#i just want to make it easier for both myself and others to shape our own crafts the way we want to

[dduane]

...So I was noodling around with the above image as preliminary work for a piece of Middle Kingdoms concept art that's going to illustrate a chapter-heading rubric from The Door Into Sunset. And while working on it, I belatedly realized that to correctly set up that scene, I was first going to have to tear up the entire left-hand side of the image (and the space beyond it), because the new covered fish market I had in mind wasn't going to fit in the space.

So I rolled my eyes at myself (I should have seen this coming...), got busy tearing it up, and then built the fish market. It's very loosely based, as I think I mentioned somewhere here earlier, on the famous Vismarkt, the covered fishmarket in the center of Brugge in Belgium (a.k.a. Bruges). (Image via Carto.net.)

Back in medieval times, right through to the Renaissance and beyond, fish was originally sold in Bruges in the open, from wooden pallets. But other stallholders in the main market complained about the smell, and the fish-sellers themselves weren't happy with the venue: selling such perishable goods out in the broad (and often hot) daylight was suboptimal. A permanent, covered place for the fishmongers' stalls makes more sense. Yet at the same time, you want decent light on what you're selling or buying... just not direct sun.

Choosing the architecture for a market like this in Darthis city was also going to be an issue. The Vismarkt was installed in a new dedicated market square in 1821, with the architect opting for a Victorian-cum-Classical look: not something that would make sense in this alternate Earth—if I was seriously considering a straightforward copy, which I wasn't. However, the Darthene architectural aesthetic does contain both building styles very like our Romanesque style, and elements similarly reminiscent of Gothic. (Though in the Middle Kingdoms the AU-Romanesque wasn't abandoned when the kinda-Gothic came in, but coexists with it).

After I'd given the situation some thought, I found myself wanting something that drew on those two traditions... or would maybe kind of split the difference between them: a building open on all sides that would be relatively light and airy, recalling a tent or canopy. This kind of design's unquestionably made a lot easier in that universe by the availability of magic-workers able to pull stone out of the ground without excavation, and also able to fashion it into the desired shapes without the use of physical tools. So finally I settled on a broad, vaguely Gothic-styled cross or groined vault as the preferred shape for the roofs: then rummaged around to see what I could find in the local toolkit that would enable me to build it.

Semi-plan view:

Diagonal side view:

(Please note that all of these images are the result of the digital version of kitbashing, as I don’t currently have anything like the skills to create shapes like these in Blender.)

Better lighting in this case is fortunately a materials-technology issue, long since solved on our own Earth. The stone of the roof segments is what architects now would refer to as an "alabastrite marble", about an inch thick—light enough to need relatively little in the way of external supports, and thin enough to transmit light readily. This marble's name comes (probably obviously enough) from alabaster, which has been used on and off in European church windows since medieval times as an affordable alternative to glass, in times and places where that’s been expensive.

This approach has had occasional revivals in modern our-Earth architecture. However, since alabaster is only useful in relatively small pieces, and is vulnerable to heat and moisture, it's often replaced by thin-cut marble set in metal frameworks. One good example of this would be the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale. (image via Amusing Planet)

The thin-cut Vermont marble transmits light safely without endangering the documents. But sometimes genuine alabaster has been used, too: the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles features tens of thousands of panes of it. (image via Expedia)

The equivalent use of marble in the royal Arlene library rr'Virendir, in Prydon city—replacing much ancient glass destroyed during the earthquakes accompanying the last battle of the Great War—is probably where the Darthene authorities got the idea for this implementation. And since the marble used in this construction would almost certainly have come from Arlen, light-colored marble being the country’s “vernacular" stone due to it being quarried all over the place there, it makes perfect sense for this marble to have been a gift of the Arlene Throne to the city of Darthis. And would also account for the presence of his grace the King over there by the market stall up against the wall, pretending to check out the produce while he also checks out the nearly-finished construction (and, idly, two of his spouses).

The Queen is after all very picky about making sure her contractors are getting things right. Yes, she jokes a lot about having lots of room in the dungeons if things go wrong... but sometimes, if you don't know her, it's hard to be sure she's joking.

Meanwhile, so far, it doesn't look too bad.

Things learned over the past couple of weeks, in between also doing other work:

Translucence is a bitch to master in Daz Studio

Certain aspects of Blender are conspiring with one another to make me scream

My rendering computer is displaying a tendency toward quirkiness in the memory department that would register as nearly endearing if I could figure out what was causing it

...But at least now that the set I need is pretty much done (except for some minor tightening, straightening, and tweaking of materials and color temperatures), I can turn my attention to the question of how to produce the rather specialized VFX required for the two shot I'm setting up. ...Yeah, all this work has been for a two shot. But that shot needs people in the background, and the right street furniture. And nature abhors an undressed set. ...See also: "the backs of the melons."

Next challenge: track down a source for heaps of digitized prawns. :)

[orionhere]

Noctis' affection story is so domestic and chaotic I honestly can't believe it (well, as domestic as you can with Noctis)

I often find myself giggling and snorting bc he's such a fun guy. He has Kamui's personality but more violent (So a mix between Kamui & Camu?) and also a ✨HIMBO✨

He attac, he protecc, but most importantly, he can bake

SPOILER from his affection story below:

(This became so long lmao I really love his interaction with Skk)

Important note: I can only read a little of chinese & with help of translator lol, so I'm so sorry if there's some mistranslation. Also his affection story is after Sands of Wrath event, so beware of spoilers from the main chapter!

Skk and Noctis work part-time in a store (bar?) on Pure Zone as a bartender and chef respectively. Pure Zone is an area that is safe for the human environment because of the blue Tower that purifies the Punishing Virus (Spiral of Chronos chapter).

Turns out it was because Nikola asked the Skk to "take a break" by helping out at the conservation area. Also to gain more publicity with the people in the Pure Zone.

With how famous Skk is, it's easier to attract customers' attention.

"Customer A: Your smile please."

"Customer B: And don't forget, the most important thing is to add a little bit of love."

Noctis being a knight in shining armor always meddles in the middle to stop the customers from pestering Skk too much lmao

After the store closed, Skk and Noctis tried to make their specialties. In this case, Noctis tried to make his special homemade hash browns and Skk tried to make a special drink. Both of them exchanged their "creation" and tried it together.

Hilariously, it ended in failure lmao

"So sour!! Commandant, what did you add to this drink?!"

"Yours too!! There's enough sugar on this hash brown to last the store for a year!"

Not believing the other's comment, they tried to taste their own dish.

" …. Let's just throw them…"

Noctis makes Skk a personal dish for lunch. When a customer saw the dish, they wanted Noctis to make it for them. But Noctis refuses.

"No no no, this is a private meal. We don't sell it in our store."

"Just a little bit please?"

"No means no. And don't make things difficult for Commandant here. This guy had a busy day and didn't have time to eat!"

Also, Noctis used all the ingredients that the boss just brought back to make Skk's meal (more cursing from the boss but he ignored it & ate together with Skk lmao)

Then we have a Karen here (lol) who asks where the chef is. The name is Sykes (I think). Said the "homeless pancakes" (?) that the store sells are not the same thing that he used to eat when he was wandering and accused the store of fraud. Many customers are afraid of Sykes or refuse to involve themselves with Sykes. This caused the store's income to decrease.

OKAY BUT THERE'S THIS SCENE WHEN SYKES WANT TO INTIMIDATE SKK BUT NOCTIS STANDS BETWEEN THEM TO HIDE SKK. BUT NOCTIS IS SO TALL, SKK NEED TO STAND ON TIPTOE SO THEY COULD PEEK OVER NOCTIS' SHOULDER AND CONTINUE TO ASK SYKES TO GIVE THEM A WEEK ASDFJSKKS

More Skk & Noctis' chaotic kitchen shenanigans

Noctis couldn't form the mixture like in the recipe with a mold, so Skk suggested using his hand to manually shape the mixture.

"Are you trying to choke someone to death…"

Skk went to Noctis' side and helped him mold the mixture by grabbing his hand and instructing him step by step which make Noctis blush.

Skk wipes the crumbs and flour from Noctis' cheeks with a towel hshshshshshs-

A customer asks Noctis if he could 'surprise' them. Not knowing the meaning, he asks Skk and they replied that the customer want another dish. Noctis offers his homemade hash brown which Skk asks if Noctis finally mastering the said dish.

"Huh? Nope. I don't have the time. Just let them eat that poison-"

Skk then proceed to cover his face with a towel and rub it as hard as they could lmao. "Comm *—mph!* – mandant! Stop! I *gasp* can’t b–breathe! *pant*"

That night, Noctis asks the boss to use the Bluefin Tuna that the boss brought back. He thought that Noctis gonna use the fish for Sykes' dish, but turns out it was for Skk's dinner. More cursing from the boss (HE ALWAYS TRIES HIS BEST & USING THE BEST INGREDIENTS FOR SKK'S MEAL IM CRYING)

Skk was worried that Noctis was pushing himself. But Noctis refute that, saying that he likes the challenge and enjoys making the pancake. Then Noctis asks back how Skk was holding up with how they have to smile and chat to customers all day as a bartender. Skk assure him it was part of the job, as long the customer isn't Sykes.

"That's pretty tough. …… Want to switch? I'd like to try to manage the bar too."

"Okay, try to smile."

"Noctis was a little flustered but managed to squeeze out a smile at your request. It feels like staring at a great white shark."

(Imagine you were drinking in a bar, and ask the bartender for a smile. This is how he smiles at you)

(Gorgeous)

Remember when Skk tried to make their own special drink? Turns out they make an adjustment by adding 40 shots thanks to a customer who suggested it to them. Drunk Skk

"40 shots?! Isn't that the same as wine …… OK, I'll ask around tomorrow to find which genius suggests such an idea."

Noctis then give Skk his special homemade hash brown. But because Sykes' matters, he doesn't have time to improve his dish.

Which results Skk throwing up.

"How is it, Commandant? After you vomited it out, do you feel more awake now?"

Drunk and angry Skk swings a chair at Noctis.

"Who on earth came up with the idea to make Commandant drink 40 shots?! Hey hey hey, Commandant… You can’t be serious, can you?!"

This scared Noctis to the point whenever Skk asks him what happen that night, he always tries to cover it up.

Next day, they went out to ask others about the recipe. They met an old man who used to be a part of the wandering group with Sykes. Turns out the homeless pancake that Sykes want is just some various ingredients mixed together into a weird mixture and baked into pitch black. During that time, canned food and fresh ingredients are very precious and even a luxury.

The old man gestured to Skk to try it, but before they can put it in their mouth, Noctis eats it.

"....Commandant… It's better for you to not try it."

"How can I know what's wrong with it if I don't try it myself?"

More coughing and Noctis pat pat Skk's back

Knowing that Skk is a bit tired from today's walk, Noctis wash the dishes by himself.

Skk was a bit down after finding out about the homeless cake origin, so Noctis tried to cheer Skk up in his own way lol.

"Skk is really kind. If it was someone else, I would probably have said that this is none of my business, and then I would not care about it anymore. After all, thinking about this kind of thing will only add more trouble."

"How is this adding more trouble…"

"That's why I say that Commandant is very kind. You tried your best to do everything for the people on earth, but you still refuse to let yourself go on this matter. If it were me, I wouldn't care at all."

Noctis and Skk wash dishes together.

"This is a pain. Are you gonna help me wash the dishes or not?"

"But you're washing it right now?"

"No way! I don't want to enjoy such good thing alone! So you do it too!"

"…Commandant, if you keep pushing me, I'm gonna stuck in the wall. Tsk, why is the area around the sink so cramped?!"

It was time for Sykes to come back. Noctis finally finish the dish and present it to Sykes with the same recipe from the old man from before. But Noctis refuse to make it as black as the recipe says. "However, this store will never sell that kind of pitch-black food. It is our store principle to make it carefully with the right ingredients and utensils."

Tldr Sykes being a stubborn jerk shouting about 'the real homeless pancake' is the sole reason they're still alive & what Noctis did is just a gimmick to attract more customers.

"We are literally eating all of that stuff. Are they only worthy of being a gimmick to attract customers in the pure zone? Should the past just lie in our memory and become mere talk? Should we just pretend that nothing has happened?!" Basically just Sykes can't let go of the past.

Skk promises all of them to fight hard so they can retake the earth and the Great Arcadia Retreat won't happen again.

Sykes still being a stubborn bastard refuse to let this matter go and tried to attack Skk. But Noctis just stop him in time. It ended up with a bar fight lol

On their last day as a part-timer, while waiting for the boss to arrive in the morning, they decide to make their signature again. This time it was a success.

Skk and Noctis give the recipe to the boss so he can add it to the menu. He asks what it's going to be called.

"Vegetable Storm."

"Super Hash Brown!"

"I definitely don't want that kind of name on my menu. How about calling it '<Name>' and 'Noctis'? It's a good combination. And it added some emotional value."

Because of the last bar fight, they need to replace some furniture. They change the door to a new one, but Noctis painted graffiti on it because the color doesn't match the store. Skk also bought a lucky cat from Kowlong but Noctis modified it into a shark because it doesn't match the store's style. (Lucky shark??😂)

Noctis daydreams about life after Punishing virus is gone.

"These past few weeks felt like a dream. No missions, no enemies, no emergencies, no equipment for maintenance, not even weapons to use. Every day I'm with Commandant, taking orders, cooking, chatting…"

"Are you happy, Noctis?"

"It’s not bad, I’m very happy! I was so happy that I actually didn't want to go back."

"Commandant, do you think we can enjoy this leisurely life for the rest of our lives after the Punishing Virus is gone?"

"Of course we can, we already have the Pure Zone, and one day we will retake the earth completely. And then, you could do whatever you want to do."

"Then let's make a fortune with '<Name> and Noctis'! We could open a store, and then I'll let Commandant be the boss. Then you'll be in charge to manage the bar!" He even plans to open many branches, even on Babylonia (THAT'S SO SWEET WTH-)

The boss being a savage to Noctis lmao.

"Our store will always welcome you back, <Name>. As for Noctis, forget it. I just want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter how it ends, as long as this store exists, your aprons will always be there."

"Don't worry, Commandant is in my hands. When it's all over, we'll definitely come back."

"Maybe at that time, they will no longer be the Commandant of Gray Raven and a member of the Cerberus team. But just '[Name] and Noctis'." (I'M GETTING EMOTIONAL AT THIS LINE FCK)

All in all, this is really a fun and heartwarming story. I haven't finished Sands of Wrath chapter yet, so Noctis' interaction with Skk really caught me off guard. There's still a lot of his interaction that I couldn't fit in here because that's gonna be too long-

Also in the Sands of Wrath chapter, Skk and Noctis called each other 'partner' (In JP dub, he calls Skk 'aibou') I LOVE HIM SO MUCH ASDHFKA😭😭

Noctis is a malewife material you can't change my mind✨💕

[newtthetranswriter]

Can I request good omens Crowley x reader? Where they’re out and about together and his sunglasses get lost or broken or whatever and reader helps him out somehow bc Crowley doesn’t want to make a big scene? (Leading him while he closes his eyes or lending him their ridiculous heart sunglasses or something idk lol)

Thank you!

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Word count: 957

A/n: I had fun writing this, I hope you enjoy it. The reader is modeled after me but that’s because it made it easier to write their outfit, you can change it if you want though. Any ways enjoy and remember Requests are currently Open. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

    Today was going to be fantastic. Me, Crowley and Aziraphale were out enjoying a ‘small’ local Pride event. You see, I’m a nonbinary transmasculine person dating the not so evil Demon Crowley. I had convinced him and Aziraphale to come with me to this event for two reasons. One, I love hanging out with my demon and our angel friend. And Two, It’s nice to be able to express myself in a group of people who understand me.

   The best part was, I somehow convinced both of them to drop their monochrome looks for something with a bit more color. Aziraphale was easy to convince, I got him a nice button up with a pride flag on the pocket, a rainbow bow tie and a pair of rainbow shoes. Crowley on the other hand took a bit of bribery. After hours of begging and making promises the demon finally agreed to at least wear bisexual flag tie and a few different pride pins including a nonbinary rainbow.

   You might be asking that if I got those two to wear pride stuff, I must be wearing something as well, and you would be right. I chose to go a little more bold. I decided to wear my nonbinary flag chest binder with a pair of skinny jeans that have different flags embroidered on it. I also opted for my custom pride converse. To complete the look I had turned my Trans flag into a cape with a piece of ribbon and threw on a pair of rainbow heart shaped sunglasses.

   Now that you have an idea of what our lovely little group is wearing on to the event. Like I said it was supposed to be just a small event in the park but knowing the LGBTQ community it blew up fairly quickly. 

   We walked through the park looking at different stands where small businesses were selling different things they made for pride. I pulled my companions over to one table that had different pieces of fan art for popular queer ships, and picked one up for satosugu from JJK paying the kind person on the other side of the table. We then moved on.

   “It’s so lovely to see all these wonderful people come together to celebrate each other.” Aziraphale said observing the large crowd around us.

    I looked over to him and smiled. “I know right in spite of all the terrible things we have to deal with on a daily basis, it’s nice to be able to be open and proud of who we are.” I said enjoying the feeling of being accepted.  We continued to walk as a group before Zira noticed a stand selling a variety of books written by queer authors, and he abruptly excused himself getting lost in the crowd of people leaving me with my demon boyfriend.

    “For the love of Satan!” I heard Crowley exclaim as he let go of my hand. I turned around to see him looking towards the ground. “You gotta be kidding me!” He continued as I noticed his signature sunglasses on the ground, one lens popped out of place and the other shattered on the ground.

    I walked up to him picking the broken glasses up, trying to think of a solution. “Do you have another pair? Or could you miracle new ones?” I asked, realizing there was no fixing the broken glasses.

    He let out a grunt of disdain for the situation. “No, that was my last pair and I very well can’t miracle another in front of these people. I’ll just have to walk around with my eyes closed.” He said, raising his head with his eyes shut hiding his vibrant yellow eyes.

    I looked at him with a frown. “But if you keep your eyes closed you won’t be able to see all the cool things here.” I said with a sad tone. “You could just tell people you’re wearing contacts.” I said, trying to think of ways he could still enjoy the day.

    “No one would believe that, you know contacts don’t dilate and stuff. It’s fine, as long as you lead me around I'm sure we will still have fun.” Crowley said, brushing off my suggestion as we slowly made our way through the crowd. 

    I stayed silent for a moment trying to think of a solution and then I remembered I was wearing my own pair of sunglasses. “Hey Crowley, what if you wear my sunglasses? It would cover your eyes and we could look at everything together.” I said taking my sunglasses off and placing them on his face. I watched as he opened his eyes behind the rainbow lenses. 

    Crowley took a moment to register that the world was now tinted in rainbow instead of the normal darkness he was used to. “This is the only time I will wear these. As soon as we leave I’m fixing my normal ones.” He said, I just smiled at how cute he looked wearing the colorful shades, paired with his signature scowl. “But thank you love, I appreciate it.” He said leaning in to leave a peak on my check.

    I returned the gesture and grabbed his hand before pulling him back into the large crowd looking at the different stands. We spent the rest of the afternoon talking to people, and buying from small businesses. When we met up with Zira he was shocked by the sight of Crowley wearing the rainbow glasses but dropped it after receiving a death glare from the demon.

    Overall it was a great day, talking to fellow members of the queer community, spending time with my favorite demons and angels, and finally seeing Crowley wearing something other than his dark glasses.

[artharakka]

Can I ask you where have you found inspiration for your art? For example I've noticed you have a very specific (and beautiful) way you draw jewelry and clothing. The shapes are very organic yet grounded at the same time, give a bit of a Nausicaä vibes, as well as art noveau meets iron age.

Honestly I could go on and on about the beautiful details of your art but I don't want to seem too fangirlish :D

Ohhh thank you I love those comparisons 🧡 Because I didn't even know those are the vibes I was going for but yeah that's great actually... This is like when one of you made a playlist inspired by my art... (I still have that saved btw! 🧡 And I still cannot believe!!). Here's a little Rhiam drawing with some jewelry she doesn't (yet) have in canon (earrings she does have but she cannot use them yet)

But what are my inspirations hmmmmmmm many! Idk even what all I have inhaled into my art but I try to list something (this got long so rest under cut):

Nature 🌿 I love both mundane (sparrows, plants growing from asphalt cracks, moss covered street signs... the little details) and grand formations that fill me with awe. There's something about things so vast that take my breath away. Like oceans, mountains, high cliffs, endless tundra, wind so strong you could lean against it, ancient stone that has been scraped visible by massive sheets of ice thousands of years ago. (But I'm guilty of not being that impressed by conventional beauty of average gardens. Aren't people tired of only finding planted blooming flowers beautiful!). Most often I'm drawing inspiration from nature familiar to me, that being Nordic/Scandinavian ones.

I already said nature but birds deserve a special mention! Agh I just love those funky little animals 🦅

Stories! I love making stories, I think they help me grasp and go over my thoughts. I love pouring myself into my characters, it makes them feel both personal but also makes it easier to talk about myself to my fellow storytellers. I'd love to do a long graphic novel or write a book one day, but I also love making ttrpg stories just for and with our little group 🧡 For a long time I felt kinda bad that I wasn't doing "real art" that wasn't just illustrations of my characters. But then I realised doing art for arts sake doesn't really inspire me. I don't want to do art that I'd think would be easily consumable nor do I have any great performance to create with my art. I just love to illustrate stories and tell stories through my art and I think that's great! I still love seeing and experiencing artworks that aren't this illustrative, I just don't have the motivation to do that myself. But I can get really excited of works like Emma Jääskeläinen's granite sculptures!

Other artists! There are two categories I think: 1) those whose work I've seen (usually irl) and whose technique or themes or symbolism facinates me. I usually don't want to create similar art, or replicate their style, or medium even. But there's something about them, a feeling of awe or they feel formidable. Or there's something clever about them that lets me have this sense of epiphany. For example, Jääskeläinen who I already mentioned, Marcel Dzama, Merja Palin, Helena Vaari, Marika Mäkelä, to name a few I've seen lately-ish. And then 2) there are artists whose stories and/or style inspires me and influences my art. One of the biggest inspirations to my softer line art style was and is @albabbgg. @serpentface has some really cool worldbuilding and designs, I think they were also a great influence to how I draw bodies these days. @wiltkingart has also very cool shapes and genders in his paintings. @sanctus-ingenium 's stories and art have been a huge inspiration lately. And to list a few others now that I started: @pangur-and-grim/@greer-art, @beidak-art, @elemei, @emilylorange, @pansylair, @cy-lindric, @psrj, @lokorum

And many others I'm probably forgetting now! I also have a side blog @sancta-cessatrix where I occasionally reblog cool art, check tags #art #inspiration

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 3 - Dildon’t

Chapter 1 Here

Chapter 2 Here

“Can you uh…tell me where the dildos are?” I asked sheepishly. The girl behind the counter looked at me like I was an idiot, gesturing to the giant wall of rubber dicks behind her. 

“Do you need…help?” She asked.

“No.” I wanted to say, but I knew Persephone’s answer would be different if she were here. Instead, she just had to listen to my phone recording from my pocket. I cringed a bit when I said the words I knew she’d prefer.  “Yes please.”

Persephone’s task was a simple one: go to a sex store and purchase a dildo. In person. Do not order one online.

To be honest, the wall of dicks was a bit intimidating. There was a vast array of all shapes and sizes. Some were even shaped like dicks that weren’t of the human species. From her name tag, the clerk’s name was Britney. She smirked a bit at my discomfort. I’m sure she’s had 100’s of men walk in and timidly buy a dildo. Hell, they might have had a woman on the other line listening to them do it too. But that probably didn’t make it any less entertaining for Britney. She was very professional though, and was able to mostly hide her amusement as she waved her hand over the array of options.

“Do you want a hard, plastic material? Or more of a realistic, fleshy rubber?” she asked.

“Realistic.” I said before I could stop myself. 

Again Britney bit back a smirk, like she already knew that’s what I would choose.

“We have some with balls, and some without. Which would you like?” she asked almost rhetorically, still trying to maintain her professionalism.

I already had an answer prepared. Not only because I knew what would be the more humiliating option, but because Persephone explicitly specified.

“Make sure you get one with balls.” She’d said, “I can’t tell you how many losers we have come into the ER because they shove things up their asses that don’t have a flared base.”

Persephone had all kinds of horror stories from working as a nurse in the Emergency Room. When we weren’t discussing the kinky stuff, and she wasn’t making me feel like a submissive little bitch, we talked about our days. We talked about life, books, our philosophies on religion, metaphysics, and what an asshole Elon Musk was. 

“The one with balls please…” I answered Britney. 

She led me to the section of realistic dildos complete with a set of rubber testicles, and even a suction cup on the end, another specification I knew I’d need.

“What…size should I get?” I asked, still a bit overwhelmed. The rubber dicks ranged from anywhere between 3 inches, all the way up to 18. 

Britney threw her hands up “Hey, man…that’s your decision…” she said. But after seeing me deflate a little, she stepped in again. “I would say 6 if you’re just starting…8 if you’d like to be a little more…adventurous.” She paused again, “Can I ask…where you’ll be using them?”

I thought the answer was obvious, “Uh…at my house?”

“No..no…that’s not what I meant…” Britney laughed, unable to contain it this time, “I mean…which…?”

The realization hit me, and I felt so stupid. “Oh, my…my butt I guess.” I felt so ashamed to say it out loud, but Britney didn’t laugh at that part, just nodded in understanding. So I continued, “Maybe my mouth too…or…both? I don’t really know yet, but why does it matter?”

“It’s just that most…guys…that come in tend to prefer this one with a slight curve for anal. It hits your prostate better, but is harder to get down your throat. Whereas the straight one slides down easier.”

I looked back and forth between the two options. They both looked so realistic. The way the head was shaped, the way the shaft was bulging with veins, even the little indentations on the rubber balls. I found myself having to wipe away some excess saliva from my mouth at that moment.

“I uh…”

“You want them both, don’t you?” Britney smiled knowingly.

I sighed, looking down at the floor. “Yes…yes I do.”

“What size? 6 or 8?”

We both looked at each other, already knowing the answer.

“Eight.” we both said in unison.

“Chocolate? Or Vanilla?” she asked, referring to the color.

Again, it didn’t take much thought. “Both.” I smiled. 

I felt more secure now that everything was out in the open. So what if I was a guy buying a bunch of dildos? If I enjoy it, why is that an issue? Britney didn’t see any harm in it, Persephone certainly didn’t and I…wait, did I just admit to enjoying the thought of a bunch of dildos?

After Britney bagged up my new toys, she threw in a complimentary bottle of lube. “Always make sure to use water-based with these, silicon lube will ruin them.” she advised. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

I glanced over at the lingerie section. I could feel my clitty twitching in my panties at the sight. But instead of imagining a beautiful woman wearing them for me, I couldn’t help but picture how cute I would look in it.

Britney caught my eye, but let me take my time.

“That schoolgirl outfit…” I finally said, “Do you have that in a men’s large?”

******

“You were such a good sissy buying a bunch of dicks to play with!” Persephone’s voice message chimed. “You even got a slutty little outfit to wear!!”

I loved it when I got a chance to hear her real voice. Ever since she first sent that first video of a black screen with her seductive vocals I was hooked. 

She would only send me tidbits though. When I asked if we could have phone or skype sessions she refused. 

“I can’t have you getting too worked up and excited.” She said. 

“But I send you videos of me doing…stuff…all the time!” I’d retort. 

“That’s because you’re a pathetic little sissy and you like the humiliation.”

I couldn’t argue that. 

So it was only when I did something good, when I needed motivation to do something bad, or when she just felt I needed to be teased that she would reward me with vocal messages. Soundbites. Just enough to get me mewling and desperate to earn the next one. Like an addict looking for his next fix. A part of me worried ‘she’ was using a voice modification software, or one of those A.I. programs. Just the other day I saw a hilarious video just the other day of Joe Biden, Donald Trump, and Barack Obama all playing Rocket League and talking shit to each other. If they could make that sound so real, what was keeping this mysterious person from doing the same? I tried not to think about it too much. Ignorance is bliss afterall. 

“How did I know you would get a black one? 😂” she typed, “you even got them with balls!!”

“You told me to get them with balls!! 😫” I reminded her. 

“No…I told you to get one with a ‘flared base’, it was your decision to make the base a pair of rubber testicles 😜”

Damn it. She was right. Did I choose them because it was what I thought she wanted, or did I choose it because it was subconsciously what I wanted?

“Well I’m off to bed.” She said. “Sweet dreams, sissy. And try to keep them dry 😉”

That was it? She made me go through all this trouble to buy some rubber dicks and she wasn’t even going to make me use them?? I actually felt more than a little disappointed. 

I stared at them in their packaging. I even had them laid out next to my new schoolgirl outfit. She didn’t tell me to buy that either, but I did it anyway. 

Why would she make me buy them and not let me use them? Sure, I could just do it myself, I didn’t need her to tell me to use them,  but just the thought of doing it on my own accord made me feel dirty. “Gay” even. I’m mostly straight, so playing with rubber dicks on my own would hurt that image. For some reason, her telling me to do it would make me feel better about it. It’s not gay if it’s ‘forced’, right?

She didn’t even give me tasks the next day, or the day after that. I wore panties to work even though she didn’t tell me to. I figured she would if she could, she was probably just busy. 

But that didn’t stop her from talking with me about other stuff. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t find Ayn Rand to be at least a little bit pretentious.” She’d said, “Her writing is dripping with this ‘holier than thou’ attitude that unfettered self-interest is good, and any modicum of altruism is destructive.”

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy our intellectual conversations. I very much did. It helped humanize her and make her less of a fembot that only spewed orders and tasks. But at the same time, I kind of wanted her to give me orders and tasks. Something to do with the new dildos I just bought. Because…I didn’t want the money to go to waste… 

I wanted to ask her something like “when are you going to make me play with my toys?” But I didn’t want to sound needy. Or, at least, too eager to shove dicks up my holes. 

So on the third night of her not mentioning anything about them, I grew impatient. 

I’d already taken the dicks out of the packaging the night before. I just wanted to see how they felt…

Turns out they did have a realistic feel to them. Squishy, yet firm, like actual skin. 

So that night I decided to go all in. I put my school girl outfit on. It fit really well, actually. I liked how short the skirt was, how it was slightly revealing and made my pantied ass look so cute. I stuffed the blouse with some socks to give myself a little cleavage. It made my chest look a lot better. I even put my hair in little pigtails using some rubber bands. I didn’t have any makeup, I was always scared of buying it on my own. 

I examined the two rubber dicks. Attaching the suction cups to the floor so they were pointing straight up. I didn’t really know where to go from there. This is where I wanted direction from Persephone. 

I imagined she’d want me to touch them, so I did, wrapping my hand around each one. They felt big in my palms. They were big. I could barely wrap my fingers around them. But I liked the way they felt. I started stroking them, up and down one at a time, then at the same time. I thought about how I like to be stroked. Not that I’ve been stroked by anyone else, but how I imagined I’d like to be stroked. I put more tension on my thumb and forefinger than anything else. Stroking them up and down and circling around the heads. I did this for a few minutes. 

I knew what to do next, everyone does. No one wants to get a handjob all day. 

“You’re gonna have to suck it.” I imagined Persephone saying, or perhaps it was my own internal dialogue? 

I tentatively bent over. The cock seemed much bigger as I got closer. I opened my mouth, taking the head of the black one inside. It tasted like, well, rubber. It took up more of my mouth than I expected. I tried to go down as far as I could, but it wasn’t much at all. I gagged almost as soon as it touched the back of my throat. I stayed there for a bit, sucking and moving my head just a tad, trying to stroke the other one at the same time. 

I felt like such a slut. Sucking and stroking two dicks at a time, bent over in a schoolgirl outfit. I was a bit ashamed at how painfully hard my cock was inside my panties. 

I switched my mouth, sucking the white one now, trying to keep them both pleased. 

“Mmmphh!!” I heard myself moan, a bit too loudly with the cock in my mouth. Why was this making me so horny??

I pressed my head down as far as I could, trying to deepthroat. I barely even got halfway down before I choked so hard I could taste a bit of bile rising from my stomach. I smacked my tongue to clear the taste, then got back on it. Trying to focus on keeping my teeth from accidentally scraping along the shaft. The dicks were getting wet from me drooling all over them, it made it easier to stroke. I licked the balls the way I saw pornstars do, licking back up the shaft. 

Soon, my jaw started to ache. Turns out holding your mouth open for a while makes the muscles around it get fatigued. I took a break, continuing to stroke both. 

Again, I knew what the next step was. “Lick it before you stick it,” they always say. 

But these dicks were already pretty big for my mouth, I couldn’t imagine fitting one of them in my ass. Maybe I should wait for Persephone, I thought. But another part of me was saying I was already dressed up and horny, what better time than now?

I knew enough about anal sex to know that I couldn’t just shove it in. I had to get my hole ready. I slipped a finger into my mouth to get it wet with my saliva. Reaching back, I pulled my panties aside and pressed it in between my cheeks. 

I gasped as it entered. Persephone had made me do this a few times while I was rubbing my clitty. 

“Eventually I'm just gonna have you finger yourself and cum just from that.” She’d said. 

I still wasn’t quite used to having something in there, but I must have been more relaxed today because it went in easier than usual. I stayed there on all fours, using one hand to finger myself, the other to stroke a fake cock, with the other one in my mouth. I was kind of proud of myself for multitasking so well. 

After getting my entire finger inside, I got out the lube Britney had recommended to me at the sex store. I squirted a very generous amount onto my hand, and coated between my crack. My finger slipped in much easier now, so I added a second, and eventually even a third.

“You can never use too much lube.” Britney had said, and I took that to heart, squeezing a large dollop onto the head of the black penis. 

It was the moment of truth. Again, the cock seemed to be much bigger now that it was about to go inside my asshole. I brought it around behind me, trying to hold it upward so the lube didn’t slide off. The gel felt cold against my hole, and the head felt ginormous. I took a deep breath, biting my bottom lip, and pressed it inward. 

Even going slow, it felt like I was getting stretched open. With only the head entering my rectum, I felt like my sphincter was gonna tear at any moment, every muscle inside was trying to keep it from going inside. I pulled it out, sighing as the pressure released. Then gathered my breath, and tried again. 

It took several attempts of going back and forth to finally get it in a few inches. I still felt like I was getting split open, but less so the more I worked it. Over time, my ass seemed to relax and I was able to give it a small in and out motion. 

There was a certain spot where it felt really good when I pressed against it. I tried to focus on that, but it also gave me the feeling that I needed to pee. 

The position was too awkward to fuck myself and suck the cock in front of me, so I decided to take advantage of the suction cup. I stuck the black dick to the wall, hiked up my skirt, and backed my ass up onto it. I put my hands between my legs to guide it, brushing by my wet and sticky panties as I did so. It was as if there was a constant stream of precum escaping my clitty at all times. I put the other dick under me, able to focus all my forward attention on it. 

It was hard not to imagine being used this way. Some big black man behind me, fucking my ass while I sucked off another. My cock was throbbing again while I rocked back and forth on the rubber ones. I was able to take more in both holes now. My gag reflex seemed to have almost disappeared, and I had to have the black dick at least halfway up my ass. It was starting to feel good. Like, really good. I caught myself moaning again, even groaning when the cock accidentally slid out and my ass was left empty. I’d eagerly reach between my legs and aim it back in again. 

My panties were sopping. I was incredibly horny. Looking sexy as fuck in my dirty fucking schoolgirl outfit while I fucked myself like a sissy whore. I was pleasing dicks. Two dicks. BIG dicks! Persephone would be so proud of me. I was proud of me.

My thoughts were spinning. My head was spinning. I was in this circular haze of desire and submission. It all felt so wrong, but also so right. 

I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. And I wanted it to be while I was spit-roasting myself in the middle of my apartment.

I rubbed the front of my panties the way Persephone always told me. The way I'd made myself cum the last 20 or so times this week. But this was different, I was a slut. I was a whore. I was a sissy. 

Then I came, and I felt like a fucking loser. 

The post-nut clarity hit hard. After having one of the best orgasms of my life, I snapped back into reality with giant rubber dicks in both of my holes. My drool and ass juices were all over them. My own juices were all over my panties and my new outfit. The dicks suddenly didn’t have the same appeal.  The blouse suddenly felt binding. Everything about me just felt…gross. Used. Even though I basically just used myself.

I slid the dick out of my ass, stood up, and looked in the mirror. I really did look like a cheap slut. Outfit and hair all disheveled, I was sweaty, and I had juices leaking everywhere. 

I cleaned myself and everything else up while I tried to erase what I just did from my mind. 

******

I didn’t tell Persephone about what I did. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed that I let myself get to that point. What did it say about me that I couldn’t resist a pair of rubber dicks?

As the day went by and my libido built back up, I started finding ways to justify it: you spent a lot of money on them, you might as well use them. It’s not gay if they’re not real. It was just one time, what could it hurt? 

But it wasn’t just one time. Two days later when I was in the throes of horniness, I did it again. The next day I put one of them higher on the wall and practiced servicing it while I was on my knees. 

Persephone’s tasks had been too simple. “Lick the cum from your panties when you’re done playing with your clitty,” or “go to the restroom at work and shove your finger up your ass.”

It left me wanting more. Needing more. I found myself thinking about how much better the rubber dick felt up my butt instead of my thumb. 

It was like I wasn’t getting enough from her, but I didn’t know how to ask for more without it looking like I was a gay little whore.

“I’m going to ask you something and I need you to answer honestly.” She said one day. 

It always made me nervous when she started a conversation that way. Like when she asked me what my real name was (Alan), where I was from (Lousiana) and if I was a virgin (obviously. Unless you count my schoolgirl escapades…). I probably should have lied about those things, but I was growing to trust her more and more each day. 

“Sure.” I sent. “You can ask me anything…”

I always felt a little tension as the Persephone is typing… indicator came up. It seemed to take forever. Or maybe my anxiety just made it seem that way. Finally, her message bubble popped up:

“Have you used one of your dildos already?”

I gulped, a fresh flood of shame filling me. What should I say? Should I tell her I used them without her permission? Would she be mad? Did I even need her permission?

I could just deny it. She had no way of knowing if I was lying. She might even get a little upset and angrily make me use them in order to ‘punish’ me. 

I didn’t want to have to tell her that I used them on my own, but this relationship—whatever it was—wouldn’t work if I wasn’t honest. 

“Yes Goddess,” I sent, “ I did. I’m sorry 😔”

I cringed from the humiliation, knowing what I did and not knowing how she’d take it. 

“Did I say you could use them?”

“No Goddess…”

“But you did it anyway??”

“Yes Goddess…😣”

I braced myself for her wrath. Her reaction and resolution, but instead I got:

“Bahahaha!! How did I KNOW you would??”

I didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that I did it to myself was humiliating enough, but to know that she expected it…

“I’m gonna need you to tell me everything. And i mean *everything*! I want every single detail from how it tasted, how it felt, and how it made you feel.”

And so I did, I typed out every single detail of my adventures with the rubber dicks over the week since I bought them. I was hot with embarrassment the whole time, but I had that submissive chill as well. 

“The fact that you fucking spitroasted yourself is just so damn funny to me 😂” she said. 

“So you’re not mad?” I asked. 

“Mad? Of course I’m not mad! I always expect sissy baby girls to play with their toys! And I find it sooo much more hilarious when I leave them to their own devices, and they end up doing it without me even telling them 😈”

I smacked my face with my palm. She did it intentionally. She purposefully didn’t give me tasks with the dildos because she knew I would play with them on my own, and I played right into her hand. 

“This should go without saying,” she typed, “but from now on, you are not allowed to cum unless there’s a dick in your ass or mouth…or both. Unless I say otherwise. You need to learn to associate your pleasure with the pleasing of someone else at the same time.”

It seemed reasonable. I had already been following that particular guideline the last few days anyway. I didn’t have a single orgasm without at least one of those dicks inside me. 

“How will you know if I'm following that rule?” I asked. 

“I won’t.” She said, “But let’s just say…I trust you will have no problem acquiescing my request 😉”

Damn it, I hated when she was right, and so far she’d been right about pretty much everything. 

“Now, because you decided to be a little whore all by yourself, I think it’s time you send me another video, holding up your toys, and using your sissy voice to remind me exactly what a little slut for cock you are…”

To Be Continued

Chapter 7 just got released on my SubStar. If you'd like to check it out, head on over!

[drdemonprince]

Dear dr. Price,

A follower pointed out your book Unmasking Autism to me and said it was a life-saver. I have put in on my birthday wishes list.

According to lists on the net, I am supposed to reflect on whether I am behaving in a way that is aims at others' needs or my own and so on. This is precisely my problem. I am closer to 50 than to 40 and have probably been masking for over 40 years. How can I know what type of behaviour is learnt? What is ingrained? Is it possible that I have passed the window where I can still find natural conduct?

If you could see your way clear to answer my concern, I should be much obliged.

Kind regards,

Maarten

Hi Maarten!

Thank you so much for your question. While I understand deeply the desire to try and sort out which elements of yourself are naturally you and which elements are learned behaviors linked to a lifetime of trauma, in actuality there is no separating them. There is only one you. You have only lived one life, and it was the (at times very challenging and invalidating) life that you had. Humans are social beings, it almost makes as little sense to thing of humans in individual terms as it does to discuss ants without talking about colonies. Who we are is social, interpersonal, relational, and interactive.

The good news about that, however, is that who we are and how we feel can change, so long as our circumstances do. To some degree, masking and inhibition may always feel natural to you. I've been utterly fixated on unmasking both personally and professionally for years now, and while I've opened up a lot and learned many communication skills, my default mode of operating is still always to clench up. I will probably carry that reflex inside me for all of my life. That reflex has helped me. That reflex has saved me a great many times. It's just also hurt me and cost me a ton. And these days I try to accept all of that, and accept myself as the mutable, fragile, self-protective, sensitive being that I am.

I think it is far easier to focus on small behaviors and desires (and not-desires) than it is to worry too much about who we "really are" who we "would have been" in a completely alternate reality where we hadn't suffered the experiences that we have. Thinking about a fully liberated and unfiltered alternate self is enticing, I fantasize about who I'd have been in a better world all the time, but that person does not exist, and never did, and never ever would have.

Neurotypical are harmed by neuro-conformity pressures too. Capitalism, white supremacy, and the gender binary restrict how all people behave today pretty severely. Nobody lives fully free right now. This might sound bleak, but it's also a fact that unites us, and thinking about it gives me some hope. It helps me realize that I'm not uniquely boxed inside myself and separated from other people -- I'm suffering from the exact same forces that all people do, just in my own way.

I'm not uniquely broken. Neither are you. But we are irrevocably shaped by our life experiences. Instead of trying to change who we are, or find some inner true self, which is a daunting task, I think that instead, we can just practice saying no to things that make us uncomfortable, asking for the changes to our environment that we do need in order to feel comfortable, sharing what we feel, and taking time regularly to take stock of our lives and figure out what it is that we want and we wish for. It starts small.

Little phrases like "I don't like that," "I don't feel good," "I'm not interested in talking about that," "I'm going to go do something else," "Here's what i believe," "I don't agree with you," "I really need [thing]," and "I want to build a life with more room for [thing] in it" are some places to start. Truly, the more you get in the practice of saying such things, the better you get at noticing how you are feeling, and the more feelings and wants and not-wants you become able to self advocate for. It's not about becoming a new person, or throwing off the mask in one go. It's a skill, and anyone can develop a skill. You might as well make the rest of your life better. No amount of suffering in the past condemns you to needing to feel shitty about your desires forever.

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 17 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3117 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

We kicked back and enjoyed our breakfast, talking and laughing while the music played softly from the record player. I smiled, soaking in the scene, letting it stick in my memory: the morning sun streaming in, sneaking through the window, hitting Dave's ginger hair and lighting up his face. His hands deftly cutting the fruits, the juice from the strawberries he held dribbling down the knife blade as he chatted with me, the sound of his voice filling up the room.  It was calm.  Like pure happiness.

✦ summary: Amidst their new shared life, Dave and Nore create a memorable celebration for Nore's 19th birthday, with a surprise date and unexpected gifts.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, romance, fluff

✦ a/n: Hello! I think this is one of the longest chapters in the story so far, but I wanted to keep it all in one part since it's a special for Nore's 19th birthday! Plus, I wanted to give them a cute moment before the angst makes a comeback, hehe. By the way, in case any of you were curious, Nore was born on June 20. Yep, she's a Gemini! In my mind, that makes a lot of sense lol Hope you enjoyed it, and comments and feedback are totally welcome! ❤

✧ when I’m sad, she comes to me / with a thousand smiles / she gives to me free / it’s alright, she said / it’s alright / take anything you want from me / you can take anything, anything ✧

Dave and I were happy living together, at least for the following weeks. Those were the days when we were more in love than ever; Dave’s love for me burned as bright as the anger he felt towards the world and his past. He was like fire, intense and desperate, and I remember knowing, even back then, that I would never be the same again after being loved like that.

Our routine was calm, even though we had our fair share of hurdles, especially when it came to money. Dave worked at a car wash for a few weeks, but then he went back to just selling his drugs. He said it was just easier this way, plus it gave him time to focus on his music. He’d spend his days jamming, practicing, and creating, perfecting old solos, sketching lyrics for his songs.

I ended up going back to my old drawing hobby; it wasn’t too long before I found myself sketching all sorts of portraits of him, trying to capture the way his forehead would scrunch up a bit when he was too focused, the curve of his jaw, the shape of his lips. Our days were filled with art and each other's presence. And, for a while, that was enough.

As the days rolled by after being kicked out of the band, Dave's low spirits started to ease up, being replaced bit by bit with a fierce determination. Dave was still kind and sweet to me, but to the rest of the world, he seemed even more rebellious and angry than before. He was getting into fights even more often than usual, and he was having a real hard time getting a new band together, as many of his friends just didn't want to deal with his more and more common bursts of anger.

I watched these events unfold with a heavy heart, trying my best to help him. I knew he was putting on this front because he was hurting. He never let himself cry in front of me, but his sleep was restless, and many times I would wake up in the middle of the night because of how tormented he was by his nightmares. He'd hold onto me real tight, like he was scared I'd just vanish, and only then could we both finally go back to sleep.

In the middle of all the chaos, he loved me like he’d never loved before, and I knew that most of my days would end with me wrapped in his arms, surrendering to his touch as he undressed me, kissed me, and loved me. And there, with him, I felt alive.

Sometime down the road, I scored a new job at a neighborhood’s record store. The owner had a daughter around my age named Patricia, and even though the store got pretty busy, things there had a pretty chill pace. We'd spend our days talking and reading all the music magazine articles in the store. Turns out we had quite the same taste when it came to music, and it didn't take long for us to become friends.

Time flew by quickly, and before I knew it, my birthday had arrived. I stretched with a sigh as I woke up, soaking in the sunlight sneaking in through the curtain. I sat up in bed, surprised that Dave wasn't there; he usually snoozed in later than me. I got up, heading to the living room still in my pajamas, and caught a nice smell of cooking in the air.

"Hey there," I yawned when I spotted Dave, looking very focused while cooking something. 

"Morning, birthday girl. Happy birthday," Dave looked up and flashed me a grin. I leaned on the doorframe, watching with a smile as he turned off the stove and plated the scrambled eggs he was whipping up. "Was gonna bring you breakfast in bed, but you beat me to it."

"I can totally go back to bed if you want," I teased. He chuckled, coming closer, and put his hands on my hips before planting a little kiss on my forehead.

"Don't sweat it. Go get changed, I'll set the table."

I went through my usual morning routine and changed up before heading back to the living room. Stepped into the room, and there was Dave, all set up at the table with various foods: he'd chopped up some fruit, whipped up scrambled eggs, poured orange juice, and there were even some pancakes. A Fleetwood Mac song was coming softly from the record player, which made me smile because they were one of my favorite bands.

"Not claiming to be a master chef here, but I hope you like it," he said, flashing a smile as he took his spot at the table. I poured some juice for myself. 

"I loved it, Dave," I grinned right back at him. "Thanks." 

"So, you got work today or what? 'Cause I've got a few things lined up for us," he asked. 

"Nope, not today. Boss gave me the day off," I said, tilting my head, kinda curious. "What's the plan?" 

"Ah, now that's a surprise," he grinned, and I playfully rolled my eyes, giving a little chuckle.

We kicked back and enjoyed our breakfast, talking and laughing while the music played softly from the record player. I smiled, soaking in the scene, letting it stick in my memory: the morning sun streaming in, sneaking through the window, hitting Dave's ginger hair and lighting up his face. His hands deftly cutting the fruits, the juice from the strawberries he held dribbling down the knife blade as he chatted with me, the sound of his voice filling up the room. 

It was calm. 

Like pure happiness.

Our moment got thrown off by a sudden knock on the door. Dave furrowed his brow, looking annoyed at the door before he got up to answer it. I watched, curious, as he swung the door open and headed outside to talk to someone who looked like a delivery person. He was taking way longer than I thought, and I was about to go check things out, but it wasn't needed. I jumped when Dave came rushing in, looking more excited than I had seen him in weeks. 

"You've gotta check this out," he said, grabbing my hand. "Come on."

"What?" I laughed, trailing behind him as we ran down the stairs of the building, making a beeline for the garage. But he just chuckled low and kept tugging me along. "Dave. What's going on?" I let out this little shriek that turned into laughter when he came to a sudden stop, almost causing me to crash into him if he hadn't steadied me, holding me close. I took a step back, a bit out of breath and kinda baffled, a little smile creeping up on my lips. "Alright, tell me."

“You tell me,” he said, handing over an envelope. I furrowed my brow, puzzled. "This one's for you." 

"You brought me down to the garage for an envelope?" I joked. 

"Nope," he laughed, nodding towards our apartment's parking spot. "Check that out."

My mouth opened in amazement as I glanced over at the parking spot. Right next to Dave's old Mazda was the most jaw-dropping motorcycle I'd ever seen, shiny and new with an electric blue paint that almost seemed to glow. 

"Dave, what the fuck?" I turned to him, totally incredulous, and he laughed. "Did you buy this thing?" 

"I wish. That envelope came along. Maybe you should open it."

I popped the envelope open quickly, excited to crack this case, and my eyebrows shot up when I yanked out the motorcycle keys and a letter, with a handwriting I instantly recognized as my mother’s.

"Dear Eleanore, 

I hope you know that despite recent events, your dad and I care deeply about you. And of course, we couldn't forget your birthday! 

I must admit, I was a bit surprised to hear that you're living in Los Angeles instead of staying with your cousin. You know Long Beach is right around the corner, so your dad suggested that a decent ride would be an ideal birthday gift. 

Consider it a vote of trust after what happened last year. 

Enjoy your day! 

Love, 

Clémence Burton 

p.s.: We heard you're living with your boyfriend. We hope to meet him soon."

"Check this out," I said, handing him the letter while I scooted over to get a closer look at my gift. Dave skimmed through the text in the letter, raising an eyebrow. 

"You're a spoiled little rich kid," he laughed, flicking the letter back at me. I caught it and rolled my eyes with a grin. "Your mom sounds kinda scary."

"That's just how she is. But don't stress over it," I replied. 

"It's kinda hard not to think about it all," he said, gazing at the motorcycle with a sort of longing look. "Damn, Nore. I knew your family had money, but..." 

"Yeah, they're loaded. But I'm not," I said, playfully. Dave rolled his eyes but smirked. 

"If my mom was packing cash, I'd be hittin' her up for way more than your basic allowance every month. You've got any clue how many drugs you could score with the price of this bike?" 

I scoffed, my face getting a bit warm. It was sweet to get a gift like that, no doubt, but even though my parents had money, I wasn't too keen on relying on it. I learned early on that taking their money meant taking their rules, and that wasn't something I wanted anymore.

"Let's go back inside," I changed the subject, grabbing Dave's hand. He laced his fingers with mine, the warmth of his skin helping to shake off some of the frustration that talking about my parents always stirred up. We went back up the stairs to our apartment.

"Can I get a killer bike like that for my birthday?" he blurted out, and I laughed. 

"Isn't your birthday kinda far off?" I quipped as we reentered the apartment. I watched as he grabbed his leather jacket and house keys. “You headed out?“

"Yeah, but I won't be gone long," he grinned and planted a small kiss on my forehead. "Got some deliveries to make. Be ready for your surprise when I'm back, cool? We're going out at five."

“Do I need to wear something specific?” I tried to squeeze a hint about his scheme out of him, but he just grinned back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

"Nah, just look stunning. I mean, that's a given with you, anyway," he cupped my face in his hands, planting a bunch of small kisses on my lips and making me giggle. "See you in a bit." 

"Later, Dave."

Dave left, and I focused on clearing the breakfast table, nibbling on the leftover fruits as I stored the food and tidied up the dishes. Then I focused on picking the outfit I would wear to celebrate my birthday. I was on the hunt for my Motörhead tee in the pile of shirts at the end of the bed when I heard the phone ring and rushed to answer it.

"Hello."

"Hey, Nore."

"Cliff?? " I asked, stunned, a mixed bag of feelings flooding in as I heard his voice. I missed him, because we hadn't been talking for weeks. I was angry, too, because there was one very obvious reason why we weren't talking; I hadn't exactly worked through the sting of Dave being kicked out yet. And even if I wasn't ready to admit it, I was stoked to hear Cliff's voice again. To know he was there. "How'd you even know my number?" I finally managed to ask. He let out a sigh.

"It ain't rocket science when you've given your address to my mom... I can't believe you're living with Dave." 

My cheeks warmed up.

"Yeah, he asked and I... I didn't think it would be a problem."

“Your mom’s pissed, you know?” 

“Yeah. I figured. But you know I don't care.”

He let out a soft chuckle.

"Happy birthday, by the way," he said.

"Oh, thanks," 

"Do you want to chat with Lars and James? They wanted to wish you a happy birthday too."

I paused. The way Cliff spoke, it was almost like the past few weeks of silence because of Dave hadn't happened. I could never hold a grudge against him for too long, but being upset with Lars and James was a new experience for me. It was kind of confusing, especially after that call from James a few weeks back. I admit I tried not to dwell on it — the desire and longing I had heard in his voice that night, the way he seemed genuinely distressed not to have me around. 

I definitely wasn't ready to deal with that.

"I think I'll pass for now," I said quickly. "It's just that..."

"You’re still pissed off at us?" Cliff's tone carried a tinge of disappointment.

"It's not exactly that. It's just... complicated. But please tell them I appreciate it."

"Alright. Will you be around when I'm back?"

I hesitated, but who was I kidding? Despite all the trouble with Dave and the guys, I couldn't really stay away from Cliff.

"Yeah, sure," I said, a small smile involuntarily creeping onto my lips.

"See you then."

"Later, Cliff."

Dave showed up right at five to pick me up for the birthday surprise. I was in the middle of fixing my outfit when the jingle of keys at the door hit my ears. Soon enough, he showed up, casually leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"Hey, babe. You look hot," he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

"Hi," I finished fixing my hair and turned to face him with a smile. "I'm all set. So, are you gonna spill the beans on where we're headed?" 

"Patience, my dear. You'll know soon enough. Ready to roll?"

I followed him to the car, sneakily studying his expression for any clues about what was in store, but he just shot me a knowing smile as we cruised out of the apartment parking lot.

"Why are you staring at me?" he smirked.

"Just curious. You gonna let me in on the secret plan?" 

"Guess patience isn't your strongest suit, huh?" he chuckled, and I playfully rolled my eyes.

At last, we pulled up to a spot where a line of cars had already formed for parking. I looked at the scene curiously, letting out a soft chuckle when Dave used one hand to cover my eyes. 

"Dave, what's the deal?" 

"Just keep 'em shut, alright? Trust me, it's gonna be worth it."

I followed his lead, even though my curiosity was on the brink. I waited, a smirk tugging at my lips, while he kept driving and then deftly maneuvered the car. Finally, he parked, and I heard a rustling sound as he grabbed something from the back seat. I fought the urge to sneak a peek. 

"Alright, eyes open," he announced, and I obeyed, taking in the scene unfolding around me with a grin that just kept growing; we were in an open field, the sun dipping toward the horizon as cars settled around us. And right in front of us, a big screen stood, still turned off.

"A drive-in theater?" I exclaimed, my excitement evident. I looked over at Dave and noticed he had a bunch of snack packs and soda cans in his hands. 

"Well, you're a movie fan, right? Figured it'd be a cool idea," he handed me a bag of chips and a can of cola. 

"I love it," I grinned, reaching for his hand. "What's on the movie list?" 

"Indiana Jones. I know it's not exactly the most romantic choice, but it was the only flick playing today..." 

"Dave, you brought me to a drive-in on my birthday. That's pretty romantic in my book," I quipped with a soft laugh, and he smiled, pulling me a bit closer and planting a gentle kiss on my lips. "Plus, I like Indiana Jones," I added, and he chuckled.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, stars started to twinkle in the night sky, and the movie began. I tried my best to follow the storyline and enjoy the chips and soda Dave had considerately gotten, but I couldn't resist exchanging glances and grins with him. Before long, those glances turned into his hand finding my waist and pulling me close as I surrendered to his kisses, the movie almost entirely forgotten as we basked in each other's warmth.

I let myself stay in his embrace as the movie wrapped up and the credits rolled, a smile gracing my lips as I absentmindedly played with his hair, feeling a light flush in my cheeks as he gazed back at me.

"So, did you enjoy your day?" he asked softly.

"It was amazing. Thanks, Dave," I smiled.

"Hey, it's not over yet," he teased, and I let out a soft chuckle. Leaning over, he popped open the car compartment and retrieved a small package, handing it to me. My eyes fixed on the little box, and then I glanced up at him, intrigued. "Couldn't let the day go by without a little something." 

I opened the box, a warm feeling spreading through me as I caught sight of its contents: a silver necklace with a delicate blue stone pendant. Dave gently took the box from my hands, sweeping my hair aside to clasp the necklace around my neck. His fingers traced the curve of the chain, cradling the tiny stone in his palm before he looked at me with that familiar smile. 

"Reminded me of you when I saw it. Thought it'd suit you," he shared, and I chuckled softly. "Even if it's not quite as grand as that motorcycle..." 

"Shut up, Dave," I whispered, drawing him into a tender kiss. His laughter brushed against my lips, the kiss as easy and familiar as always. Pulling back, I met his gaze, my eyes locked with his as his hand cupped my chin. "I love it. Thank you." 

A soft smile curved his lips as his hand found mine, our fingers intertwining while I rested my head against his shoulder. I allowed myself to linger there, embracing the happiness I felt, the solace and comfort his presence brought, and how things had certainly changed for the better since the disaster of my last birthday.

I didn't know what the next year held for me, but I hoped it would be just like that day: brimming with happiness and peace, despite everything.

And with the boy I loved by my side.

[oftlunarialmoon]

Top 5 Hobbies for a Kawaii Lifestyle

Originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on January 11, 2019

Ciao lovelies! Today here’s 5 “Kawaii Lifestyle” Hobbies!

Now before I begin, I want to say that these hobbies are NOT the only hobbies that can be included in a “Kawaii Lifestyle”! You could do anything for hobbies and still lead a kawaii life. These are just some hobbies that may be considered “Kawaii” traditionally/stereotypically.

So now, let’s get into this super cute hobby list!

#1- Toy Collecting! Many Kawaii Lifestylers that I know of, myself included, collect toys! Some collect vintage toys, some collect modern and some collect both! Toy collecting can be very fun for many reasons. For one, if you have a more childish nature/if you’re an age regressor, you can play with the toys! For two, your toy collection can make great kawaii décor! Toys come in all shapes and colors and sizes, so you can carefully select what you want to display! Some Kawaii toys to collect that I recommend: Num-Noms!

As well as: Calico Critters (also known as Sylvanian Families), Shopkins Lil Secrets (Which are a lot like old school Polly Pockets), Squishies, Molang figures, Monster High Minis….ect! 

And going right along with toy collecting is…

#2- Toy Photography / Doll Photography! Another super fun and “kawaii” hobby is toy photography! Toys and dolls can be easier photo subjects (sometimes) than humans in my opinion because you can pose them exactly how you imagine, and you can take many shots while they hold the same pose! There are many highly poseable kawaii dolls like Monster High, Ever After High, Made-To-Move Barbie, and even BJD!

#3- Crafting/DIY! A big part of Kawaii subculture which isn’t really talked about enough in my opinion is the amount of crafty kawaii lifestylers! I’ve seen so many crafty kawaii lifestylers who make their own clothes, jewelry, accessories, décor… but yet I don’t see much discussion about it, and it can be hard to find good craft tutorials online for that specific niche! But crafty-ness is a big part of kawaii culture! I’ve even recently discovered a good place to get some kawaii stickers and beads for cute resin and jewelry projects, Blippo.com ! Blippo has many very kawaii items for pretty cheaply, just the other night I ordered a BUNCH of stuff for under $12 and free shipping, as well as a free mystery welcome gift! (my full review of Blippo is coming soonish, my orders are still in post). Another great place to find kawaii craft supplies is Aliexpress using search terms like “Kawaii Cabochon” and others like that. Just remember that Aliexpress is similar to Amazon/Ebay and you should always check the reviews before buying anything! (Note- this post was not sponsored by either of these sites, this is just my own opinion).

#4- Baking! Baking can be so much fun, and you don’t even need to make things from scratch to have a good time! Want to know a secret? Some of the best cakes I’ve ever made were with a modified box mix! One of my best tips is: “To make a boxed cake mix really amazing, follow the directions on the box EXCEPT: add 1 more egg than what it calls for, instead of using oil use melted butter (and double the amount), instead of water use milk!” This tip I found on Pinterest, and I’ve used it several times to make some of the best cakes and cupcakes I’ve ever made! ….So I bet you’re wondering how this hobby is particularly “kawaii”? Well, the decorating of course! Decorating cakes, cupcakes, cookies and more is one of the best parts of baking! You can make the baked good as kawaii as you want!

#5- Journaling! I know I mentioned this briefly in Wednesday’s post, but let’s talk quickly about how to make this kawaii. Again, you can use sites like Blippo.com to find cute stickers, washi tape, pens and pencils! You can also doodle in your journal and draw cute things like flowers, animals, and chibis! You can also press flowers in a journal for extra cute-ness. 

What do you think of our suggestions? What do you consider to be “kawaii” hobbies? Let us know in the comments!

Remember to Stay Awesome and Love Yourself!

[yourmomni]

Crush-1

Word count: 2k

Summary: y/n is just trying to get through life and university without making any humanly contact with other people minus her bestfriends and her protective sister but what happened when the soccer captain falls head over heels for her and develops a crush on her

Jake soccer x femreader

A/n: chapter 2 🥰

The library was extra quiet today making it easier to study and grab any books I wanted. Some may call me an overachiever but I just like to get things done and correct the first time so if that means studying until the late am's and not having a social life then so be it.

"Y/N I've been looking for you everywhere, come on the place closes at 8." I pushed my glasses up " Okay okay one more page." My sister snatched the book from me then closed it. " no more pages now let's go." She grabbed my arm dragging me out of my seat. My sister Amilla was the spitting image of our mother with her soft brown skin, a mole under her eye and her almond shaped eyes. The only difference was the under strands of her hair being dyed a now faded pink.

It was your sophomore year in college and your sister's senior year in university. She dragged you out of the library with your protest falling on deaf ears. She finally let you go as you both continued walking with your tote bag hanging over your shoulder. "You could've at least let me put my books away." I grumbled she shrugged me off and we cut across the grass. "Sorry it's just I want a good seat and I wanna try their new drink in the menu."

You smiled to yourself knowing her real reason for wanting to go to the Cafe. " yeah sure it's totally not because of the new barista that works there." She faltered a little but went back to her same pace. " I have no idea who you're talking about." I caught up to her. " yes you do what his name again Jay." She pushed me away but not before smiling. "Stopppp." I giggled. In my eyes Amilla was the most beautifulest person in the world to me. She could blink once and all the men in the world would fall to their knees and worship her.But she never gave them the day until Jay

On our breaks before class started we usually would get pick me up from the Cafe across campus that was a hot spot for all the other students as well. Me and Amilla were walking to our usual table when we notice it needed to be clean off

" oh let me go find someone to clean that off for you ladies." The older lady who owned the Cafe said we thanked her. " hey I'm gonna go order our drinks." I said leaving her alone. She nodded and went on her phone. " Sorry for the mess." " oh it's fine." She looked up from her phone and was met with a handsome boy whipping down her table. Not the normal guy who usually did. He had black hair and it was parted through the middle and two hoop earrings in his ear. Handsome was a understatement. He finished cleaning and turned towards her his breath hitched but he caught himself before she noticed.

"Hi, you must be new." He nodded "yeah new." She smiled at him. " I mean yes I'm new today is my first day." Amilla reached her hand out " well nice to meet you I'm Amilla ." He went for her hand but immediately retracted it back, wiping it on his apron. " I'm sorry, before this I was baking in the back with my hands all dirty. I wouldn't wanna get you all messy." He rambled on. " I'm Jay by the way." I nodded. God he was cute. I mentally slapped myself

Amilla remembered what mom said " men are the devil in disguise waiting to ruin your life and take everything you've worked for." maybe she was being a little dramatic after your parents divorce but she always raised us to be independent and never depend on anyone else

"Jay I need you back here." " Coming." He yelled back. " I um gotta go ill see you around." He walked away disappearing in the back." Yeah totally later." The smile wouldn't disappear from her face. " who was that." I asked, raising my eyebrows. She took her drink. " Just the new guy, his name is jay."

Amilla shoved my shoulder when I reminded her of the time she and Jay met. " Okay I admit he is kinda cute-" I squealed" but that doesn't mean anything. It's normal to find people attractive." I scoffed. "Yeah but not for you." As I was talking to her I had a weird feeling someone was staring at me. But I shrugged it off. I was never the type of girl to get compliments from guys or have them drool over me. I always kept to myself socializing only when needed. Despite all that I still had friends but they always were the complete opposite of me. Outgoing party people while I just enjoyed reading and staying In all day. No one was interested in me or so I thought

" Wow." Jake said stopping in his tracks watching the prettiest girl walk past he admired her side profile and gasped when she turned her head to face him without looking at him. " Hey bro, who is that?" He tapped Heeseung's chest. Heesueng looked up from his phone. " Who Amilla?" Jake shook his head. " no the girl beside her." " That's Y/n her little sister." Jake smirked. " Y/n." He started walking towards her " hey woah woah." Heeseung grabbed his arm. " Where are you going? We have class."

"I'm going to go talk to her." He said removing his hand. "Jake be careful not many people talk to her and I heard her sister is really protective ." Jake looked towards the gìrl again. if he was in a cartoon hearts would have been flying above his head " what is she going to do kill me." Heeseung sighed and jake jogged off before heesung could interject again

Your sister was telling you how much she needed coffee when a boy stood in front of you blocking your way. " Hi." He said look at us. " um hi can we help you." The tone in my sister's voice turned dark causing me to get a little nervous.``yes you can actually." He looked at me and I jumped a little. " Hi My name is Jake." He extended his hand out to me and I just stared at it

My sister was watching me in confusion. I took his hand and shook it." Nice to meet you I'm Y/n." He smiled " yeah I know." My eyes widened " you know who I am." Now I was the one confused and my sister was watching us in amusement. " Yes I've been watching you for some time you read in the bleachers while I have practice." I heard my sister scoff and she got in front of me.

"Yeah she's not interested." I looked at her in shock. " I'm not?" He raised his eyebrows `` I don't understand." "Well I do." She started walking towards him now I was completely behind her " You don't know my sister nor have you seen her around. She spends most of her time in the library or in her dorm, she doesn't have any friends-" I interrupted " I have Jeno." " He doesn't count. Anyways" she is closer to him " I know boys like you. Boys who think it's funny to mess with the quiet girl , you mess with their heads making them targets for your little '' fan girls'' to push around and abuse making them feel bad about themselves. It's pathetic and under my watch you will not do it to my sister come on y/n." She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the boy I looked back at him to see him waving with a sad smile and I waves back

" Aw he was cute." I pouted and she dragged me all the way to the Cafe in silence ordering our drinks and sitting down " why wouldn't you let me talk to jake." I stirred my tea " because he's a fuckboy who wants nothing but to ruin you." I frowned. "He seemed nice. And I do read on the bleachers during soccer. Maybe he has really seen me." My sister groaned " Y/n open your eyes Jake's-" " What about sim jake." Jeno slide in beside me pushing me to the side." Hello Jeno, how nice of you to show up." I said, rolling my eyes at him. Jeno smiled widely, making me push his face away. `` he was trying to talk to y/n."" he what, when." He asked frantically, shaking my arm. Just then Amillas' order came and Jay sat it down in front of her. " Here Milla, I hope you enjoy it. I made it just the way you like it, extra sweet." He winked and walked away. I squealed, " I made it extra sweet just like you." Jeno copied his voice and I giggled

" did he call you Milla." She was smiling hard trying to look away from me " You do like him." She shushed me tossing a napkin at me " Okay fine maybe just a little though." Jeno shrugged. " He's on the soccer team with me, he's pretty cool, he hangs out with the captain mostly . Speaking of the captain, why were you talking about jake." Amilla rolled her eyes " He tried picking up your bestfriend that's what happened and I shut him down immediately." Jeno gasped ." Why the hell would you do that he's nice." I looked at her." Because she thinks I can't take care of myself." You can't." She bluntly replied I looked at her and gasped " what yes I can right Jeno." He looked away from me like he was reading the back of my cup. I slapped his shoulder." Y/n you can barely cook, I have to remind you to go to sleep most night because you stay up studying till the late nights and you get lost everywhere you go." I crossed my arms. " I get confused sometimes." She sighed " I'm just looking out for you, you've never had a boyfriend before-" " yes I have" "Jeno doesn't count." I pouted " it was like for 4 days and you both couldn't stand each other." I silently agreed with her but jeno stayed silent.

"Just give him a chance please." Amilla didn't even look at her sister's pleading face; she immediately declined it ." Not gonna happen."

After lunch at the Cafe I said bye to my sister and walked to my last class of the day while she went home to finish her paper. I took my glasses off and put them in the case dropping them in my tote.

"HEY WATCH OUT." I turned around one second and the next I was on the ground with something heavy on top of me." Ow." I groaned. " shit shit shit y/n I'm so sorry." Jake was looking down at me frantic. He quickly got up and grabbed my hand. " Are you ok?" I dusted my skirt off and noticed my knee was bleeding." Yeah I'm fine just a scratch." He started putting everything back into my bag while rambling on about how sorry he was.

With him on the ground I finally got a better look at him and his features. He was handsome, really handsome. " Your Australian right." I mentally slapped myself, talking to people is not my strong suit. He smiled up at me. " Yeah I'm an international student here but I'm korean so that's why they put me in the korean dorms." I nodded silently proud of my self for starting a conversation. " soooo um I heard that your on the soccer team well you kind of told me and other people told me also." I rambled on he nodded. " So you've been talking about to other people about me, it's good to know I left a good impression on you. I thought I messed up." He stood up handing me my bag. I thanked him. " Yeah sorry about my sister she's really-" "protective." He finished. I nodded. "Yeah but I thought you were sweet." He smiled " oh really." I looked away at him so he wouldn't see me smile.

" Yeah not many people talk to me especially to flirt." I looked back at him and he was looking at me with so much endearment. "I-i-." I couldn’t figure out the words to say with him staring at me like that. No one has ever looked at me the way he was.." your the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He blurted out I didn't know how to react but jake seemed shocked at his words." I mean…..wait what am I saying… I didn't mean that well I did mean that you are beautiful." My brain was overflowing with signals to run and get away from this hazard as fast as I could. I've never experienced a feeling like this. My stomach started bubbling and I felt light. Was this what having a crush feels like.

Jake continued to ramble on and didn't stop until I told him too "I get it it's okay." He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and started fiddling with his fingers. If his friends could see him now. THE Jake Sim stuttering in front of a girl. That was rare. He was known for his handsome features and charming personality which meant that every girl at the university had a crush on him. "I think you're pretty handsome yourself." He smiled. The noon clock ringed bringing me back to reality "oh nooo I'm late for lecture." I pulled my phone out to check if the clock was maybe going too fast. " you have psych right I'll walk you I'm going the same way I have bio in the building over I'm late for class aswell." I nodded and we walked together. We started talking about the soccer team and their next game. "I didn't know you liked soccer have you gone to any games." I nodded, smiling." Yeah my best friend jeno is on the team.

He bit the inside of his cheek. " Wait your friends with jeno." He looked concerned." Yeah since we were kids." We made it to my class and I bowed. " thank you for walking me to class." He bowed to me." Thank you for letting me and I'm sorry about your leg." I looked down at the dry blood on my knee. " it's okay I have a first aide in my tote." I rambled in my tote and noticed my glasses broke. "Dang it." I pulled them out watching the arm fall off and looking at the shattered lens. " I'll buy you new ones." He winced expecting them with me." No it's fine I can just call my dad to tell him-" he took them out of my hand and shoved them in his pocket. "no it's okay plus gives me an excuse to see you again." He bit his lip smiling at me. " oh you want to see me again? Well okay then." I felt like my legs were going to give out

"Okay well bye." He waved and I waved back " bye." I turned around and entered my class later than I've ever had. Jake watched her walk into the classroom smiling to himself. He was skipping in his head like a little boy and walked back to the boys who were still kicking around the soccer ball on the grass. " hyung where did you go?" Sunoo asked adding jake back into the game by sending him the ball. " Sunoo didn't you see he was talking to a girl." Sunghoon said wiggling his eyebrows at jake. " well he sorta ran into her he was just being polite." Jake went behind sunghoon and kicked the ball between his legs causing him to falter a little. " Or he was getting himself a date for the party coming up." Jay kicked the ball causing it to intercept. Jake walked to heeseung putting his arm around him. " I already told you guys I'm not going to that party and plus y/n not like those other girls I talked to in the past she's sweet and caring." The boys ohhhed " oh so her names is y/n huh." Jay poked . " I have class with her she sits in the front, she's really smart." Sunoo picked up the ball running to where the boys were circled

" Yeah she is… I was thinking about asking her on a date." They gasped. " Jake Sim going on a date Woah." Jake felt his ears turn read as he continued to tell his plan to his brothers. " Go for it dude." Heeseung said, patting him on the shoulder. " All non classes end at 3 so you can wait for her then drop the question." Jake beamed today would be jake sim history. The first time jake will ask a girl out and actually care if she says no.

[possibilistfanfiction]

This might be an out of left field question and I hope it’s not rude. I have this friend who uses they/them pronouns. And I’ve been thinking lately whether or not it’s okay that I say guy and dude. In the context of if I’m hanging out with my friend and they are with a group of people I’ll be like “hey guys…” in greeting or addressing the whole group. guys in the plural sense of multiple people of multiple genders/identities. And with dude is always as an exclamation like “holy shit, dude, guess what”. But I know obviously both guy and dude are historically masculine terms. I’ve tried to stop saying hey guys but sometimes it slips out, I’ve used it my whole life. Is it bad to say that? Like do you think it’s offensive? Idk I know I should probably ask my friend but I don’t want to upset them in case it is a sensitive topic and it’s easier to ask a stranger online lol

as far as it goes personally w your friend, i would just ask if it’s ok to bring up ur question, & then if u get the go-ahead, you can definitely ask

in general i think all of this language policing by mostly neoliberal ppl is Beyond stupid. if a single person in my life doesn’t like a “gendered” term, then that’s fine, it’s easy to respect that. but overall words are what we make of them w the people we know; language is a social contract & it is always already about intent. sometimes our intent is fucked, sometimes our impact isn’t what we intended, ofc as with all things. but i guarantee ur friends don’t think if you say ‘dude’ or ‘guys’ that you’re screaming like I SEE YOU AS A CIS MAN. i promise they don’t unless ur a supremely shitty person, which i can tell ur not! to me cis men in positions of power saying ‘ladies’ (esp in sports) is weird & gross but like… there’s a difference there bc that IS saying ‘i see you all as a v particular kind of Cis Woman).

in my own world, i say dude sometimes to my wife, has nothing to do w me respecting her gender as a cis woman or not. i know she doesn’t care at all. i say girlies all the time bc to me pop girlie is a very important identity shared w friends, this covers a Span of genders & also my dog.

i also think it’s weird (not you specifically at all, just ppl are so prone to this) to think that ppl who use they/them pronouns hate all gendered terms. i can’t fucking stand pronouns, i think they’re so limited, so for me other terms i like are much more important in how i vibe in the world, how i see myself & what my lived experience has shaped & will continue to shape. i’m an eldest daughter (iykyk the ~trauma~ lol), i’m a sister, i’m a wife & a mom. i’m a dyke & somewhere in the soft butch realm. i genuinely don’t feel limited by those, & i also don’t like the term non-binary for myself, & i don’t align w being trans bc i rly don’t feel trans myself. i feel vaguely not-cis in that i want gender affirming care & im not a Cis Woman, but i’m also not-Not a woman.

so i would say like. imo saying ‘guys’ is rly mostly fine in general conversation. if ur worried abt being respectful to ur friend, u can ask if any of those “gendered” terms bother them, but otherwise i think language policing is just a weird neoliberal way of putting things into boxes to uphold the state 💁 there are far more serious & important things we can be doing to support our gender expansive buddies than deeply worrying about ‘dude’ overall, yknow?

[nothorses]

If you grow up in a religion other than Christianity you’ll probably be a lot more aware of Christian influences on the wider culture because you’ll be exposed to that religion’s worldview firsthand. I was raised atheist in America and learning about various religions later in life I’ve been shocked how many Christian assumptions I internalized. But cultural Christian discourse often veers into the idea that atheists have full access to Christian privilege which is some serious BS.

Spending time in a different religion can absolutely make those things easier for someone to notice, but the thing is that you really can't make assumptions about how aware a person actually is based on their beliefs, or their family's beliefs.

I've seen people say that atheists as a whole are "culturally christian", but atheists can be Jewish, they can come from other religious backgrounds, and they can come from other cultural backgrounds.

I've seen people qualify that as "ex-christian atheists", but "ex-christian" doesn't mean anything other than that you were, at some point, christian. You could have also spent time in another religion, or come from a different culture.

I've seen people qualify it as "atheists who were raised christian"; what about atheists who were raised christian and another religion? What about atheists who also spent time in another religion?

And even if you were to qualify it as just, like, "people who have only ever been atheist and/or christian"- what about folks who've spent time with other influences?

Even if you were trying to identify specifically people who have never had any other cultural or religious influences: those people can still be just as aware of those things than folks who did have those outside influences.

This assumption that atheists are inherently more susceptible to "christian culture" has roots in two historically anti-atheist ideas:

Atheists have no morality of their own, and are inherently more likely to do Bad Things. They must be guided by religious (usually christian) people.

Atheists lack any kind of tangible ideas or beliefs of their own, and are therefore easier to convert.

Both of these ideas see atheism as a kind of "absence", rather than the presence of unique or valuable ideas.

I grew up atheist, and I can absolutely attest to the fact that this is something that very tangibly shaped the way I think about the world. Theese are ideas or attributes aren't exclusive to this upbringing, but just for example:

Death is not a looming fearful, taboo, miserable thing in my family; it's a natural and complete end to someone's life, and we discuss it pretty openly. Our memorials are a nostalgic celebration of that person's life.

I realized a lot of social "rules" were determined by Christian morality, and decided to build my own internal system of morality based on what I believed to be fundamentally important- which lead me to being interrogating and thinking deeply about everything I believed, and why.

I realized life was random & meaningless when I was very young, and decided this meant that my "purpose" was just a goal I got to make for myself, and change whenever I wanted to.

I decided that the most sensible trajectory was to just try to be happy- which means being the best version of yourself, in the best version of your community. Which means putting in the work to make that happen.

These are ideas people can absolutely develop through other cultures and beliefs, and they don't come with atheism for everyone, either; atheism just happened to be the reason for me. Just like another religion making someone more aware of christian hegemony doesn't mean it needs to be the reason for everyone.

[moiravim]

Roughen up Part 2: Friends

Roughen up Masterlist

Marlene McKinnon

I sit with Lily and Mary in our dorm. We're getting ready to sneak into the Slytherin's party tonight. Usually people don't mind. The only people who aren't invited are the marauders, but that's no surprise.

I chose a bright red dress. Not because I'm in gryffindor, but because I like the colour. It matches my red lipstick and my bright red eyeshadow.

The dress is short and form-fitting. Some may say I dress for the guys, but in reality I'm dressing for the girls.

I've known I'm gay since first year when I grew a crush on my best friend, Mary. She told me she was straight and not into me. So I moved on.

Sometimes moving on is wearing a hot dress and going to a Slytherin party. I quite like the Slytherins. They get picked on a lot by the other houses.

But the Slytherins always throw the best parties. Who knows where they get all these drinks, and how they don't get caught. But it always works.

The only Slytherin I really know is Sirius' sister. And even I know little about her. Noone does. I don't think Sirius even knows her.

"Hurry up!", I hear Lily call, breaking me from my thoughts. I put my brush onto my vanity and leave towards the door.

"I'm ready. Let's go", I respond. Mary is wearing a pink dress, and Lily in green. They both look great.

I'm ready for this party. I'm ready to get away from Lily and Mary. They'll never understand me, and they'll never understand what it's like to be gay.

They both have multiple options for who they can date. Sirius is likes Mary, along with another Ravenclaw in our year. And don't get me started on Lily... Snape and James are both obsessed with her.

I'll never find a girl in this school who would love me. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier in a muggle school.

That's when I remember how homophobic muggles are. Possibly even more so than wizards and witches.

I just wish things were easier. I wish I could find someone else like me. Someone to love.

Remus Lupin

Sirius and James just got back to our dorm. I close the book I was reading and sit up. I look at Sirius in the eyes to see tears filling them.

I know it's wrong to say, but he just looks so beautiful like this. He always looks beautiful.

Liking Sirius is my biggest secret. I'll be in my grave before I tell anyone about it. About him.

For now, all I can do is make him happy as a friend.

I pat the spot next to my bed, motioning Sirius to sit next to me. He does.

"What's wrong, padfoot?", I ask as I rub his back with the palm of my hand. He looks at the floor while he responds.

"It's my sister. She's being... A bitch". I know she's done nothing, but I don't want to upset him more.

"What did she do? Is everything okay?", I ask while I draw shaped on his back. He looks up at me for a moment before looking back down.

"Nothing, really. She just... I don't know. I feel like she's not the person I thought she was. I feel like... She's becoming our parents, and I can't do anything about it", he vents so me. I nod understandingly.

"I think you can do something about it. I think you should talk to her. Clear things up. You don't have to, of course", I recommend. This time he nods.

He doesn't say anything after that. He stands up and goes to his own bed. I wish he'd just stay here for a little longer.

I think I love him. I like him more than I've ever liked anyone else.

But he can't know that. I'm his best friend. I love being his best friend. I push down all the thoughts of him being more than a friend, because all they are is false hope. Sirius Black is false hope.

Pandora Rosier

I sit in the library by myself. It's pretty empty in here for a Friday night. I heard some Slytherins talking about going to a party, that must be why.

I'm trying to do my potions homework, but I just can't focus. I thought the library would have less distractions. It doesn't.

There's one other girl in the library. A slytherin who's in my year.

My brother was supposed to come help, but he's probably being dragged around the place by his boyfriend, Bartemius Crouch jr.

The two of them are chaotic together. Evan makes Barty more confident and Barty makes Evan loosen up a bit. You'd think that's a good thing, but it really isn't. Barty gets into trouble because of his confidence, and Evan already has no motivation.

In my opinion, my brother should be focusing more on school. The only good part of their relationship is how happy they make eachother. So I geuss it isn't all bad.

I'm getting distracted again. I really need help with this.

Maybe I should just quit. I don't want to ask the random Slytherin for help, but I feel like I need to. So I do. I get up and walk to the table she's sitting at.

"Excuse me? Can you help...? I can't understand this", I explain hopefully.

"Oh. Yes, I can", she says.

She seems surprised that I've asked, but she happily excepts my offer. I guess I had nothing to worry about. I sit in the seat next to her as she makes room on the table for my class work.

She starts to explain it and suddenly everything makes sense.

"Thank you so much. Usually I'm great at potions, but for some reason I got mixed up with today's lesson", I say.

She nods and responds, "of course. You can ask for my help anytime. I'm almost always in the library from three to five".

I leave the library with a smile on my face and the feeling that I may have made a new friend.

A/N: hey!! Chapter 2 came out sooner than expected. This is because I got ahead on school work and had extra free time. I may not be able to write the next chapter until Sunday so don't get your hopes up!! Sorry, hope you enjoy. You can leave any requests, I may use them.

@jegulusposts @thestarslittleking @doingyourmom069

[eclairfair98]

I just wanted to say I’ve kept up with your fic rather religiously and it’s one of my absolute favorites to the point where I refused to read the final chapter until I re-read the whole thing. What a beautiful story you created. You have a gift.

Hii, marisatomay, I’d like to start off by apologising for how long it took me to get around to answering your ask 🙈❤️ (was trying to figure out what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it, sorry X’D), and thanking you for all your love and support!! 👐🏼🌻 This fic’s the first thing I’ve written written since my 12th grade grammar exam (I think I wrote a 500-word picture-composition on a black-and-white photo of two kids playing in the rain, if I’m not mistaken 😂), and many drafts later, it’s still riddled with little-big mistakes (am planning on doing a final round of edits to flesh out/improve some of the things I wanna work on in the earlier chapters, before I bid farewell to these characters for good 🤞🏼). Which is why, I’m so grateful and pleased that you’d consider my work to be one of your favourites :’) Really, you’re too kind, thank you so much!! ❤️🫂

Now, I must confess, that I do have some residual guilt with regards to the story 🙈 I wrote omegaverse ‘cause I wanted to explore the socio-cultural implications of this made-up biology (a teeny-tiny difference in a chromosome somewhere in an individual’s genotype, that results in a difference in their phenotype), that ends up determining a person’s place in society (a reflection of our world, only much darker, with explicitly discriminative policies/laws still in place in the 21st century)? I set out to tell a story about two people who grow up wanting more or less the same things (to serve their country, and honour their fathers’ legacies — whatever that means to them, individually), who were then offered vastly different opportunities by their world. And while Tom and Pete started their journey with us on a very unequal footing, I’d promised myself that they’d end it, as equals. I worked to that end with the constitutional amendment, and universal suffrage, and the honest conversation they had about the state of their marriage. But somewhere along the way, I realised that their past really does cast long shadows, that I can’t resolve all of their issues, tie everything up in a neat little bow at the end. And it occurred to me, that I had to be okay with that.

There’s a book called Sapiens, in which the author talks about how (I’m paraphrasing here) everything that isn’t a scientifically-proven fact, is a myth. How the sharing of collective myths (capitalism, money, nation, God), has helped shape the foundations of human civilisation. And that’s something something that really stuck with me, ‘cause if that’s true, then maybe we owe it to ourselves, to the world, to tell the right stories, to believe in the right myths? I’m not saying that every story should have a moral or a message (‘cause that’s just not true; people write to have fun, and what can be more justified than making yourself feel good with a creative outlet that also gives other people joy?) I guess, I’m just saying that I would’ve liked to tell a story with a better, more definitive message? My Tom and Pete are far from perfect people, and their relationship is flawed, as well (in some ways, all of their problems are present from the very beginning). The optimism they have for their future, doesn’t match up to their reality. Fate leads them down different roads, and although their intentions are pure, they do end up hurting the people they love. They’re not soulmates. They’re not ‘made for each other’. There’s a chance that they’d have had happier ‘easier’ lives with different partners. That they wouldn’t have made the same choices had their circumstances been different. But, they’re both inherently good people who keep trying to work on their relationship, to find common ground. To choose love and hope. To be better for each other. And I guess, therein lies their (and my own) saving grace… :’) ❤️

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

It might be because of Rise, But What the heck is going with the tmnt fandom? Like where is all this hate coming from in reference to be people shipping themselves with the turtles? Like i could understand if it was about them Actually being Turtles but its not. its about aging them up, its about TMNT x Reader in any form of relationship like not even just smut and i don't understand it. I was 10 when the 2007 movie came out and i INSTANTLY fell in love with Ralph, 15 when when 2012 show came out and i shipped myself so hard with Leo Like the fanfics that I've read would make anyone blush. Now that I'm older I may not be as much of fangirl over them but like i still like reading an ''X Reader" from time to time but I've been seeing so much hate for even thinking about aging them up. Like if this is something you've grown up with you're going to age them up and see how they would live life at an older age. Besides we have multiple iterations of the Turtles as Adults sooo I just thought you might know why or could give some kind of explanation of where this distain is coming from. I feel like its because the Rise Turtles are the youngest acting iteration we've seen so far. But as a fandom elder I'm kind of confused.

what in the tarnation...

That was quite a read this morning xD

First of all, I dunno why I would have an answer, to be honest. I'm basically just a 30 years something goblin that stays in her corner and keep on doing her things without attracting drama and hate 🤷‍♀️ I got no time and energy for that.

Second, people will be people. Simple as that. Not everyone has the same tastes. Not everyone will like the same things. For instances, I'm personally not a huge fan of nsfw content for the other iterations of TMNT - I wouldn't touch Rise with a 10 feet pole in regards to creating nsfw content. The Bayverse ones are the only ones because they appeal to my creativity. They look good. And frankly it's easier to imagine that iteration to be close to my age (personally, I HC Donnie to be my age when I write and draw stuff about him....).

I have indeed seen a lot of discourse about that matter on some corners of the internet. Both sides makes sense, but what matters most in the end is that as long as no one hurts anyone, it's all fine and dandy. Heck, we are responsible for our own internet experience. That's something a loooooot of people tend to forget, hence why they bring down the so called "hammer of justice" on others and try to control what they post about.

Bullshit on that. Do what makes you happy.

Do the stuff for you. Don't harm minors. And especially don't push your content to people who may be unwilling to accept it. As long as people are not writing and/or drawing the gang as minors, then I don't see the issue.

I've had my fair share of fandom bullshit. I now know that this experience is my own, I can shape it however I want, and I can share it however I want. People who happen to like my stuff are only a added bonus.

[arcstral]

The first friend she had made upon enrolling here stood before her, blue hair and eyes beautiful as the sky above them, a kind smile that was nostalgic yet unique to him alone. Despite their first meeting many moons ago being a little awkward at first, his welcoming nature made forging a bond much easier.

What she wished to convey today was gratefulness for that day but most importantly to celebrate that he exists in this lovely world. "Today's a special day, Marth. I brought two little gifts to celebrate."

She trailed closer to the archanean, a curve forming on her lips as their distance was cut short. In silence she placed a small box in one of his palms the contents inside were a pair of earrings with a simple design, golden with a small blue gem incrusted in them. Alear had noticed his ears were pierced, although the design wasn't close to what she had seen him wear the color of the gemstone reminded her of his eyes.

On the other box that she held as to not busy his hands rested a necklace, a golden chain with a charm at the center of it shaped like the falchion incrusted in the place were the red gem of the sword would be rested one mimicking her hair color. This gift was complicated to find someone capable of making it but she was glad it was able to be completed. "I am so happy to know you and the bond we have, you were the first to welcome me when i joined the academy, that day is special to me. It's truly an honor to stand by your side as friends, now and always."

"Your life is precious to those who love you so i wanted to tell you... happy birthday Marth!"

To enter into another year of life spent beside countless loved ones and allies is bliss enough for the Altean king. Which is to say, Marth does not often desire for material possessions, either on the day of his birth or any other. His interest is captivated by the gifts already planted into his hand; an Archanea unshackled by conflict, the daily pleasures of life attainable due to a world at peace, and - last but not least - the priceless bonds regarded as his treasures. Those maintained from old as well as those newly forged.

"A special day, you say? Hah. I am truly happy that you think so. To me, it is not that special when compared to every day I spend in enjoyment of life." Cerulean gaze sparkles warmly, pleased and amused in equal measures by the Elyosian woman who numbers among said bonds. Her honesty easily met with his own.

But his attention soon switches tacks, awe occupying a wonder-filled face as he is presented with two gifts. A fashionable pair of earrings alongside a resplendent necklace, one evocative of his emblematic blue color and another of Falchion itself. Their quality is easily discerned even by one who knows mandates and laws better than precious metals and gemstones. The heart he expresses is deeply touched and above all sincere: "Goodness, I am at a true loss for words! They are beautiful gifts and your consideration for me has gone to lengths I scarcely deserve."

Her regard alone would have been enough to make this a shining occasion. Not for the first time he finds the aura surrounding Alear to be curious. Though earnest, thoughtful, and undoubtedly kind, from their first meeting across the monastery grounds he could sense a certain way about her deeper than all those things - just as he'd observed of the male Alear. A phantom familiarity, perhaps; as one might judge of a tune or cuisine reminiscent of childhood.

And, naturally, what is familiar to Marth is comfortable.

He smiles, gratitude mingling with friendliness, an expression tenderly warm. "You have my thanks, Alear, for gifts and sentiments both. Let today not merely be a celebration of myself, but also that of our friendship. I would like to imagine us always at the sides of one another. . .as welcome allies."

[whumping-in-the-wings]

Well, at long last, the moment I’ve been waiting for has arrived. It’s time to introduce you all to one of this story’s central characters, and possibly one of the most personally important characters I’ve ever allowed myself to write. This was actually a more recent idea that only started to take shape a few weeks ago, but it quickly grew into something I couldn’t stop and didn’t want to. If I hadn’t found this community, I honestly don’t think I would ever have written anything like this. I’ll be reblogging this post with a longer author’s note that will explain a little more, but for now, let’s just get to it, shall we?

CW: bruises, mentions of injury, caretaker POV

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @finaldreams1106, @redwingedwhump, @whumpy-catfish (and as always, let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the list!)

Traces: Part Six

Previous | Masterlist | Next

“…for my Robin is to the greenwood gone, but he loves me, aye, he does!”

The final note cracked as harshly as a dropped eggshell, and the mule flicked an ear back in annoyance. Cyra Swann reached forward and patted the creature’s shoulder by way of apology. “Sorry, old girl. I’ve a voice no softer than yours, it seems.”

If there had been anyone but the mule to hear her, Cyra wouldn’t have bothered with the singing. From her voice to her work-callused hands, everything about her was rough, too rough for a sweet thing like a song. But the sun was nearly set now, and the road to Aurenside Manor was deserted. A dark, empty road was a dangerous road, and the best way Cyra had found to deal with danger was to make your presence known to it and bid it come closer if it dared. She’d started out as she always did when she was on her way back from a fair, loudly cursing the tanner and the blacksmith for the high prices they charged on leather and horseshoes and all the other things a stablemaster had need of. But even her plentiful supply of insults had run out half a mile back, so a song it was for the rest of the journey.

To the relief of both her voice and the mule’s ears, however, they had not much farther to go, and it was only a few minutes more before the familiar shape of Aurenside Manor loomed in front of them. There was no challenge called as Cyra turned the mule onto the path that led to the gatehouse, and the gate itself had been left standing open. “No guard again,” Cyra scoffed. “And it’s not because they expected me back, either, it’s because there’s ale flowing in the great hall. Couldn’t ask a kinder welcome, if I were a thief. No doubt Duncan and the boys will be in there wetting their gullets too, and they’ll have left the chores undone, as like as not. I might be only the stablemaster, old girl, but this whole damned place goes to pieces when I’m gone, and it’s all the lordling’s fault, as most things are.”

She patted the mule again, ducking low over the animal’s back as they passed through the gate. “What say you, then? Is our Sir Aubrey more stupid than spoiled, or the other way round? And which is it worse to be, I wonder?”

The mule never minded her fault-finding, and Cyra always had plenty to find fault with, so she kept up a steady stream of it until they’d reached the stable door. Then it was time to turn her focus to the tricky business of dismounting.

She knew the steps by heart now, though that hardly made it easier to perform them. The strong oak cane she’d carried across her lap went down first, and she dug the tip of it into the ground as she leaned low over the mule’s neck. It took no little effort and brought no little pain to swing one leg over the mule’s back and kick the other free of the stirrup, and then there was the drop to the ground, her teeth gritting at the familiar sharp protest that shot through her hips as she landed. She let the cane take most of her weight for a moment, waiting for the painful twinge to ebb again and making sure her feet, inward-turned as they were, had found a solid purchase on the ground.

“There’s that, then,” she told the mule as soon as she felt steady again, reaching for the halter and setting off toward the stable at a slower pace than was typical for her. Ordinarily, except for the more difficult tasks like dismounting, she hardly needed the cane and carried it only as a precaution. But the long ride had settled a worse-than-usual soreness into her legs tonight, and there was no one about to see her, so she let herself lean on the long oak staff more heavily than she otherwise would have.

For once the stable door appeared to have been securely latched- which wouldn’t spare Duncan a tongue-lashing, if he was really off drinking in the great hall as she suspected he was, but improved her mood at least a little. She had to lay the cane against the wall while she lit the heavy iron lantern that hung on a hook at the side of the door; fate, for some foolish reason, had seen fit to give humans only two hands, and hers would be full of lantern and rope, with none left for the cane. But the stable was small and the walls were close, and she’d have plenty to lean on if need be. With the flickering light to show her where to put her feet and the mule plodding patiently behind her, she undid the latch and limped into the familiar dimness of the stable.

It didn’t matter how much she despised Aurenside, or how often its golden-haired lord irritated her: this place, at least, was a haven, and her many rough edges were always somewhat smoothed with the stable’s stones about her. Though the mule was pawing the ground now, anxious for her supper, Cyra paused a moment, as she always did, to close her eyes and breathe in the well-known and well-loved scent of hay and horse and harness.

When she opened them again, there was another pair of eyes staring into them, gleaming dark in the lantern light.

Cyra cursed, dropping the mule’s halter and barely managing to avoid dropping the lantern as well. Only her many years of knowing not to make sudden movements around horses- and how difficult it was for her to make sudden movements at all- kept her from stumbling back in shock. Instead she stood frozen, her heart beating like a rabbit’s, slowly raising the lantern higher to see exactly what she was dealing with.

Her heart jolted all over again when she recognized the shape of a centaur. But the next moment she saw that the beast was staring at her from over one of the sturdy stall doors. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped nearer, sure now that the centaur couldn’t do the same. One of the lantern-beams fell on the creature’s side, on the crimson brand bright against the black-brown coat, and immediately she understood. The tension drained from her body like water from a cracked jug, even as chilling fear changed itself to blazing anger.

“That Aubrey,” she burst out. “That idiot!”

Though she regretted that her stiff hips would not let her stomp around her tasks with any satisfying amount of force, her tongue was as nimble as anyone else’s, and she had never been afraid to put it to use. The centaur was left nearly forgotten in the heated ramble that followed; it was Sir Aubrey who took the full force of the stablemaster’s fury.

“I hope,” Cyra snarled, “that that temper of his sets him afire someday! If it were noble brains that made lordships instead of noble blood, he’d be naught but a beggar and no mistake!” She slammed the lantern down onto its hook, seized the closest brush and all but attacked the mule’s damp sides with it. “Make a name for himself, will he? Make them remember him? Well, he might try going off and dying in some terrible way. Or walling himself up in a cave somewhere for the rest of his days, they’d make a saint of him for that-“

She kept on as she finished caring for the mule, all the while knowing in the back of her mind that she would never have said most of this to Sir Aubrey’s face. She had never feared him- there was little that she truly feared- but she knew as well as anyone in Aurenside how dangerous he could be. Her anger was only ever words. Aubrey’s could be much more, much worse, than that.

Job done and the greater part of her indignation played out, she brushed her hands briskly together and turned back to what had caused that indignation to begin with. The centaur was still watching her, his dark ears pricked forward and his eyes following her every movement.

But not fearfully. Not the way he should have been watching her, given that he’d clearly had the worst of someone’s ill humor if the bruises and cuts littered across his pale human half- and likely the other half, too, though it was too dark to see clearly- were anything to judge by. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t anxious about what she might do next. He was only watching, as if…as if he was trying to understand her.

As if he could understand her.

The idea was so sudden, so surprising, that Cyra’s eyes widened. And then, the next moment, she shook her head, almost laughing at her own foolishness. It didn’t matter how human those eyes looked; there was only emptiness behind them. Everyone knew that. If he hadn’t been a centaur, he would have been no different than one of her horses.

The thought, oddly enough, settled her down a little, soothed the uneasiness she’d been feeling ever since she’d walked in and seen him. She knew horses. She knew nothing better than horses. She could handle this, even if she still intended to give Sir Aubrey Gravesend a piece of her mind for putting her in a position where she had to.

Lifting the heavy lantern again, she stepped close enough to peer at the centaur over the stall door, grateful to see that his hands were bound and there was little chance that he could harm her. “I’ll just put a rein on my temper, then,” she said, more gently than she’d spoken all night. “It looks as though temper’s the last thing you need more of, poor creature.”

A particularly impressive string of bruises traced a line from his left temple down to his right cheekbone, as though someone had struck him across the face with something. A rope, probably, and Duncan even more probably. He had a habit of doing that; she’d taken him to task the first time she caught him doing it to one of her colts. Either the lesson hadn’t stuck, or he’d decided it didn’t apply to a centaur.

With tempers like Duncan’s and Sir Aubrey’s about, this was far from the first time she’d come back to find a horse in need of a gentle touch and a bit of patching up. She continued her inspection with the practiced eye of someone who knew what to look for, clicking her tongue at the apparent lack of food and water, making a low sound of disapproval deep in her throat when she spotted the arrow-wound beneath the brand. Finally, satisfied that she at least knew her own next steps even if Sir Aubrey’s long-term plan for this whim of his remained a mystery, she stepped back a bit, shaking her head.

“It looks as though we’ve given you a rough welcome, and it’s sorry I am about it,” she said. “But I don’t think you’ll give me much trouble. And that means I won’t have to give you much temper, and we ought to get on just fine, you and I.” She turned away to set the lantern down, the thick iron making it too heavy to hold for long. “But I tell you one thing,” she continued, half to herself. “You’re as much as I’ll stand for. If that idiotic piece of arrogance tries to fill up my stable with any more of your kind, I’ll put a stop to it that fast, I promise you that.”

A sharp intake of breath from behind her. A quick step forward. And a voice.

“You can do that?”

This time Cyra did drop the lantern, whirling around far faster than she would have thought herself capable of doing just a moment before. It was her turn to stare into those eyes with her own eyes wide and startled, her lips parted in shock.

“Sweet Judas,” she breathed. “You can speak.”