#most of my sketching is done in my journal…. less stressful

[scryillo]

fear of the sketchbook is the mind killer

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Hello! Long time no see, hope you're doing well! Can I ask for some hcs for Arthur, Merlin and Hans, with their s/o wanting to bond with them by trying out their hobbies? If that makes any sense.

Hi hi! I'm doing good! How about you? I saw the latest chapter update- you are doing amazing! S/o and hobby bonding (RSaT7D) Arthur

Arthur's hobbies are mostly athletic. Sword-fighting, fighting, climbing, strength work-out, learning about new weapons, riding. Not to call someone a one-trick pony but Arthur's interests aren't the most varied. He's aware of this and wishes people would give his hobbies a chance, but he's also the only jock in a group full of nerds, his fate was sealed the minute he joined. He'd more or less resigned himself to practicing these things alone until:

"You want to try it? Really?! You mean it?! Ehem- I mean - Of course. You're going to love it!"

Joy. Pure joy radiates off his face. He's trying very hard to keep it down, but he can't help it! S/o means a lot to him, his hobbies mean a lot to him and now, they're being combined together in the best way!

There's a slight problem though. He's terrified of hurting his s/o. Most of his hobbies involve some pretty intense action. How to go about showing them his hobbies?

Riding it is then! Horse-back riding is a safe option! There's no combat involved, it's a lot of fun, and best of all if they share a horse they can be very close. This dumbass romantic has to be snapped out of his romantic fantasies often, a constant s/o gets used to quickly.

To the surprise of most including Arthur, he's a good teacher! S/o quickly finds themself atop a horse with Arthur holding the bridle until they get used to being up there. Encouragement and praise is constantly lobbed their way as he compliments them for each step forward they take. By the time they get off the horse they are doggedly tired but it's hard to not feel like you've achieved a great deal with the prince making it clear they've done an amazing job.

Be prepared for this to be a bi-weekly thing, if not a daily thing. Arthur's aware of how much strength it takes but his mind is already planning hikes and trails they can ride through together.

100% expect him to do the same with one of their hobbies. This is mutual bonding over different hobbies, whatever s/o is into Arthur wants to try.

Merlin

"You want to learn one of my hobbies? Well, I don't mean to brag, but you're looking at one of the best. I hope you're ready to keep up!"

Sketching, he's talking about sketching.

Merlin has the bad habit of not having a lot of hobbies. Studying magic is something that brings him joy, sure, but studying is studying. Anyone can speak to the stress it can bring even if you enjoy it. The only reason he has sketching as a hobby is because the boy has was hand-drawing each spell scroll before the trio made that printer.

S/o being interested makes his heart soar higher than he wants to admit. Hobbies are a very personal thing, and the fact they want to bond with him doing an activity they know he really likes is doing wonders for Merlin. He is going to show them everything he knows.

Merlin will happily grab his art supplies, some loose paper or a few journals and go to town showing s/o his methods and techniques. He rambles in jargon, showing different techniques and materials. It's sweet, if confusing at times. S/o will have to remind him to slow down, that this is for fun before he turns the bonding into a bonafide lecture on the history of sketching, and an opinion piece on why charcoal is better than pencil work.

He's a little nervous about sharing his journal doodles with them. Personal styles speak volumes of a person. It's one thing to sure pieces he made on purpose, with the purpose to be a sketch. Doodles in journal corners next to notes are personal. But with how eager they are to learn, he can't help but want to show them too.

Hans

Baking and cooking are arguably both his hobbies and his duties when with the group but Hans isn't a flat character - there's other stuff he likes too! Sewing for example is a fun activity for him, and it's practical. Anything with cloth really. Knitting, sewing, the whole range. Few things beat out curling up next to a fire with a freshly made snack and hot tea, with needlework to enjoy.

"Sewing? Liebe you don't have to do that for me, I like to bond with you in other ways too. Oh? Well, if you're sure, why not?"

S/o's interest in his hobbies is a surprise to him. It's not that he thought they were disinterested in that part of of his life; he sews often, they've seen him do it and many nights at home are them curled with a book while he cuddles next to them working on some needlepoint. Wanting to learn though is unexpected because it's not an easy thing to get into. Sewing and all things thread-related can be really tricky to get into simply because of how many times you stab yourself with a damn needle. Knitting? Those needles hurt too. They've seen him cuss a storm or two before at a needlepoint kitten, are they sure they want to do this?

Hans is the best in teaching though, because unlike Arthur who has no chill and Merlin who also has no chill but also lectures, Hans gets that this is a day-to-day thing. Little by little, bit by bit, they will get better at this. And if they want to do something else? That's fine, the fact they tried for him makes his heart beat so much faster. If they stick to it and surprise him with something embroidered he will cry.

He also has a lot of band-aids on stand-by which is appreciated.

Sewing night dates? Sewing night dates.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 17

Living with the Cowell's is going about as well as you'd expected it to go. In other words it's more or less a disaster for your mental health. Which is ironic considering you didn't put this much stress on yourself when you were sure a stalker was watching you.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the stalker didn't own your house and wasn't in your personal space at every turn.

You'd honestly been expecting Little Jo to be the biggest space invader but Dia and Nate were constantly hovering around you. Nate had taken up the other spare room, or rather his room away from home, the minute he heard you'd be staying with the Cowells. He's made it his job drive you to and from work for the past two days and you both take breaks together now closing the store when you do. Then the second you cross the threshold Dia is right by you either asking for some help cooking or rushing you off for hobby time in the sitting room. It's like living in a 1920's story book, minus the extreme prejudice you would've faced.

It's only been two days and you can't find a way to ask for more space. You tried asking to go on a walk earlier and it turned into a partial jog with Nate. You really just need a moment to yourself it's been five or six days since you last had some 'me' time. All your nerves are shot and you are just a few minor inconveniences away from snapping at someone.

And it would not be a smart idea to nap at your boss. Your boss who's been so considerate and helpful offering his support to you through this whole mess of a situation.

Nonetheless you need space and your own clothes. Nate's don't fit you properly and they're uncomfortably itchy against your skin. His detergent is also very smelly, more in the chemical sense than in a bad sense. Though it could be a bad sense considering the headache you've had the past day from the over bearing smell. You know it won't end well for you but you desperately need to go back home and grab your own clothes and maybe even your car.

Having the illusion of more freedom would put you more at ease.

After all it isn't like you want to knowingly put yourself in harms way, you just can't stand the suffocation any longer. That's why you decided to bring it up during dinner, and why you are now sat in the tensest atmosphere this table has possibly ever experienced.

“Installation ain't done yet.” is Big Jo's gruff response.

It's as if that short sentence gave everyone premission to breathe again.

“I'm not planning to stay, I just need my own clothes.” you press.

Nate glances over to you before placing his fork to the side, “Then why do you need your car?”

“I'd just feel more comfortavle if I had it.....y'know instead of just relaying on you for rides.” you gesture around to the table trying to get someone yo come to your defense.

Big Jo pinches the bridge of his nose, it's been a stressful week for him as well. You don't mean to be ungrateful in this scenario but you are Autistic and the routine you've spent months carving out for yourself is being ruined. You are wearing smelly itchy clothes and need to have something you have control over. Not to mention you're the one who actively experienced the home invasion and were sat in a hospital for two days.

Big Jo can deal with you asking to go collect your thing, as far as you're concerned anyway. You're at least entitled to that much.

Dia puts her hand on Jo's arm and he sighs, “Fine, if Nate takes you. You can go to the cottage.”

“Tio, they can't have the car.” Nate is wildly failing his arms and motioning to you as he explains that you're a known flight risk.

Great, nothing's been resolved and you are back to a tense dinner in the Cowell's home.

“Fine I won't take the car, just lemme give it to someone to watch it for the...the what's it gonna be a week?” directing the question to Big Jo who's been handling the security detail for your home.

He gestures in a so-so manner.

“Yea, just lemme give it to someone to watch for the week.” you pause before throwing your hand up, “Because let's face it none of us have any idea where those two are now, and they could've easily tampered with my car.”

That was the worst possible thing to say because the second you finish you sentence the table erupts into chaos. Dia and Little Jo voicing their concerns over you driving your car, Big Jo and Nate all but forbidding you from driving and you trying to find some sort of compromise.

“What if we had it towed to Whistle's? Nate takes me there after work and we make sure nothing's wrong with my car.” looking around the table at the mixed reactions before you.

“I'll call Lewis for a tow in the morning and you both can go after work.”

“thank you.” you say relieved that you can finally gain back control over your life. Maybe get a little bit of space a long with it.

Everyone calms down and goes back to eating. The air is still so tense you could practically cut it but without your constant stirring it seems to settle. The rest of the night goes by uneventfully, you've changed into some pajamas and are ready to lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours.

The antsy energy you've been building up these past few days have left you without sleep. Tomorrow the hallucinations will probably start up, you wonder if they'll be worse thanks to your healing concussion. Hallucinations aside, your real problem is being alone with your thoughts for the next seven or eight hours.

You have nothing to occupy your mind with and thus nothing to help block out the invasive thoughts.

You'd finished the TAZ graphic novels while you were still at the hospital. The Cowells had taken you straight to their home after you got discharged, so you hadn't been able to grab your switch or any smaller art supplies.

Ultimately knowing that all this was for your safety and benefit you understand them wanting to keep you away from your home. The sight of you attack. Even a supply run could prove dangerous. Try telling that to your restless and bored mind. Constantly feeling like one of the undead wandering around aimlessly with no real purpose has certainly not done anything good for your mental health The lack of stimulation was definitely making it harder to mask and not just explode in  frustration. To just let loose and rage at everything: from the situation to your stalkers, hell even to Jo and yourself. The after the brief flash of rage it would be washed away by the overwhelming guilt you felt about being in this web and dragging everyone around you into it. Whether directly or indirectly.

Safe to say, it is not good to be alone with your thoughts right now.

And it is with that restless energy that your night of staring at the ceiling turns into a morning of staring at the ceiling. Until a knock at your door signals the start of breakfast. A routine you've recently become apart of while staying with the Cowells. Getting ready for the day you make your way to the dining room, not before steadying your nerves and static filled mind with a long and drawn out huff of air.

Not quite cathartic enough to be viewed as a sigh.

And with that you begin you day.

The morning fades into late afternoon and you find yourself in the shop a little before close, just looking through the isles. A vaguely human figure, much too tall to truly be an actual person, had brushed past Nate and into one of the isles. Honestly you're sure it's one of your hallucinations but you still have to double check the isles before you finish locking up the shop. Today had been really slow and you can only recall a handful of patrons throughout the day, though you haven't been with it enough to actually hace much accuracy on that statement.

Nevertheless you are searching for stragglers, thankfully you find none. Really hoping to get out and to Whistle's soon, then home to grab things that'll keep you occupied. Things that are finally yous; actual comfortable clothes, that smell like you too. Eyes blinking in rapid succession at your near giddy nerves.

For once your tic helps you vision, you're able to catch the book laid on its side. Its cover a deep russet nearly matching the shelf in color, you'd have missed it if it weren't for the inverted shapes that pressed themselves into your eyelids almost burning the scenery into your memory. Picking the book up you try to discern where it had come from.

Upon further inspection it appeared to be more of a journal. Half written in English with margins made out it – was that German? Yeah that was definitely German, the Eszetts is way too distinctive for it to be any other language. Poorly drawn out sketches littered several pages as you flip past them. Until you see a familiar but scrathy image. It's of a symbol a circle with an 'x' through it.

As you look at the jagged lines you can't really place where you've seen this symbol before. It's so familiar but the ringing bells do nothing to help you remember where you've seen this symbol. Flipping further in you catch sight of a drawing of a being that is slim and taller than the trees. Wasn't that the figure you'd seen moments before? Right as you were doing you check for customers? You're beginning to think this shop's haunted.

“Hey YN, coast clear?” The sound of Nate's voice stops you from inspecting the book any further.

Placing it back on the shelf and nestling it in between to larger books you turn and head out of the isle.

“Yea, no customers.”

“C'mon then, I don't want to be out all night.”

Rolling your eyes at Nate's exaggeration, Whistle's probably wouldn't take more than an hour tops and you won;t take long gathering your things from the house – you follow Nate out the door.

Waiting close behind him as he locks up. One thing about the attack is you've become hyper aware of your surroundings and are nearly always on high alert now when you're out in the open like this. Luckily in most spaces you had already noted the number of exits and where to find them. Having to plan escape routes ahead of emergencies might not be the healthiest mentality but it's kept you sane throughout this ordeal. Thank you American public school system.

When you get to the auto shop you see a familiar ticcing brunette talking to a group of mechanics as he leans on your car.

“Who the hell is that?” Nate says squinting at Toby who's practically laid out across the hood of your car.

Weird, haven't they met yet? Toby did hang out at the shop for an entire day. Had Nate not noticed him then? What about the picnic? Before you can say anything Nate's already out of the car and shouting something to the group. Most of the men standing around tense up as Nate storms up to them.

But you catch the dead look in Toby's eye, the other is still horribly out of commission. Honestly without your glasses faces blur from so far away but it's undeniable that there isn't a light reflecting in his eye. Nate seems to be directing his lecture to Toby who doesn't appear to do anything. He's like a big old house cat, tired and done with everyone's shit if they aren't actively feeding him.

Sighing you exit the car, your only real thought is defusing your Karen.

You aren't at all surprised when Toby locks onto the movement of you walking towards the group. The man perks right up and lifts himself off your car in one fluid motion. He's so agile, just like a cat. You can't help but smile a bit at the connection automatically reaffirming with yourself that Toby would totally push over a precariously placed glass of water.

“Hey, wh-mrrow-what'd you bring the car in for?” Toby asks side stepping Nate, completely ignoring the older man.

“Huh – oh, yea boss wanted it checked out to make sure it wasn't like tampered with – I guess. Y'know after the accident.” you know the mechanics probably know what happened to you, you do live in a small town after all. Gossip stops for no one. But you do have control over details and talking about the incident and you won't be letting go of that any time soon.

Toby's one good eye darkens as he nods, “Gotcha, well it's fine even had Jess take it for a drive. Drove fine. Fixed that weird clicky thing it did on left turns, you're welcome.”

Hah, during the drive through Franklin Toby lost it after two left turns. He noticed the clicking sound your car would make, oddly only on left turns, and started bitching about it to you. At the time you just thought he was being funny when he'd complained you needed to take it in to the shop to fix that. Guess he wasn't. But what's the point of fixing something so trivial?

You cross your arms and are about to sass Toby about how unnecessary that was when Nate interrupts.

“Well since the car's cleared we'd better go settle the bill with Lewis.”

“No need, no parts to replace plus my free labor.” Toby looks away from Nate and back to you “It w-w-was so sl-o-ow-w so I told the old man we were dating and I'd been wanting to fix up your car.”

Normally you'd protest a friend or anyone giving you free services but since this was on the Cowells' dime you weren't going to burden them anymore.

“That's sweet – really really stupid, but sweet.”

Nate's already moving around you two and motioning towards his car as he says, “Well thank you, now we really need to get going YN. I don't want to be out late.”

You nod to Nate, turning and saying bye to Toby from over your shoulder.

When you suddenly remember, “Wait, hey Tobias can you take care of my car for the week? I know it's probably a weird request, but I'm sorta “grounded” right now and can't drive till the cottage is set up. A little worried the battery will drain from disuse.”

If it weren't for the mask and swollen eye the confused sneer of his would be clear to everyone on the lot. He sputters for a moment before speaking up.

“Ok? I mean like that's valid – whoa – a valid concern...but your car's not that old. But I guess I'll watch it? I don't have Connor so it'll have to stay in the lot tonight, that ok?”

Oh this stupid beautiful boy just gave you an out. Probably not the one he meant to give you but you are taking it and running as fast as you can.

“Or, or, or-”

“No, no, and no. You can't be trusted to not just drive off in the dead of night.” Nate cuts in.

It took a bit of coaxing but after calling the house and getting Dia's blessing you obtained one night to yourself. Really it'd be one night spent at the lodge but it was still better than being a guest in someone else's house for the night, this way you're a guest at the lodge for the night. A little mini vacation if you will. And Toby seemed fine to go with you to the cottage while you packed a bag with your essentials, before you both go back to the lodge.

He even agreed to drop you off at the bookshop in the morning.

“Are you seriously going stir crazy after five days?” he asks as you pull up to the cottage.

“it's more their constant smothering I'm over. I know everyone's worried but I still need my own agency. Y'know?”

“Yea....I do.” he murmurs with a solemn look about him before he exits the car and makes his way to the front door.

Your steps falter as you near the cottage. A few flashing images pass through your mind before you shakily inhale. Fortunately Toby is right beside you squeezing your hand to remind you of his presence. You aren't alone this won't end like Monday night.

Opening the door the house is quiet and just as you had last seen it. Nothing was disrupted, even peeking into the bathroom where you expected a crime scene to be – only a toppled shower curtain and over turned bath mat remained.

It doesn't really feel like your house right now. A fuzzy sensation clouds your thoughts, like your brain is trying to protect you from connecting with this place after your recent trauma. Although you aren't sure how you actually feel there's a strong sense of discontentment.

Noticing how you linger in the threshold of the bathroom Toby gently guides you into your room, all without a word. Leaving you alone in your room to collect your things. You move around at a moderate pace, you aren't drawing this out but you aren't rushing to leave soon either. A handful of shirts, a set of jeans, shorts, and joggers later you are grabbing your switch. Before diving into your art supplies you hear a thud across the hall.

You freeze as if ice water had just been poured onto you keeping you in place.

“Tobias!” you call out not moving.

“Fuck – sorry I acc-ack-accidently kicked your trash can.”

When had he gone to the bathroom?

“Are you ok?” you receive a quick 'yea' in response.

Jittery and in no mood to sit and draw you pick up an embroidery kit you'd been meaning to rip into. Should keep your attention long enough, but maybe you should grab another kit just in case. Bag loaded with enough of your things so you aren't driven mad during your stay – you turn to leave but decide to grab your goat plush as an after thought before leaving your room.

Walking out and into the rest of your house you notice a lack of Toby anywhere. Going towards the front door you spot him as you pass the kitchen. He's messing with your garbage can before he takes out the bag and ties it up.

“Wha' cha doin'?” he's been a bit off since you both arrived but you don;t blame him. Not like you're fairing any better.

“I, I kicked it and a whole bunch of trash came out. So then I had to put it-it all back, but there's a lot here and you aren't gonna be here for a week....I, I ju-just thought it'd be better to tak-take it out now.”

Nodding, you're thankful to have such a good friend looking out for you. It would've sucked to come home to a toxic waste site because you'd left trash in the garbage for three weeks.

You probably just thought it came from the bathroom because of the echo or something. Paranoia's been a pain this past week. Maybe you should look into getting a roommate, they might help.

“They're not that helpful trust me.”

“Wow, did I say that out loud?” Toby nods, “Fuck I am out of it. How are you and Tim doing?” you might be deflecting/ignoring your own issues. But Toby had his own shit going on Monday night and you doubt he's talked to anyone.

“We're fine. Just fucking hate him.” the sharp jerk of his head keys you in that he's very much not fine.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Who are you, my fuck-ing therapist?”

“Fine, wanna bitch then?”

He comes off the defensive like he realizes that he's talking with you right now. His good eye down cast after he relaxes his stance a bit.

You go to grab your kettle, filling it up and placing it down on the stove to warm up.

“Any preference on tea? I've got a few.” it was very much more than a few.

A chair screeches as Toby drags it out to sit down at your small kitchen table. He doesn't respond so you get one of your special blends out. This blend has rose hips which you normally dislike anything scented or flavored with roses but the ginger and cinnamon can normally over power the slightly floral sting of this tea. Plus it's made with the intention of healing the heart and promoting self love. A spell tea of sorts. Toby could probably use a little pick me up, you always did after a fight with a friend. Getting out the honey you ready the tea infuser into the cup waiting for the kettle's whistle.

“So just wanna start talking....or should I ask questions?” you turn to face Toby as you lean against the counter.

He's taken his mask off and placed it on the table, of course you remember his deteriorating face but it still surprises you to see it after a few days of not actually seeing his face. Maybe you'll get used to it and one day won't be so fascinated by his teeth.

“Tim's just a dick who thinks he has a right to act like he's my dad. Li-ike-like I'm twenty-four he doesn't need to constantly question the things I do. He doesn't have any room to talk to me about my mistakes he literally could've fucked staying here up for us....” Toby head had been snapping to the left several times during his rant and it continued as he got very quiet suddenly.

Tim could've messed staying here up? Did he mean here as in Kepler or the lodge? Barclay did have to break up the fight maybe he didn't want any of the trio in but let Toby stay out of concern for his condition.

“Hey I'm sure it wasn't that bad, I could even talk to Barclay to get you unbanned from the lodge.”

He takes the mug you pass him and spoons some honey into it/ It's weird to see half his face drawn into concentration since the other half isn't able to emote yet. Holding the cup in his hands he stares at the swirling steam rising up as you bring your own mug over to the table taking a seat. Not once does he look up at you as you stir in a bit of honey into your own tea.

Toby's neck snaps, “Am I...is it bad that I don't want you to?”

You send him a slightly pitying smile.

“No hun, you're upset. And you're having a totally valid reaction to a falling out.”

Toby rolled his eyes, at least you thin he did. Hard to tell with just the one.

“My therapist would love you. That's the kind of bullshit she tells me like all the time.”

Not knowing what to say to that you just nod as he continues to stare at you.

You both continue to talk, well you continue to let Toby rant about how stupid and dumb Brian and Tim are as you finish your tea. You still don't know the details of the fight but it sounds like the cause was just the last straw between the men and not the actual catalyst. According to Toby the other two tend to baby him or talk over his ideas and suggestions because he's the youngest of the group. Twice Toby mentioned Tim's paranoia and how that was really the cause of the tension between them. And how Brian wasn't any help because he'd always side with Tim to make sure his boyfriend was ok.

Toby was very bitter when talking about Brian's role in this more than Tim's. As if his role of passive bystander just sent Toby over the edge. Which from the way he spoke seemed like it's been dragging on for some time. All of this was painting an even worse picture of the smug asshole. Though you didn't break your silence or series of nods and hums until Toby off handily mentioned Brian getting him in trouble with his therapist by saying he was the one who started the fight.

“He fucking snitched....wait no he lied?!” Toby had to blink a few times before he finally understood what had gotten you so upset.

“Yea I mean it's not that big a deal. I was able to tell Clarise I missed a few days of my meds and she made me set reminders in front of her on the call.”

Apparently Clarise was sure Toby suffered from Bipolar Disorder, he was very flippant when he told you like it wasn't anything big. When you mentioned ADHD he kind of blanked. He got fidgety when you mentioned the symptoms you saw and  nervously told you his medication was working just fine for him. Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable you dropped the topic. Soon it was dark and you needed to leave to make it to the lodge for dinner.

“You sure you want to take the garbage out? What if Chonk is over there?” joking as you lock the door.

“Good point. Trash you live here now.” he dumps the bag onto your lawn and walks towards your kia.

“Toby!”you gasp out, which sounds weird amidst your laughter.

He stops and looks at you his expression more unclear than it's been all evening. Your heart skips a beat as you stare at each other for a moment, your laughter gone now.

“It's weird to hear you say 'Toby'.”

That's all he says before he grabs the bag and carrying it to the side of your house where your bins are.

The conversation in the car is pretty light in comparison to what it has been. Just jokes getting thrown around and sharing the gossip that you'd head in the hospital because nurses' can't keep their mouths shut. Neither of you know any of the characters in the stories but they're still pure gold. Like the man who came in after getting his hand stuck in a cookie jar. Nervous and scared his wife would find out he's been eating the new holistic dog treats. A few stories or more like vents about the auto shop got thrown in. By the time you got to the lodge both of you were in lighter spirits.

Everyone was ecstatic to see you up and about and made an extra spot for you at the table. You didn't miss how Barclay would rise an eyebrow every time you locked eyes. You just roll your eyes and continue eating. When it got time to settle in for the night you were planning to commandeer the couch but Toby offered his room.

More accurately he offered a chance to hang out with Connor which you readily accepted. The rottie was just as excited to see you, bounding over the second you stepped through the door.

“Sigh if only there was a way to see Connor everyday.” you say dramatically whistful as you hold the pup's jowls in your palms.

Toby responds in turn in a drawn out sarcastic monotone “Oh my, how sad your life must be. There's only one solution, marry me. So Connor can finally have the second parent he's always wanted” he ends with a scratch behind the pups right ear.

“I was just gonna kick you and steal your dog.”

He turns to face you, “I can't feel-”

“So if I kicked you in the back of the knee it wouldn't buckle?”

Toby goes silent before conceding to your point. A mumbled “Connor would avenge me.” is heard.

After you two settle down you both hop into bed to try and get some sleep. Toby was holding your switch hostage so you had no choice but to “sleep” now.

You really hoped he changed his sheets from the other day. You'd hate to find out you're laying in milk stained sheets. Pushing those thoughts away as your body finally starts to relax, you can feel when your mind begins to drift into the beginning stages of sleep.

“Tobes, you can crash at my place if you need to.” is the last thing you say before falling into a peaceful slumber.

Toby on the other hand wasn't able to get much sleep at all that night. He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was about to happen. And unlike Tim he didn't think it was because of you, it just had something to do with you. You were too kind to be one of The Operator's proxies, with all the clues of His presence in this town you were one of many red herrings. Looking over to you Toby only hoped you wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire. Not like Lyra did, he doesn't think he could handle something like that. Especially with how shitty Tim's been lately, he's on edge and constantly about to snap. He just needs a break from everything. Maybe then the weight in his stomach would go away.

In the morning Toby's keen to hold up his end of the deal and drive you to work. You buy him breakfast and an iced coffee from Dunkin' and a pup cup for Connor. The three of you eat in your car while you wait for Nate to arrive. When he does you say your goodbyes and head off to start your shift. Promising Toby you'd call once you've been ungrounded.

Nate's face is grim as you approach the shop, you're starting to get used to the cold sweats from these dread bearing encounters. That can't be a good thing.

Did something happen last night? Were the Cowells targeted? Was everyone alright? These thoughts and more swam through your head as Nate motioned for you to follow him into the shop quickly.

He locked the door and pushed you into the back room. His hast doing nothing to settle your fraying nerves as you stumble past the threshold.

“That Rogers kid, how well do you know him?” his eyes dart around the back looking at every shadow as if watching their movements.

“Who's Roger?” you feel out of the loop.

Was Roger one of your assailants? Had the police already found suspects so soon on what little information you had to go on?

With a groan Nate smacked his hand against his face muttering something under his breath.

“Toby, Tobias Rogers how much do you know about him?” his tone is rushed and sharp.

You didn't even know his last name until now. But maybe you had heard it before but it never clicked with you. Honestly you've known each other for a month that's not very long at all. But maybe it's long enough to learn some things?

“...ah not much?”

There's a panicked look in Nate's eyes and he does his best to control his breathing. But it's clear that Nate is either about to hyperventilate or go into an anxiety attack. You wonder what's got him so worked up as he reached into his bag and pulls out a manila folder.

He hands it to you, you can see the water marks left by his sweaty palms.

What on Earth is going on?

[softebye]

how to Invent an Item Step by Step

Brainstorm ideas

The initial step in becoming an inventor and also coming up with a truly special and also useful product is to conceptualize concepts. Or else, you may have an excellent idea yet no understanding of just how to apply it.

Attempt making a list of all the points that interest you. For each task or thing of passion to you, make a list of feasible renovations that might be made in the type of an invention. Make a hefty listing.

Do not rush the brainstorming process. Motivation might not hit you like lightning as well as can call for a few weeks or months of noting concepts before your surprise strikes. Find out is inventhelp good

Decide on a concept

As soon as you've invested a long time considering all feasible choices, select your best idea for an invention Now you'll need to hang around thinking about the details of the job. Attract a few sketches of what you visualize your invention will appear like, and then consider some vital concerns.

What could you add to improve this product? What concerning your invention is so unique that people will feel obliged to bring it into their lives? Why is your invention so wonderful?

Think about modifications that might require to be made. What parts of your invention are unneeded or unnecessary? Exists any way to make it much more efficient or less costly to create?

Take into consideration all facets of your invention consisting of all the required components, and also vital information about just how it works or what it will do. Maintain these solutions as well as suggestions in your journal so you can refer back to them.

Research study your invention.

When you feel confident in your invention and also have made any kind of helpful modifications, research study it to make certain your concept is truly one-of-a-kind. If one more product like yours has already been patented, after that you will not have the ability to manufacture your invention or receive your patent.

Search online for items that match the description of your invention. If you have a name for your product produced already, search this as well to make certain that it is not currently being utilized.

Here, you can look at all licenses and also groups for various other inventions like yours. Obtain a professional patent search is done to verify that there are genuinely no other inventions on the market comparable to your own. This suggests that as soon as you are able, file a patent on your invention so that no one else can copy you.

How to Patenting Your Invention

Develop a detailed document of your invention

Although you don't need to be the initial person to invent your item to obtain a patent, you will certainly still require to maintain a record of your invention including the complete variety of specifications and uses.

Record the process of inventing your product. Document just how you created the idea, what inspired you, the length of time it took, and why you wish to make it. List all the important things you will need to create it, all the feasible parts, and also materials for your invention.

Keep a record of your research revealing that you did not experience any other products on the market that are similar in style to your own and currently have a patent. You need to prove that your invention is special to get approved for a patent.

Consider the commercial sales worth of your invention. There are costs involved in obtaining a patent even if you do not make use of a patent legal representative. Before devoting to these fees, make certain you've tape-recorded the industrial worth as well as possible income based on sales of your invention. This way, you will certainly know that the earning possibility of your product surpasses the amount you will certainly pay in fees.

Develop an informal illustration of your invention. You don't need to have anything fancy produced, but having an exact drawing of your invention may be needed to apply for your patent. If you are not a musician on your own, take into consideration having an artistic good friend or member of the family create the drawing for you.

Think about working with a patent lawyer

Although patent lawyers can be really expensive, their aid can be invaluable. The primary task of a patent attorney is to help obtain you a patent as well as to manage patent infringement.

Patent lawyers can give guidance based on the most recent modifications in patent legislation to make sure you are constantly up-to-date. If your invention is classified under the "technology" category, a patent lawyer can be especially helpful in making sure similar technological developments are not already underway by other companies or organizations. You can also check how to get my invention off the ground

Get a provisionary patent application

A provisional patent application, also called a PPA, shows your invention as being in the procedure of getting a patent This suggests that you will be risk-free from others replicating your idea while your patent application is still being refined.

This action is optional, but can be extremely helpful in conserving you from distress and aggravation should somebody obtain a patent on the same invention as you slightly before you do.

You will certainly have to pay a fee ranging from $65-$ 260 based on business you work for and the product you want to patent.

File for a patent.

As soon as you have arranged all your information on your invention, you can file for a regular patent application or RPA. These are submitted through the USPTO on their site or a workplace if you are located near one. Merely comply with the step-by-step instructions offered on the form and also supply all needed info before sending it in.

How to Making Your Invention a Reality

Create a model

With your patent in the jobs, it is a great time to develop a functioning design of your invention. Do not worry about making it with costly products or going through a comprehensive process, just make a variation of your invention on your own.

You aren't needed to make your prototype out of the very same materials as your invention would certainly be mass-produced in unless it is vital to the development of your product.

If you can't manage to make the prototype by yourself, you can pay a firm to make one for you. This can obtain pretty costly though, so see to it that you always attempt doing it on your own first.

Develop a presentation

With your patent and model in hand, you get on the roadway to success! The following action is making a presentation that covers the bases of your invention. You can utilize this to show to both possible manufacturers and customers, although you might develop little various versions of your presentation for each purpose.

Make certain that your presentation is extremely specialist, whatever method you develop it. You can make a PowerPoint, video clip, or physical presentation-board to show.

Usage lots of beneficial details, layouts, and images. Make certain to cover the specs of your product, make use of, and long-lasting results or benefits.

It is optional, you might choose to employ a graphic developer to put together a stunning presentation for your invention. Making it as visually appealing as possible will certainly motivate the passion of producers and also purchasers alike.

Be sure to have your speaking worked out for the discussion too. It's inadequate to have fantastic representations and also photos, you require to be efficient public speaking. Don't remember notecards, but have a concept (with the aid of notes if required) of every little thing you want to claim as well as the solution to common questions that may be asked.

Also Follow InventHelp Instagram for more details

Existing your invention to a maker

Discover neighborhood producers that create items similar to your own and also attract them to produce your invention for you. You might have to send them an initial letter, to begin with, describing who you are and also what you desire from them.

After you hear back from your letter (general delivery or e-mail), get your discussion all set. You will possibly need to go present your invention to them and also clarify what you desire from their business.

Make certain to leave them with a copy of your presentation and information so that they can examine it also after you have left.

Stress why and exactly how your invention will certainly not just help individuals yet make the maker lots of money. They are business individuals like you as well as wish to know what they get on their end of the deal if they partner with you.

Create your invention

When you get a producer aboard with your invention, start mass-producing it! Although it will possibly be best to start in small batches (your manufacturing company will certainly speak to you about this), you can begin producing your invention in the hundreds or thousands.

Market your invention

You have obtained everything down; your patent, your model, a supplier, and lastly your invention has been mass-produced. Find methods to advertise it to get the optimum selling capacity.

Consult with local company owners and shop managers to review selling your item with them. You can reveal your discussion to clarify why doing so is a great choice for their company along with helping a regional entrepreneur.

Create ads for your invention. Invest the help of a local visuals developer to produce pictures and video clips that have individuals pleading to get your product!

Get the word out among your family and friends. Getting the people you're closest to onboard with your idea will aid to hear of your invention out as well as about into brand-new areas and populaces. Hold regional information sessions and booths and business meetings and also business fairs. Check into the cost of having a booth to advertise your item at conventions near you. It helps to make a thorough illustration of the item.

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

Journal #3

Prev | Next

Had a bad day today to be completely honest.

I took my sleeping aids way too late the night before so I was too exhausted to do much more than draw and watch videos today. So, didn’t earn anything today.

I’ve taken them at 10pm tonight rather than 2am, so...that should help I hope lol.

On the flipside, though, I did get a short animatic done as well as a lot of sketches.

I redesigned Laraza, from my Avenue story (which I don’t think I’ve talked much about on this blog but I will eventually). Long story short, she’s a demigoddess of justice gone rogue based on kitsune mythology.

I also drew Zee, a talking cheetah and Laraza’s adopted son.

Dinner with mother was delayed again due to rain.

I am going to try to start waking up a bit earlier and going to the YMCA before work. Working out will be hard on me because of my dysphoria, however, my chronic back pain is really too difficult to bear anymore and I can’t just be inactive every day aside from working, where the most activity I get is walking between a restaurant, my car, and a house. I think getting a sports bra and a full-body bathing suit will help me alleviate that stress, though. So, once I have that spare money, I’m going to do that.

I’m going to start plotting my meals in advance. I admit I’m a little miffed as to how I’m going to fulfill protein goals. My MyFitnessPal app says I should be eating 50% carbs, 30% fats, and 20% protein. As it stands, my eating habits tend to average out to about 60% carbs, 30% fats, and 10% proteins... Or less proteins. The fact is, protein-rich foods just seem to cost a lot more. I mean, that’s meat right?

[...]

A search has turned up that while meats do have the most protein, nuts and dairy products do as well. Hmm. I may have to start eating more eggs and I can start buying peanuts at the store.

I think I will try planning my food a week in advance so that I do not have days where I slip and get something outrageously high in calories because I’m hungry and can’t decide on what to eat quickly.

Not much to report today. I missed yesterday. Don’t totally remember what all happened yesterday. Probably going to go lay down now so I’ll leave this one here.

[fiction-in-my-blood]

The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing. 

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident. 

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal. 

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer. 

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her. 

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see. 

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets. 

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer. 

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man. 

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her. 

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces. 

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance. 

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances. 

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical. 

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door. 

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets. 

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her. 

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her. 

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him. 

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited. 

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone. 

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head. 

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there. 

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body. 

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it. 

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances. 

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her. 

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other. 

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting. 

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her. 

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her. 

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement. 

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked. 

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn’t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half. 

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable. 

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do. 

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder. 

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 3)

Never Apologising For Our Wild 2019:

Fractured by MrsRen - M, 3 chapters - She's writhing on the floor, spitting in a Bellatrix Lestrange's face, when it happens. Hermione Granger's mind fractures amidst the torture, and when she wakes, friends and family find that she is not who she used to be. In the middle of a war, Hermione thinks she's exactly who she needs to be.

Ninety-Three Percent Stardust by otterlyardent - G, one-shot -  Often, when a person falls for someone, they can’t remember the exact moment it all changed. But that wasn’t the case for Draco Malfoy. The moment had forever been emblazoned in his memory.

Dear Shakespeare by msmerlin - M, 3 chapters - When the fates bring together two opposites, will the love they have be able to overcome the years of obstacles that follow? Seventeen years of relationships ups and downs told through a series of vignettes.

Coiled, Falling by bionically - not rated, one-shot - She's locked in a tower when he finds her, bewitched and imprisoned.

Absinthe by TheMourningMadam - E, one-shot - Hermione becomes ensnared by Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that he is a taken man.

Magical To You by fandomfairytales - T, one-shot - based on the Nikita Gill poem/prompt: she would rather be magical to you, than belong to you.Follows Draco coming to understand such a concept and how it applies to one Hermione Granger."Hermione was in his kitchen, her cheeks rosy, the heat of the ovens toasting the air, humming along with the house elves as they worked; Completely out of her element and making herself at home at the breakfast bar, she was an utter paradox, all Draco could do was stare. It would have been less surprising to find a unicorn or some other rare magical creature there… Later, he would wonder if perhaps she was one, in a class all her own."

My Poetry by mcal - T, one-shot -  Draco has been looking forward to this quiet moment with Hermione all week. A short stand alone written for the DFW Nikita Poem Challenge. Dramione. EWE  

The Way They Leave by tofadeawayagain - T, one-shot - After leaving an emotionally abusive long-term relationship with Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger struggles to remember how to be herself once again. An experiment/sketch of the state of mind caused by emotional abuse and the healing process.

Show Me Your Soul by Disenchantedglow - T, one-shot - Show me The most damaged Parts of your soul, And I will show you How it still shines like gold -Nikita Gill

Demons by sweetmusings - T, one-shot - Hermione is far from okay. Can she be saved before she slips under? Furthermore, does she want to be? Inspired by Nikita Gill's 'Monsters'.

Fixing Damaged Souls by LissaDream - G, one-shot - Response to the Never Apologizing For Our Wild challenge held by Dramione Fanfiction Writer's FB group.

Wildfire by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - They said she was fire incarnate. And the smallest sliver of hope was kept alive by the spark of a borrowed ember she had implanted in his soul. A Dramione one-shot inspired by "Wild Embers" by Nikita Gill.

Tough Love by BiscuitsForPotter - M, 4 chapters - Three bad relationships. Two times her heart is broken. One time it grows stronger. Hermione Granger always seems to choose the wrong men to date.

The Devourer by ravenslight - M, one-shot - Darkness breeds darkness. In the aftermath of the war and amidst Voldemort’s reign, two depraved souls find solace in the dance of their demons.

Burning Skies by PartyLines - T, one-shot -  Sometimes a change of heart comes just a little too late. Or: Hermione's late night letters to someone.

When You Are Ashes Remember This by perilous_circumstance - M, one-shot - The Ministry has decreed therapy for the returning 8th years & it’s going just about as well as one would expect.

Under and of the Stars by Lilian_Silver - T, one-shot - Hermione is in her 8th Year, attending a party in the Ravenclaw common room. It would be a lovely night of letting loose for once in her life, if not for the presence of a certain Slytherin for whom she has been harboring some very confused feelings.

Majestic Lionesses, Vibrant Birds, and Eight Billion Human Beings by Felgia_Starr - M, one-shot - Draco tries to prove to Hermione that soulmates are real but ends up showing her the world instead.

Broken by CourtingInsanity - M, one-shot - She is a broken thing under the psychopathic torture of his crazy aunt. As he watches, Draco reflects on the things he has fixed in his young life, and wonders at the possibility of mending Granger.

Spark Hearts by Abroma - E, one-shot - He doesn't ask her to stay; he never does. She wouldn't, anyway.    

Scars by LadyKenz347 - not rated, one-shot - For DFW'S: Never Apologizing For Our Wild ChallengeInspired by Nikita Gills "Scars

Pretty in White by MrsMast - G, one-shot - Today is Hermione and Draco’s wedding day. Will love bloom?

DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020:

A House in the Country by BoredRavenvlaw620 - T, WIP -“That’s it, just no. I’ve done my duty to the Wizarding world. I gave up my childhood, I gave up my dreams, and for what… a tiny cubicle in which I put the Ministry stamp on endless permits. No more. I quit. Effective immediately. I think you’ll find I have ample vacation saved up. I’ll owl human resources on where they can send my check.”She spent her childhood fighting a war she didn't start. Now life is passing her by. What will she find when she makes choices not based off expectation?

Love of My Life by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - A surprising revelation at their anniversary party sends Hermione reeling.

Opposites Attract by HollyBrianne - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione share a hotel room and take turns having issues with the other's sleepwear.

Caught Red-Handed by ruthy4vrsmoaked - E, one-shot - During a special kind of school reunion, Draco Malfoy catches Hermione Granger while she's reading an erotic romance novel.

Between the Trees by NuclearNik - M, WIP - When the tides of war change quickly, Draco makes a split-second decision and steals the freedom of the only person he still cares about, desperate to protect them.Hermione Granger becomes prisoner to a reluctant captor, locked away in the ruins of the one place she'd ever truly felt at home.Trust does not come easy for either of them.

Better Late Than Never by niffizzle - M, one-shot - As if the anxiety leading up to his mother's trial wasn't already bad enough, it deepens once the Wizengamot denies Draco's request to temporarily leave Hogwarts to attend. His life only gets more frustrating when the aftermath of a Quidditch accident forces him to interact with the one witch he's been ignoring all year — stirring the question of why she was present at the match in the first place. 

Simple Words by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead) - M, one-shot - It was easy to figure him out all over again.

oh god, i think i'm falling in love with you again by Felgia_Starr - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are forced to share a bed when there's miscommunication within the hotel staff and the hotel is fully-booked. This is a terrible idea because they both blame each other for their breakup and have been throwing passive aggressive remarks towards the other ever since they arrived in the hotel. Not to mention, they're still kind of madly in love with each other.

To Return by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Returning to Hogwarts was the hardest thing that Hermione had ever done, but the only person it was harder for is Draco. Friendship or more can bloom in the darkest of hours. Forgiveness is not one action, but many.

Future Imperfect by LightofEvolution - T, one-shot -  Weird things can happen in the Department of Mysteries. And Hermione and her partner are about to find out how weird exactly. Or maybe not weird - but foreshadowing?

Ten Months by grace_lou_freebush - T, one-shot -   While Dumbledore may have appeared completely busy managing the Order of the Phoenix and hunting down Horcruxes with Harry, he managed to keep a sharp, concerned eye on Draco. When Draco was on the verge of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet before Dumbledore was prepared, the headmaster assigned Hermione a task. She was to go back in time and stall Draco, any means necessary."She was seriously considering doing something categorically insane. She wanted to reveal herself to him.Christmas break was upcoming, and she'd been essentially alone for three months. Knowing the holiday was near made her yearn for companionship. She felt like she knew a side of Draco that he kept hidden away while outside the Room. He was clever and noble and steadfast and scared and handsome and – and she wanted to reveal herself to him."

Fowl Games by Pureblood_Muggle - T, one-shot - Hermione never believed in Divination - and she wasn't going to start now, just because Luna *saw* something.

Journal Entries by TriDogMom - E, one-shot -  Draco is in a meeting and gets a naughty message from Hermione.

Ocean Views by MrsMast - G, one-shot -  Hermione had some time off work, and Draco so happened to be at the same beach. When they run into each other, will things go how they expect?

Research, Destruction, and Love by highlyintelligentblonde - G, one-shot - How Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger finally got together after knowing each other for 10 years, being friends for five, and being coworkers for 3. Told from an insider perspective ;)

The Orphan by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - A couple torn apart. A soldier at war. A lost child.

Revelations by LuxLouise - not rated, one-shot - Hermione makes a startling discovery.

20 Questions by savedprincess85 - T, one-shot - Hermione rescues Draco from a bad date. What happens during a game of 20 questions?

A Walk in the Park by IRisEaGLeS - G, one-shot -  Hermione Granger is stressed, but then she meets a cute little cherub at her favorite park. And like every cherub in history, this little one decides to play matchmaker.

Stake Me Out Tonight, I Don't Want To Let You Go 'Til We Catch This Guy by fandomfairytales - E, WIP - Written for the DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020Based on the following prompt tags from HighlyIntelligentBlonde: Co-Workers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff, HEATitle courtesy of Charles Boyle (NINE-NINE!!) because I accidentally gave this a slight B99 vibeoOoPartners for more than a few years, Draco and Hermione have captured more than just their fair share of criminals on behalf of the Auror Department, they've captured each other's hearts: taking each other down is another matter entirely...However, Hermione Granger never met a problem she couldn't solve; armed with a plan and a three-day stakeout, what's the best that could happen? Strap yourself in, I'm back for more; with plenty of fluff, soft smut, silliness, Dramione being idiots in love and giving the DMLE betting pool a constant source of fresh romance gossip and entertainment... Oh and a case/perp that has literally no bearing on the plot

Starling by floorcoaster - T, one-shot - Someone's been helping Hermione with her work and she's not sure what to think.

DFW Tropes Fest: Double Trouble 2020:

Felix Mal Felicis by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger came back to Hogwarts as Head Girl. Unfortunately, her counterpart - Head Boy - was Draco Malfoy. To make the year even more difficult, they've been partnered together to brew a rather difficult potion. Felix Mal Felicis - Bad Luck Potion. It's difficulty lies in the brewing process - bad lucks seems to always happens while it's being brewed. Hence why it's not often made. Hermione discovers just how much bad luck she can handle.

Finishing Lessons by Seakays - T, WIP - When Hermione Granger finds out she is the illegitimate pureblood daughter of two members of the Sacred Twenty Eight, she needs a tutor to help her navigate the old customs and expectations thrust upon her.Enter Draco Malfoy.

Somebody I used to Know by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Hermione didn’t know why she was even here. Why did Ginny always suggested things like this? But it was worth a shot, if the worst happened she could simply forget about and move on. She had a fairly happy life, but her love life left a lot to be desired.If Pansy could find someone for Harry why couldn’t she do the same for her?

Worth It by crochetaway - M, one-shot - Hermione is sent up to Hogwarts to investigate instances of Dark Magic. But digging to the bottom of this mystery isn't the only thing she finds up there.

riddle me this by megamegaturtle - G, one-shot - Their fingers touch when Draco hands her the paper and Hermione's heart almost jumps out of her chest.The note reads: How do you spell ‘cute boy’ with only two letters? -Riddle Me ThisHermione finds herself grinning. “Cutie. Q-T. That’s the answer to the riddle. You’re a cutie, Malfoy.”[the one where someone leaves Draco Malfoy riddles to solve from the local coffee shop's community board and he enlists Hermione Granger for help.](Written for 2020 DFW Trope Fest: Double Trouble) 

The Holly and The Ivy by dirtymudblood - M, 3 chapters - “Actually,” Hermione interrupted, “I’m so glad because… because I’ve been seeing someone too and I was going to ask how you’d feel about me bringing them to the Burrow.” Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione’s fingers tingled. Take that, Ron. “Who?” He shouted, bewildered. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

The Soulmate Test by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Draco Malfoy’s life after the War has lapsed into a steamy round of indulgence between the Manor and Knockturn Alley. A highly eligible bachelor despite his dark past, Draco is used to scheming witches glamouring “DLM” on their arms and claiming to be his soulmate in accordance with ancient magic. But he never expected Hermione Granger to be one of them.

The Muggle's Wise Daughter by Mariana_Monteverde - G, 2 chapters - A Dramione Fairytale AU.Draco is a young King, one of his ministers has betrayed him, and the man's only salvation is the ability of his daughter solving the King's Riddle...

Reverse by kifiyathewriter - T, one-shot - When a number of his patients begin to die from a mysterious ailment, Draco Malfoy goes on a mission to seek out the source and unwittingly uncovers a dark truth.

You, Me, and all my other Figments by Shamione - T, one-shot - Hermione sighed dejectedly, glancing over a stone facade that had once plagued her nightmares: Malfoy Manor. A home that, at one point, had been her sole source of anguish. It was now a place that bore a new level of melancholy, though. A place that reminded Hermione Granger that Draco Malfoy was gone.He'd vanished and left no clues toward his whereabouts. Nothing, that is, until the Manor's wards were dropped. A rusty amulet is the single shred of evidence that could shed light on Hermione's once boyfriend.A new scar, an awful date, and an image of the man she'd desperately missed are the only clues to help her find her missing love.

How the Omega Was Won by Amebb42 - M, one-shot - When Hermione presents as an Omega, she is appalled to discover that the Alphas usually fight amongst themselves and whoever is strongest takes the Omega. The Weasley twins help her come up with a way to "try out" the local Alphas and choose for herself. They might have left out a few details of where she will find herself within this new product of theirs.

RX by Starryar - M, one-shot -  STOP! Did you know this one shot was expanded into a multi-chap? Check out 'RX - The Full Story' for additional content!��------ Written for the Double Trouble Fest. Thank you Dramione Fanfiction Writers for hosting this! Assigned Tropes: Meet Ugly & Prison AU. Please mind the tags. ------ Draco Lucius Malfoy was stuck in-between enjoy life and rebuilding it. Should he throw his life away on the drugs, or should he create an honorable legacy for the Malfoy name? Perhaps he already knew the answer, but was putting off responsibility as long as he could. Hermione Jean Granger had been hit hard after the war. She didn't qualify for the order of Merlin and she had no family due to her memory charms being too great. The war veteran decided that Healer School was her best bet at undoing her own charms, but the price for education was never cheap. Two days in one cell and the two once enemies may find unexpected help in each other - if they don't get charged with murder first.

This fest is ongoing.

[redstone-sun]

TRSNS: Angst Ending

[purewhitepages]

Desert Heat Chapter 4

Chapter 3

A/N: I apologize for such a short chapter and so much later than I had promised. The end of the semester is quickly approaching and I had a lot of work to get done after my vacation. Regular uploads should resume this Sunday. I just wanted to get something out as soon as I could. Thank you for your patience. I tried something different with this chapter, let me know if you like it

Interesting information: The year this story takes place (1922) is a significant year in Egyptological history because it was the year King Tut’s tomb was discovered. It was a significant find because the tomb was completely intact, without any robberies. This was the first time it had happened. Some scholars have even considered this event to be the end of the height of Egyptology, though excavations still occur to this day.

From the Journal of Lord John Grey

Late January 1922

Excavations have halted along the South Wall of Site BP2. After the noon-day break, digging yielded a bricked up entrance much like that referred to in QLB Entry 187. The desert mole had been right, gods be good.

The brick was a typical mud of that used in structures at the time. Most likely made of earth materials (clay, dirt, etc.) and straw mixed with water and fired. Though, as outlined in several QLB notes, it is a mystery as to how and why such a structure was built so far from the Nile in the middle of the desert. Theories have ranged from perhaps great monsoons swelling the river beyond the usual delta, putting the river much closer, but there has been little evidence of that.

The entrance gave little trouble opening and it would be of no surprise to this author if, over the millenia, any and all antiquities in the cavern had been looted by raiders.

CEB was the first to enter and reported much what I had expected: no obvious objects or paintings beyond a carving on the opposite wall. I validated this claim and sketched the enclosed (JWG 55) of the carving, verified by CEB as what she also saw. The lettering appears to be Latin rather than the typical Hieratic, Greek, or even Hieroglyph. This would not be so out of the ordinary given our original thought that the structure most likely would have been raided several times over the millenia. But when one takes into consideration how out of the way the hereto unknown Site BP had been until just after the War, what is the likelihood of a Latin alphabet speaker to be here.

This is not even taking into account the theory by JF--

It was only after the scuffling had proved too loud to ignore that John looked up from his journal to notice the current state-of-affairs in his tent. An injured Scotsman, a well-educated Brit, and a Desert Frog stuck in the middle of winding sand dunes. He was beginning to think he didn’t quite like this joke.

“It doesna make any sense,” Mr. Fraser stated, pacing next to  the table where Claire, Fergus, and Miss MacKimmie sat.

“Well, as John said, it could very well be graffiti from a pre-modern age,” Claire stated, ever the pragmatist.

He stopped and looked at her. “Aye, but there is no written record of a Proto-Celtic language from before the Modern Age. And of course this isna takin’ inta account that I can read the damn thing in my own Mother Tongue!” His face was red and his whole body was stiff with frustration and stress.

“Can you please explain to me- to all of us why this matters so much to you?!” Claire demanded back to him, not swayed a step by the Scot’s temper.

He deflated somewhat and he glanced at Miss MacKimmie. The young woman caught his eye and looked at Fergus beside her, seemingly confused why he would look at her thus.

“I- I canna,” Mr. Fraser finally said.

“What do you mean you ‘canna’?” Claire demanded. “You can’t just storm around here scaring us all half to death with your incredulity at a carving and then hold out on us as to why! I won’t allow it.”

He seemed to chew on her words. “If I tell ye what it says, will ye promise not to tell Dougal?”

Claire seemed taken aback by this. “Of course.” She’d never had any intention of telling the Great Scot anything.

“That goes for everyone.” Mr. Fraser eyed everyone in the room as did Claire.

“You all heard him, zip it. You never heard of any carving in our cave.”

They all nodded. John sat forward in his seat as Mr. Fraser ran his good hand through his wild mane of red hair.

“‘Tis part of a larger verse, ye ken? But the part inscribed is ‘I give you my spirit till our life should be done.’”

Claire blinked a few times. “What is it a part of?”

“It’s a wedding vow,” Miss MacKimmie piped up then. “The former part being ‘You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my body so that we two may be one.’” She gestured to Mr. Fraser. “And then the rest.”

He nodded.

“Is it common in Scotland?” John asked.

Mr. Fraser nodded.

“That’s what’s got you in such a state?” Claire asked.

“‘Tis not a light vow, lass.” Mr. Fraser looked almost offended at her inability to understand.

“I never implied it wasn’t. But I fail to see why a wedding vow would cause you to be so shocked by its existence.”

“I said I would tell you what it meant, not what it means to me.” Claire was about to protest until his hand came up to stop her. She closed her mouth.

“Please, Miss Beauchamp, give me one day. I promise to explain everything tomorrow. Just give me a night to think on it.”

She looked to John who shrugged. “What else can we do but trust him? We’ve sworn not to let the news leave this tent.” Claire did not look happy, but she did not protest. “Mr. Fraser, you have your day. Pray do not disappoint.”

From the Journal of Quentin Lambert Beauchamp

Entry 187 1920-1921?

The discovery of Site BP has opened up new possibilities I had scarce thought of before. The stone circle at BP1 has many thinking of such sites as Stonehenge and Craig Na Duhn, but anyone who knows me best knows I could care less for faery stories and such poppycock. Leave that for the Frogs to squabble over.

What most interests me is the other side, BP2 and the House, though I know CB thinks me a daft old man for it. Perhaps I am.

From my experience and the notes of Emerson last season, I have a strong belief the entrance will be along the south side rather than the north side as that pompous-- Well, Emerson has decided to try there this season, but I predict he will come up with nothing but sand. All the better for me to snatch it from him next year.

I’ve been thinking long and hard, and I’ve come to a decision. After doing my due work at BP, I have decided to retire. Though I will miss the sands of the stretching wasteland, doubtless it will shift without me. Imagine me, an old coot in a cottage by the sea. And if I can convince CB to come along with us, all the better. Anytime I have left, I would much like to spend it with her.

[staticsandstationery]

Okay, so you want to start a bullet journal? But you don’t have the right notebook or the right pens or the right washi tape or the right ruler or the right vibe?

SO WHAT??

Don’t let a fear of your bullet journal not being able to compete with the bullet journals you see on Instagram keep you from jumping in. The trick to being successful by using your bullet journal is to just get started!

So I’m going to walk you through how I set up my bullet journal in about 45 minutes. There are plenty of ways to get a brand new bullet journal set up in anywhere from 10 minutes (trust me, it can be done to an extent) to upwards of a handful of hours. 

It all just depends on how much work you want to do up front and how much of a project you want your bullet journal to be each week and each month when it’s time for a new spread.

I, for one, used to fall into the category of people who spend way too damn long on setting up a bullet journal. When I first got started, I used about 12 different pen colors, I used to paint the covers of a new journal, and I used to try to do all these random things to decorate the pages (if you don’t believe me, just watch this pen pile grow).

This time, I wanted to take a different approach. I’ve been using either a Passion Planner or an Erin Condren Life Planner for close to two years now, but neither has every feature I need. Also, long story short, I wasn’t using my planner effectively anymore. Grad school is a little less...intense I guess? My to-do lists are shorter and my days aren’t as packed, but things carry more weight. Does that make sense? So my planner has a lot of wasted space at this point in my life, and last semester I didn’t use a planner at all because all I had was my team design project. I fought with myself for almost this entire semester about what to do to be a better student, keep myself more organized, and keep myself on top of my assignments and deadlines. 

The answer? Get back into bullet journaling.

I set my bullet journal up in about 45 minutes this morning before I sat down to study for my upcoming statistics exam, so let’s walk through how I did that.

1. Gather Supplies

First, I got together my existing Erin Condren Life Planner (which, let’s be honest, I will always love), an empty notebook I had lying around (I am the type of person that people gift notebooks to and I’m definitely not complaining), some highlighters (I only ended up using the gray one), and some black pens. I happen to have Faber Castell pens laying around because I like to sketch and they don’t bleed when I go over them with watercolors, but seriously, any black pen is totally fine. I promise.

2. Make your Index

Fortunately, the Leuchtturm1917 notebook I have comes with an index in the front already. However, if your notebook does not have one, you’ll want to go ahead and add that at the very beginning of your notebook.

I’m going to be honest, I don’t love that it’s called an index in the bullet journal community because to me it’s a table of contents if it’s a the front, but whatever.

3. Create a Future Log

Skipping the index and one blank page, I dove right in. I will say, I had a bit of a plan going in. I knew I wanted to have 6 columns, one for each month, so I spaced those out using a mechanical pencil. Using a brush pen I had laying around (you can also use a crayola marker or a plain pen/marker if you’re not feeling script fonts), I wrote out the first 6 months and gave my page a title.

I then did the exact same thing for the next 6 months.

Next up, I went over those pencil lines with a black pen. Pencil can be skipped, or going over with a black pen can be skipped - it depends on how confident you are in your spacing and what you want your bullet journal to look like (in the end, that’s what your bullet journal is all about, right?). Once I had my six columns, I went in and put mini calendars in for the first 6 months. I’ll go back and do May - October later.

Once I had my columns, I went in and started added some dates to my future log. If you’re on a time crunch and just want your bullet journal started so you can add in your first list, then by all means, power on through and skip this part!

4. Make your Monthly Spread

Okay, so this is 100% where my pencil and my eraser saw the most action. I had no idea what I wanted my spread to look like, just that I wanted a teeny calendar and a place for goals.

I started by sketching out some boxes, writing in what I wanted those boxes to be, debating whether I actually wanted any of those boxes, etc.

Eventually, I decided it’s what I wanted and I went over everything with some black pens.

I included a section for monthly goals, some important dates, and an overview of budget benchmarks. 

5. Add a Habit Tracker

100% optional, but I decided that on the page facing my monthly spread would be the perfect place to track some of the habits I want to get better about staying on top of. Since it’s a tracker for the month, it made sense to keep it with the whole month.

This is without a doubt the part that took the longest when I was setting up my bullet journal this morning. Not only did I have to figure out what exactly I wanted to track, but I also had to go through and ink in all the lines because once I started, I was committed.

Don’t get me wrong, I think it turned out great and I’m really excited to use it, but I wish I had left it until a few days from now, just because it did take almost 20 minutes for this one page (ridiculous, right?).

6. Make Your Weekly Spread

I decided to keep my weekly spread relatively simple, especially compared to what my bullet journal used to look like, and stuck to just black pen and gray highlighter.

I kept things as simple as possible. I’m hoping that with a simpler layout, I can maybe get a new weekly spread going in under 5 minutes as my weeks progress.

Along the lefthand side, I have my work and class schedule. Then the rest of the two page spread is dedicated to to-do lists. Can you spot the mistake I made on Monday? Who cares?? Make mistakes in your bullet journal!! This is JUST FOR YOU!

I may switch to more of a horizontal situation in the upcoming weeks, but for right now I’m on board with this one and we’ll see how it goes!

7. Finally, Make Sure You Have a Key

I forgot until the very end to set up my key, and honestly, it wasn’t the end of the world. I stuck it up on the page just before my index starts and called it a day.

I did my best to keep it simple. My keys in the past have had a habit of taking up an entire page. 

All in all, I’m really happy with the more minimalist direction this bullet journal is heading. I’m excited to only need to carry like two or three writing utensils to be able to use it, I’m excited to not stress about messing up, and I’m excited to be excited about school again.

I plan on adding a few more pages, like a cleaning schedule and a workout tracker or something similar, but that’ll come after I finished getting ready for my Stat exam!

What do your bullet journals look like? How long does it take you to set yours up?

[ch3ry1b10ss0m]

For the prompts 62 u know who

Fingertips smudged in blue ink

Hermann is not nearly as neat as he thinks he is. He might be a lot neater than Newt, sure, but he’s not totally put-together and perfect. For one, as professional as he wants his image to be, his clothing can often look messy as a result of not fitting properly, begging to be readjusted. And another thing - he always leaves half-drained, cold mugs of tea around the lab, sometimes on Newt’s side, and seems to have no idea that they’re his after the fact.

And the most persistent one - he’s always covered in whatever he was writing in. Chalk dust settled into his hair, streaking up his sleeves, absolutely coating his hands like he’s a gymnast or something. When he works with paper and pencil, it always ends up smudged all over his hands and sometimes, as a result, his face. It’s unbelievable; Newt doesn’t know how he manages it.

Newt’s startled when he walks into the lab one morning to find Hermann’s fingers stained with blue ink. He notices it as he sets down a mug on Hermann’s desk and glances over at his hands on the keyboard.

Hermann doesn’t work in pen. He needs the ability to erase and correct and perfect. He hates it when Newt takes notes or sketches in pen or marker or highlighter or whatever he can find first. Newt’s perfectly willing to start over if there’s a mistake - he just needs to get his ideas down before they evaporate. Hermann would rather carry on, edit and continue.

The most likely explanation here seems to be that Hermann was writing something personal, not professional. And that thought makes Newt’s insides clench up all funny in a way he doesn’t particularly like. He would have noticed if this was something Hermann’s done before, whatever this is, so whatever it is, it’s new. A diary or journal seems unlikely, if he hasn’t been keeping one over the last however many years, so maybe... a letter?

He really doesn’t like how he feels at the thought of Hermann handwriting a letter to someone, someone else, someone who isn’t him. He leaves the mug on Hermann’s desk without saying anything, trying not to visibly pout as he heads over to his own desk.

When he gets there, he noticing something that hadn’t been there the night before. An envelope, addressed in blue ink.

Newton, it says simply.

As he looks up, Hermann takes a sip of tea, his eyes on his computer, but he looks like he’s trying very hard to focus on the screen. Newt takes in a sharp breath and picks up the envelope. He’s careful about opening it, doesn’t want to ruin it. There’s just one piece of paper inside, folded neatly, though covered in smudges.

Newton,

This is the way we communicated best. I suspect the time to think before we reacted made a significant difference, though we were also under significantly less stress back then, weren’t we? Things have been especially grim of late and we’ve both been even more short-tempered than usual. I was wondering how we might alleviate some of our tension and remembered the ease of our communication in print.

To be entirely candid, I’m not just doing this because I think it will help us professionally. The idea of writing to you again, of maybe getting along the way we did back then, is very appealing to me. I hope you feel the same way, though I will of course understand if you do not.

Feel free to leave a letter in reply on my desk or at my quarters when you find the time. Our letters used to be primarily about work, so I won’t forbid that topic, but I don’t think it will benefit us much either to continue all the same conversations we have in person in our letters. And yet I am struggling to figure out what else there is to say.

My sister is getting married, did I ever mention that to you? I’ve been wondering how your little cousin is doing, though she mustn’t be very little anymore. She’s in university, now, isn’t she?

I suppose we still do have things we can talk about here. If you’d like.

I won’t await your reply, don’t worry. I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable, since we don’t talk about that time in our lives. I hope I am not the only one who misses it.

- Hermann

Newt realizes as he finishes reading the letter that it is shaking, that his hand holding it is shaking. He takes a very deep breath and sits down behind his computer. He wants to grab a piece of paper and the first writing utensil in sight and write a response: Yes, of course I miss it. Of course I want to write to you again. I want to go back to that version of us. Is that even possible?

But Hermann took time in crafting his. Hermann used pen. He was absolutely certain of everything he said. Newt owes it to Hermann to take the time to think; that’s the whole point of starting this up again.

Newt sets Hermann’s letter aside. He’ll wait until tonight to start his reply. This is an opportunity to correct the mistakes he’s made; maybe he’ll even use a pencil.

[nightingaletrash]

📖 for an OC of your choice? :0

Tysm :D I’ll do this for Venaya ^^ under the cut cuz oops it got kinda long o.o

[The journal looks old, but well looked after. The binding is made from guar-leather, and a heavy lock emblazoned with the shape of a bird cradling an orb keeps it firmly shut from prying eyes. The pages are generally pristine, some a little yellowed with age, but otherwise intact. The writing is neatly uniform, written by a practised, educated hand.]

28th Sun’s Height 216

Mother and Father spend the morning arguing, as has become their usual, so I spent the day with Uncle Melar rather than attending my lessons with Mother. She’ll be so busy being furious with Father, I imagine she won’t even remember. And if she does remember, Melar will surely speak on my behalf.

Things have definitely been much more tense as of late. Staying in the house is becoming unbearable. Father accuses Mother of being more interested in Redoran politics than her own family, Mother accuses him of apathy that weakens our House. It’s hard not to take sides. 

I hardly see Mother unless I visit her at her office, and even then she refuses to speak of anything but House affairs. Sometimes it feels like I’m less of a child to her and more of an investment for our future. The son who will set House Redoran on it’s ear, or at least that’s what she envisions for me. And I worry about Father’s habits lately. He disappears into the town for hours at a time and comes home with the strangest smells on his person. And it’s not matze. I’m worried he’s turning to skooma due to the stress of constantly fighting against Mother.

Perhaps I should have said something to Uncle Melar. I’ve always been able to speak to him about a great many things, and he is one of the few who I can speak to openly without fear of judgement or reprimand.But Mother and Father are both very proud. I doubt they’d be happy if I asked Melar to insert himself into our family’s affairs, and it might end up doing more harm than good.

I’ll speak with Father tomorrow. Perhaps being able to talk to me will ease his burden and make skooma a less tempting option.

5th Last Seed 2E 216

It finally happened. The fight to end all fights. Father is leaving tomorrow morning and is already packing his things... And so am I. My Father may not be ideal, but at least he has not divorced himself so entirely from his family that House Redoran is all he has left. I’m still concerned about his forming habits - I can see he is trying since we talked - but I won’t stay in Suran. Not whilst she is here.

After Father announced his intentions, Mother swiftly turned to me - for the first time in months - and demanded to know if I also intended to sully our family name. It was oddly satisfying to inform her that she was the one who destroyed the name Serethi, and even more so to see the look on her face. I’d not seen her so thunderstruck since I copied that argonian phrase as a child. Only this time was not met with a swift reprimand. Instead it was met by silence followed by the slamming of the door as she returned to her office.

May she find it as empty as the Void.

We depart for Sadrith Mora in the morning. Perhaps under the guidance of Ayem we will be able to lay the foundations of our new beginning.

[The later entries are markedly different from the earlier, the handwriting a little less uniform with increasing mentions of the author’s struggles with her father’s growing skooma habit. The pages are occasionally blotted with tear stains, and the next entry is undated and written in a shaky, almost indecipherable hand with smears of what appear to be blood.]

The Cammona Tong finally ran out of patience for Father. They jumped just along the coast and shoved me into the back of their caravan. To teach him a lesson, they said. I’ve never been so scared in my life. 

The smell of sulfur is almost overwhelming, even though it’s been nearly two weeks. My skin won’t stop bleeding. I can barely see what I’m writing. Even the smallest amount of sunlight makes my eyes hurt more than I can say.

Father is distraught. Every moment he’s at my side, he’s either in tears or on the verge of them, unable to process what the Tong did to me for his mistakes. He’s sworn off the damned skooma, at least. Promised he’ll work hard to repay his debts to the Tong and to every damned dealer he owes money. It won’t heal me, no amount of magic has, but it’ll make up for what I’ve been through on his behalf. Or at least I hope it will. I didn’t much like what I saw in the mirror already. This isn’t an improvement.

[The next entry is barely anymore readable than the last, but is free of blood smears at the very least.]

3rd Midyear 2E 218

It’s been over a month since I left Sadrith Mora. Since I found that damned s’wit and his fucking pipe. He promised me there would be no more skooma after what the Tong did to me. Well, it’s good to know that I’m as valuable as guar shit to him. Saves me a lot of time trying to justify his habits anymore.

I just can’t believe I wrote to Mother of all people. I can imagine she was practically cackling to herself in glee when she got my letter. She’ll be full of ‘I told you so’s’ and will be all too happy to remind me that duty to House Redoran is above all else. 

Well, we’ll see how long that lasts. I just need a place to stay a while and make some coin before leaving for the mainland. I’ve had enough of Vvardenfell. It’s brought me nothing but misery. The further I am from here, the happier I’ll be.

15th Midyear 2E 218

I’ve had a change of plans, and I couldn’t be happier for it. During my journey to Suran, I met the most fascinating nord, a young woman calling herself Astrid. She was struggling to dispatch a few cliff striders that had attacked her camp and I stepped in to help. What magic I learned from the Telvanni has evidently been worth the effort.Astrid was very grateful to me and offered me a place in her camp for the night. It’s preferable to curling up beneath a rock and praying to the Three that nothing gnaws my legs off in the night, so I accepted. 

We sat at the fireside, talking as we ate fresh kwama eggs, and something about her made me want to tell her everything. Perhaps it was magic, now with what I know about her, or maybe it was just being so tired of having no one to turn to since leaving Suran, but I told her anyway. About my struggles with being the son my parents had dreamed of, with their constant arguing and the way their marriage fell apart, my father’s struggles with skooma, and how he carried on with the stuff even after the Cammona Tong’s warnings.

It felt very much like talking to Uncle Melar because rather than interject her own opinions like so many people do, she simply sat and listened and only spoke when I was finished. She asked me my name, and when I told her it was Venaryn, she laughed and said ‘no silly, I mean the name you want to be called.’ So I told her I wanted to be called Venaya. She then asked if I truly wanted to returned to Suran and my mother. I told her no, that I didn’t want anything to do with the place, and she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Astrid is a cultist, a member of a cell of Nocturnal worshippers, and she offered to bring me to them. I asked, jokingly but also a little seriously, if she intended to sacrifice me. But she held my hand and, with the utmost sincerity, told me that she wished to repay me for stepping in to save her life by stepping in to save mine.

We’re headed for the coast, and from there we depart for Skyrim. I can’t say for certain if this cult is a wise choice, but wisdom hasn’t exactly done me many favours. At the very least, it couldn’t be any worse than returning to my mother.

[The following entry has returned to being readable - not crisply uniform and formal, but readable and relaxed. The pages as clean, save for a few pressings of wild flowers between the pages and a few (relatively poor) sketches have begun to appear between entries as well.]

28th Sun’s Height 2E 218

It’s hard to believe that just two years ago I was listening to my parents arguing over every little thing. The Twilight Sepulcher is practically a paradise in comparison. Here I study and pray in quiet contemplation, sometimes carrying out tasks for the Night Mistress. My transition continues, and whilst there have been bumps in the road, I am never without the support of my brothers and sisters. Astrid celebrates every milestone I reach with more exuberance than anyone else. Sometimes I think she’s happier than I am with my progress. 

Even now I can’t imagine what my life would be if I’d gone through with that stupid idea to return to Suran. I can only imagine my mother wondering why she never heard from me again. Undoubtedly she was bragging to her colleagues about the return of her wonderful son, only to be humiliated by my non-appearance. I honestly wish I could say it was planned, but part of me hopes it was part of Nocturnal’s plan for me. Some small measured vengeance for the woman who tore that family apart.

As for my father, I don’t know if he’s even alive. Every time I’m tempted to find out, Astrid and the others remind me of what he did to me, and I remind myself that that part of my life is over and the temptation passes. I have a life here. A family. I’m happy, for the first time. Venaryn Serethi is a chapter long since closed. I am Venaya Sero, 

and I won’t let the past take that from me.

[beraldathevalkyrie-blog]

Heading back; Snow.

“We made it lil’ one...” -Voice of Beralda

Within the where about of a cavern, the shadows lit upon wings overstretched the far reaches of the back where light were just barely shining from an oil lamp at the side. A Valkyrie it appeared out of her elements, sat cross legged by the fire with her newly acquired journal she had been given in her one day’s worth of travel. Silver accents upon her feathers from the wings were a lit with many small messages that glowered every so often in a lovely bluish color. A quill made from gryphon feather were brushed over pages, leathered in texture. Almost papyrus, but different style. 

“This place is surreal, almost another part of this Eorzea I’ve not yet experienced in quite sometime having the Garlean designs as intricate patterns here. I search in time for Bodvar and Aelfred. Aelfred mostly, nick named Stetson due for his favorite hat he adorns. He’s another half-breed I've come across in the few months I’ve been here. The others are Elezen’s mostly. Knife-ears as others call them. This writing a ‘journal’ theme seems to help soothe my mind, so. I will start off with. I am Lady Beralda, Valkyrie. Shield Maiden of the North, to the Clan of Wolf. 

My home is much North of here, within the ‘legend’ place apparently as I’ve been told, Halls of Valhalla. The Aesir are her people. ‘Her’ being the homelands of Asgard. I know, muchly known at the mythical place of others but here I am writing in a journal just to be away from this civilization of Eorzean citizens. Mostly Ul’dah. I stopped at this place call Camp Bluefog? Yes, odd name, but I’m here. With a small pup that followed me out from these caverns. I’ve yet to name him, but his spirit is strong. He is a young Wolf, that much I can see forth of his features and the way he carries his stride. A good traveling companion since I do not have my Gryphon. Bodvar. That is another...story itself.”

(Picture of Beralda and said Wolf pup right in the corner.)

The picture were placed within the journal taken a sketch of her as well the wolf pup earlier. The Valkyrie smiled, running her fingers over it before going back to her writings; 

“I’ve managed to talk to others here, about the where about of Aelfred. No signs of him this way, only through Ul’dah. Do I strive myself back there to the city-state to face the others yet? No. With or without my gryphon I will be heading North none the matter. There is a place called Camp Dragonhead I can go to, right outside of Ishgard. The home city to these knife-ears here. Some of them are kindly, I’ve met one actually that befriended quickly over Mead. Others...Not so much. The people here at the camp are to say the least...Colorful, if anything.

They strive to protect what they have here away from the Imperials. Little do they know, I once served on a vessel to get here for a long time. Learn the ways through them. That will be for another journal posting. Imperials that recruit Eorzeans into their ranks have little knowledge of what they were getting themselves into. I pity them, all of them. Including the footsoldiers of the Imperial Army. Everyone has a life. Everyone has a standard. My hatred for them is long gone after almost killing one that turned out to be a child no less. Barely in their summer years.

The Moon here rarely shines on the tavern here to which bunks to a Lalafell, two other patrons and a few more. They share beds or take turns through out the night to rest. A trust squadron. We did this back home when watching out for enemies through the raids we’ve done if I were not picking through Einherjar to bring forth to Odin. So many countless battles...

My sword and shield are still no where to be found, but this sword I have currently serves me proper. Given to me a by traveler that died on my first arrival here known as Coerthas Western Highlands. The gates were impeccable to go through, but once through is where I came upon this land. I am heading back there, to hunt and live perhaps for awhile. I don’t know yet, it’s my destination for the time being while in search of my gryphon and his current rider. Perhaps my sword and shield will pop up on the way North. I pray to the gods it does.

I wonder how my friends are foregoing in their nature after realizing some emotions that I’ve never had before. I need to clear my mind, my heart. Though I fear for them without me around, what am I to do? Asatolf, I’ve asked to watch over my good friend the Elder Monk Singing Ocean. While Rothgar I’ve packed my things from mostly and left in a hurry after assurance of leaving something behind at Yrsa’s. That woman of truth norse blood. Halone’s Priestess she is, as is she shall be. She is a Warrior, but a good woman, good heart. Means well. Rothgar? Well, he is a sweetheart of one, but some exchanged words made me realize that perhaps a friend were right. I am not meant for here. His wife as well himself share a housing that is much reminding me of Doman. It’s lovely.

Asatolf is a Baker as well a Monk. He has a wonderful home with a luxurious hot tub he spends most of his time within to clear his thoughts after a stressful day. He knows many friends, but at the same his heart is heavy as is his peace. He looks to me always with affection that I cannot give back due for oath. Of heart of gold, as well good manners. The Jotun is always welcomed in my book.

Yrsa is a woman of gratitude, beauty but stubborn. Comical in some ways, one of the first I’ve come to known in this land. A hot head like myself but welcomed me in her home first before any. I lived there with one other which I’m about to get to. She’s a long hall that is not visible really to those around, however seen clear as day if one knew where to look. Also a deputy with the Flames, which I were gracious of. She’s been a help more than any, if not one of my closest friends. A woman of home I can relate to.

Aelfred, or Stetson I like to call him for nickname really is a character. He brings out the best in folk that others cannot see with pestering them. A kindred that made me stop in tracks upon first walk in the Quicksands reminding me of someone. Though, that wasn’t ever the case. There’s a connection there I know of, but won’t write here. Perhaps it’s my mentality. He’s the one with my gryphon right now, however; after what Yrsa spoke to me, I’d rather a word with him to get my Bodvar back. I raised that feathered beast from an egg. I doubt he’d sell my gryphon but who knows?...He’s the half-breed I mentioned earlier also. The red haired one with open coat few have spoken to the last couple of days. I’ve gotten hints of his where about but he seems to frequent the city state when I’m not there. If one does see him, He’s always with cigar in hand, drinking Mead. Looks for Miqo’te tail to cut off wanting all the colors. As well tosses out Elezen out of the bar. There’s more here, but I’ll leave that for another section of journal entry.

Rothgar, helping in killer of the Siren, my dear friend. Or at least I thought. Perhaps he still is in a wonder of things if only wiser words were chosen. I get the fight stopping, but I were defending myself...Long story. Roth is a quiet man, calls himself old, but is a very good friend to others.  He would give the shirt off his back to others as well if it came to that. Currently, I’m still upset with him.

Jahl is the maker of happiness with others, gracious in his ways as well his husband. His heart is there but also shares another ‘open relationship’ type deal. Perhaps in time he will fondly help me capture Aelfred with Bodvar. When I mean fondly, I mean literally chasing him, soon. 

Siti, the Xaela that is another skin changer I call them. They make themselves known through other skins it seems. Miqo’te then back to Xaela. Quite odd for me to capture this in my mind but it has happened on several occasions. My heart calls out to mine friend of dark thoughts, he is young learning to protect others in his grace. I only which that his dance were the speak of his tongue as well. One day he’ll get it. He is still one never to be forgotten.

For now that is all I have to wish to write on this page, however I will continue so forth on my journey. This journal writing is something new as well interesting. Maybe one day my story will be shared when I am gone from this Eorzea or printed to share with others if I decide to stay here long term. That’s another saddening thing...Eorzean’s do not live as long as a Valkyrie. I found this out yesterday as well...”

The journal were closed while Beralda stowed it away into her satchel for another day worth of writing. She’s had plenty of time upon her hands recent with all going on after leaving the city-state. Her where about will be shared with friends alike through letters to send through the Moogles. Another creature she finds yet interesting, but curious. Within the light of the caverns now darkened from the oil lamp being turned down. Her wings were the only bluish light to now reckon the icy walls of the cave. Shadows danced from the small flames now dying off within the once campfire that lingered upon logs. 

The wolf pup yipped happily beside the Valkyrie when she made herself a bed out of straw to lay upon. With the pup jumping up within arms to be held for the night, the dreams came upon her quickly of prior wars. Good dreams then a nightmare she’d soon never forget.

[astronomyparkers]

Skyline

Warnings: None

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Thank you to all those who followed me and read my first fic!  I’m thinking of doing a part two to this one, so if you like it, let me know!

Your fire escape had always been your favourite part of your apartment.  Situated outside your bedroom window, you had spent countless hours of your life lounging on the metal steps, reading a book or catching up on some homework.  Last summer, you had wound a string of fairy lights around the rails, which were coated in shiny dark paint.  Your landlady had protested at first but, after you proved that they weren’t endangering the use of the fire escape in any way, she had let you keep them.  The small victory had brought a smile to your face, and now your escape was even cozier than before, and was still just as cozy a year later.  This year’s summer brought scorching heat and clear nights, and you spent most of your free time out on your escape, trying to catch a breeze.

You sat on your fire escape now, wearing a lightweight hoodie and pajama shorts, doodling in a journal.  School was out for the week and tomorrow didn’t require a six am wake up call, leaving you free to stay up late and admire the Queens skyline at night.  It was nights like these that you loved the most; nights that seemed like they were pulled straight from a movie scene, with stars that glimmered like flames, a full moon bigger than you had ever seen before, and the sounds of the city mixing in with the quiet melodies that drifted out of the speakers propped up on your window sill.  You would be content for the rest of your life if you could keep moments like these forever.

Of course, no sooner had the thought crossed your mind that the scene in front of you changed. To your left, there was a burst of light a few blocks away, and flames began to rise around the building. Sirens quickly began sounding, drawing nearer and nearer as the flames grew.  Despite the noise, you could hear shouts in the distance, and you got up from your seat on the stairs to see if you could find out the cause of the light.

You leaned over the railing as far as you could safely go, straining to see.  For a moment, there was nothing but the fire, until the burst of light occurred again, bigger and brighter than before.  You could feel the heat of it ripple across your face, and you stumbled back in shock.  Emerging from the source of the fire was a swinging figure, rushing away from the scene. You leaned over the rail again, even farther, squinting through the darkness to make out the identity of the figure.  After a moment, with the aid of the moonlight as the figure swung up through your street, you realized that it was the masked hero of Queens, Spider-Man.

Although anyone and everyone knew of Spider-Man, you had never seen the crusader in person. Of course, you admired him; there was something to be said for someone who spends their life trying to help others. And he seemed so down to earth—one of your friends at Midtown said that they had spotted him helping an old lady with directions, and another spoke of how he left notes for lost bikes and the like. A boy in your AP literature class claimed that he had been saved by Spider-Man a few months ago, and that he sounded like he was a teenage boy, not actually a man quite yet.  His bravery seemed to extend far past his age.

At that moment, Spider-Man’s bravery wasn’t the only thing extended too far.  While your mind had wandered to what you knew of him, you had leaned further and further over the guard railing.  Your train of thought was halted as you lost your balance on the bottom half of the metal bar (when had you climbed up onto it?) and you began to pitch forward.  Frantically, you tried to grab onto the railing and pull yourself back up, but no sooner had the thought crossed your mind that you felt yourself pushed back onto the safety of the fire escape.

Confused, you looked up to see Spider-Man in front of you, his arms still around your shoulders from where he had quickly grabbed you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern apparent in his tone (his voice was high but definitely male; it appeared the boy from your AP literature class had told the truth).  

You nodded your head, swallowing hard.  You were still a little shaky from the adrenaline of the scare. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Are, um, are you okay?”

“I—yeah, um, I’m okay,” Spider-Man answered confusedly, dropping his arms. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you kind of just, like…blew up a restaurant.” You bit your lip. “At least, I think it was a restaurant?  It was in the general vicinity of Vizzini’s.”

“I didn’t blow up Vizzini’s; the three guys who are currently webbed to a lamppost across the street blew up Vizzini’s.” Spider-Man defended himself, crossing his arms.

“Either way, it doesn’t make my favourite Italian restaurant any less blown up, does it?” You tilted your head. “Sorry.  That was rude.  I’m usually less rude?  I think it’s the shock of almost falling off a seventeen story high fire escape. Thank you, by the way.  I should’ve said that before.  That was also kind of rude.”

Spider-Man laughed. “It’s okay.  I’m just glad I swung by in time.”

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you, really.  I owe you. Even if you did blow up my favourite Italian place.”

“Well, thank you for asking if I’m okay,” Spider-Man replied. “No one ever does.  And if you need a new favourite restaurant, there’s a great Thai place over on 68th.  Amazing larb.”

“I’ll check it out.” You nodded.

Silence fell between you two.  What did you say now?  The shock was wearing off, and you realized that you enjoyed talking to Spider-Man. However, you were also aware that it was Spider-Man. What else were you supposed to say?

“I like your drawing,” The masked hero said after a moment, pointing to your notebook full of doodles that still sat on the stairs.  It was flipped open to a sketch you had done of some flowers in a park, to practice some shading.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” You walked over to the notebook and picked it up. “It’s just a little hobby, nothing big.”

“Hey, hobbies are great!  They don’t need to be big.” Spider-Man replied. “Were you drawing tonight?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, a bit.  I like to spend time out here, especially at night.”

“Can I see?” Spider-Man reached a hand out for the notebook.

You shrugged again, passing the book to him.  You weren’t really one for showing your doodles to people, but then again, this guy just saved your life.  You weren’t really in a position to complain.

Spider-Man accepted the book and flipped through, stopping at the drawing you did tonight. It was of the Queens skyline with all the stars shining above.

“This is my favourite,” He said.  Although you couldn’t see his mouth, you could almost hear the smile. “It’s a good night for drawing, huh?”

He passed the notebook back to you, and you tore the page out. “Here.  Keep it.  As a thank you.”

Spider-Man shook his head. “No, thank you, but I can’t.  It’s yours.”

“No, seriously, it’s just going to stay in the book forever,” You gave a small smile. “It’s really not a big deal.  I want you to have it.  And look, there’s Vizzini’s there; it’s like a memoriam for the best Italian place ever.”

Spider-Man folded the drawing and tucked it into one of his black bracelets.  You realized, looking closer, that they were his web shooters.

“Thank you, uh…” Spider-Man trailed off. “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Y/N.” You smiled again. “And you’re welcome.”

Spider-Man glanced over his shoulder, towards the burning building.  You had almost forgotten about the fire. “I have to go,” He took a few steps back, towards the rail. “But be careful next time, okay?”

“I will, but you better be careful too, Spider-Man.” You gave him a long look, stressing each word.

The hero nodded, and with a wave, he was off, swinging from web to web.

By Monday morning, your friends knew of your meeting with Spider-Man, and by lunch, it seemed like the entire school was flocking towards you to hear the story.  Once the day was almost over, you felt like you had repeated the tale thousands of times, yet people still clamoured for all the details you could give.  A small group had gathered around your locker, looking at you eagerly.

“He took the drawing with him?” A girl from your calculus class said in awe. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, you’re so lucky, Y/N,” Another classmate said, shaking their head.

“I mean, I did almost fall from a hundred feet,” You reminded them. “And accused him of destroying my favourite restaurant.  He probably took the drawing so he could show it to the Avengers and tell them about the weird girl who jumps over fire escape railings.”

“I think you’re wrong,” A voice from next to you piped up. “I think he appreciated you asking how he was doing.”

You glanced beside you to see Peter Parker, a kid who sat behind you in physics.  You weren’t particularly close to Peter, but you had talked a few times, and your lockers were located in the same row.

“You think so, Peter?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well…no one ever asks the hero if they’re okay,” Peter shrugged, opening his locker and placing a few books inside. “They just kind of assume they are.  Everyone likes being treated like they matter.”

“You make a good point.” You smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”

“No problem.” Peter gave you a shy smile.

Just then, the bell rang, signalling it was time to get to final period.  The group around your locker began to disperse, but not without one final question.

“Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” Someone asked curiously.

“Nah,” You grinned wryly and shook your head. “I can’t imagine that a random citizen who hangs out on fire escapes and doodles is of much interest to a superhero.”

With that final comment, everyone parted ways to their final class.  Only Peter stayed behind, saying he would see you in physics.

Peter grabbed out the books he needed for his final class, and looked at the drawing he had taped up in the back of his locker.  The Queens skyline seemed to shine, even in plain graphite pencil.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Y/N.” Peter grinned to himself and shut his locker. “You’re a lot more interesting than you think.”

{part II}

[nafisakhan-appdesignblog]

Interviews for Potential App

Zuiarah I.

1. Yes, I went to a fashion high school and I’m very passionate of sewing and sketching. I still do sketches in my diary of croquis with new outfits and sometimes I color it. 2. I sleep, haha. No but I cook and watch television. 3. It is usually in increments of time but around 2 hours. 4. I don’t have time especially with classes and it’s all cramped together, so I don’t really have a chance to do anything creative. 5. If I were to have some more free time and not so busy with school. 6. I color, I have these coloring apps on my iPad and I doodle on there. I used to journal but I stopped because I was anxious someone would find it. 7. Just the creative control it gives me because I could literally do anything I want. 8. Yes, very much so because it’s so convenient and it is private and only for you. It has so much more options and you can make time for it anyway and anywhere because you can always have it with you. 9. Yes, definitely. 10. Yes, but it’s hard to find any good ones. 11. A personal experience because when it’s social you kind of feel like it’s more of a competition with others. 12. A section to maybe make recordings. 13. That it’s not private enough because anyone could open your phone and find it. So maybe adding something for privacy.

Dania M.

1. Yeah. 2. No, not really because I don’t have time. Usually if I’m stressed it’s because I’m working a lot. I draw when I’m bored, though. 3. If I were to do activities, I spend about two hours on it. 4. Yeah usually time constraints with work. 5. Working less, managing my time, balancing between chores/errands, balancing out time and chores. 6. Yes, I sketch and draw in my free time. 7. It clears your mind and having a finished product or coming up with new ideas/working on your skills helps you progress. 8. Prompts for sketching would make me want to do it. 9. Yes, for prompts definitely that would be cool and helpful to engage in. 10. Yeah like quotes or anything positive I would want a personal experience because I would want some thing to spark my own ideas, kind of like pinterest.  11. Another part could be like random shuffle words, something personal kind of like a quick type of app. If it were to be social, maybe the prompts could have results under it and other people could post their result and what their take on it was. 12. Shuffle/buzz words, prompts, lists, share button. For beginners it could have helpful words to draw. 13. For me it would definitely have to have prompts because I do not exactly journal. It’s more about getting ideas because sometimes you get stuck on like things to draw or make.

Nusaiba K.

1. Yes, definitely. 2. Yes, I start cleaning and doing chores around the house.  3. Maybe like an hour to an hour at a half at most. It depends on how much I have to do. 4. Usually if I can’t do it, it’s because I do not have the time to do it because of work. 5. Yeah if I had some help. 6. No. 7. N/A 8. If I had an easier access to journaling, I would. So, I can quickly jot down my thoughts. 9. Yes, it can get my creative juices flowing. 10. Yes, they do. 11. I think it should have the ability to do both, so, if you feel like you really like what you wrote will impact someone, you could maybe share it with them. 12. Maybe it can have a lot of features where people can write and share their stories. Maybe some crossword puzzles? Haha, I don’t know. 13. If the personal things I wrote got shared by an accident. So privacy is very important for me in this because it is personal.

Saudia B.

1. Fairly creative. 2. Not really, but sometimes I try to listen to music to calm down. 3. About 15 minutes. 4. Yes, sometimes it feels like I have no time to even carve out 5 minutes to calm myself down. 5. If I was more conscious of my time. Apps could be helpful too because of the convenience. 6. No. 7. N/A. 8. Yes for sure!  9. Yes, sounds so fun and relaxing. 10. Yes! 11. Personal experience, or maybe if it was more social then there could be an option to post anonymously. 12. Creative and thought provoking prompts that could help me get my mind off of what is making me stressed. Or the prompt could help me think through my feelings and break them down into smaller issues that I can tackle. 13. Nothing I can think of, it’s sounds very interesting!

Yeraimyz S.

1. Yes. 2. Yes, I tend to game a lot on my PC. 3. For about 3-5 hours. 4. N/A 5. N/A 6. Yes I do I tend to sketch.  7. Writing and sketching whatever comes to mind honestly.   8. Yeah it would be way easier to keep with me.  9. Yeah they should be in different categories like tabs on the app. 10. Yes. 11. Sure. 12. The affirmations should come with cute doodles as well to keep within the theme of sketching. 13. There should be a privacy setting and one part where you could post your journal to the public.

(first 3 interviews done in person, last 2 were done through google forms)

[cloudpines]

Year-end reflection

What were your 3-5 greatest accomplishments? It’s hard to think of 3-5 accomplishments at all. I tend to underestimate what could be considered an accomplishment. Mostly, this question makes me wonder what I wanted out of this year. 1. Navigated extremely tough work year with an absent supervisor 2. Initiated a move into a more suitable apartment 3. Told my supervisor once I’d reached burnout 4. Participated in peer-to-peer coaching 5. Ran a 5k

What helped you achieve the above accomplishments? Insights from working with my therapist helped me have a greater sense of my needs and my contributions. A friend encouraged me to try peer-to-peer coaching, and the resources in the coaching program have been helpful for my coaching experience. Another friend encouraged me to start running and set an example for me.

What was the smartest decision you made? The smartest decision I made was to move to Capitol Hill. My roommate and I have both flourished in this apartment. I’m within walking distance of my other closest friend, which has been a lifesaver during this second winter of the pandemic. I just know if I was still in that Queen Anne apartment, I would feel so isolated and unhappy this winter. I leave home less now, but this new apartment is so much brighter and cozier that I feel so much more content. I also let go of a lot of the baggage that I was holding on to in the old space. One’s environment matters.

What was the biggest risk or moment of courage. My initial response is to say I don’t think I took very many risks this year, but if I think about what Connie would say, I think I took a risk my telling my supervisor that I was burnt out. I risked looking (in my mind) weak and unable to do as much as others. It was really scary to admit that my workload was too much. I felt weak and inferior. But in hitting that point, I was able to separate my identity from work, and started to feel less attached to overworking. I have more balance now.

What people had the most impact on your life? My therapist and certainly my roommate. I still struggle in therapy to open myself up to the relationship, but I wouldn’t be as healthy as I am without her. My roommate has become my closest friend, and has been my support throughout the pandemic. I’m so glad I have her.

What would you most like to be acknowledged for? My attention to details and my ability to remember what needs to be done and to do it right. Both my supervisor and roommate have mentioned my ability to take things in stride and remain calm during stress, which I appreciated.

What results did not happen that you wish had happened? I didn’t apply to graduate school. I didn’t find a romantic relationship. I still don’t feel entirely over past relationships. I spent way too much time wasting time on social media or TV. I still don’t feel like I have the fulfilling life I want, and I still self-defeat.

To what do you attribute your primary failed intentions? It takes a long time to learn to love yourself and be kind to yourself. I didn’t plan well and was not intentional with my time. I have low tolerance of uncertainty, so I procrastinated looking at schools. I didn’t regularly reflect and observe myself.

What new approaches come to mind? Planning better and carving out intentional time to reflect and journal. Observe myself and be more present. Starting real professional coaching.

What was the greatest lesson you learned? I learned more about defining the self and what it means to be who I am. I learned that the struggles and suffering I endure are not different or worse than what others go through, and that they don’t make me less than.

What is your biggest piece of “unfinished business” as you start the next 12 months? Graduate school.

What thoughts do you have about how to deal with this unfinished business? I need to figure out how to improve at tolerating uncertainty, think about the real reason I haven’t taken next actions yet, and explore possibilities that I may be scared to.

In general, what new practices do you resolve to take in the new year? (no more than 3) 1. Be more intentional about how I spend my time. 2. Journal more often. 3. Sketch every day.

What support will you get to assure you successfully engage in these new practices? Building in time for reflection. Finding productivity or accountability tools and implement a new one each month until one works. Use Panda Planner every week. Therapy. Professional coaching.

With which people in your life do you think it would be beneficial to share this reflection? My friend Sarah.