways he saw fit was a kink he would never get sick of.

As much as Michael wanted to fight back against his words as angrily as he felt. He didn’t. Because he knew you would come back and fix everything and he didn’t want his lapse of judgement to stick in your father’s memories. Despite what he thought, Michael loved you and knew you enough to know that.

But his words held the same amount of punch nonetheless. “Trust me anything I do to her, I don’t have to manipulate her to do it.” He told you that he’d try with your parents. But he never promised that he would try that hard.

And just like he predicted, you were sprinting over to them in an instant. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard his words, only enough to see your father’s veins practically pop out. You stood between and it might’ve been to spite your father that Michael stood at that moment, resting his hand on your hips and pulling you into him protectively. The top of your head just skimming his chest. Showcasing to your parents in visual terms that he was your boyfriend. Maybe it was their worst decision ever to allow you to move out and into university. But it was too late to regret it now. In fact, watching that realization dawn on them, seeing firsthand just what he had taken from the world, a proper innocent girl. You were his now, introduced to sex and pleasure by his hand, ruining you, when that was never meant to happen, just seemed to stoke the fire burning in him.

“Dad!” You stared at your father with a hurt gaze, allowing your figure to be held tightly by Michael.

+

You sighed dramatically as you entered the kitchen. Knowing that if your mother insisted on coming with you it was because you were about to have a talk, one you definitely did not want to hear.

“Y/N.” She started and you slumped against the counter, crossing your arms defensively. Just when you were starting to think she liked him, that things were going more smoothly than they started to be. 

“If you’re here to judge my boyfriend, I’d rather not hear it, mom.”

Your mother nodded as if she was on your side. “Oh, darling. I know all girls go through this phase of liking the boys like this and you’re in college now so everything seems so new and interesting. But if this is just you rebelling or trying to prove something to your father and I. Like, I don’t know maybe you resent us from keeping you from experiencing your teen years then…”

“A phase?!” You stared at her with horror. “You think this is a phase? That I’m with Michael because I’m trying to prove a point or something, I’ve been with him for 2 years mother!”

“And you are just now introducing us, what does that tell you?”

“That I knew you’d act like this and I didn’t want him to be put in a position where he has to defend his very existence! I’m not ashamed of him.”

Your mother touched her forehead in exasperation. “Listen to yourself defending him. Boys like him…they’re only interested in one thing and I don’t want you getting swept up in it, because it isn’t you. Don’t think Maia hasn’t told me all about him, too” You might kill your best friend before this dinner is over. “I raised a kind, gentle, wholesome girl and I don’t want to see what someone like him can do to that when he is very obviously anything but. He’s a bad influence! Honey, really he looks so cold and tense, like he’s half a beat away from killing someone. Can he really give you the love and care you’re used to? That you deserve? He’s walking a different path than you are. And one day you’ll wake up from this and realize that your father and I are right and that we’re just looking out for what’s best for you. You should be with boys more like you. Like Daniel! You remember him from church when you were little? His mother tells me he studies here too and I hear he has grown up very well, I-”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Was your mother seriously attempting to set you up while your boyfriend was in the other room? 

She was partly right. Michael had been walking a different path than you and he had changed you. He had introduced you to things you never could have imagined and you have been side by side with things you’ve been warned all your life to never partake in but he never forced you, he respected boundaries and he wanted to keep you safe and pure as much as anyone.He taught you everything you knew about the world and what it had to offer, he opened your eyes and other parts of yourself and you never felt more exhilarated and safe than with him.

But how were you supposed to tell her that your love for Michael wasn’t a desperate attempt of rebelling or a phase to do so. That you were already swept up in what ‘boys like him’ wanted and you were all too happy to fulfill that. You loved everything she was warning you about. You loved his possessiveness and how wanted you felt with him, how he treated you like a princess, gently yet so roughly. How he was so much bigger he could throw you around however he wanted and you were oh so happy to be his submissive toy. You felt cared for, despite him looking colder than he really was; in fact even more knowing you were an exception in his life, that he was only that way with you. Everything he taught you about sex and pleasure and how good he made you feel. 

 You weren’t going to wake up one day and see what they claimed was the truth. Because the real truth was, you couldn’t be happier with Michael. A man who respected you and made you feel like the center of the world, you’d never felt more loved and cared for than you did with him. And the thought of dating someone like Daniel when you’d already had a taste of Michael, his danger, his protection, his adoration, was dreadfully boring and distasteful.

You were going over your head how you were going to explain all this when the rough clanging of silverware sounded from the dining room. You’d been with Michael enough to know the sound of problem when you heard it. So you dashed away from the kitchen, leaving your mother to trail behind you without a word.

+ 

You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak. You saw your father’s angry face, replacing his usual collected strict one, but you didn’t even want to hear what Michael could have said to trigger it.

“I was so excited.” Your voice broke despite yourself, your eyes turning glassy. “I was so happy that the three most important people in my life were finally going to meet because I wanted you to love each other just as much as I love each of you.”

You squared your shoulders, happy that your parents were at least giving you the decency of listening. “The last thing I wanted was to subject my boyfriend to feeling inferior or like he isn't welcome or accepted. He doesn’t deserve that and I love him too much to put him in this position.” 

You felt Michael’s hands tighten around your figure but you kept talking. It broke his heart to see just how happy you had started the day and how you had finished it. “He might not be what you expected but I want to make it clear that the way I described him to you when I mentioned him, that is how I see him and it’s not my fault you’re too stuck on appearances or stereotypes to see that. He’s not taking advantage of me and he’s not a bad influence or using me or whatever I represent to satisfy some…perversion or whatever you think.” 

You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke that way to your parents. But at that moment, you couldn’t really care. You were too hurt, the excitement and hope you felt at the beginning was squashed and instead there was just a fierce protectiveness for the love of your life. “Michael tried but you couldn’t even give him that? I love him and he loves me and I've never felt more secure in being loved, adored or protected. He always looks out for me and never lets me do something that is bad for me. He has never pressured me to do anything and in fact, he's stopped me from being pressured to do things I’ve never done or wanted to do before. I can see a future with him and yet my own parents won’t even take the time to get to know him without already having made up their minds.”

It was your tears that had your parents glancing at each other guiltily before back to you. They weren’t being fair and while their minds were certainly not changed about Michael, they understood their need to at least tolerate him, especially when he meant so much to the only person that mattered in their eyes: you.

Your father spoke first, his eyes jumping around to avoid staring directly at Michael but he nodded as he forced his words out. “You’re right, darling. We’re sorry, to you and Michael. I think we just got caught off guard, plus we were already not going to like him - being your first boyfriend and all. Can’t blame us for being worried.”

And Michael should’ve expected it from his too kind girlfriend when you smiled through your shed tears. You nodded at his words as an acceptance of the apology, just happy they gave Michael one in the first place. You sniffled tearfully. “Of course, daddy. Thank you.” 

Okay, Michael would seriously have to force you to stop saying that to your father or else your dad would really hate him. And he’s afraid he wouldn’t give less of a fuck.

But then your parents were sitting down again, a time for a restart and so Michael guided you down, rubbing his hand up and down soothingly on your back. He knew your parents wouldn’t really ever change their minds about him - especially when, if he was honest, a lot of what they said about him deserving you or how he was changing you, were correct. But they didn’t understand your dynamic, that that very corruption of you was his favorite part. And he was teaching you to love it just as much.

“Yes, again, I’m very sorry Michael.” Your mother nodded at him, “And thank you, if all that she just said is true about looking out for her. Actually, we wanted to thank you. Since you started dating, our little bird has really stepped out of her shell.” You whined embarrassed and Michael fought back a smirk, he was helping you with that all right. But maybe your mother wouldn’t be thankful for that if she knew the truth. But your father just nodded along. 

Michael didn’t respond. He wasn't protecting you for your parents, he would protect you even without them. 

“We wondered who this man was that was helping her so much but now I see it’s because you’re so….free spirited” The reference to Michael’s tattoos couldn’t be more obvious. He couldn’t be nice to Michael even if he tried. But maybe a backhanded compliment was better than a boxing match. 

Michael hadn’t even wanted to wear an uncomfortable long sleeved shirt, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide all his ink anyway and he didn’t really care too much about the difference in your parents reactions if they’ll react negative to their daughters boyfriend having neck and hand tattoos anyway. But right then he thought maybe he had made the best choice. 

Michael watched them carefully. Tolerate. That’s all their new behavior was towards him and he could appreciate that. Because equally, he was forcing himself to be as proper as his mind would let him towards them. Of course, that didn’t mean he was anxious about their acceptance or good feelings towards him.

He had a feeling any future meetings would be like that, the knowing that neither of them really approved of him, the sneaky attempts of guiding you away but the general fake pleasantries thrown his way. And he would try not to ruin that by letting his anger cause him to speak his mind, he could be proper. 

And either you were blissfully unaware of the tense peace compromise between them or you didn’t care, but you just laid your head to rest on his shoulder as you listened to your parents prod more into Michael’s life, asking questions about their daughters boyfriend as if they were accepting him into their lives. You couldn’t be more grateful. And happy. It felt like it was true, your most loved ones were living side by side in harmony. It was everything you wanted and more. A bubbly smile filled your face that your parents, despite themselves, noted how starkly it stood out next to Michael’s tough face. 

They hadn’t tried to take you away from him, you were still in his arms. Along with the pride he felt at you standing up for him when you didn’t have to, when he was very aware of your feelings for him and secure in them. He felt more appreciative than he would ever let you know. All of that that was enough for Michael to play along, play nice and just wait for this entire meeting to be over with. Wait until he could finally be alone with you and content, like he wanted. Like he only ever was when it was just you two.

Besides, despite his best attempts, all these reminders of your differences had left him hornier than he would like to admit. His desires were flaring up to have your parents ‘pure little daughter who he didn’t deserve’ moaning under him. They couldn’t leave fast enough. 

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

hello~ i saw you’re taking fluff ABC requests! can i get comte with C H J L S Y please? i hope thats not too much (if it is then just the first 3 will be fine), thank you!!! :)

Hiya friend! You absolutely may, not to worry, I love writing about Comte!! You’re very welcome, and I hope you enjoy my rambles :D 💖💖💖 Below a cut for length!

Fluffy ABC headcanons listed here for requests!

C = Cuddling (how does he like to cuddle?)

His favorite way to cuddle tends to be with her in his lap in any permutation of that position. Usually she’s sitting on his thighs with her legs over the arm of a chair/on the other side of the couch, or she’s all curled up between his legs (she feels guilty about being too heavy and making his legs fall asleep, no matter how much Comte protests). She’ll lean against his chest and close her eyes, or hug him around his shoulders and snuggle close to his neck while he wraps his arms around her waist. From time to time his hand might fall to her thigh, stroking gently, or he might drop a kiss to her forehead/shoulder--anywhere he can reach, really. Either way, it’s a very comfortable position for both of them; he’ll always have a blanket ready to drape over her in the winter time since she often falls asleep that way. He loves it because he can watch over her and soak in some quality time at his leisure, no demands being made of him and no chaos to resolve. Just the quiet, the crackle of a hearth/fire perhaps, and the rhythmic sound of her breathing--beating heart steady. She’s safe, she’s warm, she’s cherished, and she’s content; what more could he ask for? (She loves it too because she just loves being wrapped up in the scent of him and in his arms, falls asleep so readily because of how comforted she feels ;-;).

He also loves having her legs around his hips when she’s in his lap--but that usually leads to sexy times, and this is fluff hour, my darlings ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

H = Holding Hands (when/how does he like to hold hands?)

Literally the only time this man would ever say no to hand-holding is when he has to actively use his hands for something else. (Basically sees her empty hand and sees his own empty hand and is just the “Is for me? 👉👈” meme). Otherwise he would die before saying no. That being said, he tends to be pretty practical and chill about it. Out on the town? Likes to hold her hand to keep her close, likes showing off his favorite person in the world, loves the feel of her hand against his own--warm. (From time to time his thumb will drift to her fluttering pulse along her wrist and he’ll sigh blissfully; it reduces his terrifying intrusive worries about losing her suddenly to mere background noise.) 

Usually it’ll just be her hand in his, but when it comes to sexy times he’s more partial to their fingers being intertwined ;)

J = Jokes (does he like to joke around with or prank her? how?)

Okay but this one made me laugh, only because my first thought was “he’s a clown s2g”. What I mean to say is that he’s a huge tease; really enjoys gently flustering his love. He’d never cross boundaries or do anything appalling, but he will ask her to do things that make her bashful because he thinks it’s absolutely adorable/endearing to see her out of sorts. Seduction is the name of his game, and he intends to see both of them have fun along the way (he’s a lovable rascal). Will ask her to undress him after a long day to enjoy the blush on her cheeks in the privacy of their room, or ask her to kiss him goodbye at the door if he has to go into town to run an errand. They will be simple little requests, or even observations sometimes~

One surefire way to surprise him/get him back though is to respond to his teasing with utterly serious love--it makes him freeze in his tracks every single time. If she anticipate his moves, he will be completely baffled for a moment. For example, say it’s his usual tea time and he’s really absorbed in his work (or he’s pretending to be). “MC would you mind--” Be one step ahead of him, hold that macaroon up to his lips like “Don’t worry, sweetheart, leave it to me--say ah~” And he will literally scream internally and die; he won’t ever see it coming. 

Note: this will lead to rigorous love-making in one way or another (either that moment or later that night) so be forewarned if she seeks to thwart him HAHA 

Beyond that, though, I think he and his MC are also a naturally light-hearted couple; they find fun wherever they are and joke around easily. Whether that means teasing each other, or just snickering over puns/nonsense.

L = Love (how does he show her he loves her?) Take two! I did another one with a different spin on it without realizing because I’m literally too in love with him to stop

If I’m honest? I think Comte’s biggest indicator of genuine, abiding love is vulnerability. He is always overcompensating, always acting to make other people comfortable; always a little too giving. If MC can encourage him to be greedy, to let down his guard with her--to be less than polished and perfect and magnanimous to the point of self-silencing--that is the greatest way he can show love. It means he trusts her to see him for all that he is, hiding nothing, and isn’t afraid that doing so will mean losing her forever. People can rely on him too much, ask for too much, and while he does love answering people’s needs and seeing them happy, at the end of the day he can neglect himself sometimes. She coaxes him out of his protective isolation slowly by showing him that he’s safe and loved even when he gets a little needy for affection, a little needy for reassurance. When she shows him that he’s still adorable and sweet and precious when he asks for help, he is like putty in her hands. Fair warning to MC though--if she does this she better be prepared to be spoiled tenfold in return; he can’t help himself!

S = Secrets (how open is he with her?)

Comte is a slow burn through and through my friends; he needs time to really open up. It’s not that he thinks MC will betray his trust or regard him with indifference; rather, he doesn’t have much confidence others will like him in his more vulnerable state. (And honestly, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if people have toyed with his weaknesses in the past. Yes, Vlad, I’m looking at you.) He just assumes he’s a lot of baggage, that the truth of who he is and how he thinks is just too depressing. He tends to hide his more overwhelming feelings and loneliness, tends to hide what he wants; he doesn’t want to impose on others or burden them. That being said, if one pays attention to his tells, if she shatters the illusion of his composure with confident concern, he will begin to share what he’s thinking more and more. He will give up the facade slowly, reach out to her more consistently as she offers him a safe, sensitive place to rest. (I feel like his biggest indicator is sudden silence: if he doesn’t know what to say it’s usually because he’s either caught off guard or overwhelmed by emotion, and he needs a second to conceal it). 

I don’t think he’ll ever be completely open with his feelings like that in any kind of public setting. He needs the comfort of privacy, the truth of who he is hers and hers alone; it is a privilege that belongs to his beloved. He will share bits and pieces of himself outside, snapshots of what he’s truly like, but the entirety of his selfhood will be concealed only between them two. 

Y = Yes (how would he propose to her?)

Haha, this will actually come up in his MS and a future event, so look forward to it! But there are some big points to hit home when it comes to his proposal process. 

First and foremost, he doesn’t give a single fuck what others think. He considers marriage and everything that comes with it secondary to the truth that lies between him and his cherished one. Does she want to stay by his side, and is she ready for that level of commitment? Before he ever goes public with the depth of their ties, he needs to know that they are on the same page without equivocation in private. And more importantly, what her comfort zones are. Does she even want marriage? Does she want it to be a public affair, or would she prefer less fanfare? How does she want to go about this?

He thinks marriage in and of itself is a cheap promise for eternal creatures; it’s too lodged in social convention and cultish religious tradition to mean squat to him. He will take their bond seriously, and he will absolutely respect her feelings about marriage, but he wants something more timeless and equal between them--something not easily severed. He will wait as long as he needs to for her to be ready for that. Marriage to him is more of a universally acknowledged symbol of their union; a way for other people to recognize that they’re devoted to someone else, and a way for him to express deep romantic feeling openly. As long as he knows at the end of the day that they’ll always be together on their own terms, side by side, that’s really all that matters to him.

His proposal will begin in private; it will be an intimate, fairly solemn moment between them. Is she ready to become a vampire’s bride? Can she accept that kind of future, and everything that comes with it? He doesn’t want her to be socially pressured by a crowd or even himself and the other residents of the mansion--he wants this to be her choice and vow, through and through. This isn’t about getting her to agree, this is about gauging where she is emotionally. If she needs more time to be sure, he’s happy to give it (but when he proposes he will have paid very careful attention to her potential receptivity; it is unlikely he would jump the gun and risk frightening her).

He will take her to a little church at midnight, well into the darkest hours of the night. Each breath will hang like a whisper in the air, swallowed by the cool and amplified by the quiet. He will try to provide a dress for her, but if she’s partial to one she already has, he won’t protest (he will just pout because he LIVES to buy her dresses and this is a special occasion, one he intends to remember forever ;-;). He’ll take a moment at the altar where a ceremonial binding would usually happen, and pause. 

He looks more serious than usual, his expression penetrating. He’ll take her hands in his own, squeeze them gently as her gaze finds his. The silence is gentle, but anticipatory--charged with what’s to come. He speaks slowly and softly.

“I’ve asked you before, but I’m going to ask one more time, here and now; a vow between us. Will you stay by my side, a vampire’s bride, for as long as this life gives us? Will you marry me someday?”

They’ve talked about the prospect before, and she’s already proved her mettle--she has expressed no intention of letting him go. Even if that means becoming like him in the future to stay together, even if that means facing the grief of losing human friends and family. She knows what it means to agree to this bond, and she’s thought it through; she knows this is what she wants. She dreads a future devoid of his presence so much more than any necessity to forfeit her mortality.

“Of course I will,” her answer is equally soft but firm, every bit the woman he fell in love with; sensitivity lined with steel. 

The next second she’s leaping into his arms and he laughs, melting into the delight of her certainty, relieved to know he isn’t alone (and won’t be alone ever again), more in love than he ever thought he could be. He holds her tight for a moment before letting go, pressing a kiss to her left ring finger--one he fully intends to adorn with a proper ring of his choosing (he was having it made to suit her so it would take a little longer to be ready, one of a kind).

That being said whenever she’s ready (or wants) to have a public ceremony, he’s ready with bells on! He will listen very, very carefully to the customs she recognizes as binding and the kind of wedding she wishes for, and will essentially ensure that the process reflects a balance of their mutual desires (as always, leaning into what she wants a little more). He’s also a hopeless romantic, so despite his private feelings about marriage, he will enact all the cute little traditions he’s picked up along his long, long life that express earnest wishes/prayers for a bride's happiness. If it makes her smile--and sometimes cry happy tears--then he thinks it simply makes all those years he waited for her to enter his life worth it.

[onetwosevensquad]

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

[dork-empress]

Yellow Flowers and Punch

Rating: General Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandom: Trollhunters (Cartoon)

Relationship: Steve Palchuk/Eli Pepperjack

Characters: Steve Palchuk Eli Pepperjack Toby Domzalski Darci Scott Mary Wang Shannon Longhannon

Additional Tags: First Dates Homecoming Bad date Bullying Alcohol

Eli waits anxiously for his first 'date' with Steve, but some of Steve's friends arrive to spoil the party

I was going to have this as one section of a 5+1 I'm writing, but it exploded so I'll do something else for that section.

Goes along with my fic 'You're Alright' but can probably be read independently, theres just reference to the fact Steve asked Eli to homecoming.

“Mooooom,” Eli whined, “It’s not prom, you don’t need to take pictures.”

“But you have a DATE!” She said, practically jumping up and down, “And you look so handsome and fancy! We have to commemorate the occasion.”

Eli groaned and mumbled under his breath that it wasn’t a date. Though, truth be told he wasn’t sure about that. Steve had asked him out to the dance while they were stargazing and had spelled out the question in christmas lights, which was romantic as all hell and made Eli strongly believe his heart was going to burst. But still, Steve had never said it was a date, and Eli didn’t want to assume.

Then again, he’d never said it was ‘just as friends’ either. His heart did a little jump every time he reminded himself of that.

The doorbell rang. “Oh! That’s probably him!” His mother squealed, going to answer before Eli could move.

“Mom don’t--” Eli wasn’t even sure what he was going to warn his mother against, but he felt like there should be something.

Ignoring her son, Mrs. Pepperjack opened the door to reveal Steve, standing with a flower in hand. “Oh, how sweet! Eli, come look.” Eli came over, shrugging his shoulders. Flowers...that was DEFINITELY Romantic, right?

Steve smiled. “You look nice,” Eli looked down at his own outfit, a green button down and khaki slacks. His mom made him wear a tie, shiny and silver. She had to tie it for him.

“Thanks,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you too,” Steve was a bit more classic, white shirt, blazer, and bow tie. Eli wondered if he was nervous too.

Steve handed him the flowers, “here,” he said a touch too forcefully. Eli smirked, taking them. They were yellow, and didn’t look in the best condition. Yellow flowers meant friendship, right? Oh god this was confusing.

“Thanks,” He said nervously.

“Here, let me take those and put them in water,”Mrs. Pepperjack snatched the flowers up and rushed to the kitchen, “don’t move! I need pictures of the both of you!”

“Mooom,” Eli whined, but Steve snorted.

“No worries, Mrs. P!” Steve smirked.

Neither of them met each other’s eyes or spoke as they waited. The photos were stiff and awkward, and then Eli rushed them both out of the house.

“I am sooooo sorry,” Eli said instantly, as Steve led him to his Vespa, “she gets excitable.”

“Gee, I wonder who that reminds me of,” Steve said. Eli frowned at him, “you’ve never seen the way your face gets when you talk about conspiracies have you?”

Eli covered his face, “is it bad?”

Steve chuckled, “Nah. Not at all.” He got on his Vespa, “Come on, let’s do this.”

Eli started shaking as they made their way into the gymnasium, while Steve stood up taller, emboldened by the presence of his schoolmates. Eli was not emboldened. Eli was terrified.

Immediately they were immersed in the low buzz of chatter covered by the music booming from the speakers. They’d gotten Krel to DJ this year, and it seemed like he was still trying some of his more experimental stuff. It was early enough in the dance that people weren’t really dancing yet, just milling. Eli’s eyes darted around the room, seeing where they could go, or what they could do.

“Hey, Steve,” A cold chill ran through Eli’s spine as he recognized the voice belonging to Brad, one of Steve’s football buddies. “What took you so long, man?”

Brad and their other friend, Kevin, came over, full bro stride in process. Eli knew exactly how fast he would have to walk to try and escape that stride, but he fought his instincts and stayed in place. “Hey, guys!” Steve said, grinning broadly, and unintentionally copying their posture. Eli wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. “Whatsup?”

Brad and Kevin came over, giving Steve the traditional bro-hug. Their eyes inevitably turned on Eli, and Kevin’s smirk turned to a scowl. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

Eli shrunk into himself, wishing upon wish that he could face high school bullies with the same confidence as he faced literal monsters.

Thankfully, he wasn’t alone this time. Steve shoved Kevin back, “Not cool man.” he said, frowning and beefing himself up to the perfect ‘alpha male’ posture. “I told you to lay off him now.”

“Yeah, man,” Brad said, snickering, “Didn’t you here. Little buddies a full-grown freak-slayer now.” Brad hooked Eli into a half-Nelson and noogied the top of his head. It was a stupid thing to be thinking about, but he worked hard on his hair! He didn’t want it messed up.

“Well, takes one to slay one, I guess,” Kevin said, laughing, “Steve, come on, Brad got stuff to spike the punch bowl, it’s gonna be hilarious.”

Steve actually laughed, and it felt like a punch to Eli’s gut. “Yeah, sure, sounds fun,” Steve said, “I’ll keep cover.”

Brad and Kevin walked as non-chalantly over to the snack table as they could, which wasn’t exactly subtle. Steve went to follow and Eli grabbed his arm. “You’re not actually going to spike the punch bowl, are you?”

Steve shrugged, “Why not? It’s funny.”

A hundred responses flew by Eli’s mind, and he didn’t know where to start. “You’re going to get in trouble!” he said urgently, wishing he could whisper, but it was impossible with the music. It sounded like whale songs.

“Only if I get caught,” Steve said with a wink, that Eli would have found charming if he weren’t so devastated. “I’ll come find you after, ok? The dance should have picked up by then. Alright?”

Eli wanted to explain how what Steve was doing was wrong, wanted to yell at him for leaving him two minutes after they arrived...but all he did was say, “Alright” and watch as Steve ran off.

And there he was, stranded in a hot, stuffy room with all his classmates. In other news, his worst nightmare. Well, one of his worst nightmares. It was in the top 5.

His tie started feeling too tight, and no matter how many times he adjusted it, it felt like a noose. The music was pounding in his ears with no sense of melody. Whatever it was made his blood feel like it was pulsing out of his eardrums, ready to burst.

He heard a familiar voice and picked his head up. “Hey, Eli!” the words became clear through the music. Toby was calling him. “Come over here!”

Reluctant to move from his spot, Eli made his way over. Toby was with Darcy (dressed in her mascot costume for some reason) Aja, Shannon, and Mary. Darcy and Shannon were chatting about something, Mary on her phone, either trying to text, take a selfie, or both, it was unclear, and Aja was dancing along to Krel’s odd music, in moves Eli had never seen. “Hey, what’s up!” Toby said, “You ready to battle it out for homecoming king?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” Eli said. He’d been so consumed with worry about his date, he’d forgotten the competition, “Can’t wait.”

“So, we’re trying to form a dance circle,” Darcy said, being pulled from her conversation with Shannon, “You know, really get the party started.”

“You can dance with me, for now!” Mary said, “My date from Northwest Oaks is running late, and Shannon says she’ll dance with Aja.” They all turned to the platinum blonde briefly, but then Mary put a hand to her mouth and did her best to whisper, “Although we haven’t figured out HOW yet.”

Eli swallowed. It was nice of her to say so, everyone knew the popular girls didn’t really like to be seen with the complete-total-loser boys. The very cynical part of Eli’s brain wondered if it was because she knew he was gay, and was only willing because she might get a ‘cool gay best friend.’ Some girls had tried to put him in that position before. It did not work out. “Um, actually,” he said, “I’m with someone.” He didn’t specify whether he meant at the dance or in life. Frankly, he didn’t know.

The girls didn’t mind, cooing as one “oooOOOOooooh,” “Eli’s got a date!” Shannon said.

“Oh my gosh!” Mary said, jumping on the balls of her feet, “WhoisitwhoisitwhoISIT?!”

Eli blushed and massaged the back of his neck. “Steve,” he said, soft enough they might not have heard.

Their blank stares told him they did. “Wait,” Toby said, blinking as though he was trying to figure out a math problem. “You mean, Steve Palchuk? That Steve?”

“Yeah,” Eli said, shifting uncomfortably. It had seemed like such a wonderful idea at the time, but now….now he wasn’t sure.

“Wow,” Shannon said, trying to sound intrigued, “I--definitely wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah,” Darci agreed, “I mean, I heard you guys were doing that...that creepslayer thing, right?” Eli nodded, “Well, I guess he’s changed a lot in the past year.”

“He has,” Eli said, meaning it, as he smiled. “We’ve spent a lot of time together this summer, it was great.”

“Aw, thats nice,” Mary said, “Where is he now?”

Eli’s face fell. He didn’t know how to explain or excuse what Steve was doing.

“Well, as long as you’re happy,” Shannon said.

Was he happy? Eli shifted uncomfortably. “I…” Eli swallowed, “I have to go.”

He ran out of the gym as quickly as he could without bringing too much attention to himself. He wasn’t sure how much success he had there, but it was an attempt.

As a general rule, he tended to avoid public school bathrooms, choosing instead to go right before class, and once right when he got home. It was dirty and covered in graffiti, a great deal of it inappropriate, and he didn’t even want to think about what was under his shoes. Still, this was his best shot at avoiding Coach Lawrence wandering around the school looking for strays.

He locked himself in a stall, resting his back on the back of the door. He took a breath, trying to figure out whether it was worth calling his mom to come pick him up. He sniffed, remembering how excited she was. Remembering how excited HE was. He really thought he and Steve had a chance.

The bathroom door opened and he stood still. “Hey, Eli, you in here?”

Eli stood perfectly still, trying to move as little as possible. It was Steve. Eli wasn’t sure he wanted to see him right then. “Eli,” Steve said, “I can see your zip slips underneath the stall door.”

Dammit. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the stall, hanging his head. “Hey,” Steve said, his voice going down to his kind voice and reaching out to hold Eli’s arms. “What’s going on?”

Eli shrugged, and tried to turn away, but ever so gently, Steve turned him back. “Talk to me.”

“Why would you want to talk to me now?” Eli muttered, “you seemed fine just talking to your friends.”

Steve frowned, “What? Are you talking about Brad and Kevin? We were just messing around a bit, I told you I’d be right back.”

Eli rolled his eyes, “That’s what you call ‘messing around?’ Spiking everyone’s punch?”

“Oh come on,” Steve said, “It’s funny!”

“It’s not!” Eli said, his voice raising, “It’s bullying!”

The word hit Steve like a bulldozer. He visibly recoiled, letting Eli’s arms go. “What? No it isn’t! It’s just a stupid prank, we’re not picking on anyone.”

“Getting people drunk who don’t want to be is mean!” Eli said, “Even if it’s not directed at one person, it’s STILL mean!”

Steve gawked at him, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “It--It’s just watered down vodka!” he said, “People probably won’t even notice that stuff.”

“If they won’t notice, what’s the fucking point?” Eli said, feeling all his despair turning to anger. Steve gaped at him, not able to respond, “God, why do you even hang out with those guys?”

“What, Brad and Kevin?” Steve said, “They’re my friends!”

“Are they?” Eli asked, “You never saw them over the summer, I know ‘cause you were with me most of that time. You guys only seem to hang out at football or when you’re picking on people.” Eli very generously said ‘people’ and not ‘me.’

“Hey, we’ve gotten a lot better recently,” Steve said, “We’re learning.”

“YOU’RE learning,” Eli said, “Around me, at least. You go right back to being mean and aggressive when they’re around. And they….” he trailed off, not even knowing how to describe Kevin and Brad.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Eli, have they done something to you when I wasn’t there?”

Eli didn’t know how to answer that either. They respected Steve’s wishes to leave Eli alone, with physical stuff at least. They didn’t stop their snide comments, though, and Eli would always remember being in middle school with them. Steve didn’t know how awful they could get. “Kevin literally just called me a freak in front of you.”

“What?” Steve asked, “No he didn’t!”

“Brad said I was a ‘freak-slayer’ and Kevin said ‘it takes one to slay one.’”

Steve spluttered, “That--that was just messing around,” Steve said. “He was just teasing you, we tease each other all the time.”

“Well his ‘teasing’ feels a lot like ‘bullying,’” Eli said, “And I would know.”

Steve actually flinched, and that made Eli feel both guilty and a bit satisfied at the same time. “We didn’t mean anything,” He said, “I’ll tell them to stop.”

Eli took a deep breath, “Fine,” he said, “And you have to tell Coach Lawrence about the spiked punch.”

“What?” Steve said, “Come on, Eli, it was just a joke!”

“It’s mean!” Eli said, “There are ways to pull pranks without hurting them! And besides that it’s just a jackass move!”

Steve blinked at him, “Did you just call me a jackass?”

Eli swallowed, his sudden burst of confidence starting to fade. “Well, you’re being one right now.”

Steve bit his tongue, turning to lean on the bathroom wall, something Eli would not have done, especially in Steve’s nice outfit. “This is a pretty terrible first date isn’t it?”

Eli blinked, feeling a shock go through his system. “So, this WAS a date…”

Steve looked up, in shock. “Of COuRSE it was a date!” he said, his voice breaking. “I LITERALLY spelled it out in lights and...and I took you out stargazing….and I. I got you flowers!”

“See, I thought that,” Eli said, blushing, “But you hadn’t said it, and like, the flowers were yellow, and I think that means friendship? Or I heard that once, anyway.”

“They do?” Steve said, “Flip!” He sighed and looked off to the side, “I knew I shouldn’t have waited til last minute to buy those.”

Eli bit his lip, stepping forward. “Well, I did WANT it to be a date…” Eli said, rocking himself back and forth, “I mean, that’s why I wasn’t sure, I thought maybe I was just looking to into things or maybe had wishful thinking or something.”

Steve frowned at him. “Stop it,” he said.

Eli tilted his head, “Stop what?”

“Stop being so cute.” Steve said, “I’m in emotional turmoil here.”

Eli couldn’t help but chuckle. He stepped forward, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. And lecturing you. And calling you a jackass….”

Steve sighed, “No, you were right. I am a jackass.”

“Hey,” Eli said, “Look, you really HAVE been being better. I wouldn’t have agreed to what may possibly have been a date if you hadn’t.” He stepped right in front of Steve.

Steve hung his head, “I just….I want to be a good person. I’m trying. I just keep messing up.”

“That’s ok,” Eli said, Steve frowned up at him. “No, really. Look, you were….kinda terrible for a long time.” Steve winced, “But no one’s cursed to be like that. You’re trying to be better, and thats huge. One mistake doesn’t set that back. It’s just a matter of KEEP trying.”

Steve groaned. “It’s hard.”

“Being a good person usually is,” Eli agreed, “But that’s what it means to be a creepslayer.”

Trying to be encouraging, Eli held up his half of the symbol. With a smirk, Steve completed it. “I’m glad I have you around to help me.”

Eli smiled, “Of course.”

They both dropped their hands. “Hey, Eli,” Steve said, “Can I ask you on a date? A real date? Next Friday, maybe?”

Eli nodded, “Yes.”

Steve’s face broke into a grin. “Nice,” Steve got back up and wrapped Eli up in a hug. Eli froze up for a moment, but relaxed, holding Steve close.

Eli smiled to himself, resting on Steve’s chest. Steve rocked him slowly back and forth. “Hey, Steve?” Eli said. Steve hummed in answer, “As romantic as it is standing in the middle of the boys’ bathroom…”

“You wanna head back to the dance?”

“That would be best, yes.”

They seperated and Steve held out his hand. Blushing, Eli took it and let Steve lead him out.

Back in the gymnasium, the dancing had picked up, playing some modern EDM music. Eli enjoyed the snack table while Steve went over to talk with Coach Lawrence, before making his way back. “Well, I’m grounded,” he said, “AND I have Saturday detention, which I think having one person give two different punishments is just too much,” He scowled over to where Coach Lawrence was removing the punch bowl, “But, I get to stay at the dance.”

Eli smiled, “That’s great,” he said, getting Steve a cookie. “I guess we’ll have to push the date back?”

“Oh flip,” Steve said, sighing. “Well...the grounding only lasts until the detention next week. So, why don’t we have the date then? I’ll pick you up after?”

Eli nodded, “Sounds good.”

Steve smiled, reaching down to grab Eli’s hands, pulling him to the outskirts of the crowd. “Wait,” Eli said, pulling back, “Steve I’m really bad at dancing.”

Steve shrugged, “Me too,” he said, “Come on.”

And they were. They were so bad at dancing. If either of them were trying to do it themselves, no doubt they would be embarrassed, but together, they had fun. Eventually, Aja wandered over to them, seeming to be inspired by their erratic movements, which brought over Toby, Darcy, Mary, and Shannon.

They retired back to the tables, laughing together and eating way too many unhealthy foods. Eli could feel some of his classmates stares at them, and worse, saw Steve noticing them, and looking a little self-conscious. He knew the both of them must have seemed like an odd pair. Still, Eli had fun.

The music died down, and people looked up at the stage. “Settle down, students!” Ms. Janeth said, “It is now time to announce the homecoming king and queen. This year’s queen, is…Darcy Scott!” Darcy cheered in her mascot outfit, but more than her, Toby was practically jumping up and down. The both of them ran up to the stage, the crown lowering a crown onto Darcy’s head.

“And this year’s King is….Eli Pepperjack.”

Eli’s eyes went wide as he stared up at the stage, unsure if he could trust his own ears. Heads from all across the gymnasium turned to him, “Come on, Peppers!” Steve said, grabbing his shoulders, “It’s the year of Eli!” He pulled Eli up onto the stage, like a marionette on strings being poorly puppeted.

He then felt like his strings got cut when Steve let him go so Ms. Janeth could put the crown on his head. He turned all around, but in that half second, Steve had disappeared, Toby was there, smiling at him and clapping, as was Darcy. In the crowd he saw Brad and Kevin snickering, and it made him more afraid the longer he didn’t have Steve next to him.

“Steve?” He said softly, “Steve?”

“Right here,” Steve said, appearing at his side, “Just had to talk to Krel.”

“Krel?” Eli asked, confused under the heavy lights. He felt like he was going to fall over as he twirled to the DJ. Krel was going through a playlist, frowning, and picking one.

Familiar synth notes filled the gymnasium, making Eli perk up his head even through his anxiety. “Is this...is this what I think it is?” He asked

One moment later, they were being serenaded by the wonderful voice of Cyndi Lauper. Steve shrugged, “You like 80’s music right?”

Eli blushed. He never thought he would have his first real slow dance to the song ‘Time after Time,’ but he wasn’t sure if he could have picked a better one if he tried. MAYBE ‘Take my breath away’ but he was happy with this.

Steve pulled him in, grabbing his hips. Eli felt embarrassed that he seemed to be doing the ‘girls’ part, but even with a growth spurt, Steve was appreciably taller, so that helped. Across the stage, Darci and Toby were dancing. “So,” Eli said, “I guess this makes you my duke,” he said, as they both awkwardly swayed back and forth. It probably looked so dorky, but in the little bubble of Steve’s arms, Eli didn’t care.

“I’ll take it,” Steve said, swaying with him. “I guess this is me coming out to the school, huh?” He self consciously looked over his shoulder.

“I would tell you it gets better,” Eli said, “But it kinda only JUST did for me, so, I don’t know what’s going to happen now.”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, I kinda knew what I was getting into here,” he said, “I guess all we can do is just...keep dancing?”

Eli smiled and laid his head on Steve’s shoulder, “Sounds good to me.”

[dolly-decadatia]

12/3 S.C notes Chap 7 continued

South- fire 🔥: the element of transformation, of passion and change, success, health, and strength. An oil lamp or piece of lava rock can be used as well.

 West: water 💦- a cup or bowl of water can be placed in the west. Water is the realm of the emotions, of the psychic mind, love, healing, beauty and emotional spirituality

 The altar should go in the center (according to Scott) but you have to be flexible about the amount of space you have. Some of us have to place it in a corner or against a wall. I for one currently live in a shitty trailer and will be moving into a tiny rv once my lease is up. It behooves me to not fixate on “my altar MUST be dead ass center in the circle.” A lot of us probably have similar poverty related space constraints.

 Generally the altar is set up facing north (but see my thoughts above).

 Take his altar set up with a huge grain of salt. He’s gendered it. He says the left is goddess, the right god and he’s gendered inanimate objects to reflect cis genitalia and assigned them to the left or right. Cis pussy to the left, cis dick on the right. It’s not so much transphobic as it is just weird and creepy. I probably want to completely design my own altar lay out to avoid this weird dick and pussy fixation. I need to double check how LaVey had his set up. It’s been a really long time since I actually practiced Satanism and I don’t remember his set up. I know he has a straight up phallus on his supply list but imo having. A representation of genitalia that looks like genitalia is less weird and creepy that randomly deciding Wands and athames are cocks and cocks somehow automatically are male. I think LaVey’s phallus was supposed to represent lust or something. Idk, I need to reread it. Don’t quote me.

 If you’re working magic in the circle ⭕️, all necessary items should be within it before you begin, either on the altar or beneath it. Never forget to have matches handy, and a small bowl to hold the used ones. He says it’s “impolite” to throw them in the censer or cauldron but until I see someone I respect say that I’m ignoring it.

 Chapter 8: The Days of Power

 Here, I’m copy pasting notes I already took from the internet while I was waiting for the book to arrive. I skimmed through Scott’s chapter to see if there was anything to add but there wasn’t. These are my first draft of what May end up being my holidays/ Sabbaths/ whatever I choose to call them. They’re not done so don’t judge them too harsh yet:

 “Wheel of the year” ideas

 January- New Years

February- Valentine’s Day

March- bad things happened to me-day of healing ?

April- wedding anniversary and t date

June- my birthday

Aug- partner’s birthday

October- Halloween and dating anniversary

December Krampusnacht

 9 in total this draft

Does not seem seasonal at all so “wheel of the year” isn’t a great name at all.

 I do like some of the seasonal things but I’m having trouble figuring out how to incorporate them. Even when I was Wiccan I didn’t understand the significance of celebrating an agricultural cycle.

 Wiccan wheel:(copy pasted with commentary)

Yule- When is Yule: December 20-23

Themes: rebirth, quiet introspection, new year, hope, setting intentions, celebration of light 

In most traditions, Yule is the Sabbat that begins the Wiccan Year.

(I think January 1st makes more sense to me. As far as the winter holiday goes- I resonate with Krampusnacht and there’s nothing about Krampus that screams “new year” to me.)

 This is the Winter Solstice—the shortest day and longest night we will experience in the Northern Hemisphere.

Yule, a fire festival, is a time of celebrating the return of the light. From this point forward, the days will gradually grow longer again, until we reach the height of the Sun’s power at the Summer Solstice.

Although we will still see comparatively little of the Sun’s light for several more weeks, this Sabbat reminds us to have patience—the waning half of the year is over, and warmth, growth, and light will reign again!

 (This part resonates with me because I have seasonal affective disorder and the light returning is very meaningful personally.) 

 it is a relatively quiet, indoor holiday, as people gather within the warm shelters of their homes to be merry and give thanks. As a Yule ritual, many decorate their altars with evergreen branches, such as cedar, pine, hemlock and spruce, as well as bright sprigs of holly, pinecones, and other festive winter flora.

 Food for simple feast/ gingerbread and ???

 Candles are paramount to this Sabbat, of course, with Yule traditions emphasizing the colors red, green, white, and gold. Images of the Sun are also appropriate. Those lucky enough to have a fireplace can burn a sacred Yule log, but you don’t need an actual hearth to brighten up your home with candles galore! Interestingly, many traditions which are generally thought of as belonging to Christmas—including the Yule log, a decorated tree, wreaths, and even caroling—are actually rooted in pre-Christian pagan traditions. So it’s quite likely that you’ve already been celebrating Yule for years, with or without your knowledge!

 Imbolc- This cross-quarter day—midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox—is a welcome milestone for many who eagerly await the warmer months.

 (So do I need to celebrate the coming warmth in December? Wouldn’t this make more sense- or would it make even more sense to wait for the spring equinox to really say “fuck you”’to winter?)

 celebrated on February 2nd. As a holiday celebrating beginnings and renewal,

(Seems like a beginnings and renewal holiday would be relevant to me but maybe I should do that on my t day)

 Imbolc is often chosen as a time for initiation, whether it be through a coven or through a self-dedication ritual.

 (Also seems like a tday thing) It is also a time for ritual cleansing after being shut indoors, largely inactive, for the past few months. (My t day is in April when spring is either here or near and that imagery can make sense then too) The ability of the Sun to cleanse and purify is recognized in various ways. Some people light several candles in each room of the house, or, in a more modern version of this tradition, turn on every lamp to set the old energy “ablaze” with the power of light. Some Witches will leave their ritual tools out in direct sunlight as one of their Imbolc traditions to cleanse and charge them—particularly metal tools and treasured crystals or mineral stones.

Traditional candle colors for Imbolc are white, yellow, orange and red, and altar decorations include fresh Spring flowers, besoms (small decorative ritual brooms) and figurines or images of young animals.

 (The stated foods are all Imbolc specific and don’t make sense for me turning parts of it into my tday festival)

Ostara- (there do not appear to be any themes in Ostara that would be relevant or useful to my practice)

 Beltane  April 30 or May 1

Themes: passion, mischief, sensuality, sexuality, (rawr) beauty, romance, fertility,(eew) vitality, abundance

 Celebrated on May 1st, Beltane marks the transition point from Spring to Summer. This is a heady time of lust, passion and fertility, marking the return of vitality to both the Earth and the Sun. Blossoms on the trees are giving way to robust leaf growth, young animals are growing into maturity, and the daylight continues to lengthen and strengthen as we move toward the full power of Summer. Love and commitment are themes of this Sabbat, along with abundance and creativity. Handfastings are traditionally held at Beltane.

 (Wedding anniversary is April 14. Can possibly borrow some Beltane themes for that)

 Beltane is a very sensual Sabbat in many traditions, celebrating sexual energy

 One distinct custom in England and elsewhere that has never died out entirely is dancing around the Maypole—a tall, wooden pole said to represent male virility. Typically, people gather flowers and green branches to decorate the Maypole, or else use brightly colored ribbons. Many groups incorporate this tradition into their Beltane celebrations.

Fire is also a big focus at Beltane—so much so that many places host a Beltane fire festival. In ancient Irish culture, from which the name of the Sabbat is borrowed, people lit giant sacred fires on this day to purify and protect their cattle from illness. The cattle were driven between two fires to ritually cleanse them and connect them with the Sun. It was also considered good luck for people to jump over a bonfire at this time, and this is another Beltane ritual that is often found in celebrations.

The word “beltane” actually comes from an ancient Celtic word meaning “bright fire,” so it’s highly appropriate to include fire of some kind in your festivities. If, like many Wiccans, you don’t have the means to build a fire either indoors or outdoors, you can still decorate your altar with images of fire. If you have a mini-cauldron, place it over a few scraps of red and orange paper for a symbolic fire right on your altar!

Other ways to celebrate Beltane include making a “wedding feast” . Breads and cereal grains, oatmeal cookies and dairy foods are all traditional Beltane treats. Include seasonal spring vegetables as well for a true feast. Gather flowers and green leaves to decorate your altar with. Many people like to create a “mini-Maypole” for their altar and decorate it with ribbons. If you have long hair, braid it as a symbol of the union between (my partner and I) weaving in some wildflowers or tree blossoms if you like. Traditionally, couples would spend the whole night outdoors, romping in the fields and forests, but if this isn’t practical, take a long walk with your sweetheart somewhere out in nature. The important thing is to make sure you spend some time outdoors on this day! (we like nature and we got married on the beach so this is very useable)

 Midsummer June 20-22 (oh hey thats so close to my birthday!)

Themes: abundance, growth, masculine energy, (love that for me) love, magic

 This is the longest day and shortest night of the year, marking the pinnacle of the Sun’s power to fuel the growing season. From here on out, the Sun will set a little earlier each night until Yule, and so we recognize and give thanks for its warmth.

The crops are reaching their full maturity and the forests are bursting with lush growth. In just a few short weeks, the harvest season will begin, but for now we pause to celebrate the manifestation of what was planted in the early weeks of Spring. The warm sunlight is a welcome contrast to the cold and dark of Winter, and we bask in its comforts. T 

To celebrate this Sabbat, you can decorate your altar with summer flowers, herbs and fruits, and summer colors like yellow, green and blue. This is a traditional time for rites of re-dedication as well as divination related to love and romance. Keep at least one candle lit throughout the day to honor the Sun, and if possible hold your rituals at noon, when the Sun is at its highest point in the sky. Have an outdoor picnic feast to bask in the warmth of the day, and eat fresh fruits and vegetables—ideally from a farmer’s market or harvested from your own garden. This is a good time for magic related to masculine energies and any situation that needs to be “fired up” in your life.

 Lammas: August 1 or 2

Themes: first fruits, harvest, gratitude, benevolent sacrifice, utilizing skills and talents

(I don’t know what to do here. When I was Wiccan, this was one of my faves because I am obsessed with autumn but all the mythology here in the description is harvest related and I am not a farmer or about gratitude. Gratitude is lovely and I want to incorporate it into my practice but doing gratitude amongst the fall foliage aesthetic makes me think of American Thanksgiving which is super gross. This is going to need a lot of thought.) 

 Lammas rituals are related to harvest and gratitude, and recognizing the manifestations of our intentions that have unfolded so far during the course of the year. Bread-making is a common way to mark the holiday, as it represents bringing the seeds of intention into full fruition. People also might make a corn dolly—a traditional poppet made from straw—for use in ritual and magic. Decorate your altar with the colors of summer and fall—yellow, orange, red, green and brown. Use harvest imagery like scythes and baskets and, of course, loaves of bread. A Lammas feast should definitely involve bread, as well as late-summer fruits and vegetables, corn, and other grain dishes. Spellwork related to securing abundance and a happy home is particularly powerful at this time.

(see what I mean? What do I do here? Also I just glanced at the date and its early august which is hotter than the surface of the sun in the modern south where i am trapped. It doesn’t start feeling autumny down here until mid november. This one needs a lot of work)

 focus their celebrations on giving thanks for their skills and talents as well as for the grain harvest, but the emphasis is on gratitude all the same.

 Mabon: September 21-24- Autumn (or Fall) Equinox.

Themes: harvest, gratitude, abundance, balance, preparation, welcoming the dark

(wait, how is this different from lammas? I think this is the one I was actually thinking about when I said “this was one of my faves when I was actually wiccan.” My bad. Ok, I’m dumb but in my defense why do they have 2 back to back autumn colored gratitude holidays???)

Mabon falls on the Autumn Equinox and is the second of the three harvest festivals (Lammas, Mabon, and Samhain). Just like Ostara on the opposite side of the Wheel of the Year, at Mabon the days and nights are of equal length. Though temperatures may still be warm during the day, summer has truly come to an end. The leaves on deciduous trees have begun to turn colors and fall to the ground, (not in my state, homie) and there is a chill in the evening air. The days were longer than the nights until this moment, and after this the nights will begin their reign.. In these modern times, most of us are not involved in agriculture, but we can still take a moment to rest from our labor and relax, appreciating all that we have. It is a time to recognize the need for balance between work and play.

But how should you celebrate Mabon? For starters, Mabon rituals can include decorating your altar with acorns, pine cones, seasonal fruits and nuts, and/or a few of the first colored leaves that drop from the trees. (yes this was deffo the one I was thinking of, not Lammas) As with Lamas, harvest imagery like scythes and baskets can be used. (no wonder I mixed them up. They’re practically twins.) Candles and altar cloths in autumn colors like rusty red, orange, brown, and gold are appropriate. If you have a feast, whether solo or with others, include seasonal vegetables like onions, potatoes, carrots and other root vegetables. Spellwork related to protection and security is appropriate now, as are workings for self-confidence, prosperity, harmony and balance. If you are one who struggles with seasonal depression during the fall and winter months, (YUP) use this time to set an intention for inner peace and strength. You might make and charge a talisman for this purpose, to accompany you through the next two seasons. (OOH i LIKE THAT) 

When is Samhain: October 31 or November 1

Themes: death, rebirth, divination, honoring ancestors, introspection, benign mischief, revelry

The third and final harvest festival on the Wheel of the Year is Samhain, observed on October 31. This Sabbat marks the end of the growing season and the beginning of Winter, which must be prepared for now in earnest. Herbs are dried for winter storage, fruits and vegetables are canned and preserved, and root vegetables are dug up and stored so they may nourish us through the cold months. The word “Samhain” comes from the old Irish and is thought by many to translate as “Summer’s end.”

While the cycles of life and death are implicitly recognized at every Sabbat, Samhain is when the necessary role of death is formally honored. The nights grow noticeably longer with each day. The God retreats now into the shadows of the dark season, symbolically dying back to the Earth before being reborn again at Yule. Many Wiccans and other Pagans consider this to be the most important day on the Wheel, a time when the veil between the spirit world and the mundane world is at its thinnest. Our ancestors and loved ones on the Other Side are said to be more easily able to visit with us and make their presence known at this time.

Samhain is arguably the most visible Sabbat in the mainstream world, thanks to the parallel holiday of Halloween. Many of the Halloween traditions celebrated in contemporary cultures today have grown out of customs dating back to pagan times. As far back as ancient Greece, people were leaving offerings of food to their ancestors, which is echoed in the modern tradition of trick-or-treating. The practice of leaving root vegetables hollowed out with lighted candles inside, to guide spirits visiting on Earth ultimately led to today’s jack-o-lanterns. Witches, of course, have always been part of mainstream Halloween lore. 

 . We also honor our ancestors and invite them to visit with us. You might decorate your altar with pictures of your deceased loved ones in addition to fall foliage, apples and nuts, dried herbs and even jack-o-lanterns. Many people will leave a plate of food and drink out for any spirits who happen to wander by. Samhain is one of the most powerful nights of the year for spellwork and divination. Magical workings related to just about anything will receive an extra boost, but waning-moon work will have the most potent effect. Banishings, protection spells, clearing of obstacles and astral projection are particularly favored. Scrying, tarot reading, rune casting and any other form of divination you practice will bring you very clear results, as well as possibly a visit from an ancestor or spirit guide. Be open to doing inner work as well—reflecting on what you’d like to let go of and what you’d like to improve in yourself over the coming year.

(Ok now I’m going to be repetitious and re paste my list of significant dates and combine my thing with the wheel if applicable. Ran out of time midway through that so I’ll put it into tomorrow’s study notes)

[11toe11-blog]

Covid Sitayana

Ramayana was an epic scale epic. Since we did not have the bandwidth for more than one Ramayana or Mahabharata - we decided to ensure another Ramayana never happens. 

So every other potential Sita was trained - a clear Line drawn - stand inside, well within the line. 

“How many times should i tell you! Stay inside”

Sita - “but the cow…”

“What cow? No cow! Stay inside. Always remember the line. Everything outside is Ravana.”

____

Notes on Kalari -- Dr. Priyadarshan Lal

Warm body- warm up

Being able to stand on two feet requires great balance. Not any other mammals other than humans - who start erect. Core- balance ( like cycle/swimming)

Drawing associations of etymology. Letter of Tamil are distinguished as.

Mei-ezhuthu-  Consonants. Mei --> Body

Uyir-ezhuthu - Vowels. Uyir-->Breath

---> Mei- payattu

8 types of postures:

Lion - cross legged and paw connect. Cross core

Elephant - simultaneous movements of the side. All of left shifts. Then all of right shifts.Strength.

Fish - turn. Flash turn.

Kukkuda/ rooster - flutter up and land

Horse straight

Boar -stright. lift.

Snake

Cat

All the postures appear in the meippayattu, obviously or subtly.

(*noticing how barteniff similarly constructed fundamentals based on evolutionary stages of embryo. In my experince so far, the manipulation of the jelly like that is strong and flexible and can contort and expand and realign etc, in connection with the breath, creates a posture if extended to the extremeties)

(pic courtesy: https://www.leisurepro.com/blog/explore-the-blue/5-harmless-species-jellyfish/) 

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Empty handed combat. Win over the enemy without fighting. (*love and empathy)

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Adhara chakra

(*he didnt elaborate, but from the adishakti workshop of many years ago i remember that each posture has an associated chakra basis. Maybe the movement originates or is held or passed through that particular chakra. Im yet to experience it. For fish and horse and elephant maybe i sense it, but i cant be sure)

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I feel close to being done writing about myself. And my vantage at this point. I feel it would be nice to explore a subject in writing.

Like kalari. And where kalari meets ramana. Not scholarly sense, but for me. So that i can discover for myself the connections i have made. And the questions and blind spots are clearer to me. 

Looking at a dance journal called FUSE, i caught a glimpse of the dancer’s notes...the notes, the scores, seemed closer to my way of enquiring. Scores. Questions. Frames of observation.

What of the archetypes and narratives and characters? 

“We’ll isn't it interesting, that as well as you know your characters and the relationships between them, you aret compelled by dialogues - what they say to each other seems to be of no import to you.” 

 Yes. I cant seem to care much for dialogues insipte of all that auditory hallucinations. 

I feel - The dialogues are not spoken. They are actions. And in the body, their very being itself there is something alive and exchanging and transforming. SOmething that doesn't lean on words to do preliminary negotiations. Something that is, and goes in, and is being from the very start all they way.  Like mom keeps saying, actions speak louder than words.

Yes. And in their moving around and relating back and forth to the space and movements and changing landscape of their emotions/memories/ etc… changes takes place… in ascertain  kind of quietness. Cant call it silence.  Or in a certain kind of silence. Cant call it quietness. Or is it a certain kind of silence. 

But dialogues have no place there. Expect as inner soliloquies. May be as monologues. When it comes to rapid energy exchange, it physical. Not words.  Because words are diversions at best.

Most of the time. They appear when there is no choice, but to speak. And then  the words appear, and they appear crystal clear, to illuminate, to clarify. Not to veil and hide. 

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Form is created by tension. Last night i was watching the mind. Or rather something was watching the mind. And i was in the mind trapped in its incessant chatter and looking from outside. The incessant chatter seemed to originate from a tension at the base of the skull. From something taut, like a string of a musical instrument. Though not wholly a pleasant feeling. 

In this tension, between this points of tension space is created and form appears. A is the tension between the two slanting lines whose base is pulled apart and wedged by a shot line. Form. Uyirzhuthu. K is the inclined upward and inclined downward push, directed to a particular single point on the vertical line.

Not sure if i would have been able to finally get a sense of the symbols used to denote english alphabets, if wasnt for my conversation with DK, aka Quirky.

Me: wait... i have more technical question ...how do you remember what you did on the floor?

and when does meaning emerge?

He: It's all in the flow

And it's the experience and the environment that the movement create that in turn gives the watching person to make meaning

Technically it's all about the flow and muscles memory

Me: but what of the mover? where is he/she finding meaning?

or is the meaning purely an experience of spatial truth?

He: Meaning is subjective isn't it

Me: yuss

He: It's like the color red and the redness of the read. Red

I guess redness of the red is what I am interested

Not what meanings people associated red with

Of course one can use association of the red to creat an emotion or mood but as a core the ness ness of something is the research

Me: do you at any point at all, as a mover dancer, remember being interested in what meanings people associated with red? or was it always about redness of red?

He: When is create it all about the Ness nesss but ofcourse once the composition and presentation of the idea start I do play with association of the given ideas or objects to create tention. 

But I also know if I considered the association I am closing a lot of other posibal reading

It's a balancing act

Me: mmmm

He: If I address the association more often them not I will be taking stands and sides

Which may be use full for certain works

But as a for being true to the work I find it enriching to look for the nessness of the idea

Me: Ness-ness is nice. very nice. i supoose it the most neutral position available to you while fully innit - if i must intellectualise. but ya... when i was asking you, how do you rember, i was coming from a simplistic space of notaton and mnenomics. but this redness of red gives me a btter answer tothe unasked question.

He: I don't remember I am not wired like that

Dicklessli. Lol

Its all in the flow and muscle memory

And ofcourse repetition

Me: relieff

just came acrosss this https://www.yumpu.com/en/document/read/63113284/fuse1

He: The useal lol . Gay and tamil mami

Lol. I know of the person who runs this project

Me: trust you to massacre! Nut!

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I dint quite understand what he meant by this “ He: When is create it all about the Ness nesss but ofcourse once the composition and presentation of the idea start I do play with association of the given ideas or objects to create tention. “ yesterday.  This idea of creating tension using associations etc for the compositions and presentations and sharing… the point of outer reflection and feedback from the larger whole , as mirror.  Like R says, “only when the play meets the audience does it become a play”, audience provides that vital energy - that space- witness. ANd thats when the possibilities of the play star unfolding. 

What of traditional performers such as koodiyattam then? For whom the lamp is the only witness?

Also https://www.brainpickings.org/2015/07/06/the-aesthetic-of-silence-susan-sontag/

“Art is a technique for focusing attention, for teaching skills of attention… Once the artist’s task seemed to be simply that of opening up new areas and objects of attention. That task is still acknowledged, but it has become problematic. The very faculty of attention has come into question, and been subjected to more rigorous standards…

Perhaps the quality of the attention one brings to bear on something will be better (less contaminated, less distracted), the less one is offered. Furnished with impoverished art, purged by silence, one might then be able to begin to transcend the frustrating selectivity of attention, with its inevitable distortions of experience. Ideally, one should be able to pay attention to everything.”

“So far as he is serious, the artist is continually tempted to sever the dialogue he has with an audience. Silence is the furthest extension of that reluctance to communicate, that ambivalence about making contact with the audience… Silence is the artist’s ultimate other-worldly gesture: by silence, he frees himself from servile bondage to the world, which appears as patron, client, consumer, antagonist, arbiter, and distorter of his work.”

Both of which i resonate with to whatever degree of my experience  has been. This struggle of audience. And a certain withdrawal and dismissal and a sense of pursuit of something much larger than popularity or appreciation of peers. Which is questioned very starkly here by Sontag like a slap on the hand

“

Sontag recognizes that the gesture of silence in abdication from society is still “a highly social gesture.” She writes:

An exemplary decision of this sort can be made only after the artist has demonstrated that he possesses genius and exercised that genius authoritatively. Once he has surpassed his peers by the standards which he acknowledges, his pride has only one place left to go. For, to be a victim of the craving for silence is to be, in still a further sense, superior to everyone else. It suggests that the artist has had the wit to ask more questions than other people, and that he possesses stronger nerves and higher standards of excellence.”

Is that why i am still around. Hanging on nail and tooth. Because i havent proved myself in this world. That the way to Griffindor is through the corridors of Slytherine?

Ramana says, not necessary. 

Kalari says, if necessary, come to the pit.

Eitherways, the presence and absence of a living fluid core makes a difference to the experience and perception of reality and the energy to keep observing past its frames. So i show up the pit everyday. One way or the other.

[thefivecalls]

FROZEN 2 SPOILERS AHEAD MY PEOPLE

(I wrote this mid sugar high at midnight last night there are a thousand spelling mistakes I'm sorry)

DID OLAF ACCIDENTALLY FIMD AMD NAME THE MAIM EARTH SPIRIT Samantha

SO LIKE KRISTOFF HAS SEEM ANA FREEZE AMD ALMOSY DIE LIKE FOUR TIMES MAYBE THATS WHY HE WAMTS TO PLEAEE HER SO LIKE BEFORE SHE GOES ABMD ACTUALLY KILLS HERSELF

Imb the forst movie Ana freezes amd im the 2 elsa gets the punishment if the producers follow through with elsa amd Ana storyline does that mean KRISTOFF is gomma get frozen next

Also like Ana unfroze elsa but she was miles away doe Ana habe love as magic like its so subtle amd that's why she wanted elsa to come out when they were kids she like physically needs love to live

And on that same note what if thats why shes so loyal she loves so strongly she kmows unconsciously that if she isn't there they'll despair amd stop feelimg love

Why is elsa the bridge amd not the chief amd their grandparents because as far as I know spirits don't usually stick with petty humams they would have let them war but mooooo who truly broke the bridge? Who has the power to cause the spirits so much anguish they banish humams from their realm?

Something is familiar, like a dream I can reach, but not quite hold ❊

Is elsa the chief reincarnate is that why she and omly she coupld break the fog be ause suhe was the innocent blood spilt beforehand it woupd explaim why shes albino shes a ghost with meat

Wheb elsa is in the Frozen River she saw her parents and her mom said something like I need to tell you about my past why did she's not stopped and keep it looking at it she could have figure it out so much and their parents wouldn't have been so much of a mystery like I know that the people were a big deal but like they still we're going to go the same direction so she could have listened and follow then follow the other people

Whenever else is singing into the unknown why don't the towns people here her or they just like you up same shirt as always or and then like oh yeah I know more stuff happening just like last time

If else's mom was able to give offspring that had magic powers why don't the rest of the people have powers I know that if she was like a blessing or something but they prove themselves worthy living in the Forest with monsters in Magic 4 34 years was it like there should have been another magic child then they could have talked with Elsa and they could have been together 2 the ice River

Olaf almost melts in the first movie and in the second he flurries so does that mean that with every movie is he just going to like kind of die and then Nana is going to save them with else's help and then have them be saved again and and Olaf just comes back like is that a thing

Are the people of Aaron Dale sick of Anna and Elsa yet I mean they both almost ruined Aaron Del with like no intention I guess but like pull intention I guess to so yeah why are they loyal maybe Anna put magic on them and like Bewitched them without knowing it

what happened to Elsa's Castle whenever she was frozen did it ummagic itself amd the people of aremdel like kmow she was dead like Ana abd olaf kmew when olaf disintegrated

Elsa could easily control people with a wave if her habd why doesn't she do it

She has SO MUCH POWER  and never uses it and never uses it it has to pent-up, build and eventually like all snow does either melt or Avalanche

What's going to happen if Elsa has a kid and it also has a spirit is it going to be more powerful than her in the first movie love overpowered Elsa and Elsa is a spirit does that mean the kid is going to be more powerful than love or will it incarnate love like Anna

The trolls can see the future did that does that mean that they saw Elsa and Anna freeze? Does that mean that they saw people dying in alternate futures? If that actually happened why did they not speak of it why didn't they stop Hans or better yet stop their parents from seeking the Frozen River they might have known they died and didn't tell anyone

In one of the theories it states that the parents washed ashore on Tarzan Island does that mean Tarzan has powers is that why he can speak to the animals

Kristoff and 10 obviously are close and so is writer and his reindeers they both communicate to the animals easily and and Kristoff in the first movie was working with the ice people and no one came back for him when he went missing no parents no family does that mean he's part of the tribe does that mean that he survived the fog and just doesn't remember because the trolls took him in and maybe change his memory?

Hans is from the Southern Isles. Elsa's from the Northern Isles. Elsa has powers ice powers Hans never liked Elsa nor she him he had fire powers and that's why she automatically didn't like him nor any of his brothers whenever her coronation came around the Fire and Ice collided spiritually and maybe they picked up on it?

Why did Elsa hear her mother singing to her from the ice River and how did her mother use the plants to save their father could she coax them somehow did she have powers could she have been a spirit the Earth spirit most of the time whenever Elsa heard the song it was either via wind or Earth that we saw her like camera wise so is her mother a spirit to or did she just know to coax the plants via tradition

How did their grandfather find the tribe and the magical land was there another tribe member that spoke with them beforehand Maybe someone connected to Kristoff biologically I mean he looks like the kingdom people but he has characteristics like the tribe he even somehow knew the forest quote-unquote after only being there a day how did he know is it part of his blood or is it from the trolls giving him magic

Why is it only 5 spirits there's sub categories like ice and water they're the same thing but Elsa and the water spirit are two different things so is like there a lava spirit just like lesser known is there sub categories of spirits that aren't represented or like are they the other parts of the ice crystals that Elsa created whenever she sang into the unknown are the rest of those tinier spirits

If water has memory does that mean the water spirit has felt their parents died like it recognized and was tamed by Elsa but only after I tried to kill her did it recognize the same characteristics from her parents whenever they tried die and be like oh I know this person somehow like is that a thing

In the first movie Elsa created her castle with spiders similar to the symbol created by the spirits did she realize that she was creating those things unconscious lie or did she think the ice was doing it also the castle was built on a cliff similar to the one in the ice River did a part of her recognize and feel at home there to create that new Palace there to feel closer to home

Elsa's ice has created two dresses so far so that means that she can create filament so small they can be thread like with with that power it tears a part her old dresses and creates new fabric from it does that mean she could tear apart anything and create a new part of it like say animal for tree or human and build off of that to create a icier version of the original being

The tribe means from the Sun the name so that part of fire spirit is that why we only see the gecko as a fire spirit there's more of this fire somewhere else like a little bit in the people and maybe even the flower from Tangled which eventually ended up and Rapunzel and eventually ended up in a single tear in Flynn and then somehow comes back to the tribe to the spirit

Elsa not only saw only her memories but also Anna's. As the bridge between Magic and none magic or they somehow connected is that why they both like chocolate or they both read each other so well or I don't know how they both fall asleep to the same song in the similar ways maybe on I got the human half and Elsa got the magical half

Elsa got frozen in the ice River whenever she jumped off the cliff did her powers react to the recognizable area and overcome her meat suit is that why she froze because I know that jumping too deep in the river from the song freezes you or drowns you but a normal person wouldn't have survived half of things the chasms the controlling the water spirit so was that just her embracing her powers and then the magic getting too much of her Grand Papi warned Anna about elsas magic being too much for the world maybe the body was the last barrier before it was to take the world with ice