#my self indulgent post turned into a friend gushing post which i think is a pretty accurate yearly summary 🤣

[bittersweetresilience]

sunny's year half year in review

because i am all about that self celebration 👏

achievements

🏅 joined a fandom 🏅 got married (🌖) 🏅 made friends (🏮🌺🌋🍜🍀🕊️🦌🧬💤🦎🦭☄️✍️🪨🪶🦚💝🎞️🪄🍞) 🏅 learned new things (📸🪡📑) 🏅 sunnyscrambles

creations

an ongoing amélie dissertation in sentitwin soulmate au. next chapter will be posted on new year's day and will feature art from @moonieratty!

félix and amélie webweaves. my favorites that i've made! all literature is from my graham de vanily reading lists.

ladynoir amv. so many episodes in this. my storage space...

multifandom webweave. the first one i made and still very important to me!

i entered a feverish haze after @nemaliwrites's remixes introduced me to a softer world and the result was Feelings.

my favorite fic i wrote this year. mind the trigger warnings.

recommendations

running in the shadow

i cannot describe how much this fic means to me. i left hundreds of messages during my liveread and i wept all through my comment and my reblog and still it's not nearly enough. it's one of my favorite gifts, one of my favorite fics, and one of my favorite works of art i've ever seen. thank you to @wackus-bonkus-maximus for being a role model, an inspiration, and my first fandom friend.

i love you (for senti-mental reasons)

as the head of the as time goes by pr team, i would be remiss not to recommend something from this series! félix in this universe makes me turn into dynamite. second recommendation is betcha on land (they understand). i'm a big fan of @redundant-lava, you see.

i know there's been pain this year (but it's time to let it go)

what's there not to like about @ninadove's sentitwins? her christmas fic blew me away. i love her creative costume designs, her references to classics and video games, and her accompanying fic art. honorable mentions to la nuit, tous les chats sont gris and everything i did (i did for you).

bon voyage

one of the original highlights of my summer. the dream sequence in chapter four blew my mind. the way this fic was planned to end drives me nuts in the best way.

bell the cat

the single most amazing fantasy au i've read. i'm regularly awed by how incredible it is, and awed by @heartfulselkie's writing, art, and person in general. if i learned how to bind books, this would be at the top of my list. i keep saying it because it's true.

thirteen

our monthly dosage of pain, exquisite backstory exploration, and gorgeous @anna-scribbles prose. i'm always a sucker for pre-canon and this is The fic for adrien pre-canon fans. christmas félix will make me explode.

a rose by any other name

i love everything @asukiess makes but shoutout to loveybug au for being such a fun and creative time for the lovesquare fandom. this fic also comes with the loveyvelours art of all time. the other day i started thinking about kuro neko unprompted. autumn is in my brain...

phoenix félix

this isn't a fic, but i'll never miss a chance to scream about art by @luckychatons. phoenix félix is immortalized in my discord profile picture. i'm blessed to receive secret félix doodles and catsona designs on the down low!

moonie

just scroll through their entire art account. everything they make is an eye feast, and they haven't even posted the half of it. my partner and creative inspiration. the moon to my sun. buy them a coffee for always supporting dead girls club.

[greenhousethree]

Asked and Answered (Chasing chapters 2-3!)

These asks have been making my day since I posted chapter two, and life was unexpectedly a lot last month but we're back and ready to rumble, baby. Chapter four is getting a bunch of final edits, but in the meantime I've been getting a KICK out of your questions...

Spoilers, sneak peeks, and theories below!

I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this one, anon! But rest assured I have not forgotten about Kreacher, and we haven't heard the last about selling Grimmauld Place (more on that in chapter 5). From Harry's letters, though, we're learning that George and Ron think they could use a slave someone to do the washing up, which would be a level of such bougie dichotomy in a shitty London flat that I, for one, would love to see.

Dean In Paris is a little arc that I've been so excited to reveal, and starting with chapter 4 we'll definitely be hearing more about it. We still have a lot to learn about his year on the run, too, and what it was like to come out of the woods and reintegrate with both Muggles and wizards... our poor boy's really been through it.

As far as Luna goes, we'll be getting more of their interactions next chapter too (wouldn't be a party without a little inter-house mingling)! We know she's fresh out of a relationship with his old roommate, so we'll see if Dean will go two for two with DA girls 👀

Cheers, anon!

Thank you so much for this question, anon! I promise we'll get some Charlie moments that have to do with Quidditch, but at this point it would be giving away too much to reveal the role (if any) he might have at her first match. Instead here's something a little out of context:

"What the hell," she snorted, turning a stone over in her left hand before pitching it low over the waves. "You sound like Mum, asking me shit like that. Or Bill." Charlie shrugged, sending his throw so far he must've charmed the rock. "I dunno. Bloke seems moody is all. Not that I blame him... I just wanted to be sure everything was good, I guess." "It's sort of cute, you checking up on me." "Shut up. You think this is the first time?"

Anon I could kiss you for this question because I don't really write A/Ns for these chapters, but now I get to point out one of my favorite self-indulgent little details from chapter three:

“We’re just going to keep him still until someone gets here.” And she took Kirke’s head between both hands, sliding her fingers underneath to gingerly probe through the back of his hair. “Help’s coming, Andrew. You’re okay. We’re going to get you inside.”

I took that last line directly from the text with the intention of thrusting Ginny back into a moment at the end of DH that doesn't really get resolved or explained. More on that to come, but in this moment Ginny is really triggered by this burden of someone else's safety— of caring for the injured— and the helplessness that accompanies it. I'm really looking forward to tying this in with her ambition to be a Healer, which we learn she discussed with Professor McGonagall months after witnessing her father's hospitalization, her brother and friends' injuries, and Sirius's death. As the youngest Weasley she's been barred from so much of the action, so those moments of powerlessness were made more bitter by the fact that she was trying to do the only thing she felt she could. The panic comes from knowing the only thing she could do wasn't always enough...

Gushing over this question! A theory! About my fic!

I've gotten a few different versions of "where's Binns?", and I really don't want to give too much away because it'll come into play in later chapters, but I will say that the situation is a little more complicated than education reform. The only hint I can offer is that it's been really hard to convey everything that hasn't been around at Hogwarts without drawing too much attention to it, especially through Ginny's limited narration...

Priscus, though! Shame that Ginny would (imo) never canonically take a History of Magic N.E.W.T., so we'll have to settle for hearing more about him from Hermione.

🫡

thanks for this prompt, anon! without further ado, here's a peek at two character debuts for this fic:

Demelza grinned over the rim of her mug, eyes narrowed. "Could've told me sooner." "I know." "You know Romilda still doesn't believe you either, right?" "Doesn't matter," Ginny mumbled before tipping her head back to empty her cup, blood thudding sluggishly in her ears as she thought of his jumper and his letters— solace and evidence, tucked away in the same place. "She can't prove anything. Didn't believe me last year either, did they?" Demelza shrugged. "Just thought you'd want to know. She brought it up first thing on the train 'cause she knows we're friends. Can't imagine she's wasting too much brainpower on it right now, though..." At the table by Dean's bed, Dennis was refilling two cups with wine, cracking a grin as Romilda bumped a playful shoulder against his.

(Neither of today's sneak peeks passes the Harry Bechdel test, and for that I apologize.)

I also received a few more questions about Ginny's shoulder, especially after her conversation with Dean this chapter... I answered something similar in this post (if you scroll down a bit) and linked to postwar fics that occur before this story. Cheers! 🌱

[sylviareviar]

Cards

Hello friends I am currently on a major Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's high and therefore want to duel people, but here's the catch...

I also want to RP as my character, Sylvia, and I want to use The Weather Painters. But I also strongly dislike Link Monsters. So for the sake of some fics I've posted to Wattpad (because I am attached to them, but not proud of them), I've made some fake cards and am trying to make them balanced. (Also please don'tbe mad at me for this. They're my comfort fics and I like to think I could make some decent cards... If you don't want to do any practice duels/RP with my character because she's a self-insert or because of these cards, I completely understand. I've simply gone in too deep and would like someone to indulge with...)

Here are some examples of my cards. Please keep in mind, since I made these with 5D's (and their respective World Championships series video games) in mind, I also would like to use the rules of the TCG according to the anime/games at the time. (No Xyz or later Extra Deck Monsters, Dark Synchro and Tuners are okay, players draw a card even on the first turn, no extra zones, etc.) This is not canon to my character, nor should it have to be canon to yours if you don't want it to be. I just need someone to gush to ;-;

(Also by the way, I switched out the Google search artworks I had for the art on these characters to just generic stock photos or blank/patterned color just in case, because I don't want to claim what the artists made as my own. I'm working on my own rendition of the artworks I want to see. It won't be in the same style because I don't know how to replicate it, but when I'm done, I might post them up here.)

The only The Weather Tuner Monster: The Weather Painter Wind, who is a stand-in for the color red (or Crimson, because the overlap is too good to ignore). As such, she has no attack or defense points and is only one star, making her perfect for the dragon of my character, who is an artificial Signer (no, I'm not making this up, it was actually in the video games. It's not canon, which means it's fair game to play with >:D )

Upon re-reading her effect, I think I'll edit it, actually. Just remove the entire second part of her effect.

"This card cannot be used for the Synchro Summon of a Monster besides a Synchro "The Weather" Monster, and can only be used for Synchro Summoning. Once per turn, during the Standby Phase of the turn after this card was banished from the field to activate a "The Weather" card's effect: You can Special Summon this card."

From now on, that's the new effect of Wind.

The reason Wind has no ATK or DEF is to balance out this card, which I thought would be interesting to treat like a canvas of its own. Despite being a Dragon-type Monster, it's still a part of "The Weather" archetype, as it represents the sky--a canvas for the Weather Painters--as a whole. I like to imagine that as the guardian of the fairies, it has six wings, one of each canon Weather Painter's colors, and one or two of them will light up based on which ones were used to create its total ATK and DEF. For example, if Rain and Cloud were combined with Wind to create Sky Dragon, its ATK would be 1200 + 1500 = 2700 and DEF would be 1400 + 1000 = 2400. Or Snow and Thunder could make 1700 ATK and 2200 DEF. And so on. You could also just use Aurora if you wished, making its ATK and DEF 2200 and 2000 respectively. It's a 7-star monster because all of the Weather Painters except Aurora are LV 3, Aurora being LV 6. With just one star on Wind, that makes Sky Dragon fit into the pattern as a Signer Dragon.

(Another big plot point of my character is the power to make new cards, by the way, but it only works for her archetype and it's very, very difficult to do because if I make her make too many, I would skew the balance of the archetype too much)

Also the dragon's ability does not prevent people from destroying the Weather Painters in battle, which is decently easy to do because they're not super powerful anyway.

I also have...

I just put her usual Link Summoning conditions as Fusion conditions instead, and since she no longer has Link markers and now has Defense Points, I tried to balance her out by making it so her effect works on the two spaces on either side of her. Since this is essentially a replica card, I figured it was okay to use the official Rainbow art as the artwork here, since I'm pretending the Link version doesn't exist. I also have a Synchro version of Moonbow, which I've tried to do something similar with.

The text didn't fully appear on the card. Sorry about that.

I admit this one may be a bit overpowered... If you think I should change it, please let me know. (I made this with several Fusion monsters in mind, because fused weather conditions as well as blended colors are such a cool thing to play with and I really think the Weather Painters deserve to have an amazing palette of colors; that's why it says 2 or more, despite Rainbow actually having 3 as a summoning condition.)

(I also made a custom version of The Weather Forecast, but only so that it mentions Extra Deck "The Weather" Monsters instead of just Link ones.)

These are all the cards I'm most comfortable sharing. I have maybe two more I'd be willing to share, too, but they're support cards and may also make the deck overpowered (since I made them a long time ago) so I decided against revealing them.

If you're okay with these, please let me know. I've been craving someone to share these with for a long, long time.

[peach-pops]

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete) 

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ??? 

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day) 

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!” 

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE. 

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!” 

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”  

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.” 

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!” 

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!” 

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!” 

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is 

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you 

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!” 

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear 

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing) 

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular. 

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie 

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend 

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two 

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!” 

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool 

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play. 

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat 

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth 

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and  records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS 

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?” 

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!” 

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi 

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time 

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?” 

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?” 

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I- 

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set 

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy 

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl 

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-” 

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

 If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?” 

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?” 

“ BABE?!” 

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence 

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?” 

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?” 

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?” 

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

 honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it 

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that 

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you 

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!” 

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream 

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you 

[genesisrose74]

Believe It, Baby

AHH HELLO I LIVE!! I am so sorry about my lack of publishing content besides some general community posts as of late - I’ve probably said this before but school is a buttface sometimes :// I’ve been really enjoying the new episodes of Haikyuu so I decided to finish a self indulgent fic to try getting back on track! Kinda like how it worked out so here it is!! Yes, it is Hinata again, how did you freaking know???

Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Fem!Reader

Words: 2122

*******

“I don’t believe it for a damn second.”

The ginger under scrutiny groans for what seemed the eighth time that day, shooting his friend an exasperated look as they walk into the practice gym. “I swear, Kageyama! She’s in the college preparatory class with Yachi!”

At this, said blonde turns her attention to the entering duo with a curious tilt of her head.

“What’s this about someone in my class?” she inquires politely.

Kageyama glances at Yachi. “Hinata says that he’s dating one of your classmates, which I say is a bunch of crap.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Bakageyama? I’m her boyfriend!”

Tsukishima scoffs from across the gym.

“Sounds like someone had too vivid of a dream last night,” he jeers, Yamaguchi snickering beside him.

Even Tanaka and Noya doesn’t seem to believe the aspiring ace, the former clapping a hand on Hinata’s shoulder with a philosopher’s air about him.

“It’s alright to be single, little man. You don’t gotta go and make something up to look cool.”

Hinata huffs before shuffling to set up the court for practice, while Sugawara takes his position as mother crow by smacking the troublemaker second years upside the head.

“I for one believe you, Hinata,” the silver haired setter declares, smiling when the first year boy beams with happiness.

“Thank you, Suga-senpai! At least someone here does.”

“Mind telling us what she’s like?” Daichi chimes in.

Hinata’s grin blossoms even wider, and his gaze turns excited. “She’s amazing, and really smart, and super competitive! And she’s...also really pretty…” he trails off in embarrassment.

Suga gushes at his flustered state, ruffling his kouhai’s mop of orange hair. “Look at you, all affectionate. She must be special.”

Yachi follows up with a nod of agreement at Sugawara’s statement, joining Hinata on the court for set up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s her name?” the manager in training questions.

When the middle blocker tells her proudly, the remaining first year boys all bust out in laughter.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Yamaguchi guffaws. “Isn’t she like one of the smartest students in our grade?”

Hinata nods affirmatively, and Tsukishima shakes his head with a dry laugh. “Try picking a more believable person next time, Hinata. There’s barely even a chance that you’ve ever crossed paths with her before, let alone dated the girl.”

Yachi, on the other hand, takes a moment to ponder on Hinata’s words, not even close to giggling like the rest of her fellow first years.

“You know,” she mumbles to herself, “that’s honestly not that far of a stretch, considering how outgoing she is.”

The orange haired boy offers her a weary half-smile for at least thinking he had a shot with who he claimed, but made no further attempt to emphasize that he was in fact dating said girl. It was clear that nearly none of the team would believe him without solid proof.

Coach Ukai grabs the team’s attention, and from then on leads a rotation of digging drills to help improve everyone’s foundational abilities. This format of training continues for most of practice, such routines making it easier for some of the boys (namely Tsukishima) to laugh about Hinata’s “attempt'' at having a girlfriend in line. Said middle blocker remains in a pouty mood due to such circumstances, but decides to keep it quiet for the time being - lest he dig a bigger hole in which his teammates could tease him.

Soon enough, practice for the day is over, and the Karasuno boys organize their things in the club room before filtering outside. As Hinata waits outside for the rest of his team to come downstairs, the whole team planning on making a stop at Ukai’s store, his phone screen lights up with a soft chime.

Hi sunshine! Did your practice just finish?

The first year smiles, knowing that you must have snuck him a text during your student council meeting, and quickly opens his phone to type something back.

Hi angel!! Yeah, we’re gonna get something at Ukai’s rn

Hinata playfully raises an eyebrow at your fast response, the chat bubble popping up right away. Usually you’re pretty invested in your club meetings, so today’s must be a pretty boring topic.

Wanna save me a meat bun pretty please 🥺

If there’s an extra I will <3

:D hehe thank u love

Tanaka’s voice breaks the ginger’s focus from his texts, the second year shouting about food as he ushers the team towards the school exit. Hinata tosses his phone into his practice bag and catches up with the walking group, his mood significantly improved from just minutes ago.

*****

The town is basked in the soft glow of street lights as the team makes their way down the hill to Ukai’s, currently unaware of a presence in a sprint to get to them.

Your fellow Student Council members had shot a bewildered look in your direction as you scrambled to pack up and hustle out the classroom door. You ushered a quick goodbye to them before stuffing your phone in your skirt pocket, determined to surprise your boyfriend after the council meeting ended early.

Maybe you were starting to regret the idea of running in the god-awful flats Karasuno High enforced in their dress code, but you pushed past the irritation in favor of keeping pace. That meat bun wouldn’t stay hot forever, you reasoned, but in reality the opportunity to see your shining boyfriend truly drove your motivation.

After finally getting a glimpse of a large group near the base of the hill, a spark of victory flames in your heaving chest at your persistence. With a heavy sigh, however, you realize that your competitive ball of energy was likely at the head of the bunch, racing that setter with whom he always argues. Your plight was not over yet.

So, attempting to reign in your eagerness to see the ginger haired boy of your affections, you continue the path down the quite steep hill, this time using the art of determined speed walking. The soles of those forsaken flats on your feet would not be forgiving if you started running again, anyways.

When you finally manage to close in on the team, Sugawara is the first to notice you, observing for a moment before nudging Daichi on his right. The Karasuno captain looks confusedly at his vice captain, the latter’s eyes holding a parent-like intuition.

“I think that’s her,” the silver haired third year murmurs, nodding his head in your direction as you make your way closer.

“Who’s her?” Daichi whispers back, and Suga looks like he’s about to karate chop him in the side.

“Hinata’s girlfriend, Dai!” he hisses. “Look at who she’s focused on.”

Daichi follows your gaze to find the little decoy first year at the end of it, causing him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. “So he really wasn’t pulling Kageyama’s leg.”

The two third years of Karasuno watch you with great interest as you inch your way to the front of their group, more of the boys taking note of your presence with the passing moments.

The only few who don’t seem to notice are the gaggle of first years in the front, many of whom are bickering with each other. Yachi is the only one in your grade to see you as she walks beside Kiyoko, and you give her a small wave before putting a finger to your lips. All she can do in response is nod, mouth slightly agape at the fact that you even acknowledged her in the midst of your pursuits.

“-If there’s an extra bun in the bag today I call dibs!”

“And since when have I ever listened to you, pipsqueak?”

“Who’re you calling pipsqueak, you giraffe!?”

You have to conceal your chuckle at the group’s antics. You’d been told a handful about the first years known as Hinata’s teammates, but had yet to formally meet them due to your consistently busy schedule. Today, you felt it was about time for that to change.

Yamaguchi picks up on you, followed quickly by Tsukkishima when his freckle-faced best friend notifies him with a tap on the shoulder. Even Kageyama, who somehow managed to get into yet another argument with Hinata, slows his banter as he gazes at you, completely bewildered.

The last person left in the dark is - of course - none other than your dumbass of a boyfriend.

“Why did you get so quiet all of a sudden?” the aspiring ace inquires. “It’s ‘cause you realized that I would win the argument anyways, huh?”

The boy jumps when he feels you sidle up next to him, brushing your arm against his own.

“Yes, sunshine, that’s surely the reason.”

The first year whips his head to face your playful smirk, before practically launching himself into you and trapping you in a bear hug.

“You surprised me!” he exclaims with a giddish grin, nuzzling into your figure.

“That was kind of my plan,” you laugh. “Student council meeting ended early, so here I am.”

Hinata didn’t seem to want to let go of you any time soon, so you resorted to taking his face in your hands and pecking his cheeks.

“You gonna introduce me or not, silly?”

The middle blocker was blushing like crazy at this point, reddening with the realization that his entire team was a current audience to the little show taking place.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he gestures to you awkwardly, and you couldn’t hide the small smile that curls on your lips. “You’ve probably seen her with the Student Council before.”

You wave enthusiastically to the team, many of whom are still recovering from the newly confirmed discovery (namely, some very skeptical first years).

“So, he wasn’t joking?” Yamaguchi spoke up, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Aw yeah, Hinata!” Tanaka whistled, “Sorry that I ever underestimated you!”

“Good job, Shoyo!” Nishinoya affirms, jumping on his second year best friend in excitement. “She’s a cutie too!”

The first year squeezes your midsection tighter to your surprise, seeing as his face was practically steaming from previous team comments.

“She is cute,” he mumbles, and the unexpected statement elicits a laugh from your lips.

You tap the ginger’s nose playfully, bringing his attention to your content smile. The sight of it causes him to grin right back giddily, momentarily forgetting the larger group beside him once more. “Saved me a meat bun, Sho?”

He was like this whenever at the other’s house or on a date: mushy, cuddly, affectionate, the whole nine yards of fluffiness. Public spaces involving acquaintances, however, was a bit of a different story, as Hinata got very easily flustered in front of teasing friends. Even without meeting the other team members of Karasuno before, it was quite obvious.

“I always manage to when you ask,” he responds proudly, although a faint frown briefly appears on his features for a moment, “but Tsukishima’s being a bit of a jerk about it today.”

The blond in question sends his fellow middle blocker a look of annoyance, before his expression melts into a cheshire grin as he turns to you.

“Just didn’t want him eating too much, that’s all,” he explains. “Overindulgence isn’t a great habit for athletes, you know. But since you’re actually here and not a figment of Hinata’s imagination, that’s absolutely fine with me.”

“Hey! You saying I’m a pig or something?” the first year pipes up with a glare.

Tsukki smirks. “Or something.”

Sugawara steps in to lessen the obvious tensions between your feral ginger and the smug beanpole, giving them both a deathly glare that practically screamed, ‘don’t make me whoop your asses in front of a student council member’.

You giggled at the team’s dynamic, one that clearly resembled a rambunctious family on their nightly outing together. It really was just as you had imagined the first time your boyfriend described it to you - with maybe a bit more emphasis on the rambunctious than you had previously inferred. But it was actually quite enjoyable to be around.

As the group finally started on their way again after your surprise introduction, Hinata came up beside you once more with a curious glint in his eyes.

“What are you smiling all giddishly about?” he inquires, head tilted a fraction.

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at the question. “I just really enjoy being around your team is all.”

The aspiring ace of Karasuno interlocks his fingers with yours as you stroll along together down the street, his teammates in tow as they observe the situation before them with some remaining bewilderment.

“Good, cause I think they might like you too.”

[lostlitany]

ANOTHER!

7: Were there any ideas you had for "Damn Straight Gay" that you couldn’t make work? What were they?

11: Which OC of yours do you think is the most similar to you? Which OC is the most different? Why?

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

Ayyyy another~!! This got pretty heckin’ long soooo

7. Damn Straight Gay ideas that couldn’t work

I’ve long since deleted my draft doc for that fic, but I remember there were a bunch of scenes I had planned out that never made it to the final cut. I had originally planned for the chapters to switch perspectives back and forth between Bakugou and Kirishima- but I wrote the first two chapters from Bakugou’s point of view and ended up deciding to keep the whole fic like that.

Obviously with the deletion of Kiri’s POV, there comes the loss of all the dates he and what’s her face were supposed to go on (what did I even name that extra? Like Yuuna or something? Idr). Either way, Kiri’s chapters we’re supposed to center around the actual relationship and the growing toxicity between the two of them. I imagined they would go places and Kirishima would keep bringing up going to those places with Bakugou, which is why we see a lot of Bakugou reminiscing throughout the story. I wanted the story to have Bakugou or Kirishima reminiscing about their past, through either Bakugou’s moping, or Kirishima’s dates, and for that to be kinda solemn and off, and then kinda re-envision those same areas with the two of them being awkward around each other and regretting the breakup.

Another big thing that got scrapped was that I had actually originally planned for Yuuna and Bakugou to meet! I wanted them to hate each other immediately- Bakugou of course would’ve played cordial because he’s a simp for Ei, but Yuuna was going to act more along the lines of “I don’t like you hanging out with him- you should stop talking to him for me”

But, without writing the dates, there really was no need for Yuuna to have an onscreen character. So I kept her separate from Bakugou and all we know about the toxic girlfriend is what Bakugou hears from other people who have met her.

I think it worked better because the story was meant to be focused on Bakugou and Kirishima’s relationship, and having Yuuna like actually around and present may have distracted from the boy’s relationship and put more spotlight on her relationship with Kirishima- So I think it’s a good thing I ended up scrapping so much. It made for a better structured story-

11. Which OC is most similar / different - Why?

So as far as my published work goes, the only OCs I think I really have- are Kirishima’s family. And I definitely haven’t really written enough of them to say much more than I’m most like Satori, the badass mom who teases Kirishima the whole time Bakugou’s over- and I’m least like Mei, the pleasant, sunshine and rainbows cutesy type who giggles warmly at her family’s antics and enjoys sitting back and watching the show.

Just to be obnoxious and not answer the question properly- I will also say this because my characterizations are based off of cannon, but are decidedly not- I am most similar to the way I write Bakugou and least similar to the way I write Kirishima. In both Damn Gay and The Exception, Bakugou and his situation have been practically directly ripped from my life. Some of the words exchanged between him and other characters are real conversations I’ve had with different friends and acquaintances. Kirishima on the other hand, is vastly different. His characterization has been a mixture of my three best friends over the years- and one very special detail that I force onto him that quite a few other authors don’t- is that I make him quite easily manipulated. In Damn Gay he gets caught up in a toxic relationship and gives up everything he actually cares about to force himself to life with this girl that he only got with once Mina accidentally convinced him to move on from Bakugou. In The Exception the same thing happens where he finds something that makes him happy, a couple things go wrong, and he easily leaves Bakugou behind when Mina suggests it. In cannon, I think despite his doubts towards himself, he’s a lot more sure of his friends. But in my portrayal of him, he’s a lot less weak willed when it comes to bumps in his relationships and friendships. I write Kirishima as an easily influenced ray of sunshine who aims to please people, and as soon as things start to go south, he shuts himself up and drowns out his own thoughts, turning to other people around him to make harder decisions for him because he doesn’t trust himself to do it. This is in contrast to Bakugou who makes stupid decisions and jumps to moronic conclusions all on his own, who when things get tough, jumps at the opportunity to push through it as fast as possible just to get over it and get past all the emotions, thoughts, and feelings that would otherwise hold him down. Kiri dwells on it much longer and drags those rough moments out inadvertently, by waiting for his problems to go away on their own.

22. Writing advice for beginners of writing or posting

New writers- Write what you want to read. As I’ve said before I have a whole plethora of OCs that I’ve created and written stories for. I made characters and relationships to fill in my own self indulgent fantasies, and that got me hooked. I wrote for myself and that was it. I wasn’t planning on posting it anywhere, I was too embarrassed to show my friends, I wasn’t aiming to please anyone. I wrote forced story plots and 2 dimensional characters that made me happy. It established writing as a fun pastime in my head. If you go into this looking for follows and kudos and comments, it’s going to get very depressing very fast, and you’re most likely going to stop before you even get started. So ignore the world. Write for you first, and when you figure out how to make you happy, then start writing for real. If you want that shot of straight serotonin that comes from constructive feedback- bug me. Text me. Email me. DM me. Idk. Find me and share with me what you’ve written. We all have to start somewhere and building a solid foundation on your own can be very difficult. If this is something that you want to really do, I’m no professional, but I want to help. Write for you, then find a beta, or a friend. Someone who can gush over your characters and such with you. Create a strong link between writing and happiness in your brain. Hack your mind to make writing fun and rewarding, so later down the line when you’re good enough to get hate, it can’t affect you.

New posters- Don’t doubt what you’ve made. There are 7 billion people on this planet. If you’ve written something really niche and small and overly self indulgent and you think nobody else is going to like it- remember the phrase one in a million. If you are one in a million, there are 700 other people out there like you. That self indulgent fic that you wrote specifically for you? Post it. Because there may be 700 other people looking for exactly that. You never know what people are looking for. You never know what people are willing to try out. 50 Shades of Grey was a fanfiction.......

Are they not part of a fandom? Are they your original characters? Cool, Steven Universe is filled of original characters. So is Avatar. Oh! And My Hero. Every fandom started off as a collection of Original Characters. I’ll read about your kids if you’ll read about mine.

[narnianselfships]

liam!! do you want to talk about neji for a bit because id love to hear it >:3 do you have any headcanons about your selfship with him?? (general, fluff, how you met, whatever you want to talk about!!) - fawnships 🥰

ASJSGSHSHSN, THANK YOU FOR THE OPPORTUNITY TO GUSH!! This is going to be so much I'm so sorry.

Ok, I think I'll start off with how I met him. It's pretty simple, I met him because I'm a member of Team Gai. I know there are usually only three people in the teams in Naruto. But I love literally every character in Team Gai so much! Fuck the rules of canon, I'm gonna be self indulgent!

I always see posts with headcanons of what different Naruto characters would be like.in relationships saying that Neji isn't very affectionate, or that he wouldn't use petnames at all! I SAY FUCK THAT!! Sure, he isn't the cuddliest guy in the word, and pda definitely isn't his thing. But he's definitely not apposed to it. He's actually quite actively affectionate when we're alone or with people we're close with.

And petnames!! He definitely uses those. And just so casually that it makes me so flustered. Cute, romantic ones like: darling, dear, love, MY love, sweetheart, etc.

But like... When this man first realized he had feelings for me, he freaked out. He's not very good with emotions and he was like "Aajhshshsjsgjsheksj, WHATTT??????". Just, is so overwhelmed and confused and he has to turn to Tenten for help, because he has so idea what he's doing. He as no experience with romantic feelings for someone. He's never had them before.

Neji just gets flustered so easily before while dealing with the feelings before we get together and he just, malfunctions whenever he's around me. He does his best to act like his ordinary calm and composed self. But every so often, when I do something he finds particularly adorable, he needs to talk a minute to walk away and freak out, his face turning bright red and he covers his mouth to muffle incoherent sounds of just... Freaking out because he's just so in love and he still has no clue what he's gonna do about it.

Also, Neji is probably the only f/o I've considered making a fankid for. I've never really been the type of person to want kids, just in general. I've never watched Boruto, but seeing everyone with kids and married and shit makes me want to have that life with Neji. Adopting a kid and just being husbands!!

Also have some little headcanons. I've been gushing for maybe a little too long, but here ya go!:

Tenten and Lee are the first to find out about our relationship. And they are both so incredibly supportive, they're both such good friends!! 🥺🥺🥺

On missions when the obligatory "Ok, let's split up." happens, we always find an excuse to go together.

Neji just sitting on the couch, reading a book. But I'm in his lap being extremely clingy and cuddling close to him. And we'll just sit like that for long periods of time. Maybe he'll even read to me, which is so good!!

On rainy days, just laying with each other in comfortable silence. We cuddle and fall asleep to the sound of the rain.

Me giving him many forehead kisses! Because he is very insecure about his curse mark, and I need to show him that he is perfect no matter what and I love him unconditionally!!

Him kissing, or just complimenting parts of me that he knows I'M insecure about. Because he knows I'm insecure about a lot of things. And he isn't bothered by giving me the validation that I need.

[jcmorgenstern]

"#hey where's the fic where chaotic bisexuals jace and clary are in a relationship with clary's estranged brother's foster mom#literally lease my crops are DYING i NEED cougar lilith i NEED#(mundane AU 20k rated M or E) #im gonna have to write it myself arent i" // perhaps Lilith is beside herself over Jonathan leaving, and this is a chance to feel closer to him through people important to him. perhaps I love this idea.

tags from this post (thank you anon!!! i went a little fucking crazy and wrote this which is entirely unedited.....rip in pieces)

It had been a year and a half since she had seen Jonathan last. He had been hers in all the ways that mattered (but never flesh and blood) until he wasn’t, a stabilizing weight by her side cut loose. Sudden as that, she was in freefall. A prestigious editorship at a major fashion magazine turned to ball and chain, the envied life of a socialite the vanity of a mere woman, a luxurious New York loft to the dreaded empty nest. At her third strong drink in an evening, she could feel the thin coat of dust layering her womb, a mausoleum. Her son and one frivolous argument too many did what scores of small men had tried and failed to do.

On balance, she supposed she ought to proud it took her this long for the bland Promethean cycle of waking-working-talking-eating-sleeping-repeat to wear her down, and ashamed she gave in at all. A good mother, she knew, would never be caught where she is now--standing out in an ill-fitting tinsel dress she wouldn’t have been caught dead in two years ago, avoiding the eyes of men too young for her (beneath her) in favor of one in particular.

I only want to look, she’d told herself as she’d scrabbled at the bottom of her purse (Himalaya Birkin, years out of style, a metaphor dangling in crocodile skin off her arm) for her keys. Just to see. Get close. Watch.

It had been complete coincidence that she’d found out about the art exhibit in the first place. An invite to a wretched student affair from a once-great school grasping for relevance in the cynical age of the internet stuffed in with her morning mail delivery, ordinarily not worth a second more of her attention than it took to sweep it into the trash. The name was what caught her attention, an instinctive flash in the pan--Fairchild.

He didn’t go by Fairchild, of course. He was a man, and why would a man wear anything but the name of another man? At the threshold of adulthood, Jonathan shed the vile name of the woman who had given him up in favor of a ghost of a father. Her own, she realized now, had never been in the running. And so he called himself Morgenstern, an ugly name sealing him off from her like foreign territory. Morgenstern had a terrible finality to it.

She didn’t answer a single email or call the rest of the morning, snapping at any EA foolhardy enough to raise a word against her. By noon, she knew the girl and her boyfriend from smiling model pictures on Instagram, incomplete snippets of life from Facebook and Twitter. The wordless temptation finally had a face and a name and an achingly familiar mane of red hair. Fairchild was the name of his sister by blood, the girl for whom his birth mother had scraped together enough love to keep.

She picked the weaker link first--the blond. Men gave themselves away more easily than women, basking in every oozing ounce of attention. She took his measure in-between smiles and small conversations, observing him over the shoulders of conversational partners she took no interest in. Well-built, handsome, artfully disarranged hair, a James Dean sort of affable. The type girls wished for long after he’d moved on from her entirely. She could see him in the glossy pages of a fashion magazine and allowed herself to hate him, dip the fashionable one syllable of his white-hipster name in poison. Jace.

The second hour she allowed herself closer, indulged in scratching the surface. Uncomfortable in worn jeans and leather jacket surrounded by talk of Bosch, Mondrian, Xiaodong, he was here for his girlfriend, treading water in the art world to lend her a familiar face. He flirted with the girl at the bar more out of obligation than interest, reading off his come here often? lines stiff and atonal. By the time she drifted up beside him at the bar, she had given him enough nuance she could have convinced herself to like him.

“I don’t suppose you could get me one of those?”

It came out easy, like slipping into clothes from another life. Her first job as waitress faking pretty rouged smiles through propositions and comments and ass-pinches, or her first magazine internship weathering the same. He was drinking beer, and she couldn’t stand beer, but men had a peculiar weakness for women who drank their own kinds of drink.

He turned, bemusement turning to something else as she deliberately met his gaze. He was lovely up close, and all in a dizzying rush she felt the barest spark of that indescribable satisfaction she’d been chasing, found the ghost of Jonathan’s angular features in the broader contours of his face. His too-polite smile broke the spell. “I’d love to, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.”

The waitress smile slipped off. Put him in his place. “It just seems you’re the only one who can get any service around here.”

His smile turned instantly sheepish. “Oh, uh--sorry.” A quick word with the bartender, and soon she had her very own mug of alcoholic piss. He visibly cast about for a line of conversation, and it raised her ire that she couldn’t tell if he did it out of flirtation or pity. “Are you with the gallery?”

“Oh, no. I’m with Poise magazine. We like to browse local shows for rising talent. Keeps us fresh.” She gave a half-flicker of lash at fresh. The cover story was self-indulgent--the answer she gave only mattered to herself. She wasn’t searching for her son where she knew he wouldn’t be found. The flirtation was by rote. “Are you an artist? We’re always doing submission intake.”

It was an old and familiar lie. General licensure was the best any hopeful would get without prior connections.

“Me? No way.” He was warming up to her, rising to her charm like a snake from a basket. How old was he? He couldn’t even be half her age. “Clar--my girlfriend, she’s the artist. I’m here for her.”

For her, not with her. There was a distinction. She cued up the smile she used for interviews. “That’s lovely. What kind of artist?”

“A painter.” For a second, Jace’s expression was almost shy. “She landed the art school gig, but her mom taught her. It’s kind of her last connection to her, you know? Painting keeps her mom alive.”

The enormity of his statement quavered between them like a note from a tuning fork struck on an edge. She felt her expression flicker and melt like wax--Jocelyn was dead. Was it cancer, murder, a hit-and-run? Half-thoughts spooled out in her imagination, part vindictive and part lurid. Did he know? Did he think of her the day he learned she was dead, wish for her to put her arms around him and let him cry into her? She savored the imaginary heat of his short, hitched exhales on her neck, the precious hot droplets of salt falling on her skin.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m an ass,” Jace was babbling. “Did you--have you lost a parent too?”

For a moment, she could have laughed at him. Her father was buried, her mother entombed in a home somewhere conveniently out of mind. With a strange, electric jolt she realized he had assigned her fallen expression to the closest thing at hand, unbiased by that all-encompassing occupation: mother. A mother must have lost a child; a person could lose a parent a lover or a friend. It had been so very long since she’d been seen as anything but.

“Jace! JaceJaceJace--there you are!”

A mess of red-gold curls bounded by her to plant a messy wet kiss to Jace’s cheek. They kissed, young dewy-skinned and unabashed, and she watched with a feeling unlike Jonathan creeping on the edge of her thoughts. Jace broke away first, pulling her back into conversation. “This is, uh, Clary. Clary, this is--” he broke off, embarrassed.

Clary spluttered in the middle of knocking back the last of a sidecar, whipping around to stare at her with something wide-eyed and akin to wonder. “Don’t you--? Don’t you know who she is? Editor at Poise? The Lilith?”

“Not exactly,” Jace admitted.

Clary paid him no mind, cocktail glass immediately moored at the bar. She looked up at her and once she saw past the stars winking in the girl’s eyes, she could see they were the same soft hazel as her brother’s. Clary was drunk, and brimming with it from her ugly artistic blouse to her blunt art-student-lesbian bangs to the untamed curl of her hair. “It’s really you,” she gushed. “I’ve been following your blog forever, and your twitter--I’m being so embarrassing, aren’t I? Can I...can I have a picture?”

Lilith disliked her with a magnetism that pulled the girl in close, letting Clary slip an arm around her waist and hold up a phone too big for her small, delicate-boned hands. In the phone’s screen she could see herself frozen in real time, her red lips lifting in a waxen smile. Next to the peach-fuzz facewash-clean of Clary’s skin, her fashionable makeup and Oscar de la Renta dress looked old and severe, black and gold metals oozing out of her like a snake shedding skin.

“You were my first-ever crush,” Clary was saying with tipsy candor, and with a strange bump Lilith realized Clary was talking to her, not her boyfriend. Her words rushed out in a graceless rush, difficult to make out over the music and wordless chatter drowning her in a dull roar. “I’d spend hours cutting out your photoshoots from magazines, making collages--it drove mom crazy, all those internalized gender roles and whatever. She realized later I just thought you were really hot.”

The full blushing import of Clary’s words hit them all at once and Clary flushed a blotchy pink all the way to the roots of her hair and touched her free hand to her cheek. “Oh my god, I’m fucking drunk.”

Lilith became suddenly aware her hand was still on Clary’s warm waist, trapped under her arm. This was all unscripted, unrehearsed; she felt as flustered as Clary looked, thrown off by the noise and the heat and the alcohol she hadn’t even drank. She was wearing perfume, something cheap and cloying, and in a strange moment Lilith could imagine Clary spread out over a glossy page, slim peachy legs and delicate collarbones bold and daring out from under the heavy drape of a dark dress.

She reached for something cutting to take the girl down to size, but what came out instead was a genteel, “That’s very flattering.”

Clary gave her a pinched little smile in return, the very pink tip of her tongue darting over her bottom lip, and her blush did not abate. Lilith looked to Jace, who was looking between them with something uncertain in his eyes.

A strange, smouldering sensation had risen in her chest, thick and suffocating as a plume of smoke. Her hand did not so much as tremble when she raised a hand to tuck away a stray curl, the color so much lighter when it caught the light. Clary’s face swam before her eyes, raw and pink from crying over her dead mother.

“You’re very sweet,” she said, and there was a husky quality to her voice that only came on with one or two glasses of red wine. Her heart was pounding out a dull, insistent throb rising in time with a painful lump in her throat.

Her phone vibrated in her bag, breaking the spell with a start. She pulled away to relieve the sudden alcoholic flush and dug into her bag with utter disregard for her nails, feeling for the familiar cool rectangle of her phone. When at last she managed to disentangle herself citing creative emergencies needing her immediate attention and a whole host of familiar excuses, it was only then she realized on habit she’d given Clary her card.

The taxi ride back to her apartment was blissfully silent, dark except for the rising crests of light along the near-silent streets. Her own face hovered ghostly in the window, close enough to touch. Her fingertips met glass with a flash of red-gold and her eyes seared with a sudden heat, the ache in her sternum widening.

Her thoughts lingered on him as she greeted the front desk clerk, beside her in physical form in the elevator, hovering at the margins like a melancholy raincloud as she launched into her nighttime routine. Squalane cleanser to remove makeup, wash face before an exfoliant chemical blend, a layer of hydralaunic acid and then niacinamide to hydrate, an retinol under-eye cream to top it all off. The ritual grip of her thoughts relinquished only once she’d folded herself under the covers in her nightclothes, receding as she fell into the uneasy lull of sleep.

This time, the thought of him was mixed with traces of red and gold.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

RPing and me

This is gonna be a vent post about something that happened today, and it gets into stuff that happened in the past, so if you don’t care about that, don’t read.

As I’ve alluded to in a few past posts, I have an RPing background (it’s where my typing style came from, heheh XD). I used to RP all the flipping time when I was a teenager, and was a part of many groups over the years, RPing characters in a few different fandoms. But, after a certain incident, that I’ll get into later, I....haven’t done it in years. I was super discouraged to, and....kinda afraid to, to be honest. I-I know it sounds stupid, but....yeah.

But recently, thanks to the Discord server I’ve endlessly gushed about, I’ve been kinda easing myself back into it.....m-mainly for indulgence purposes, sure, but that’s kinda the point of the server.....And I’ve even become interested in diving into the stuff....I, er, never tried before....And so far, I’ve had a pretty good time. They’re not serious RPs, and usually they aren’t all that long, but the fact that my new friends are willing to....i-indulge me like that, even a little....m-makes me very happy.....>/////<

So, last night, a friend on Discord had started an RP with me. And.....it was getting really good....like, it was going in a direction that I really....was excited about. But.....then, they stopped it. All of a sudden, with no warning....they gave a reason for it, and sounded really sincere, so I’m not mad at them at all, but....it still stung. Getting excited over something and then very suddenly being let down has aaaalways been a weakness of mine.....and with this in particular....I cried. I actually, physically cried. And I immediately hated myself for it. I began beating on myself for overreacting, which led to me blaming myself for.....pretty much everything. I thought that maybe they were lying, maybe it was because of ME. Like, I was just THAT boring.

It led to a downward spiral of self-loathing that I vented to everyone about, and they thankfully helped me feel better, but.....geez, what a way for that to happen. What a stupid flipping thing to be the catalyst for a breakdown, right? XD

Well....it also reminded me of why I stopped RPing. Because I was scared of stuff like this. Not just RPs I like being dropped, but me reacting like THAT. I know all too well about being so invested in an RP, the feelings for a character being so overwhelmingly strong that you just want it to keep going, and then everything screeching to a halt so fast that you can practically hear a record scratch in the background.....and then finding out that you were the only one having fun.

The last RP group I was in, when I was 17-18....I won’t give away the fandom or the website cuz I wanna keep details vague, just in case some of the people somehow ended up here....I was absolutely in love with this group, and the story we had created. I spent so many nights with them, RPing or even just talking OOC. We even had a nice schedule where we would RP on a specific three nights of the week. The story was really intense and emotional, and it had took many exciting turns over the year....My OC even ended up in a relationship with the character I was crushing on, and I didn’t even ask for it, it just happened. Sometimes, people would plan out stuff around my character without me to leave me in suspense, and it worked every single time. So, naturally, I was very very content with everything. But then, people started to drift....at first, I thought it was because of school and other IRL stuff, and didn’t think much of it, but THEN....after about a year of fun times....

The mods came to a decision to.....restart the RP from scratch. It was completely outta nowhere, and naturally, I....didn’t respond too well. I BROKE DOWN. I asked, over and over, why, why would you do this, why would you erase everything we’ve built, why would you act like it never happened, there’s gotta be another way to renew interest that DOESN’T involve that.....And the answers I got just made it worse.

To put it simply: People were unhappy with the way things were going. Things had become too dark and dramatic, and they wanted things to be more lighthearted. To rub salt in the wound, everyone else was perfectly fine with this RP reset, despite the fact that it would be leaving the old RP ending on a cliffhanger. It was just ME who was freaking out.

That’s when it hit me that.....yeah, I was the only one who was still having fun.

I....took that part pretty hard. I began thinking back to everything that happened, evaluating the way everyone acted, looking for ANY signs that I should’ve noticed sooner....I recalled a couple instances of me expressing interest in certain plots....and distaste in certain others. I recalled me saying things like “I don’t like that” and thinking it was fine for me to say that because I wasn’t explicitly ASKING them not to do it. I recalled a few times where I would act out or have a meltdown when an RP session would get cancelled. I recalled a few times where an RPer would quit and only come back if certain things became closer to canon, and me making passive aggressive comments toward them....

And I realized.....the problem was me. The reason no one was having fun anymore was me. The reason everything had to be reset was because of me. Everyone had done so much to make me happy, and I hadn’t even considered thinking about how they felt. I had only thought about what I wanted. And the more things went my way, the more invested I got....Everyone was too nice to tell me I was acting like a spoiled brat.

I tried to keep going after the reset, but couldn’t do it. Not only did it leave a sour taste in my mouth, but there were a crapload of new rules put in place (some of which that I just plain didn’t agree with) that ensured the story wouldn’t go to a dark place (which, again, I had liked) again.

And....ever since then, I....I really started checking and double-checking myself for manipulative behaviors. I was even told by someone that it sounded like I was “manipulating” everyone, and having that said to me really hurt. It was never my intention, but....was I really a manipulative person? Was I really.....selfishly forcing people to pay attention to me? Because I got too invested in the RP?...

So...that’s why I never joined another group. Finding out that I basically ruined my last one and I didn’t find out until it was too late hurt too much....There were TIMES I’d try again, but it always had me thinking, over and over, “How does the other person feel? Are they having as much fun as me?” and feeling guilty whenever I’d get invested because of that.

I never want any RP partners to feel bored or uncomfortable with me ever again....Put those worries together with my usual low self-esteem, and....yeah.

Getting back into RPing recently has been good for the most part, but....Now and then, I get reminded of the things that made me stop. The worries of bothering people, of not feeling like I’m worth anyone’s time, of not wanting them to deal with my crap...of people getting sick of me......of not wanting things like that to happen again.....

Last night, I got reminded of the person I used to be, who had gotten so addicted to RPing that she no longer considered that the people she was playing with were actual people with feelings.

I never wanna become that person again.

At least I learned from that experience. I’ll give myself that much.

[polar-stars]

The Overlooked Princess

[Hey, I was able to finish the little fic I was talking about! :D So here it is, a smol, little Next-Gen Ship AU story //throws confetti//

So this is one of my millions of Royalty AUs, one in which pretty much every named character is Royalty. It’s also about ShigeChi (but a bit more about Chieko in general). It’s also a rewritten version of this little snippet here -> https://polar-stars.tumblr.com/post/182306453441/but-just-in-case-you-meant-your-next-gen-alone

It basically has a little more exposition now and Shigeo and Chieko also actually talk a bit more in this one. 

I began this little one-shot a few days ago at a time where I was just really sad for no reason?? Like I just woke up and was like: “Everything sucks”, so this fic was basically me cheering myself up (even tho I couldn’t finish it on that day)

I thought this would be another work for the famous: “Lea’s-Self-Indulgent-Nonsense-Folder”, but seeing as ShigeChi seems to have quite the surprising popularity, it may not even be as self-indulgent as I initially thought .... O.O

Anyways with all my chattery out of the way, here it is:]

Today was the night that everyone awaited throughout the entire remaining year. The night of the Grand Royal Ball. Hosted by the Emperor and Empress of the grand Empire Divina this yearly ball was meant to be the one night where all the royal houses of the many different countries around Divina met in peace. It was without a doubt the highlight of the year and promised not only fun but also many opportunities for negotiations or possible alliances. It was only natural for a royal to look forward to it. Princess Chieko’s mother Queen Yuki Marui of Scientia always made a great fuss out of it as soon as the invitation arrived. Excitedly the woman would rush into each and every room of the palace loudly announcing the invitation’s arrival. Then she would already start thinking about which dresses to wear, which hairstyles would impress the other Royals the most and how much jewellery would be considered too much. Chieko’s father, King Zenji Marui of Scientia, mostly considered the ball a chance to get some negotiation done and when lucky having a talk with some of the other intellectuals. Although not as enthusiastic about it as his wife, it still always brought a smile on his face when watching her spin around the house in excitement. Chieko’s little brother, Prince Takahiro Marui of Scientia, always showed excitement for the ball and spent his time there with spending time with some of the other young royals, namely his best friend the stoic princess of Pacem, Kasumi Ibusaki. And Chieko? There was a time where she had been just as glad to go as the rest of her family. But with time passing her enthusiasm has faded with each year. She did not hate the ball. Not at all. It was still a joy to enter the beautiful, out-of-this-world palace of the Empire. The food served on this occasion was still beyond delicate. She still got to meet her friends from other countries. But at the same time Chieko felt how she got outshined by everyone on this ball. Usually she ended up spending the entire night on the sides, watching the many much more astonishing ball gowns spinning around on the dance floor to fully portray their beauty. Around her she heard many offers for a dance but not one of them directed to her. So many pairs showing sheer elegance in all their steps and twirls while she discussed politics with her bodyguard. Her country was not the richest or the strongest but it was still far from being considered poor or weak. Scientia was capable of being a good alliance. So it really must be her own plainness that lead to her loneliness on the ball. — The first dance of the evening always belonged to the Empress and the Emperor ob Divina, Alice and Ryo Nakiri. The second dance of the evening was reserved to the kings and queens of the other lands. It was always an impressive portrayal of elegance and refinement that the respective leaders of their land put up while everyone else watched. Although everyone in the room was in agreement that the King and Queen of Sol, Takumi and Ikumi Aldini were by far the most talented. Each and every year their performance was astonishing and enchanting to watch. “Your parents are so graceful, Mika!” Chieko gushed to one of her closest friends, Princess Mika Aldini of Sol. She was a truly stunning girl with radiating blonde hair that reminded one of the stars in the sky and sparkling eyes that had the colour of the ocean. Adding to that she had beautiful, full lips and tanned skin. She could wear anything and it would be gorgeous, was what Chieko thought. And she was not alone on that. King Takumi Aldini of Sol almost daily received offers for a marriage with his daughter and also now on the ball, the blonde princess had many eyes on her urging to ask for a dance as soon as the leaders of the land had finished theirs. This allowed Mika to be picky and so she turned a lot of offers down. She also rejected all the marriage proposals, waiting for her one true love to finally arrive. Often perceived as a heartbreaker by many devastated princes she was actually a true romantic still believing in the thought of true love. But only her closest friends got to know this. “Of course you’re just as talented in dancing.” Chieko added. Behind her three males gave an approving nod. Prince Daisuke Aoki of Timor, Prince Hideyoshi Kawashima of Superbia and Chieko’s best friend, Prince Yasu Ibusaki of Pacem. Instantly the Mika blushed at the compliment and retorted. “Tha...Thanks, Chieko. But I’m still not comparable to my parents.” Her cousin next to her, Prince Hiroshi Aldini-Tadokoro of Luna chuckled. “You’re down-talking yourself, my dear cousin.” Once again the group of males behind Chieko gave their approving nods, especially Yasu’s was rather fierce as Chieko nodded. “Seeing you dance reminds one of a swan.” Smiled Daisuke. Next to him Hideyoshi exclaimed. “The goody two-shoes next to me is right for once!” Almost on command Daisuke glared at the other one because of that statement. Meanwhile Yasu added. “There’s many guys who would love to dance with you, after all. It is truly an honour to get a dance with you.” Mika’s blush had only increased and she grunted. “Shut up.” Then she fiercely put her hands on her hips and declared. “Most princes however didn’t learn a thing about dance though!” A little theatrically, she sighed. “So many feet that already stepped on mine. It’s a horror! You’d think if they already have the nerve to ask for a dance with these smug grins, they’d know how to!” The whole group laughed at that. This was why the part where the kings and queens danced was always Chieko’s favorite. Not only were the respective highest-ranked royals all rather talented but it was also the time where all of her friends were still gathered together. But every dance had to end at some point. As the music of the orchestra started to fade, the adults slowed down as well. And just mere seconds after they were already parting. Each of the pairs moving into different directions. Chieko saw her parents approaching, accompanied by Yasu’s parents, Hideyoshi’s parents and Daisuke’s parents. Yuki was almost glowing of happiness and excitedly chatted with Queen Ryoko Ibusaki of Pacem while walking. Her husband King Shun Ibusaki of Pacem was just staring at Zenji in the meantime, making it seem like the two had a telepathic conversation going on. “And? How were we?” Yuki beamed once near enough for the princesses and princes to hear. “Splendid.” Daisuke responded. “Marvelous.” Hideyoshi added. They both turned expectingly to Yasu, who said after a little pause. “I can only agree.” “Absolutely.” Hiroshi smiled. Mika and Chieko gave their nods. Hideyoshi’s mother, Queen Urara Kawashima of Superbia, flipped her hair and declared. “But of course.” Her husband, King Shoji Kawashima of Superbia chuckled. Meanwhile Daisuke’s mother Queen Yua Aoki of Timor clinged to her husband while blushing because of the praise. “Thank you.” Ryoko chuckled in response. Yuki began to laugh. “Of course we all were nothing compared to Mika’s parents!” This statement seemed to irk Urara a little as she flinched. Mika only shook her head. “I wouldn’t put it like that, Queen Yuki, but I’ll be sure to tell them the praise regardless.” Before anyone could say anything more, the Empress who had returned to her throne clapped her hands together bringing the attention to her. “I want to thank my fellow Kings and Queens for their participation in our yearly opening dance. It was a pleasure.” She grinned. “And now with the formalities out of the way! It’s time to have fun~! Herewith, I officially declare the ball’s beginning! Let us all have a wonderful time as usual!” Some raised their glass to yell “Cheers”, the others applauded the Empress despite the fact that she could be a little informal time to time. After that, the chaos ensued. With the ball beginning, for most princes and princesses it was essential to start the evening off with a dance. And of course it had to be a dance with a good, suitable companion. Chieko notes how many eyes landed on the people surrounding her. Hiroshi noted that a great amount of males were staring at his mildly, annoyed cousin and so he quickly offered her a hand. “My dear cousin, how about we share the first dance of the evening?” Mika gave him a little surprised look but it quickly shifted into a thankful but also amused expression. “Sure, why not?” “Well.” Hideyoshi proudly announced. He also had many looks burning on him and knew it. “I’ll guess I search for a partner then as well.” His arrogant grin got a little wider. “Shouldn’t take long.” Next to him Daisuke huffed but decided to tag along in the end. Yasu watched Mika leave with Hiroshi. Chieko gently took his hand. “Maybe next time.” Yasu pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I...don’t know what you’re talking about...” Chieko could only chuckle at this. He might be an unreadable mystery to most but certainly not to her. She was just about to ask if maybe they should follow Hiroshi’s and Mika’s strategy and dance together. For her it was better than nothing, considering that she would certainly get a nice chat out of it and Yasu was a good dancer. However of course fate couldn’t even let her have this, as just as she was about to open her mouth, a girl approached them with flushed cheeks. Of course Yasu was too kind to say no. And as quickly as that, Chieko was alone. Her mother has decided to get in touch with the newest gossip and Ryoko, Urara and Yua had followed her. Her father had chatted with Shun, Daigo and Shoji for a bit before excusing himself and going off to negotiate. The other three soon disappeared as well. Daigo and Shoji aiming for the food that was served on the ball and Shun deciding to have a talk with King Satoshi Isshiki of Fons, the leader of the so-called “Polar Star Alliance” which her country and his were a part of. Chieko sighed. Just as she predicted it. She started to move a little backwards, considering that there was not much need for her to stand so close to the dance floor. She’d just reached the spot that she had desired then she already heard the whispers emerge. “Look it’s the Crown Princess of Scientia.” “All alone as it seems.” “Well, she does not look much like a princess doesn’t she?” “She’s not ugly but.........plain. An everyday-face.” “And a shylet as it seems? She doesn’t look like to have much bravery.” “Oh poor Scientia. She has to rule it someday.” “My father knows one of Scientia’s ministers. They’re all worried sick! For sure small, petite Princess Chieko Marui will not be able to compete with the other much more fierce leaders of the land...and seeing her here. I believe they’re right.” The girls standing a few meters away at least attempted to be as quiet in their talk as possible, Chieko gave them that. It was such a shame that it was not very effective. She bid her lips. Even her country’s ministers doubted her. She really was plain after all. — Time passed and not much changed for Chieko. Only Daisuke returned to her side, while Hideyoshi remained busy swirling around with everyone who wanted to. Mika fleed to the balcony rather soon, Hiroshi joined a talk with his mother and the King of Gloria, Kojiro Shinomiya. And Yasu remained cornered by many different princesses who he just couldn’t reject. However unbeknownst to Chieko, her evening was just about to become much more interesting than she would have ever imagined. “.....And that is why I find this theory on sovereignty much more interesting.” Chieko finally finished a long, long speech. She turned to Daisuke. “But what do you think?” The Brunette blankly stared at her with round eyes for a few seconds before giving his answer. “What I think? Chieko! I think about just how you manage to keep all of this data in your head! You truly are amazing when it comes to such things.” Chieko blushes slightly at the praise. “Thank you...But it really isn’t that amazing...” “It is!” Daisuke immediately corrected. “I mean.....Oh is that your father there?” Chieko noticed how Daisuke’s green eyes had went from being focused on her to something that was behind her. And so she turned around to spot that it was really her father approaching them. To her surprise she also noted that Zenji had become even more pale than he already was and that he looked...slightly stressed. Chieko frowned. What was that about? “Chieko!” He called out as he had finally reached the two. “What is it, father?” Chieko responded and tilted her head a little. “Are you alright? You’re very pale.” Zenji gave a hectic nod. “I am alright, but I....have to introduce you to somebody.” He didn’t sound calm at all. Chieko and Daisuke exchanged a look. “Who is it?” At this question the last little tints of skin color seemed to fade out of Zenji’s face. With a heavy voice he answered. “King Etsuya Eizan of Exitium.” It was the mere name of a kingdom but within a second, Daisuke was as pale as Zenji. “Ex....Exitium?” He screeched in an unbelieving voice. But who could blame him. Chieko’s pupils had also grown wider as she had heard that name. Exitium. A kingdom that was mainly known for it’s immense prosperity that truly only few could rival. But just as much as it was rich, it was also a heavy Military nation that could be a deadly opponent in any war. Going by the stories she heard about the Royal family so far, the king was a merciless man quick to anger while the queen was appearently a just-as intimidating woman capable of freezing people with only a simple glance. It was a fearsome, power-hungry kingdom that made many feel uneasy. Why would any of them want to have anything to do with her? With wide eyes she said. “What? But why...?” Zenji sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. With an frustrated expression he explained. “He requested a dance for his second son, Prince Shigeo Eizan of Exitium.....With you.” Chieko’s eyes grew some more at this and for a little moment. This left her tongue-tied as it took her a bit to process the information she had just received. Someone...had requested a dance with her? And it was the King of Exitium of all places? And she was asked to dance with his son? As her tongue was finally capable of forming words again, the first one to leave her lips was: “What?” She heard Daisuke stammer behind her. “A....A da...dance with one of the three princes of Exitium?” Anther sigh escaped Zenji. “Exactly. I suppose he wants to get his second son, , as he is not the heir to the throne, a marriage to gain more power.” He pressed his lips together and admitted. “I don’t like the idea of introducing my daughter to one of the three princes of Exitium either...” Despite the fact that Chieko couldn’t deny that the thought of dancing with one of the three princes really had an eery feel to it, there was a part of her that was genuinely curious. Maybe Exitium was terrifying in many people’s eyes but it was without any doubt a powerful nation that had to gain it’s reputation somehow. And Chieko was sure that the members of the Royal family weren’t exactly stupid or people who based their decision-making on mere feelings and intuition. And so she answered. “I suppose, we shouldn’t let King Eizan wait too long then.” Daisuke turned to her, eyes full of shock. Zenji continued staring at his daughter for a little while more, before he sighed, nodded and said. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

And so they left,l the still flabbergasted Daisuke and got moving. Chieko did as she said and followed her father’s path through the lousy crowd. Soon daughter and father had reached their target, as Chieko spotted two persons her father was heading to. A man around her father’s age with blonde, slicked back hair and narrowed, sharp yellow eyes which were covered by rectangular glasses. He looked grim and impatient. Without a doubt, that must be the King of Exitium, Etsuya Eizan. On first glance Chieko could understand why he was usually described as intimidating. She didn’t even talk to him and yet she was already wishing for never saying something that could make the man angry. The male beside him was a lot younger, presumably a year older than Chieko. That must be Etsuya’s second son, Shigeo Eizan. The one she was possibly right in front of sharing a dance with. He had the same yellow eyes as his father and had also covered them with a pair of squared glasses. His hair however was green and only partly slicked back. The uniform he wore certainly looked expensive. It was black and Chieko caught herself thinking that the colour suited him well. The Prince disinterestedly looked elsewhere as if this affair didn’t concern him at all. Meanwhile his father spoke up and barked. “King Marui!” as soon as Zenji and Chieko we’re close enough. Zenji flinched a little at that but tried to keep his overall composure. “I see you’re finally back.” Etsuya continued. Without warning his eyes suddenly landed on Chieko. “...With your daughter.” Without any preparation for this attack, Chieko felt like she was being stabbed by those burning, piercing orbs. Quickly she bowed her head and made curtsey. “My name is Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia. It is my honour to meet you, Your Majesty.” “The pleasure is mine.” Etsuya replied, before shifting his attention back to Zenji. “King Marui, May I find out if there will be a dance or not?” He asked in an imperious tone, making the question sound a little bit more like a threat than a polite inquiry. Zenji forced a smile. “I....If it suits you, I’d like to exchange a few more words about this with my daughter.” It didn’t suit Etsuya, which showed as his expression darkened when hearing that he had to wait a little more for his answer. Despite obviously impatient, he still gave a slight nod. “Of course.” The very next second, Chieko was already grabbed by her father and pulled to the side. Once far away enough from Etsuya and his son, Zenji faced Chieko and began to whisper. “Chieko, I know you are a smart girl and I’ll leave this decision up to you. But remember, don’t pressure yourself. If you feel like rejecting the offer, I completely understand! Truth to be told, I would prefer that actually. Just tell me and I will....” He gulped but continued the sentence regardless. “.....Tell King Eizan that you refuse.” Chieko knew that the thought of having to say “No” right into Etsuya’s certainly scared her father and she appreciated that he was willing to do it for her regardless of that. However. Despite all the dark and scary stories she had already heard about Exitium. Despite the fact that neither Etsuya nor his son had shown themselves to be great examples of politeness. Despite the fact that her wise and knowledgeable father was urging her to refuse. Chieko didn’t want to. She searched her feelings and was stunned when finding out that she actually wanted this dance. If she would grasp the chance and actually be able to get on Exitium’s good side, Scientia might have found itself a very strong and valuable ally. But it was more than that. It was also the desire to prove herself. To show the rest of the world that she was capable of standing toe to toe with the other Royals, to demonstrate that Scientia would be in good, strong hands once she will be crowned queen. She just wanted everyone to finally see that she was more than what meets the eye. And lastly. She just wanted to have one goddamnit dance on this goddamn ball for once in her life. And if it had to be with the devil himself. “Father..” She therefore said. “Would Exitium be an alliance of benefit?” She already knew the answer and it was only verified as she saw how her father’s eyes widened before he dodged her gaze. A smile appeared on her lips as she got a hold of his chin to make her look at her again. “You worry too much. I’ll be fine, Dad.” And before he could let his overprotectiveness win over and hold her back or something, she turned around and moved away back to Etsuya and Shigeo. “Your Majesty.” She firmly called out after she had build up enough courage. “I will gladly share a dance with your son, it would be my honour!” Etsuya’s eyes widened a little at that and he seemed to be, actually impressed with the little princess. Another wonder seemed to happen as his son beside him broke his staring battle with the curtains on the other side of the ballroom to finally look at Chieko instead. A smirk played itself on his lips and suddenly Chieko felt her knees go weak as she was confronted with a piercing gaze once again. Shigeo stepped out from behind the back of his father and moved to Chieko. While doing so, he started to talk. “Well, well. I’m deeply flattered, Princess Marui.” He stopped in front of her. Interest flashing in his penetrating eyes. Having him so close, she really couldn’t deny that he was a handsome, young man. “But I do have to say, that this does not fit the formalities.” Chieko felt heat build up in her body as she watched his hand reaching out for hers. He bowed slightly and elegantly brought her hand to his mouth. “Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia.” His lips touched her palm, while his way too intense eyes continued to hold contact with hers. Instantly the blood rushed into her head, turning her face red. “May I have this dance?” It was hard for Chieko not to stammer her answer. “It...It would be a plea...pleasure.” The smirk of the prince grew a little at that and he let go of her hand. He leaned back again and rather held out his elbow to her for hooking. “Shall we then, Princess?” He asked gallantly. She could only nod and place her hand on his elbow. Shigeo’s gaze remained on her for a few seconds more before he turned his head to Zenji who had placed himself next to Etsuya in the mean time and had become pale again. “I will make sure to give your daughter a dance she deserves, Your Majesty, there’s no need to worry.” And with a last nod directed to his father, he turned his head away again and lead Chieko to the dance floor. Meanwhile Chieko had an rumble of emotions going on within her. She honestly never expected Shigeo to be so eloquent....so...so....charismatic. It made her feel a spark of interest that went beyond ‘alliance’. Mentally she shook her head, quickly telling herself to stay focused and not let herself be bewitched by the charms of some prince. Especially not if it was a prince that could possibly lie. Shigeo stopped in his walk once they had reached the dancefloor making Chieko stop as well. She took her hand off his elbow so he could turn to her and face her instead. But once their eyes met Chieko looked elsewhere. She heard a chuckle. “Why so nervous now, Princess? Have you fallen for me already?” Almost automatically she spat. “Of course not!” It only lead to another amused snicker. “Whatever it is then, I assure you there’s nothing to worry about....” Immense arrogance that could rival Hideyoshi’s showed in his voice. “...I am a splendid dancer.” Chieko huffed. At that moment the music of the previous song faded, telling both of them that it was time to get serious. As she had learned it Chieko made another curtsy, while Shigeo bowed. As they lifted their heads to look at each other again they reached out for each other’s hand to let their fingers intertwine. Her other hand landed on his shoulder, while his was placed on her hip, making her blood start to boil again. And then. Just as they had gotten in position. The new tune started. And so they began to move to the music of he orchestra. She let him take the lead and followed each of his steps with precision. Very soon they were in sync as they almost floated over the floor. His eyes attached to her, while she still looked to the side. It what Chieko has practiced for so long but never had been able to show. Over the years she had memorised so many steps and twirls. She smiled a little. Finally. “I see that you’re good in dancing as well.” He said after a while. A pause emerged as Chieko did not really know how to answer but rather had another blush spread on her face because of the compliment on something she had tried to perfect for so long. And then, he spoke up again. “Princess Chieko Marui, you really are an interesting woman.” Now she couldn’t help but to look at him in wonderment about this statement. Her eyes questioning she met his gaze again and found him with a confident smile. She tilted her head a little. “Why? Because I can dance?” She took a quick look around them, seeing all the other couples twirling their circles. She looked back at him. “That really isn’t very amazing.” “Hm..” He hummed. “No it’s not just that, Princess Marui.” After another turn he explained. “I’ll be honest with you. And let me tell you, that is privilege not many achieve. I was not very avid when my father came to tell me he had finally found a dance partner.” For a moment is smile actually disappeared and he started to roll his eyes. “Normally the girls either throw theirselves at me, while clearly only interested in the prestige of my family name and thinking I am easy to seduce with their empty compliment and boring talks or they shiver uncontrollably clearly scared.” To underline how he annoyed he was of hear actions he added. “It’s a pain.” The smirk returned to his face as he then said. “You, however, are different.” Chieko blinked at that, a little too flabbergasted to give an answer. Shigeo chuckled. “I’ve never seen a girl so fiercely walking up to my father and speaking up so confidently. Normally they sent out their fathers or mothers to let them do the talking and even they request the dance in a whimper.” His smirk grew a little. “What you did was certainly impressive.” Chieko’s cheeks became hot once again and she responded. “Thank you for the compliment....” “I don’t understand why you don’t have princes lining up to ask for a dance.” Shigeo continued smoothly. “You’re the crown princess to a steady nation, you’re pretty and you seem to be the smart kind as well.” “Pre-“ Chieko squeaked while her face got red even more. She quickly shook her head to get a clear mind again. But once she did, her eyes turned downcast and she looked back to the side. “People don’t take notice of me.” She explained honestly. “They all see me as weak and helpless. A baby-animal so to speak. A candle in the wind.” The conversation she had heard earlier played in her head again and she pressed her lips together. For a little while Shigeo remained quiet and at some point she assumed he was out of arguments and compliments. But then he suddenly spoke up again. “And yet here you are, dancing with one of the most dangerous men on the ball like it is nothing.” He turned her around and after she had done so, she looked back at him in astonishment. His smirk turned to a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly deem that weak and helpless.” It was then that Chieko actually noted how many eyes the two had caught already and how even most of the other dancing couples were eyeing them. “Is that....Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia?” “.....dancing with one of the three princes of Exitium?!” “How bold!” “I would never dare!” Chieko turned her head back to Shigeo. “That....that is all because of you and your reputation.” He only snickered once agains. “No, Princess Chieko, it’s not. They all admire the princess who’s dancing with a monster.” Chieko felt her heart accelerate a little as she kept on taking turns and slides with him over the dancefloor while more and more pairs of eyes began to watch them.

---

[One of the main things going on with Chieko’s character in the fanfiction is that she tends to get heavily underestimated, sometimes even by her friends....this is also one of the reasons why her having a significant relationship to Shigeo is a thing, as Shigeo is a rather intimidating personality that many, many students on Totsuki fear. 

As he often gets confronted with her fierce side, he’s actually one of the few persons who recognize her potential.

I tried to make this a sort-off theme here as well and I hope I didn’t screw up too badly. 

Also I was like....suffering to write the actual dance QwQ I’m really not good at things like this.

Anyways, here’s my little “I-had-a-bad-day”-comfort fic ;w;

As a last funfact: I was only listening to the Soundtrack of “Madoka Magica” when writing this and I’ll be honest. In my mind the tune they dance to is “Sis Puella Magica” since I...just heavily associate it with this story now XD Even tho....”Sis Puella Magica” comes from a completely different place.

This one works as well (It’s basically “Sis Puella Magica” but without vocals -w- and even more orchestral, so it might work better as song for a ballroom dance : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT0hDTsNais&t=37s) ]

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 288: Daughters s/t

I’ve been slacking on these posts in recent weeks on account of being on tour. But I’ve also been slacking because I spent nearly two years researching and writing about Daughters and I’m now in the position of trying to figure out how to condense all those thoughts into one post. So instead of trying to parcel my thoughts down to a few paragraphs, I’m going to post an excerpt from the book discussing a somewhat disastrous tour we did together after the jump. Enjoy.

Here was the duality of Daughters. They weren’t necessarily the monsters they made themselves out to be on stage. They had the capacity to be incredibly friendly and pleasant. But over the course of the next few weeks, the ugliness of their music would begin to permeate into their off-stage lives. The tour travelled west through the plains and mountain states up into Seattle, then headed down the coast. The first week was fairly mellow. On the West Coast, it started to become apparent that Daughters weren’t having a good time on the road. “Not to say we were ahead of the curve,” Sam says in hindsight, “but it always took two years of steady touring before people wanted to hear the latest thing we had done.” Hell Songs had come out at the end of summer 2006 and we were touring at the beginning of summer 2008. And indeed, it seemed like people were still trying to figure out how they felt about Daughters on that tour.

           Jeff Kirby, a writer Seattle’s big alternative weekly newspaper The Stranger, reviewed the show for the paper’s music blog. He loved Daughters’ set, but felt that the line-up wasn’t an ideal scenario for the bands involved. “I don’t envy any band that has to play after Daughters—I’ve seen them shame several headliners,” Kirby wrote. “Following up their explosive set with moody, atmospheric instrumental rock seems like a miscalculation, even if that’s what the majority of the people are there to see. There was no evidence from the crowd though that any of them felt this way—they loved every second of Russian Circle’s set. The transition was harder for me; I just got my ADD on and now I need to get my patience on? Whose bright idea was this?”

           Maybe the bill wasn’t right for Daughters. Maybe Russian Circles drew too many folks that wanted to get lost in the cinematic compositions we were trying to craft, not rattled out of their stupor by Daughters’ abrasive sounds and unruly antics. But it wasn’t always Daughters that got the short end of the stick. I remember playing a dance studio in Morgan Hill, California and watching the crowd of underage kids tear each other apart during Daughters’ set, and then quickly exit the moment they were done playing, leaving us to play to an empty room. There were massive wildfires in the area at the time, and the whole skyline had an ominous orange and brown haze to it. I remember trying to assuage the demoralizing feeling of watching people leave as we set up by assuming that they all wanted to get home to make sure their homes weren’t burning down. But even then, that only meant that catching a Daughters show was worth losing all your possessions in a fire, and our set wasn’t worth the same risk.

           In Chico, we played Café Coda, a small restaurant catering to CSU students. The show was packed, and a few latecomers found that they had to watch the show through the giant plate-glass windows that spanned the entire façade of the café. There was something magical in the horrified faces of the people on the sidewalk watching Lex spit onto the glass and smear his scrotum on the window for their entertainment. The latecomers were disgusted, but the crowd inside the club loved every minute of it.

           The next night the tour came through Slim’s in San Francisco. I remember very little of the evening, but apparently the club was so offended by Daughters’ set and by the state of their dressing room at the end of the night that they were no longer welcome back. This was representative of Daughters’ various violations of decency and good taste: barring extreme cases as with Pelican in Montreal, the band was usually able to contain their mess so that it didn’t impact the other acts on the tour. At the Glasshouse in Pomona a few days later, the band brought some of their visiting friends from Providence into the communal backstage. The New England guests proceeded to get hammered and began throwing bottles against the walls of the green room. One stern reprimand from their manager Cathy Pellow, who was also hanging out backstage, was enough for Daughters to order their friends to settle down.

           But eventually the mess couldn’t be contained. Two days later we were at the Casbah in San Diego. It was their first time back in the city since the whole debacle with The Locust. “Some tours we—though I guess mainly Lex and I—spent in a drunken fog. For years it was straight whiskey, cases of beer, and drugs,” Nick says. “It was fun and wild, so I look at it with a certain fondness, but there were other tours where I felt that I needed to exercise some personal control over myself and use the time spent in the van or before the show to focus on bettering myself somehow.” But the Casbah has no backstage room, which makes self-improvement, whether it’s practicing guitar scales, reading, doing yoga, or whatever else makes you feel like you’re helping cultivate a healthy body and mind, damn near impossible, unless you want to be the weirdo doing yoga back by the merch or the jackass who’s running through guitar exercises at the bar. And considering that members of The Locust were rumored to be coming to the show, Nick felt anxious and unable to focus. So he ponied up at the bar, ordered a whisky, and talked to the bartender. One whisky led to another, and eventually someone tapped on Nick’s shoulder to tell him it was time to play.

           “I was in a fog, operating on muscle memory. Some nights that would work without a hitch, so I didn’t think much of it. We set up, everyone can tell I’m fucked. I think I was even making our set time cut short by showing up too late and taking too much time to get it together.” A couple songs into their set, Nick’s rig began to act up and cut out. So he unplugged from the pedalboard and plugged directly into the amp. That worked at first, but eventually his signal began to cut out again. “Without a second thought I walked back to my amp, banged the top of it with my fist, picked up my glass of whisky, chugged it, and slammed the glass down on the amp as hard as I could. It didn’t hurt, but there was a sobering ‘mush’ feeling that snapped me into reality quickly enough to see the exposed muscle of my fingers before there was time for the blood to start gushing out. Even though there wasn’t sound coming out of my amp, I kept playing until I noticed the small pool of blood on my setlist. As Jon later told me, I turned towards him, whipped my hand up in the air, and yelled ‘I have to go to the hospital.’ Jon says that a trail of blood spattered across his snare drum and up his face.

“Without waiting for a reply, I threw off my guitar, kicked over my amp, and stormed through the crowd. In kicking my amp, I mistakenly kicked the club’s mic stand and broke it in half, and not at a point where two parts connect. I broke it in the middle of the main bar. The sound guy was so impressed he didn’t charge us for it. Meanwhile, I’m outside the club panicking because I’m way too drunk to handle the situation and decide that I need to sober up, so I just start thrusting my bloody hands into my mouth to make myself throw up. The next immediate thing I remember is realizing that I’m surrounded by a crowd of people waiting to get in, some of which were members of The Locust who seemed to think the whole thing was funny.”

           The show was running late at this point and everyone was drunk. I was trying to sweep up the broken glass, mop up the blood, and cobble together Nick’s stuff while the rest of Daughters tended to their own gear. No one in his band seemed too concerned about his injury. In fact, no one would drive him to the hospital, so Evan from Young Widows took him.

           Despite the on-stage drama, the crowd didn’t seem particularly ruffled by the incident, probably because they were too distracted by the ruckus that unfolded in the audience prior to Nick’s bloodletting. Apparently, some guy in the crowd decided to urinate on an unsuspecting patron during the set. Not surprisingly, this led to a proper fight, which migrated to the back patio of the club. The altercation mostly involved two dudes shoving each other, and at one point someone got pushed into Daughters’ merch table, which resulted in a pitcher of beer spilling into a box of their records, ruining all the covers in the process.

           I don’t remember our set, but I do remember getting off stage and finding all of the Daughters members (with the exception of an elusive Jeff Worms) completely hammered. The mood was surprisingly light, but when it came time to leave, no one in the band seemed sober enough to drive, and no one seemed particularly motivated to go by the hospital to pick up Nick. In the end, all three bands caravanned to the hospital, partially because the remaining members of Widows needed a ride to their van, which Evan had taken to the hospital, and partially because Daughters were sobering up and needed someone else from the touring party to drive them to pick up Nick.

           We got to the hospital, ordered Daughters to tend to their injured bandmate, and decided to stay at a hotel half an hour outside of the city in the mountain town of Alpine. We gave Daughters the hotel name so that they could stay in the same spot as us. Shortly after arriving at our destination, we got a phone call from Jon. Apparently, the band decided to sober up and simmer down over burritos from a Mexican restaurant by the hospital. In a rare act of indulgence, the meal was paid for out of the band fund. Lex brought in the cash pouch, paid for everyone’s meal, and got a start on their drive. They were on the outskirts of town when they realized the cash pouch had not made it back into the van. Panicked phone calls to the Mexican restaurant failed to turn up the missing cash. Someone, either an employee or a customer, had walked off with all of Daughters’ money.

           The more pessimistic estimate on the loss claims that there was nearly $10,000 in the pouch. But supposedly the band had paid off the majority of their tour debts to Cathy the night before in LA, so the less painful estimates within the camp put the amount of money lost around $1,500. The money was never recovered, so it’s hard to say for sure.

           “That was the day I was coined ‘hot mess’ by Russian Circles,” Nick says. “It made me sad to hear that, because that’s not how I view myself. But in my absurd love of chaos, I felt kind of proud of the nickname too. Total duality—which is a pretty accurate description of the band as a whole, both with the psychology of the individual members, the construction of our music, and the choices we made as a group.”

           While there was always tension within the Daughters camp, the biggest division existed between Nick and Lex, so it’s somewhat ironic that they were the two members of the band to screw up the night. Any animosity that could’ve been directed at Nick for derailing the performance was overshadowed by Lex’s loss of the cash.

           It’s hard to illustrate the animosity between band members because it never manifested in a major altercation, even in San Diego. “They didn’t actually fight,” says Brian Mullen, “but there was always tension. There was never a blow-up, and you need that blow-up. You need that moment where you all scream at each other about something stupid and walk away. Then it’s out there and whoever was being the idiot takes a moment to evaluate, and then everyone moves forward. They never did that.”

           Animosity was expressed in small gestures. Lex recalls a show in Texas where he had climbed into the rafters of the club during their set and stripped naked. He dropped his shoes and clothes onto the stage, but apparently he dropped them too close to Nick, because Nick kicked the clothing away from him. In terms of rock disputes, kicking a bandmember’s clothes is pretty benign business. But when these small, disgruntled gestures become standard protocol, it creates a very toxic environment. “There was always a power struggle,” Jon says. “There were always personalities that you had to coddle or manipulate to get to certain place. Meanwhile, they’re manipulating you the whole time for their own personal gain. It was just a power struggle for no reason.”

           Nick has a slightly different take on the nature of the tension. “There was a prominent sense of humor or satire about the band. We all have really dry and terrible senses of humor. Most of us were kind of mean with it, and at the same time we were very childish. Looking back, it’s something we bonded over. But as we toured on Hell Songsthat sense of humor wasn’t at the forefront of what we did. It wasn’t conscious at all—we never did anything consciously because we had such poor communication skills.

“There was so much apathy within the group, and again, dualistically, we cared so much about everything that it made us sick. We hated the music. We hated being in a band at all. Sometimes we hated our audience. Sometimes we hated each other."

[sketchiedetails]

Nier: Minutiae [Then and Now]

I finally played through both Nier and Nier: Automata this year, and I’ve been wanting to post my thoughts on them for a while. I think I’ll make this a series of posts so I can focus on particular themes and go in depth where I want to. Some of this might be really clumsy analysis, some of it might be me thinking about plot holes, and most of it might just be me gushing about little details sprinkled here and there throughout both games.

If you wanna read more of my rantings, I’m gonna assume you’ve played both games so spoilers after the jump.

Also, for clarity’s sake I’ll refer to the first game solely as Nier and the second game as Automata.

This is a companion piece to my [Prologue] and [Memory and Self] posts. I titled it [Then and Now] because I wanted to explore the relationship certain characters have with past versions of themselves, but if I had to find the best words to describe this post it’d have to be [Responsibility and Guilt]. Nier and Automata have instances where the player is technically playing the same person, but not really. However, there are other characters in the game who experience this unique sense of split-personality that carry over to both games.

Emil returns to the game as a special vendor and is mostly a source of humor and absurdity to offset the overly somber tone in Automata (honestly, he’s earned the right to be a shitpost on wheels considering what he had to endure in Nier). Emil has a sidequest that requires the player to call him up whenever they encounter a Lunar Tear in the game. The quest ends with Emil revealing that when the aliens attacked Earth Emil had made several copies of himself with various types of weapons. In order to make himselves (probably the only time I get to use that term) more combat capable, he had to discard any data that didn’t help him with combat - that included his memories. Emil had to forget about the events in Nier that defined him, that were the very reason he took arms against the alien threat. Every Lunar Tear reveals a little bit more of Emil’s story and every revelation elicits a feeling of guilt and regret for Emil, both in the memories he lost and for having to discard those memories in the first place just to protect the world he once shared with his friends. 

Emil had lost his body, his friends, and furthermore he reveals that he isn’t even the original Emil. He’s an echo of someone else, yet he still retains this sense of responsibility for the world and the Lunar Tears that remind him of the ones who saved him at his lowest point, who found worth in his existence.

Emil isn’t the only returning character from Nier: the twins Popola and Devola take residence in the Resistance Camp. Like Emil, the Automata twins are different models to the twins in Nier. Even though they share the same names and likenesses over the town leaders in Nier’s Village, Automata’s Popola and Devola are treated as social pariahs in the Resistance Camp because of the events in Nier. Even though they weren’t the same duo responsible for the shitshow that occurred in that game, all Popola / Devola models have been considered guilty by association and were later programmed to carry guilt over the event even though they weren’t the same models to cause the incident. 

Popola and Devola get their own monologue like the bosses in Automata’s B - Route, which is interesting considering they aren’t enemies in this game so far only enemies have been given backstories to flesh out their characters just before the player would have to engage them in combat. Even their debut was designed to surprise the player because the two don’t appear in the forefront of the Camp at the beginning of the game but appear after an important story beat. If the player had finished Nier before Automata, their first instinct would be the same as everyone else in the Camp and treated the twins with caution. The monologue reveals that the twins are deeply resentful for their treatment, both by how they’ve been programmed to feel guilty for a crime they technically didn’t commit - this has to be a reference to Original Sin - and for their treatment as outcasts by the rest of the world.

Ultimately, the twins sacrifice themselves to help 9S access the tower and to redeem themselves from their “sin” in the first Nier game. You could argue that they wanted to prove to the other androids that they were their own selves and not the same twins who helped almost destroy the world, but I’d argue that they did it more to prove to themselves that same point.

Both examples show characters who were devoted to a cause very important to themselves - protecting the Earth for Emil, and reaching self-actualization for the twins - and these drives helped them to overcome the guilt of their sins, whether or not they deserved that guilt. Ironically, the original main character and namesake of the series is the one who cannot accept the guilt of his actions because he’s too obsessed with his self-imposed responsibilities. Nier’s only motivation is to protect his daughter Yonah and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. To him this means he’ll work any odd job if it brings money to the table and later on he takes on the task of obtaining every Sealed Verse to fulfill a prophecy told to him by Popola and Devola (the bad ones) that would rid the world of the Black Scrawl, the disease plaguing his daughter. Instead of spending what time he has left with his daughter, Nier becomes an absentee father convincing himself that it’s the best thing he can do for Yonah. When the Shadowlord kidnaps Yonah, Nier’s devotion to protecting his daughter almost becomes a character flaw because it turns him into a single-minded maniac who will kill any Shade that crosses his path if it brings him closer to Yonah.

When Nier learns that the Shadowlord is actually his soul, he never even attempts to make peace with himself or find a compromise that can benefit both parties. Like in the Prologue, all Nier cares about is making sure Yonah is safe and will kill any Shade that gets in his way.

There’s this idea that you consider yourself in the past or future as a separate entity; when you look back and cringe on the dumb things you were into, or choose to indulge yourself and binge on some junk food or procrastinate on an activity and say you’ll worry about it later. That’s the kind of projection that has you thinking that Future-You is another person who’ll have to deal with the consequences later. Nier and Nier: Automata have created scenarios where characters can actually acknowledge themselves as literal separate entities and judge themselves from the outside. Emil feels a deep regret but overall relief for keeping the planet safe. Popola and Devola chose to be better versions than their more notorious counter parts. Nier’s personal tragedy is that he doesn’t like what he sees in himself, but can’t even accept that he’s his own worst enemy.

This is the core idea I wanted to explore when I wrote about [The Prologue] and [Memory and Self]. Self-reflection is a hard but necessary function to learn from your mistakes and make better choices in the future. If you can’t accept the parts of you that are harmful, you’ll end up repeating the same offenses again and again.

[entropique-alley]

on a scale from 1 to 0--

i remember when i used to have the drive to post on this page, in college, it would always strike me around 1am or so, and it would be at a point where all the emotion from the day had just pent up to a point where the only way to find a release was to just let it gush into a shitty depression text post that may or may not have ended up in my drafts. (that’s a lie, i posted everything in my drafts. fuck drafts.) (pick a goddamn lane, you know?)

but i had the best fucking day today. for no reason. i’m just happy. it was a normal day at work, i went to the mall with my friend and we both got some cute af shit to celebrate the beginning of ~fall~ (we’re getting a group together to go apple-picking this weekend ((even though its probably/definitely going to rain))), i facetimed my friend who’s moving to GERMANY for a year to do some cool ass research and i miss her like crazy and i can’t believe she’s accomplishing her dreams right out of the gate, i called my parents and got to tell them about my job and show them what i bought (with my own paycheck!), i got john green’s new book in the mail (and it IS a signed copy so now i have all his books signed !!!!) and i read the first page but made myself stop so i don’t stay up all night reading it because i have to get a decent night’s sleep if i’m going to be at all productive tomorrow. but i’m excited. i’m ready for work tomorrow, i still don’t hate it and almost look....forward....to it most days......which is not like college. i am not who i was in college. 

okay, that’s probably also a lie. i am very much the same girl i can always remember being. but i’m content, now, here. it’s so fucking important for kids to get mental help, jesus fucking christ. i should have seen someone in college or fucking done something about it. i was banking on the fact that my self-diagnosed depression would magically disappear when i graduated and left, and it’s mildly horrifying that i turned out to be right. (my anxiety is still alive and kicking, though. so no worries there, eh?) (yoga helps. if only i could find a good fucking studio here. ((i guess that’s my singular gripe about this city, that they’re too fucking light and airy and happy to have a dark/loud/intense yoga studio. i’m looking for the Spin Class of yoga studios, alright? can someone fucking indulge me here???))) i swear like a sailor again. that’s a habit that’s reappearing from high school, i think. (and not a good one..........) but i don’t...cry myself to sleep anymore. i don’t feel fucking empty, constantly. i’m not putting in effort to make it seem like i have friends, i don’t ache when i’m alone. i don’t derive my self-worth from social media. i’m not literally palm-sweatingly afraid of the people i have daily interactions with. i don’t have to use tv as an escape, i don’t have to force myself to go outside and make plans so i don’t sit alone in my room or sleep all day. it just happens!!! i’m living a neurotypical fucking life, for what i think is the first time since my childhood. and i am over the goddamn moon about it.

my original point was that now, the urge to write down what i’m feeling comes from a positive place instead of a spiral or a depressive episode. and that deserves to be celebrated.

[wonderfulchaos69-blog]

tagged!

@mikoe24 - this looked interesting, so I stayed up a bit later than intended working on it xD Thanks for the tag, love, and I’ll be having some Mikuni and Misono headcanons for you after my hiatus is up! (which will be a week ahead of time, woohoo!)

Rules: Always post the rules. Answer the questions asked, then write eleven new ones. Tag eleven people to answer your questions as well as the person who tagged you.

Pokki’s Questions

1. Do you have any OCs? If so, what are their name(s)?

I have quite a few, yes. I have an entire next gen cast for Natsume's Book of Friends, for a story I have been working on for two years. It recently hit 100k and I am still dead sure this will never see the light of day, lol. It's so self indulgent. For right now it has the working title of Elegy for the Lost One and it takes place in a future where Natsume disappeared under strange circumstances. Thrillers are what I like writing the most - suspense, the build-up to it, and then the inevitable fall as you start putting the pieces together.

Now to give you the run-down on the OCS, haha. So first up is Shiori, who I decided would be a daughter to Natori and Hiiragi. I am always curious about youkai/human relations and how they work in the Book of Friends universe, and I chose to play around with that using Shiori. She takes after her father a lot - flashy, bold, a real show stopper. But she has her mother's sensibility and loyalty. And since I'm mentioning Natori, I might as well bring up Matoba. I ended up giving him a son that develops an unparalleled obsession with the Book of Friends. Then there's Takahiro, Hiromi and Haruki who are the main cast and the ones that the story focuses on the most. They're the ones trying to solve the mystery. Meanwhile, there's Makoto, who is the would-be inherited of the Book of Friends. She is a relative to Natsume, distantly, through Natsume's cousin (Yuuto, if the drama cds are to be believed~).

Then, for an original story I'm working on, I have a few solid characters so far. Annabel, a steadfast young woman who is independant to a fault and doesn't know to ask others for help. She's thrown into a situation where she has no choice but to lean on others - or in this case, on one person in particular. A mentor, a friend, a guiding hand in a world that seems so foreign even though she's been living in it for years. Suddenly, things fail to make sense. What she thought she knew turns out to be different from the underlying reality. The Lore Keeper, her mentor, is the one to help her through it. For his own reasons, but who doesn't have an ulterior motive or two? His is simply ensuring that the future Keeper is an upstanding one. As you can see, he doesn't have a name yet. But that's both intentional and my own laziness lol. So yeah, choosing names is always the last step for me. Developing their personalities is what I tend to focus on the most when creating an OC. The name always comes last to me.

2. What’s your favorite eye color?

I love blue eyes! They're so pretty. Especially light blue.

3. How would you name your kids? Or, if you don’t want kids, what are your favorite names?

Fun fact: I was actually terrified of having children for a long time. I met someone who changed that for me, but eh. I have not given it much thought. I think naming children should be the act of both parents, something I'd want to talk over with my partner, but as for some of my favorite names ... I like short and sweet, so: Iris and Jay.

4. What’s your favorite quote?

I tend to go with Dr. Seuss a lot, heh, so I'll go with Roald Dahl this time: "A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest of men."

5. What’s the last anime you watched?

... it's been a while, uhhh. Dragon Maid probably. :3

6. Do you like cosplays?

I never personally wore any, but I deeply admire those who do. They put a lot of work into every costume and that takes skill, dedication, and sacrificing their own personal time to make it. They have my respect.

7. Do you have a crush on someone? (A real person or a fictional character, it doesn’t matter~)

Well then, just delve right into my deep, dark secrets why don't you? Hmmm, I guess if I'm being honest: I do. It was sort of an "oh shit" moment for me, but identifying the problem is the first step to finding a solution. In this case, getting my heart to agree with my mind that this is Not Allowed.

Fictional-wise ... idk, man. It's hard enough on me having real life crushes. I suppose Lily and Natori would be my type, though.

8. How many siblings do you have?

I have - had - two older half-brothers. It's complicated, too, so nope. I will not be explaining.

9. What would your ideal date be like?

Probably either a candlelit dinner and snuggling on the couch or doing something we both loved together. With my ex, that used to be hiking at the Cliffs, putting our feet in the water and play fighting with said water, and then collapsing together in the sand. It was sweet while it lasted.

10. Do you like your handwriting? Why?

I do, because why not? It's not perfect, but I've been learning that striving for perfection is a fruitless endeavor. It's also the coward's way out.

11. Now, say something positive about yourself!~  c:

Hmmm. Something positive ... my mind always goes blank when asked this sort of question. I guess, it's my persistence? Even when I play the role my own worst critic, I still keep going because sitting idle has never suited me. I have to constantly be doing something. Whether it's writing, reading, etc. If my mind is happy, so am I.

Avi’s Questions

1: What is you’re favorite series and why? (Could be anything from TV shows, books, anime, ect..)

For books, probably ... the Artemis Fowl series? That writing style is one of my favs :'D

For manga, definitely Natsume's Book of Friends. Gorgeous short stories on their own and a sprinkling of plot that's not too much, so it doesn’t take away from each story and they can all stand on their own. I admire that, since I'm primarily a short story writer more often than not.

2: What is your favorite weather and time of day?

My favorite type of weather is rain, no doubt about it. And for time of day ... night. Definitely night. I am a night owl, ha.

3: Favorite Fictional character? Why?

Why must you do this to me?! At the moment, it's Mikuni. Save me.

4: Favorite video game? Why?

The World Ends With You. Lots of reasons, and since they are personal ... I will instead just gush about how much I loved the storyline and the characters, and how I can proudly proclaim that this is one of the few games I have ever completed 100%.

5: What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, watching anime, video games, fishing, hiking, cooking/baking, and learning new things.

6: If you could pick one fictional world to live in, what world would you pick and why?

Oh gosh, I think the Hunter x Hunter world would be cool, too, but I'd die so quickly ... I'm going to go the safer route and say Tales of the Abyss. Make me one of those NPCs chilling in the background. Just, you know, not in the town that gets completely destroyed (gdi Luke).

7: Favorite animal?

CATS. I have always been a cat person and I will definitely continue to be one looooong into the future.

8: Do you have any pets? If so, what are their names and what are they?

Snow White, my eskimo doggie. And Goldie, my orange and white tabby cat.

9: Do you have any original stories? Tell me something about them!

Since I already talked about my current story alongside the OC question, I'll instead gush about a collab story with a good friend of mine. We've been working on this story for close to ... god, eight years now? It's one of those self indulgent things. It's fun to come home to and work on. It has a super hero setting, wherein she writes the heroes and I write the villains. My alliance is called, wait for it - SASSI. Super Assholes Seeking Suitable Income. They're real particular about the destruction they cause, let me tell ya. It's sort of a goofy series that we put together to hash out why people do the things they do and put a satire spin on it. (The villains are not the only ones we poke fun at, just saying.)

10: If you have any ocs, who was your first? If you don’t have any, who was your first favorite character and why?

Oh wow, that's so long ago. My first OC was a nameless young lady from a story about black cats bringing good omens. I wrote it for English class, because I was interested in myths and old legends in regards to cats. It was around the time I discovered what a Cat Sith is.

11: You have three wishes, what would you wish for?

Is this like one of those genies that twists what we want and we have to be reaaaally careful? You know, Monkey Paw style? If so, then I would hand off the wishes to someone else. They can have them; I'mma strive for what I want with my own dedication and patience. If this is a no strings attached sort of deal, then: 1. for good things to happen to my friends and family, 2. to live by the ocean, and 3. to be able to speak more than one language. As I said, all things I can work towards on my own.

Mikoe's Questions

1. Do you draw? If yes, how many years has it been since you’ve started?

Oh gods, no. I used to be big into drawing animals, but I can't draw people and shit for the life of me. I have a few wolf pictures, still, I think. My spirit animal <3

2. Do you write? If yes, could you copy paste a line from your latest work?

Since I was 11~ And sure, I'll use fanfic: "Do I have to go?" The cat's sleepy yawn gave away its apathy to the whole thing. "Can't I just stay here and nap? You'll be fine on your own."

"Well, they did send us two tickets. It'd be rude if you didn't use it, Kuro. Not to mention," and here Mahiru flicked the cat on the forehead, "I'd kind of die if you didn't come along, you lazy cat. Or did you forget we have a contract?"

3. What is/are your nickname(s)? If you don’t have any, can I give you one?

I joke about having nicknames, because kids call me Apple (or god help me, Cabbage, from A FRIEND UGH), but nah. Not really. You can't really make a nickname out of April, lol. As for receiving a nickname, go for it. Good luck, pffft.

4. When is your birthday? If you’re not comfortable with it, then what is your favorite day of the whole year and why?

August 27th

5. What are the 5 things that never fail to brighten up your day or put a smile on your face?

My pets!!! My friends and family. Really cute pics of animal in general. Reading something sweet. Being out in the fresh air.

6. Why did you join Tumblr?

To reconnect with old friends, mainly. Then I fell into the Servamp fandom, enough said.

7. IOS or Android?

Android.

8. In the scale of 1 to 10, how much do you love yourself?

5, it's half and half.

9. Are you the type who pours the cereal before the milk or the milk before the cereal?

Cereal before the milk xD I don't want to get splashed.

10. How is 2017 treating you so far?

Hmm, to sum up: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

My internal thoughts are just incoherent screaming atm.

11. Do you like pigeons? XD

Depends. I like the pretty ones that are small and colorful and land on your fingertips.

My Questions~

1. Where do you see yourself in five years?

2. If you draw and/or write, what programs are your favorite to use?

3. Do you have any phobias?

4. Have you ever traveled? If so, where?

5. Do you have someone you admire or strive to be like?

6. What is your ideal vacation?

7. Do you have a favorite candle scent?

8. What genre is your favorite? (For movies, books, anime/manga, games, etc.)

9. Do you have something you use as a crutch/safety net? Something you couldn't live without?

10. What is a series you used to enjoy as a child? Do you still enjoy it?

11. List five things you want to improve in and make a little time for those things every day.

I tag: @crazyanime3, @stirlingphoenix, @choc0bunnyqueen, @pleasantdreamsart, @saltykarkat, @mikunialicein .... man, it’s hard to pick 11. Anyone else who wishes to do so! And of course, if you’re tagged and do not want to do it, that’s cool too.

[anothercity]

Brooke is the best kind of ordinary. Brooke is logical and respectful in a way that an older sibling can only become as a result of lashing out at her younger sister, only to be faced with unconditional, idiotic love. She walks the way most white young women walk, not because it’s a long, necessary part of her day, but because she has something to do—she’s going for coffee, to work, to meet her friends, to buy peanut butter and bananas, to think, and maybe to cry a little bit. There will always be a particular something to be sad about, but this is only allowed to be her primary sadness when all other sadnesses are dealt with and put to rest; once the fight with her boyfriend is over, once she figures out a way to pay for her grad school applications, once she finishes the book by that one author whose inimitable expression of despair is too much to read on the bus. She thinks her only opportunities for satisfying expression are during phone calls to her sister in another city, in another state. Most of the time her biggest complaint comes down to a supposed inability to have the same kind of in-depth, critical, and emotional conversation with whatever young man she’s currently dating as she does with her sister in another city, and it often feels (to both Brooke and her sister in another city) that she’s pushing herself further and further into desperation for meaningful conversation with whoever will listen, despite knowing that there are only one or two people that she wants to listen, and one of those people is dead.

Brooke hasn’t always lived so far away from her sister. Before her sister moved to another city in another state, they lived in the same apartment and had the freedom to waste each other’s time together. Of course, most of their time was spent fighting, because “you can’t just take my shirt, you bitch.”  Most of the time these ridiculous fights were reduced to huffs and glares as one of them left for a friend’s house or the gym, but the rare instances that allowed pettiness to explode into violent, physical, familial rage were undoubtedly unnerving to hear through the walls. At first they wondered if their neighbors thought they were insane, until they overhead (along with tenants in buildings throughout the neighborhood) the alarming nightly shitstorm that was the couple next door. The comparative normalcy was a relief; the recurring question of whether or not to call the police was less reassuring.

Before they lived in the same city and fought most of the time, Brooke was in her fourth year of her undergraduate studies, and her sister was in her first. It was at this point that their distance had been most significant.

On the day that David Bailey died, Brooke’s sister in a another city was the last to find out, as she had been on a train and a plane most of the morning on her way to visit their father, and no one had any way of contacting her, as their father paid the phone bill and this was most likely the last thing on his mind as he was finally afforded a moment to slip away from the pain and suffering that is hospice care. Brooke’s sister in another city wasn’t entirely suspecting that this would be the last trip she would be making back home to see David, but nevertheless that penetrating feeling had been prevalent among all the Bailey children for four months so far. Brooke also lived in a city separate from their father. She was two and half hours away from David, and two hours away from her sister, and her sister three hours away from David. The triangle of time separating them had never really been acknowledged, because Brooke and her sister knew that it was absolutely necessary to continue life as best they knew how, and either one of them moving to either point, reducing their geometry to one sad line, would cost them years in progress of young adulthood. The triangle didn’t need to be acknowledged. They knew David would be disappointed in any selfless efforts to take care of him or each other, as selflessness was not something he taught them—not that it was his goal to keep them selfish, rather he tried to instill in his children a sense of independence and maturity, and this was an unfortunate opportunity to prove their resilience despite their young age. And of course, the tenderness and levity with which he had raised his children (in the few post-divorce years he had with them) were lost. The man who had withered from rotund to pallid in a matter of weeks was not a dad; he had been replaced by some man who sat in the corner at the holiday party, slipping in and out of obvious exhaustion while the host explained across the house that “Oh, that’s David,” to people who had known him for years but could no longer recognize him. Nevertheless, Brooke and her sister struggled to keep levity afloat, if not for his sake then for their own.

It had since become the foremost reason for phone calls between Brooke and her sister.  

Having a sister to walk through the long process of death with you doesn’t make it easier. If anything at all, having a sister does make the process less tiresome, but nonetheless painful. Their experiences and emotions were mirrored in each other and all they could do was look on as the sting of intimate details kept them distant from every person they encountered in their daily life. Every painful remembrance of their father brought on by the scent of Old Spice aftershave picked up on a passing stranger or the jolting sounds of a truck engine starting up just outside their window hurtled them back into the silence of grief. They both knew what it felt like. They both understood exactly how the other kept their grief tucked away in the back of their minds to visit and revisit when necessary. They both sensed the same kind of lingering sadness in each other that most people would not be able to access as anything beyond sadness. They both found their sadness to be everything beyond sadness, too. Sadness was not sad for them all the time. The silence that they indulged in with the oncoming waves of grief, while most often appearing as depressing, was their most treasured opportunity at something more complicated than happiness, possibly a contentedness with the newfound void of existence that they could fill and shape with whatever they wanted—but such silence they maintained as a preservation of that potential. They each took their time alone to build. Grief never retreated and often reached for their hands at the most unexpected moments, during which they could feel their minds shrink away from the boundaries of their skulls under the pressure of loss, but it was here they learned to build. Every time Grief appeared, they willingly reciprocated its clutch and wandered through the memories it had previously tainted of their father; Grief wanted only to show them regret and self-hatred. They showed Grief the origins of those materials. They walked each other back through the thick of the pain and found the beginnings of their relationship to death that their father had been slowly teaching them as they grew.

As the years passed and they spoke to one another more and more regarding the intricacies of their individual relationships with the death, they found something wonderful. The delicate and painful parts of their lives’ worst moment gave way to such a vast appreciation and understanding of both the pointlessness of life and the importance of levity amongst seriousness. For both Brooke and her sister, general human interaction became a test as to how other people were capable of dealing with even the slightest notion of what it meant to be sad, let alone grieving, and whether or not they could understand how not to be sad about grief. Brooke and her sister found after some time that the normal conversation they enjoyed with each other was not at all the type of conversation others would enjoy. It turned out that most people found the topic of their fathers death to be cause for pity and curt apologies. Brooke often explained that her father was her favorite topic of discussion, which did not necessarily mean people wanted to engage in that discussion—likely from disbelief that anyone could so comfortably talk about the most painful part of their life with ease, let alone levity. Brooke’s sister in another city found this struggle to be extremely relatable. Conversation, for her, often drifted to their father naturally. She believed much of her eclectic tastes and thoughts were owed to her father’s parenting, and of course if any of these were discussed, she couldn’t avoid gushing over the origins of her character.

**********

I had a dream the other night, and while I don’t remember all of it, I do still recall the exact feelings from it which makes it a lot easier to remember the images I was able to hold on to. Without any exposition, I entered the dream having understood already that my life had reached it’s lowest point, and nothing I loved was available to me anymore. I had no job and no place to live, and most importantly, no one to cling my life to while I struggled to find a spot for myself. In the dream, I had moved to Germany to live with two friends, who had actually made this move in reality. I was tired in the way someone feels when they’ve realized there is no world on their shoulders, but still hold a sneaking suspicion that letting that realization sink in will only bring the full force of that imagined weight back down on them. I walked into a house and looked around at the faces I saw, unfamiliar to me. I remember thinking in deflated statements: this is where you live now, this is who you live with, this is where you sleep, this is where you will be. Then I was alone, and as if the house opened up like sprawling clouds, I felt warm and saw everything around me glow in reflection of this sudden comfort and overwhelming security. Everything I had needed was now here with me in this new place that I didn’t know, and the emotion flooded my sleeping body. I had spent so much of my recent time feeling as if I would never get the things I wanted from myself. But now, Needing and Getting had fondly nodded at each other for my own benefit. I wanted everything in front of me and it was mine. This is where you’ve always wanted to be, this is who you’ve always loved, this is where you’ve always slept, this is where you will be, this is what you want, this is yours. I was afforded a look at what my subconscious wanted to remind me of: the long-term, romanticized wants that I so frequently forget are attainable. Love and admiration beyond my limited familial circle were not necessarily foreign to me, but largely unrealistic and doubtful in my life as something I was ever deserving of, let alone on the track to receive, but here I was to receive nothing but love and admiration, simply on the basis that this new place was ready to know me and take care of me. As I stepped outside to walk through my new glowing town, I awoke.

**********

I've been thinking about that time you visited me that never actually happened.

It was kind of rainy, but that might not actually be true, maybe just how I'd like to remember it. The cafe was empty, save for one or two couples quietly eating and drinking. I stared out the window and watched a woman stuff her yoga mat into the passenger side of her car and drive away, and as this happened, I imagined turning around from the smoothie I was making, looking out into the cafe to see you walk through the front door towards the register. You hadn't even been to the cafe before, but you walked in as confidently as you always did, with each left step accompanied by that weird dip to one side that you had always told us was from scoliosis. All you said was "Hi, sweetie." You surprised me--I didn't know you were in town, and you wanted to pick me up from work.  I told you I still had another hour of work, and then I put together a bowl of food and a juice for you, and you sat down with a newspaper to wait for me. It was so nice to be able to make food for you, show you parts of my life that you hadn't seen yet, and see how proud you were that I was working and supporting myself. The cafe was so warm and inviting in contrast to the weather outside, I remember that specifically. You took me out to get mint chocolate chip ice cream at the Baskin-Robbins next to the Italian restaurant we ate at once where our waitress had a black eye and made me try polenta for the first time. We had a completely normal evening. You took me home, told me you were driving back home that night, and said you would visit again soon so we could go see that movie with Kate Winslet I was telling you about.

I looked up again and watched the woman with the yoga mat drive away, and finished up the smoothie I was making for someone that wasn't you.

It still happens from time to time. Not as much as it used to, back when I was still living in that studio on Glisan and that haze of despondence shrouded my memory and there were a lot of things I don’t remember clearly enough to visualize, but still hold enough attachment to that thinking about them hurts the same as it did at first. I do remember taking myself to see that movie with Kate Winslet I was telling you about, and I do remember leaving the theater excited to call you and tell you about how much I liked the idea of minimal sets and actors. I also remember listening to your voicemail over and over again on the bus ride home, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up because you probably couldn’t, and knowing that my incessant phone calls were probably more irritating to you than I wanted to admit to myself. I remember the first and only time you came to visit me while I was at school and still living in the dorms. I remember bursting through the doors of my building, tripping onto the sidewalk and looking down the street to see you walking towards me with that weird dip in your step, holding a cardboard box. You had brought me things you thought I needed even though I hadn’t asked for anything: toilet paper, movies, all the letters my best friend had written me and sent to your address because I hadn’t given her my address at school yet, Capri Suns, and tangerines. I was so excited to show you my new life in Portland. It had only been my third week of class and I was too scared to skip anything for you so I had you wait in my dorm room while I spent an hour and a half listening to my professor talk about Ed Weston. I remember coming back from class and finding you napping on my bed. I remember you showing me how you figured out the thermostat in our room so my roommate and I could put away the giant down blankets we had been sleeping under for a month. I remember the two of us going to see a movie together, but for some reason I can’t remember what movie it was we saw, and I remember us eating dinner at the exact same Italian restaurant we always went to after movies because the chain had restaurants near all our favorite theaters in both Portland and Bend. And finally, I remember us walking around aimlessly trying to find the parking garage you left the car in, and I remember you driving me the few blocks back to my building and then telling me you had to drive back home—you wouldn’t be staying—which surprised and scared me all at once because I knew that this was the one good time I would have with you visiting me. I knew you wouldn’t be able to visit me after this. It may have been easier to say goodbye to you that day had I known what that day would end up being in my life, and of course, it ruined every day I had with you after that because every goodbye felt like the potential last goodbye. All optimism dropped off. The plans you had made with me to get back into running at the college track and maybe visit New York had wilted, and it was harder to look at you knowing that you had said those things to me hoping I wouldn’t give up so you wouldn’t give up.

But you had already done that.

I’ve started to feel a new kind of grief lately. Grief is difficult to put into plain words, which is probably why so many people have put their efforts into writing entire books about the subject, all filled with detailed, intimate statements on what it feels like. My favorite part of those statements are the brief occasions that they don’t describe a feeling at all—it’s a completely new existence. I don’t know what this new existence is. This new grief isn’t quite touching me. It’s gently grazing me, and every time it does, I’ve lost something else.

**********

You’re walking through the forest.

Soon you’ll go back to the house, a short 15 minute walk from this point. You will go into your room and start up your computer to see if the internet still isn’t working. You will get up and walk to the bathroom to wash your face. You really ought to wash your face more often, maybe it would help that greasy feeling you’ve had recently. You will wipe your face off with the towel you use after showering, and the faint smell of mildew will remind you that you haven’t done laundry in a couple weeks. You usually keep track of it by that one pair of underwear you’re forced to wear when you really have nothing else, but you’ve showered maybe every other day so your good pairs have lasted longer with multiple days of use. Maybe that greasy feeling is just what comes with the damp weather. You will walk back into the bedroom and stop, then turn around back into the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. You will look at yourself for a few minutes, but the amount of time spent is hardly something you’d notice. Your face looks different after you wash it. It feels different. You look more calm, and softer, too. But you always know that it’s the kind of different only you would ever notice. You won’t ever seem more attractive or beautiful or handsome to another person just because you washed your face. That’s fine.

You will turn around after the few minutes of looking are over, and as you walk back into the bedroom you will hear that light dinging sound from your computer that lets you know you have a new email. You will walk over to the computer and see an email from your older brother, which is weird to you because he doesn’t ever have a reason to email you, he can just call. The internet is working again, at least that’s apparent. It will be a short email: “Call me, it’s urgent.” You will start to get a little worried, because you know what probably has happened. You will be calm, though, because ultimately you know that it couldn’t have happened yet—you’ve been waiting for it to happen for months now. You will pick up your phone and start the call, but for some reason it isn’t going through. Maybe the phone isn’t working yet either. You will think about maybe going back out for another walk, because maybe there just isn’t any service in the house, maybe it’s better by the road or by the river, or maybe on top of that hill where you think you saw a bear. You will put your boots back on. You’re really glad you got those boots because you were always complaining about the rain ruining everything you owned. You still don’t even own a rain jacket, just a few thick coats that you try not to wear for too long when it starts to pour (ideally you won’t be outside for too long anyway if it’s raining). You will pull on your giant sweatshirt that’s starting to tear at the cuffs because before you wore it and loved it, it was well loved by someone else, and that’s why you won’t ever get rid of it. Years from now, when you’re living with a roommate in the southeast part of town where you swear you’d never live, you will have two cats and you will come home one night to find your roommate throwing the sweatshirt into the trash because his cat peed all over it and he didn’t think it was worth saving, and you will say nothing about what that sweatshirt was or who it belonged to. You will tell him that’s fine, and then sit in your room for a while without crying.

After you put on the sweatshirt and tie up the boots, you will head back outside. First you walk down the gravel path towards the main road. It will be raining a little, but you usually don’t mind this kind of rain. You will see the main road ahead after a few minutes, but you won’t want to stop walking so you turn right and head towards the river past that smaller house that you’ve always been a little scared of because no one ever seems to be home during the day but every light is on at night. Why is it that you’ve never seen the person that stays there? You will decide to make use of the boots and trek through the brush, and while you do this, you remember to snap twigs and step on a few flowers so if you get lost you can find your way back, or at the very least, a rescue team will be able to see which way you went. You always think about this when walking through the forest, and sometimes you think about it when walking through the city. Maybe that’s why you’ve always felt compelled to touch every plant you pass; you’ve always secretly thought you were leaving a mark to help save yourself later. The river will be right ahead of you. You don't think you’ve been to this part of the river before, maybe you walked farther than usual. Maybe it’s a different offshoot of the river. Maybe you are lost. Maybe not. There will be a large section of a fallen tree leaning against the bank, partially sliding into the river. It will be horizontal enough that you will think it a good idea to climb onto and be closer to the rapids. It will be too slippery, though, and once you get onto the trunk you have to sit down on it to keep from falling off into the mud or the river and the butt of your pants will be soaked. You will regain your balance and assess the safest way to dismount, but that will prove to be useless and the legs of your pants will also be soaked. The water is shallow near the bank where the tree slips into the river, and in the past you’ve been careless enough to just step into the water, boots and all, but this time you will be more careful. A large flat island of a rock will sit on the other side of the fallen tree in the water, and you will clamber back up the bank and down to the other side to sit on the rock. It will be cold, but it will be dry. You will sit for a few seconds and then remember that you came out here to find service for your phone, but you forgot to bring your phone with you. It won’t matter. You know what happened. You won’t think about it directly because if you think the exact thought then it might make it come true, and you have been scared of doing just that for months. So you will sit on the rock, looking into the rolling movement of the water below you. You will think about all the places this water has been, and all the people who might have bathed in it or drunk it, or splashed in it with their families, or carried it back to their homes, or died in it. You will think about all the places this water will go after it passes by you, through your hand, and all the people you will surreptitiously touch with this water even after you’ve gone back to the house, back into bed, back to the city, back to your tiny apartment on the second floor, back to school, back to work, back to friends and the small family you have, but never back home.

You are not in the forest. You are in your bed, waking up, and your phone is ringing. It’s your brother calling and you know why. It happened. Your father died.

**********

I had another dream about you.

No.

It was about me. I had a dream about not having any parents. In the back of my mind I’ve always been jealous of other people when they talk about both of their parents—not just because they still have their father, but because they have a mother they call their mother.

In this particular dream, Mom was already dead. She had been dead for years, and you were suddenly on your way out, too. But I don’t remember seeing you in my dream. I don’t remember seeing you and talking with you and telling you I love you over and over again because it might be the last time I say I love you. The dream took place immediately after you had died, even though I had this distinct feeling of having just seen you. You were right there.

Now you’re not.

I was with a boyfriend and I think his family. It feels strange to write about a present relationship in this dream because whatever happens with that relationship will change the entire effect of reading this to myself later. Will I adjust that phrase to reflect the changes in our relationship? I was with my fiancé. I was with my ex-boyfriend. I was with my husband. I was with my friend but at the time we were dating.

You will never meet any of my boyfriends. Your life ended years before I even met him, and before I met anyone else that may be important to me the way you were. You will never know who this person is and was to me, but in this dream, he took care of me after your death. He was close to you in my mind at the time, and he was present for me and your death in my mind. The most disgusting part of his inclusion in this dream, to me, is how little he will probably end up meaning to me. That doesn’t matter.

I was with his family. We walked around outside, I think we were at a park, or a farmer’s market, or a mountain resort, or Disneyland. They took me here because they wanted to surround me with people and distract me. All I thought about while we walked was it happened yesterday, it happened two days ago, he died two days ago. I had been living with one dead parent for so long that it didn’t seem believable that you would go, too. She had died, and that was all. It didn’t cause any great pain or sense of loss in my life, because in this dream I had always lived without the luxury of a mother. Now there was even less than that. I had no father. I had no one. I was surrounded by people who were all family. I could feel the weight of my loss so vividly. It wasn’t that their presentation as a family upset me so much as their complete disregard for each other. They didn’t care why they were there together, they didn’t care that they were together, they didn’t care that I was suffering because of what I didn’t have anymore that they so clearly had in abundance. They had it, and they had so much of it.

I walked away from them. I remember walking up a sloped pathway towards a structure that could have been restrooms or a cafeteria and as I approached this building, someone called out to me and touched my back. It was a man. A particular man. I don’t know how else to establish his significance to me and to this dream other than this: in reality, I didn’t know him at all, but we were seeing each other for a short week or two before he decided he didn’t want to get to know me anymore. It was the first time I’ve ever felt so embarrassed for being so interested in a person. He made me embarrassed for my age, and for the way I talked, and for being so eager, and for treating other people with such disregard before this, but he was wonderful. The more time I spend thinking about him, the more I consider the standard he set for the type of person I aspire to be and be with. He doesn’t get a name here, because eventually I would spend my time thinking not about him, but how little he thought about me. And then I would think about all the ways in which he was wonderful, and slowly each one of those things would peel away in my mind and reveal the self-involved, self-flattered direction behind each interesting question and condescending compliment. He wasn’t better than me. I stopped feeling embarrassed.

He asked me how I was doing and I told him about my dad. In a swift and unreal motion, he lead me to a picnic table where we could sit down and he could properly console me. He sat across from me and told me how sorry he was. He used that tone of voice that people have used with me before when I talk about my dad—it’s the kind of tone that makes you hate a person for trying to comfort you because it isn’t genuine concern and you can sense exactly how much they are trying to sound concerned. But in this instance, I looked on at him blankly and thanked him, because in that moment, regardless of what he was trying at, he was trying and he was listening to me. I felt confident staring back at him and accepting his consolation. We sat and we talked. I don’t know what we talked about, but soon my boyfriend walked up to the table and sat down next to me, and without looking away from the man across from me, I introduced them, and woke up.

**********

Brooke is in another city—a new city. Brooke’s sister is not in this city. Fortunately, moving her life to a new city is not the same as the death of a loved one; it does get easier. Unfortunately, the space between sisters remained exactly the same in this move, and now both sisters are alone and sad and scared, and can more openly establish that “I think I’m depressed,” and “Oh, I think I might be too,” during phone conversations after work or after class. Loneliness is not easy to indulge in this new environment, not in the same way one might indulge their loneliness in the middle of a bustling metropolis. Here, Brooke has no one that she knows and no one that she loves, but she has been given new people. She has her new grad school classmates, and her new roommates, and a Corgi that came with one of her new roommates. She has no more boyfriend, no more best friend, and still no sister, but even in the sunken feeling of loss, she has been given too much “new” to ruminate on that loss the same way she has in the past. When one has no choice but to be alone, an entirely new sadness is piled on top of the others, because in grief, sadness and separation should be properly indulged in—one must give themselves the time to process this new separation. But when one has no choice but to remain in that separation from anything that could help them return from grief, it becomes all too easy to accept that sadness as part of everything. Everything is sadness.

Or maybe that is her sister speaking. Maybe she’s coming out of the sadness, but her sister hasn’t found the exit yet, and she can’t help but step back in to get her out of the Everything.

After her father’s death, and just as she was settling into the studio on Glisan that her sister had already occupied for a few months, Brooke cried almost every day. It didn’t matter the reason she started crying, because once it had overwhelmed her, she could remember that the particular sadness that lingered (from grief, loss, whatever) would be reason enough to keep crying, and from there it consistently became a blubbering mess of no-friends, job-stress, what-to-do-with-my-degree, I-want-to-call-dad, we-are-alone crying.

[supermysanju-blog]

Here I am on my way back home and the last thing I feel is homesick. What just happened? Disoriented, overwhelmed, nostalgic, I can barely contain myself as a multitude of feelings launch at me all at once. I pulled the plug on routine and found myself in the middle of virgin Himalayas.

A week back my relentless search for beauty brought me to a piece of nature etched by the gods themselves. The Rupin Pass, tucked away in a far corner of the great Himalayas, a trail along the humble Rupin River through hanging hamlets, gushing waterfalls, endless forests, crisp green meadows, pebbled rivulets, magical valleys, snow bridges and I feel tempted to give the plot away already.

Day 1: Dehradun to Dhaula

We began our journey up the winding roads of Mussourie. The ever-changing scenes that rushed by us charged us up for the week that awaited. We gazed down Yamuna and the trippy patterns of tall forest pines. We were slowly beginning to lose our connectivity to the world, one bar at a time. By the time we got to Dhaula, the rain gods emptied their stash of monsoon showers upon us. Curious us, we explored the modest campsite that lay by the river Rupin despite the spell of rain. A group of 18 strangers sat huddled in a tent that was soon labeled the hangout area. The group was a great mix of people across ages and different walks of life. I’d been assigned a tent that I’d share with Archana, a fellow first-time trekker. Meanwhile, the nip in the air was as real as it could get. Made me realize how spoilt I was by the convenient weather in Bombay. Minutes after the introduction and a quick debate on the trek, I found myself panicking about being hit by AMS or having the required levels of stamina to scale a height of 15350 ft, Rupin Pass being one of the country’s most difficult treks. I’d underestimated the whole affair. I crept inside my assigned tent at 8:30 and then inside a cozy sleeping bag and slept a sound sleep, something that evaded me for months.

Day 2: Sewa

Woke up at 5am after what seemed like a decade and rushed to get my backpack ready! Yummy pancakes laced with honey awaited our appetite, who’d have guessed such a delish treat at a remote campsite!

I was asked to line up with our pilot (Treppan a.k.a. 53) for the trek up ahead and off we began our week-long hike. We were immediately flanked by terraced mountain meadows on our right and rugged hills to our left and the foamy waters of rupin kept us company all along.

And then we were met by the first steep climb of the day. I remember thinking, I push myself at the gym, run every other day till I smell sweat. But none of that compared to climbing a small piece of the great Himalayas. I got to the top and collapsed on the nearest rock. Noticed that the guys in the group already got there before me. Before I could catch my breath, we were rushing off to climb another patch of heights. My muscles shivered, my mind drained, body screaming as I got to the top. Two minutes later I stood up to find myself staring at another majestic scene. Yep, it was worth it. We gorged on the juiciest peach before rushing off again. We weren’t even half way through.

This time around I lost the rest of the trekkers. It was just me, the mountains, the sound of the river echoing miles below me. I walked for an hour before catching up with them again. My back stung from the heavy weight of my backpack, despite having packed light. A quick lunch break and we were off to the little village of Sewa. Oh, did I mention the sea of red greens en route to Sewa? Beaut! Still trying to figure what they’re called.

I spotted a tap amidst all the afternoon heat at Sewa and went running to Rhik, our trek lead. Asked him if I could indulge in a hair bath. I couldn’t. No hairwash. No bath for the next week. Cold Water = Pneumonia. 😦 We spent the rest of the day playing Mafia in clever disguise of getting to know each other. Two servings of bhajiyas, a fun donkey ride and a dinner later, we gave in to sweet well-earned slumber.

This had mentally been the toughest day, perhaps because we didn’t know what to expect.

Day 3: Jiskun

Up again at 5am, maybe I could get used to early mornings after all? We began our trail through neck high farms of mountain weed and greeted the river Rupin at its pebbled bed. Somewhere along the way, a very hyper four-legged babe latched on to us. I christened him Rupin a little later in the day, it seemed like he meant serious business with all the tailing us. After a quick hello to the lush banks of Rupin, we set sail again and crossed the bridge that separated Himachal Pradesh from Uttarakhand. This time I was racing ahead of the pack. Maybe to prove a point, girl power! The climb got tougher. I had to keep stopping to catch my breath. My friend, P1, kept reminding me to stay hydrated and sip on water. We emptied a packet of glucose into both our water bottles, bought a few candies for the journey at the first shop we’d spotted since Day 1. After the first patch of relentless climbing, the trail straightened up a tad bit to bring some temporary relief to our aching knees and thighs. I picked some speed again as we whizzed past the loveliest greens. Up ahead a recent landslide played spoilt sport owing to which we were left with no option but to climb a steep patch of fallen rocks and a slippery mud hill. Our trek pilot a.k.a. 53 pulled me up in a fashion I was left feeling like a sack of feathers (I am not).

Post the little adventure; we parked our tired asses at our second home stay of the journey. A beautiful wooden abode perched atop the edge of Jiskun, a little hamlet. We gazed up at the naked mountains, made peace with the fact that we won’t be greeted by snow at the Rupin pass. We didn’t let this dampen our spirits though. Compensation came our way in the form of Maggi  Mahaan noodles, a yummy local delicacy at Jiskun along with some hot spicy momos with a side serving of good ol’ mountain conversations. 🙂

That night we slept like babies while it rained down on Jiskun. A surprise awaited us on the other side of ‘morrow.

Day 4: Saruwas Thatch

And it snowed! Pristine white snow laced the mountain caps at a distance as we stepped down for some brekky next day. Rain at our current altitude translated to snow at our ultimate destination. Yay! Energy pumping through our veins, we begun our next trail however we had to bid adieu to Subhash & Archana from the group. I’d grown fond of their company but their departure meant I was the only girl left in the group. A bout of self doubt crept back into my mind.

Two hours into our trek and we arrived at the hanging village of Jhaka, where houses literally hung off the mountain edges. We hung out at one of these quirky houses before resuming our journey. A daunting climb at every juncture, this was slowly proving to be one of the most difficult trails on our trek. While the ever changing scenes took my breath away, the thinning air with every little climb was quite literally taking my breath away too. Stay away from me, AMS, I barked in the quiet of my mind and went back to drooling at the greener landscapes around me!

After lunching by the Rupin river, we found ourselves creeping along the walls of the mountains that flanked us, high above the river. The trail was only wide enough for a single foot. Tricky that. We spotted the first snow bridge, jumped over logs of wood, climbed further up the hills, collapsed on random stones, got up again to run and climb and walk!

Late afternoon we camped by the forest at Saruwas Thatch. We battled the shivering cold to collect wood for a bonfire however our plans went down the drain much thanks to the rains! We had to initiate an unplanned hike to cross over higher up the river and across a daunting snow bridge in the evening. Our campsite for the day had to moved to a different location owing to bad weather and logistics issues. We embraced the change in plans!

My warm clothes were drenched after the climb, the temperatures dipped further and so did my confidence. Any remains of energy and enthusiasm I had left in me, waved goodbye! I was convinced I’d need a miracle to complete this. P1 lent me an extra pair of fleece from his towering backpack. It was a painfully cold though short journey back into my little tent. My hands were so cold, they trembled as I struggled to open up the sleeping bag. The bag was drenched on the outside, uninviting and cold. I fought every nerve in my body to slip into it and forced some sleep upon myself. The following day proved to be my toughest.

Day 5: Dhanderas Thatch (Lower Waterfall Camp)

At 5 AM, I scrambled out of my sleeping bag and froze. How was I supposed to crawl outta my tent and brave that cold, get past breakfast let alone the trek. My hands begged for some warmth, out came the leather gloves. I momentarily contemplated skipping the meal over a few extra minutes of warmth in my tent.

We’d only just begun the climb for the day, and I found myself breathing heavier than sedated monkeys! I stopped two minutes into my hike and let the others pass me by. I needed to breathe. My thighs refused to support my climb. I had three full days of climbing left to reach the top before we begun our descend into Sangla. Nothing qualified as legit motivation at this point. I perched myself on a huge rock and watched the others go past me. A few moments later, Arvind came up to me and chimed in, ‘Chalo Reemaji, dheere dheere chalo. Pohoch jaoge!’ I wasn’t going to succumb to petty tears of self defeat. Despite being without will, I got to my feet and took the tiniest and slowest steps in the history of forever. This continued for a good 60 minutes during which I halted at every other twist and turn. I resigned to the assumption that the rest of the guys had probably completed the trail and were perhaps already napping for the day.

After pushing myself for a few more miles, we saw 53 running towards us! We’d somehow managed to catch up with the group. They’d halted to grab a bite. Somehow in that moment, seeing everyone raring to go, hearing them go, ‘Don’t give up!’ lifted my spirits. I looked around me. When did we arrive here, at this unreal beautiful juncture in our journey. My eyes had to witness the scenes atop the Rupin pass. Picked myself up again and walked across the most beautiful display of pebbled Rupin waters, climbed higher up the hills, crossed a slippery snow bridge and found myself in the middle of the greenest meadows peppered with cows on the moo. 🙂

I jogged my memory to check if I’d seen something more beautiful than what surrounded me in that tick. Nah! This was the BIG HIMALAYAN SHOW OFF. The landscapes stood around us as proud paintings etched in hues borrowed from paradise.

We stood and just stared. So beautiful. I would never do justice to that beauty with my shabby words. The journey had all been worth it. I remember Uncle Colonel telling me that I’d make it. He said let the others pass by, you enjoy the trail at your own pace, but don’t give up! We’ll all be up at the pass together.

That night, I found myself singing a song to a huddled group of hikers around a bonfire and the silence of the mountains. I’d never find the courage to do this back home. The steepest climb stared down at us the next day but I was going to try and focus on the happy vibes!

Day 6: Rati Pheri (Upper Waterfall Camp)

Today, we were going to quickly gain 1000 mts in height. I knew I’d make it. My immediate neighbours, Chohan and Harish gave me the last remains of their Gatorade to help me conquer this next climb that had been labeled as the toughest yet. 🙂 I’d already won the battle against my mind the previous day, I plunged head first into this day with a truck full of confidence.

The climb had been broken down into three waterfalls, one above the other. It was tough but so was my resolve. Quick small steps, aching muscles, couple of water sipping breaks and we were through to the top of the third waterfall. A few DDLJ poses and a lunch later, we set off to scale the last flash of height.

What we didn’t anticipate was that this was going to wreck us! We were looking up at a damn near 90 degree steep climb. Soon, an acute headache entered my world! That mixed with breathing trouble and muscle ache made a terrific combo. The climb didn’t seem to end. Every little patch I’d somehow finish conquering would immediately say hello to a new pile of height. This was definitely that same damned eternal beanstalk poor Jack had to climb in a fairytale. No clue how it got here.

I climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed some more. Hello? Anything upstairs? I have been played by the Himalayas, I screamed. Oh, the pain!

After what seemed like an agonising eternity, I reached the campsite and how. It was a basin locked by beautiful barren mountains laced with snow. Thank goodness I reached when I did, ‘cause minutes later we found ourselves at the epi-center of a hailstone shower. Tiny shiny little morons! If I subtracted the chill from the scheme of things, then I’d probably admire their icy beauty. All hail the mountains! Soon little flakes of snow crashed the party too! The campsite had slowly turned into a semi-white wonderland. Acclimatisation. Check.

Shivered I did, for the rest of the day. That evening, I managed to win a round of Mafia as the mafia for the first time since meeting my comrades! :p

I refused to go seek my tent, ‘twas colder than ever! I would turn into cold slaw. I couldn’t possibly put my family through that. Not to mention, the horror stories that plagued the campsite.

But the porters traveling with us needed a place to sleep too, so after dinner we evacuated the activity tent and crept into our respective little plastic dens. I slipped into 5 layers of clothes that night. Brr!

We were almost there! I could barely wait! 🙂