#since this journey began I've been fortunate to get by

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Still coping with homelessness and doing my best to count my blessings when I can.

Though I still haven't found a permanent home within my means, I'm happy to share that I have a safe place to stay since last night and for the next six nights. It's a huge relief not to have to scrabble every couple of days to find a place to lay my head (including the breakroom at work), and I'm so grateful to have access to hot showers and a bed.

However...

The bad news is that this comes at the cost of leaving me severly cash strapped. Between my checking account and my pocketbook, I've got exactly $40 to last until my next paycheck (August 31). I have groceries enough to feed me the next few days and under a quarter tank of gas (the only driving I do is back & forth to work). So, as much as I don't want to ask for help again, I must because next Thursday is still ten days away. The town food shelf is open one morning a week, and that's while I'm scheduled to work. I would greatly appreciate any donations people can spare to bridge me to the 31st.

As always, thank you in advance for your understanding and kindness!💗Even a reblog could make a crucial difference in my situation.

my kofi

[permanentswaps]

Family Reunion – Catching Up With Alex

Inspired by @bodyswapper, specifically: Family Reunion Pt. 1 and Family Reunion Pt. 2. Also read my sequel Family Reunion – Steve’s Youthful Journey.

Two years have flown by since that unforgettable family reunion, and let me tell you, life couldn't be sweeter. I wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and marvel at the sight of this perfectly chiseled physique. It feels like winning the lottery every day. Seriously, if you could see me now, you'd understand why I have no regrets about what I did.

You see, I've fully embraced being Alex. It's not just about the body; it's about the confidence, the charm, the sheer power that comes with it. And let me tell you, I'm living my best life.

But about those family reunions? Yeah, I steer clear of those now. Sure, there's a part of me that misses the chaos, the laughter, and the strange tradition of swapping bodies. But the risk? Nah, not worth it. Even though I bound Uncle Steve to secrecy with Grandad's ancient magic, who's to say some other mishap won't expose the truth?

Like what if I got chosen to swap and it failed cause I sealed myself in. I don't need anyone digging into why it didn't work. (Honestly, I don't know the full extent of the magic binding me to this form, but I'm not eager to test its limits.)

Or, what if Uncle Steve or anyone else wins contest, and then gets Grandad to lock tem in this body instead. I mean, would you put it past them? This physique is like a work of art, and it would only be a matter of time before someone else has the same bright idea I did.

Besides, I've got plenty of other things to keep me occupied. Actually, to sidestep any questions from family about why I’m perpetually absent, made a bold decision: I relocated to Paris.

Now, to keep myself financially afloat, I decided to do something that perfectly complemented my newfound physique: I started an OnlyFans account. And let me tell you, it's been quite the hit. People from all around the world want to catch a glimpse of this body, and who am I to deny them?

With each sultry photo and steamy video, my following grows, and so does my bank account. It's surreal, really, how quickly it's taken off. But I guess when you're blessed with a body like mine, the world can't help but take notice.

As my OnlyFans grew, it caught the attention of some Parisian locals. Now, I'll be honest, my French is still a work in progress, but I manage to get by with a charming smile and a few choice phrases. And let me tell you, it hasn't hindered my social life one bit. Take the other night, for instance. I received a message from a guy named Benoit, a suave Parisian with an air of sophistication about him.

Benoit was only 24 years old, but he had the confidence of someone who had the world at his feet. Rumor had it he was the heir to some extravagant family fortune, and let's just say his lifestyle reflected that.

As I stepped into his apartment, I couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer grandeur of it all. From the plush furnishings to the sweeping views of the city skyline, it was clear that Benoit was accustomed to the finer things in life.

Over glasses of champagne and whispered conversations in broken French, Benoit and I shared stories, laughter, and more than a few lingering glances. Benoit was an intriguing combination of intelligence and physical prowess, his toned physique a testament to his dedication to fitness. Yet, despite his apparent confidence, there was a subtle hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

As we moved closer, the tension between us thickened. With a primal instinct taking over, I wasted no time in asserting my dominance. In a swift motion, I threw him down onto the bed and began to tear off his clothes, exposing every inch of his flawless skin. My fingertips danced across his body, tracing delicate patterns along his curves, eliciting shivers of pleasure from his trembling frame.

As I teased the outline of his cock and balls, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips, his head falling back in ecstasy. And then, in a whispered plea that sent a shiver down my spine, he uttered those three words that ignited a fire within me: "S'il te plaît, Daddy."

Hard as a rock, I moved upwards, brushing my lips against his neck, a soft sigh escaping his lips as I whispered, "Suck my cock, boy."

Without a moment's hesitation, he eagerly obeyed, taking me fully in his mouth.

After a few minutes of sheer ecstasy, I gently grasped his chin, guiding his gaze to meet mine. With a silent command, I motioned for him to kiss me, and he responded without hesitation, his lips meeting mine in a fiery embrace.

As our tongues tangled in a dance of passion, he shifted his position, straddling his legs over my waist, his body pressed tantalizingly against mine.

As we continued to make out, I couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. Guiding my throbbing cock between his cheeks, I felt the heat of his anticipation radiating against my skin.

A flicker of hesitation crossed my mind. I really shouldn't be doing this, not without protection. But as he looked down at me with those pleading eyes, his moans a symphony of desire, it was all the sign I needed.

With an urgency that eclipsed all rational thought, I thrust my cock up into his tight hole, the sensation of his warmth enveloping me in a wave of ecstasy. Holding down his shoulders to prevent any chance of escape, I surrendered myself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of our shared passion.

As I continued to pound into him, his expression transformed from one of initial discomfort to one of immense pleasure. The tension in his muscles melting away.

After a few minutes, we shifted positions, moving into missionary. With me on top, I took control, my hand wrapping around his cock as I stroked him in time with my thrusts.

Looking up at me with eyes squinted in pleasure, he uttered those words in the most adorable accent, "I'm close."

Keeping pace with our rhythm, I encouraged him with a husky whisper, "Fuck yeah, baby, say my name."

And with each desperate moan, each syllable of my name rolling off his tongue in a cascade of pleasure, I felt a surge of raw desire course through me. "Alex. Aleex. Aleeeeexxxxxxxx," he moaned, his voice a melody of ecstasy that echoed in the dimly lit room.

"Putain," I moaned in response, our bodies trembling in unison as we released our loads at the same time.

Basking in the warm afterglow of our shared passion, I couldn't help but marvel at the thought that if I “frenched” like that every day, I'd be fluent in no time.

[unabashegirl]

Meeting her || H.S

Author's note: The following piece is based on The Golden Boy one short from earlier in the year. This story will be how Harry and Y/N met. This took place before the World Cup . This is going to be a three-part story! This is part one. I hope you enjoy! The next part will have smut. Let me know what you think

PS: these IA pictures are getting out of hand.

masterlist

word count: 5.1K

As the autumn leaves danced in the crisp Manchester breeze, Y/N found herself lost in the beauty of this new city. Having recently moved here, her life felt like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with new experiences and adventures. One such adventure awaited her on a chilly evening, as her friend Emma invited her to dinner with her new boyfriend, Harry.

They first met in college during their second year. Y/N got invited to her first party but didn't know anyone. Everything turned around when Emma bumped into her in the kitchen. As the years went by, their friendship got stronger. But when Y/N switched her major to art, things took a turn. Emma didn't like the decision and started keeping her distance.

Y/N came back to Manchester after spending nearly a year in Italy. During her time there, she learned a new way to paint and work with ceramics. Even though her family was closer, she felt a bit out of place, like a foreigner, in her own native country.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N's phone buzzed with a message notification and a follow request on Instagram from Emma. Curiosity piqued; Y/N opened the app to find a warm greeting from her old friend. Emma had just learned that Y/N was back in town and was eager to reconnect and catch up on all the happenings since their last meeting. Ever since, they've been regularly meeting up for lunch dates, dinners, and various events.

Emma had been excitedly telling Y/N about Harry for weeks, and tonight was the night she was going to meet him. She kept going on about how he was a professional football player, having just joined Manchester United, and how his salary was sky-high, potentially making him extremely wealthy. Emma was evidently proud of this and made sure to let Y/N know, almost bragging about it.

They met at a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, where the aroma of delicious food filled the air. Emma was beaming with excitement, introducing Y/N to Harry as he greeted them with a warm smile. He was handsome, with kind eyes that seemed to reflect his genuine personality.

"Y/N, this is Harry," Emma said enthusiastically.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Y/N replied with a friendly smile, extending her hand for a handshake.

"The pleasure's mine," he responded politely. "I've heard that you're an artist."

Y/N nodded shyly, "Yeah, mostly into paintings and ceramics."

“Anything that we might have seen?”

"Nothing. She's just a beginner, honey," Emma interrupted before Y/N could respond. "She just returned from Italy from picking up a new skill, hoping it might help her sell and turn a profit. You know how it is in the art world – always searching for that breakthrough.”

Y/N felt a momentary offense, a twinge of embarrassment sweeping over her. Not everything Emma had said was entirely accurate. While it was true that everyone aspired to a breakthrough, Y/N had already experienced one, prompting her journey to Italy. Having been invited there, she returned to Manchester with a renewed focus on opening her first gallery. Whispers of her name began circulating in the corners of the art world.

"Fortunately, Harry has already had his breakthrough," Emma added before taking a sip of her martini.

Emma's chatter mostly revolved around Harry's career, the glamorous lifestyle associated with professional football, and the immense potential for wealth. While Harry remained modest and humble about his achievements, Y/N could sense a hint of discomfort in his eyes.

Y/N was someone who valued depth in conversation, she yearned for more than just the superficial. Emma's constant emphasis on Harry's financial prospects was getting on her nerves, but she held her tongue, not wanting to jeopardize her friendship. It was rare for her to have friends, and she didn't want to ruin this budding friendship.

Throughout the evening, she observed Harry, realizing that he was a genuinely kind and down-to-earth person. He seemed uncomfortable with the focus on his financial success, preferring to discuss other aspects of life. Their conversation flowed naturally when they discussed their interests, hobbies, and favorite books.

As the night progressed, Y/N found herself connecting with Harry on a deeper level, appreciating his humility and kindness. Despite the initial annoyance caused by Emma's bragging, she discovered a potential friend in Harry—one who valued genuine connections over monetary gains.

"So, how was Italy? Is it everything that people say?" Harry inquired, his curiosity evident. Having not yet ventured outside the country, most of his experiences were rooted in local settings, particularly in the realm of his games. Eager to hear about Y/N's international adventure, he leaned in, genuinely interested in the tales she might share about the enchanting country he had yet to explore himself.

Y/N smiled, taking a sip of her drink before launching into her narrative. “It is everything and more. The art, the history, the landscapes – it's like a dream. I ended up indulging in the most amazing pasta dishes. And the art is in every corner.”

Harry's eyes widened with interest, "Really? What kind of art did you see?"

Y/N's enthusiasm bubbled as she shared, "Everything from Renaissance masterpieces to contemporary street art”.

As the evening came to a close, she felt a sense of contentment. She had made a new friend in Harry, someone who shared her appreciation for genuine conversations and meaningful connections. Little did she know, this chance encounter would mark the beginning of a beautiful friendship that would enrich her life in more ways than she could have imagined.

Throughout the week, Emma continued to invite her to various events, eager to integrate her into her social circle. One evening, she invited Y/N to attend a football game where Harry would be playing. Y/N was genuinely excited about the prospect of watching a live game and supporting Harry, but Emma's comment about dressing up and putting on makeup stung.

"You should definitely come to the game! It's going to be so much fun. Dress up a bit and maybe put on some makeup—you never know, you might catch someone of Harry's caliber," she said with a wink, attempting to make it sound like a lighthearted joke.

Y/N forced a smile, masking the hurt she felt. It was clear Emma was implying that Harry was out of her league or that she needed to "improve" her appearance to even be in the same league as her or him. She wasn't confrontational by nature, so she simply replied, "Thanks for the invite, Emma. I'll see if I can make it."

As the day of the game approached, Y/N debated whether to attend. The comment had left a lingering discomfort, making her question if she should subject herself to such superficial judgments. But her curiosity to watch the game and support Harry won in the end.

On the day of the game, she wore a casual yet presentable outfit, wanting to feel comfortable and confident in her own skin. She met Emma at the stadium, where she greeted her with excitement.

“I'm so glad you made it! This is going to be amazing," she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I'm looking forward to it," Y/N replied, attempting to infuse her response with enthusiasm, though beneath the surface, nerves churned. Anticipation mingled with apprehension as she contemplated the upcoming interaction. Y/N couldn't shake the memory of previous encounters, where backhanded comments and thinly veiled compliments had become a common thread.

As they took their seats, the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The crowd's energy was infectious, and she found herself caught up in the excitement of the game. Watching Harry play was impressive—his skill and passion for the sport were evident.

Amidst the cheers and celebrations, Emma leaned over and said, "Isn't he amazing on the field? Imagine being with someone like him."

Her words struck a chord, reminding Y/N of the shallow perspective she seemed to have about relationships. She chose to focus on the game and cheer for Harry, pushing aside the hurt she felt. Deep down, she knew she deserved genuine connections and friendships that weren't based on appearance or someone's profession.

As the game ended and they made their way out of the stadium, she appreciated the experience and the opportunity to support Harry. However, she also realized the importance of surrounding herself with people who valued her for who she was, rather than making her feel inadequate or lesser than because of societal standards or external perceptions.

She continued to focus on her art, pouring her heart and soul into the canvas as she prepared for her upcoming art show. Emma's persistent invitations and comments had left a mark, and she found solace in the therapeutic strokes of her paintbrush. To protect her mental health and maintain her sense of self-worth, she began gently declining Emma's invitations and started distancing herself from her.

One afternoon, while heading to the art supply store, she unexpectedly crossed paths with none other than Harry. Her hair was up in a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose, and she was wearing baggy clothes slightly adorned with paint stains. She greeted him with a warm smile, surprised yet pleased to see him.

"Harry! Fancy running into you here," she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Hey! How have you been?" he responded, his friendly demeanor putting her at ease. Sporting athletic attire, he appeared in the midst of post-run casualness, on his way back to his apartment.

"I've been busy with work, preparing for an art show. It's been quite hectic," she explained.

"That sounds amazing! An art show? I'd love to see your work," Harry exclaimed, genuinely interested.

"Sure! You and Emma are more than welcome to come. It's on Saturday evening," she extended the invitation, acknowledging his enthusiasm. Including Emma felt like the courteous thing to do, although she harbored no intention of having her presence at the event.

"Where are you off to?" Harry inquired, his eyes drawn to her appearance and the sizable tote bag slung over her shoulder. He found the sight rather adorable. Harry admired her confidence and the unique way she expressed herself. While he hadn't seen her art yet, he was convinced that if it reflected even a fraction of her personality, it would undoubtedly be incredible.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he awaited her response, eager to understand the purpose behind the tote bag and the destination that had captured her attention on this particular day. The genuine interest he took in her pursuits was evident, a testament to the budding connection between them.

"I'm headed to the supply store. Ran out of a few things in the middle of a painting session," she explained, a hint of frustration in her voice. Having to cut her creative session short was always a predicament, leaving her feeling somewhat scattered. "That's why I look like such a mess," Y/N felt compelled to clarify, a touch of self-consciousness in her admission.

"Mind if I tag along?" Harry inquired, his reluctance to head to his apartment evident. The idea of being alone didn't appeal to him, and his living space still carried the lingering feeling of belonging to someone else.

"No problem. I just hope it won't be too boring for you," she said, a sudden nervousness creeping in. It felt akin to introducing a boyfriend to her parents, as he was about to witness a small yet intimate aspect of her life—her painting ritual. Despite the nerves, a giddy excitement bubbled within her. Rarely had someone shown enough interest in her work to accompany her in such moments.

As they strolled, they exchanged stories about their lives—his experiences with football, her passion for art, and the challenges and joys they both faced. Harry shared the excitement and pressure of being a professional athlete, and she talked about the joys and struggles of being an artist.

And Harry asked with genuine concern, "I noticed you've been a bit distant lately. Is everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share her feelings. But seeing his kind and understanding demeanor, she decided to be honest. "To be honest, Emma's comments have been bothering me. It felt like she was implying that I'm not good enough” Y/N shook her head, attempting to banish the same thoughts that had haunted her for years. "Or maybe I just misinterpreted her words," she mused, a flicker of uncertainty lingering in her mind.

Harry's eyes softened, understanding the weight of her words. "I'm so sorry you felt that way. Emma can be a bit... oblivious at times.”

His words warmed her heart, reassuring her that true friendships were built on understanding and mutual respect.

"We're here," Y/N announced, swinging open the door of a small but charming store. "Hi, George!" she greeted, waving enthusiastically to the elderly man stationed behind the counter at the back.

"Ms. Y/L/N! Good to see you! How's that collection coming along?" George, a familiar face and one of her most significant suppliers, recognized her immediately. He had even gone the extra mile to order specific brushes and paints for her, a testament to his belief in her talent.

"Oh, it's going!" Y/N chuckled, making her way to the paint aisle. "This is my friend Harry, George." Harry beamed, waving like an excited child being introduced to a stranger.

"Mr. Styles! Number nine in Manchester, right?" George exclaimed, recognizing him. "Great season you're having! It's good to have you."

"Thank you," Harry responded shyly, still adjusting to being recognized and receiving compliments from strangers.

"You're not going to swap me for Harry, are you, George?" Y/N teased as she bent down to reach for spatulas and sponges on the bottom shelf.

"Never. Still my favorite," George assured, prompting chuckles from both Harry and Y/N as they continued their joint venture, collecting items from Y/N's list and heading towards the checkout.

As Y/N gathered her art supplies, Harry couldn't help but admire the quaint charm of the store. It was filled with the rich scent of pigments and the subtle aroma of wooden easels. The artistic ambiance enveloped them as George continued to chat with Harry, discussing his recent successes in Manchester.

As they bid farewell to George, the doorbell chimed, marking the end of their visit. Stepping back into the bustling street, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the support she received, not only from her favorite art supplier but also from Harry, who had ventured into her world with genuine interest and a bright smile.

"That was wonderful. Thank you for taking me," Harry commented warmly, carrying Y/N's tote bag through the lively streets. The cityscape buzzed around them, a backdrop to the shared experience they had just enjoyed.

Y/N smiled in response, her eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot," she admitted, a subtle vulnerability in her tone. "No one has ever accompanied me to these sorts of things."

Harry's smile broadened, understanding the significance of those words. The weight of being the first to share in a part of Y/N's world tugged at his heartstrings. As they walked side by side, the city lights flickering overhead, an unspoken connection blossomed between them.

They found themselves enveloped in a comfortable silence, the echoes of their shared laughter still resonating in the air. The streets, alive with the rhythm of urban life, seemed to dance to an unspoken melody that mirrored the newfound understanding between Harry and Y/N.

Harry accompanied her all the way to her apartment, insisting on ensuring her safe arrival.

"I'll see you at the art show," Y/N said, her voice carrying a mixture of anticipation and gratitude. She gave him a quick but warm hug before disappearing into the foyer of the building. The promise of their reunion at the upcoming art show lingered in the air, a shared moment they both looked forward to. As Y/N disappeared from view, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of contentment. The day had been filled with meaningful conversations, different from his usual exchanges with his girlfriend.

On the night of the art show, the venue was buzzing with people who had gathered to appreciate and celebrate art. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with an array of colors, emotions, and creativity. She was both excited and nervous, eager to share her work with others.

Not only were her paintings displayed on the wall, but her ceramics pieces adorned the space as well.

As the evening progressed, Y/N noticed Harry and Emma arriving, accompanied by a couple of Harry's friends. She greeted them warmly, hoping for a pleasant evening. However, it didn't take long for the mood to sour.

Emma's disapproving looks and hostile demeanor became evident as she roamed around the exhibition. Her discomfort seemed to intensify with each piece she viewed, as if she couldn't bear to see Y/N in the spotlight.

"What am I even looking at?" Emma whispered to Harry as they stood amidst a sizable crowd gathered around one of Y/N's largest paintings. "And why is everyone gawking? It's not a big deal; everyone can do it." Harry stayed silent; his attention fully absorbed by the intricate details of the artwork.

"Stop it," Harry gently pulled her hand, attempting to hush her down. "You're being rude." However, he couldn't deny that Y/N's creation was something truly unique. The canvas held an amalgamation of colors and emotions that seemed to dance and intertwine, capturing the essence of her artistic vision.

As the crowd marveled at the masterpiece, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for Y/N. Her work, a reflection of her passion and creativity, had garnered the attention and admiration of those present. He admired the way she fearlessly poured herself into her art, creating something that not only spoke to him but resonated with a broader audience.

Despite Emma's dismissive comments, Harry recognized the significance of Y/N's talent. He hoped that, with time, Emma might come to appreciate the artistry that captured the attention and imagination of so many.

“Let’s go. Why are we even here?” Emma turned to Harry and his friends, “She is not even that close of a friend. She is just a struggling artist”.

Unbeknownst to Emma, Y/N stood silently behind her, absorbing every single word that had slipped from Emma's lips. The gallery buzzed with the murmur of impressed onlookers, blissfully unaware that the subject of their discussion was right there, an invisible presence in the sea of admirers.

Y/N's heart sank at Emma's dismissive comments, her vulnerability exposed to the unintended audience. The weight of those words settled on her shoulders, adding a layer of discomfort to the pride she felt for her creations. Yet, she chose to linger in the shadows, absorbing the unfiltered opinions that echoed in the gallery space.

“Emma, that’s enough” Harry interjected, his voice carrying a mix of anger and concern.

As Emma turned around, her gaze met Y/N's, and the air grew thick with an unspoken tension. Y/N, having overheard every word of Emma's critique, stood there, a silent witness to the candid commentary. The sudden realization that Y/N had been present all along cast a veil of nervousness over Emma.

Caught off guard, Emma's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. The vibrant atmosphere of the gallery seemed to dim momentarily; the weight of the words exchanged lingering in the space between them.

Ignoring him, Emma cleared her throat, her voice sharp and accusatory, "You've been avoiding me, Y/N. I don't appreciate being treated this way, especially after everything I've done for you." Caught in the discomfort of the moment, Emma felt the need to assign blame. Admitting fault was inconceivable, especially in front of Harry and his friends; maintaining a positive image was paramount. Emma couldn't afford to be perceived as a negative force, and so, the instinct to shift responsibility to another party took hold. The desire to preserve her reputation and uphold a facade of positivity outweighed the need for genuine self-reflection.

Y/N tried to maintain her composure, choosing her words carefully. "I've been busy preparing for this show and focusing on my art. I never meant to make you feel ignored."

Emma's face twisted into a bitter expression, and she snapped, "You think you're so special with your art, don't you? No one cares, Y/N. I stopped talking to you in college because of these same reasons. You need to realize that you made a mistake by changing majors. Art is not going to feed you.”

The threat stung, hitting close to home. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and collected despite the rising humiliation. "Let's discuss this later, privately."

She was relentless, determined to exert her dominance. "No, we'll discuss it now. Harry, tell her she's out of line."

Harry, torn between loyalty and what was right, looked conflicted. "Emma, maybe now's not the best time—"

Emma cut him off, her voice venomous, "Oh, so now you're siding with her? Fine, have it your way."

She stormed off, leaving Harry visibly troubled and Y/N mortified in front of his friends and other attendees. She wished the ground would swallow her whole, but she reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong.

Harry approached her, his eyes filled with apology. "I'm so sorry. She was completely out of line."

She forced a small smile, trying to brush it off. "It's alright, Harry. Let's not let this ruin the evening."

Deep down, she knew she deserved better than Emma's toxic behavior. As the night unfolded, she chose to focus on the genuine appreciation she received for her art, determined to rise above the negativity and continue pursuing her passion and genuine friendships.

After the tumultuous confrontation with Emma, the art show continued, and she tried her best to immerse herself in the joy of sharing her work with appreciative art lovers. The support and admiration she received from the attendees helped ease the sting of Emma's outburst, allowing her to refocus on the success of the evening.

As the night came to a close, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Several of her pieces had been sold, and the positive feedback had boosted her confidence as an artist. She was both proud and grateful for the experience.

As she started to wrap things up and close the gallery, she noticed Harry waiting outside. His presence was a comforting sight after the rollercoaster of emotions she had endured throughout the evening.

"Hey," she greeted, trying to offer a genuine smile despite the lingering discomfort.

"Hey, congratulations on a successful show," Harry said warmly, genuinely pleased for her.

"Thank you. It means a lot," she replied, feeling a sense of relief knowing that the worst was behind her.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry about Emma's behavior. That was completely uncalled for," Harry apologized again, sincerity in his eyes.

She appreciated his concern and understanding. "Thank you, Harry. I know you tried to intervene, and I appreciate that."

Harry nodded, and then a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

A pang of hunger reminded her that she had skipped dinner in the whirlwind of the art show. "That sounds perfect. Let's go."

They found a nearby café and sat down, the atmosphere much more relaxed and pleasant than earlier in the evening.

Harry's presence was a balm to her earlier distress, and she was grateful for his kindness and understanding. Despite the events of the night, she felt a genuine connection with him, appreciating the way he had handled the situation and his willingness to stand by her.

As the night came to a close, and she bid Harry farewell, a mix of emotions swirled within her. There was a flutter in her heart, an undeniable attraction that had grown stronger throughout the evening. She had started to like Harry more than just a friend, and it made her nervous.

Y/N knew the reality of the situation. Harry was Emma's boyfriend, and pursuing anything beyond friendship with him would be a betrayal of their relationship. Loyalty and respect were paramount, and she wouldn't compromise those values for her own desires. She couldn't deny the chemistry and connection she felt, but she also understood the importance of boundaries and staying true to her principles. It was a delicate balance between her burgeoning feelings and her commitment to doing what was right.

In the following days, she wrestled with her emotions, trying to put distance between her heart and the potential complications that could arise. She focused on her art, pouring her feelings into her creations, finding solace in the brushstrokes that paint her emotions on the canvas.

That was until one day when she found herself at home, and the intercom unexpectedly rang.

"Ms. Y/L/N, there's a Harry Styles wanting to see you," the voice on the other end announced. Shock rippled through her; it had been a few weeks since she had last seen him. Y/N had purposely kept her distance, fully aware of the feelings that had developed within her.

"Yeah, let him in," she replied, a mix of anticipation and nervousness lingering in her voice. As she unlocked the door, she settled back into her painting, attempting to distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions.

The front door creaked open, and soon, a soft knock echoed through the space. "Y/N?" Harry's rough voice called out, filling the room with a mixture of familiarity and uncertainty.

"In here," Harry heard from the foyer, prompting him to close the front door behind him. He followed the sound of her voice, traversing through the space until he finally located her. There she was, sitting on the wooden floor with legs crossed, her hair fashioned into a bun, and wearing glasses that complemented. her.

Harry cradled a warm brown paper bag, emanating the aromatic allure of Chinese cuisine. He knew of this particular restaurant that served delectable dishes, a tantalizing choice for his unhealthy food cravings. Eager to share this delightful find with Y/N, he approached her with a welcoming smile, lifting the bag in presentation.

"I brought some food," he announced, the tantalizing aroma wafting from the bag.

Curiosity sparked in Y/N's eyes as she inquired, "What is it?"

"Chinese," Harry nervously replied, hoping that his culinary choice would meet her approval.

"Good choice," Y/N commended, setting aside her brush and rising from the floor. It was at that moment that Harry couldn't help but notice her attire – a pair of overalls, worn with an easy casualness. However, the revelation didn't stop there; the absence of anything beneath the overalls exposed the side of her breast, a subtle detail that heightened the air of intimacy in the room. The vulnerability of the moment lingered, as did the tempting aroma of the Chinese delicacies. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah” he cleared his voice, “just hungry” Harry didn’t know if he meant for the meal or fo the sudden urge that he had to feel her breast. He recognized that Y/N had distanced herself, a mirror to the sentiments he harbored toward her. The desire to be close to her lingered within Harry, fueled by a genuine fondness. He admired her, not just for her presence but for the profound connection that blossomed in their conversations.

Harry appreciated the way she listened, her attention genuine and unwavering. In those moments, he felt more than heard; he felt understood on a level that transcended the superficial. Y/N held the key to unraveling his thoughts and emotions, creating a unique bond built on mutual understanding and genuine connection.

"How have you been?" Y/N inquired, taking the lead as she guided Harry towards the living room. The air was charged with a mix of anticipation and a hint of vulnerability. "I saw your match last week. You played really well."

Harry's response held a touch of concern, reflecting the echoes of unanswered messages that lingered between them. "I haven't heard from you since your art show. I thought you were mad at me," he confessed, revealing the worry that had gnawed at him.

"I just thought it would be best to gain some distance between us," Y/N explained, her movements deliberate as she set plates on the coffee table. The unspoken complexities of their connection hung in the air, entwined with a hint of secrecy. "I-I am sure that Emma wouldn't like to know that we are spending this much time together."

As soon as the word 'distance' left her lips, a palpable tension surged through Harry. Panic set in, triggering a rapid response. He hastily placed the bag down, reaching out for Y/N. In a swift motion, he grasped her wrist, pulling her towards him with a sense of urgency.

"Harry," Y/N cautioned, her hand pressed against his chest, attempting to maintain a boundary. Yet, defiance glinted in his eyes as he refused to relent. He freed her wrist, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other found its place behind her head, gently pushing her closer.

"No," he declared, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere. His lips met hers with a hunger that spoke volumes, a fusion of longing and passion. Initially resisting, Y/N succumbed to the intensity of the moment, reciprocating the kiss with an equal fervor. The living room became a stage for a silent exchange, where unspoken emotions and lingering desires found expression in the fervent embrace of their lips.

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I’d imagined it”

QUESTIONS OF CHAPTER (answer below) Do you condone Harry and Y/N’s actions? Do think Emma deserves get cheated on?

[altades]

The adventurers’s diary

With the end of our adventure finally crossed I have decided to find an empry book and quill among the piles of junk we’ve picked up along the way to string my erratic thoughts into some sort of sensable paragraghs. If only to use up all the ink I have stacked away in camp, though even a full chest of empty pages won’t be enough to depict all the troubles we have weathered.

My name is errelavant, so is my past, for I have lost them in the end. And I will not mention them for the fear that skummy bard decides to steal it, though I do not belive he holds much favor for the truth. But if any adventurer finds this message, forgotten in a place I have long since abandoned, or stacked away in a corner of a dusty bookshelf and be curious enough to read it, you are welcome to share the last shreds of humanity I can conjure up.

I have been no hero, no warrior, no chosen when it all began. But I had a desire that has been etched into my soul, so deeply a thousand scars couldn't carve it out. To be loved, but more so, to deserve to be loved. It was what made me so eager to help anyone and everyone I've met. Just so they would look at me kindly, just so they would stay, just so they would keep their words and hands gentle when they brushed against mine.

By a twist of fate I was granted an opportunity to serve as a savior not to a few, but to thousands, maybe millions, of souls. I was the beacon of light to the whole of Faerun, and even to those beyond it. My journey is sure to be immortalized in countless ballads, my heavy footsteps followed by bards and historians alike. They will sing in awe, yet they will never know the cost of their salvation.

"We own you our lives!" They said in unison. "We'll never forget you." They promised. They didn't know the person they cherished was already dead.

Their body was dismembered, consumed and twisted into a new form, disgusting and vile.

Their soul was devoured by the very creature they sought to destroy.

Their mind… Is still there. Shreds of consciousness, beliefs and ideas, slipping away with every passing day.

Now I stand where they stood. They haunt me like a ghost of you as a child. Like somebody you used to know, somebody you used to be, but through time and change no longer are. When your hair was sun-bleached blond, only to darken with age. When your voice, light as a fairy bell once, got deeper and stronger. When your skin, smooth and pure, got covered in scars big and small. My changes are… more dramatic. It makes it hard to believe I was ever myself at all.

Perhaps my love saw it too. After all of our companions went their separate ways, we went together at first. But it didn't last long. I sensed it in his voice, saw the disgust in his eyes, felt in his touch before he said anything. He did not want to be with me anymore. I cannot blame him, for my new appearance would only attract either the bravest, or the insane, and he is neither. But it still hurt. At least, I think it did.

It's getting harder to grasp the sway of my emotions. What was a living ocean of feeling is now but a puddle in a desert, quickly drying up. I know I should've been heartbroken when he left, after all, it is what is expected of a person when the life of their life leaves them. But it's hard to feel broken when you no longer have a heart.

Maybe I should end this, while there is still something left of me to end. But he has taught me that I am more than what I am willing to sacrifice, so let my last act of devotion to him be to act selfishly, and to live on no matter what I may become.

I wish my companions were here with me. Maybe they could guide me, as I've guided them, to a better future. Bring out the best in me, believe in good in me, show me the way. But I am alone, and the hunger grows. I envy vampires, for they can consume without killing. And they have the privilege of never seeing the reflection of the monster they have become.

Fortunately, we will see each other soon. I only hope to keep the shreds of my identity together long enough to be able to bask in their company, for they hold the parts of me that cannot be lost.

The rest of the pages are stained with blood, unintelligible.

[myucornerorg]

After reading a couple nonfiction books from the library (one being the "clean living" book seen in the first pic), I decided to read some of the mangas downloaded to my Kindle.

The first one I read was Magilumiere: Magical Girls Inc, which I already posted about. As for the others in the first pic, I actually finished The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash first after Magilumiere, but since I finished it and My Stepmother and Stepsisters Aren't Wicked on the same day, Goodreads listed them weird. Then yesterday I started the manga in the second pic, My [Repair] Skill Became a Versatile Cheat, So I Think I'll Open a Weapons Shop.

The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash is one of those "reincarnated with a past life's memories in a fantasy world" kind of fantasy stories, which I think is an Isekai subgenre?? Usually it's used with "reincarnated as a villainess" stories, though, and this doesn't seem to be that kind of story (unlike other similar stories, we're not told where the main character, Ivy, came from or how she got reincarnated into this world at the beginning - only that she has memories of a past life...so that already is different). Anyway, in this story Ivy gets ostracized when she's identified as a "starless," basically someone who has magic but at a zero-star level, which makes her magic so weak she's basically useless. Even her own family rejects her, and later the kind fortune-teller who helped her learn how to survive in the forest dies because the village chief heard she associated with a "starless" and refused to provide her with the healing potion she needed. After this, she takes off, using the survival skills and basic magic bags the fortune teller provided her with to get by. Having no money at first, she's forced to salvage through town dumps for resources, or eat whatever animals she can capture with traps (she does have a monster taming ability, as the title suggests, but hers is so weak she can only tame super weak monsters). She eventually manages to make some money from selling field mice she captured, and even snakes in one chapter (those she sells to the apothecary). A few chapters in, she encounters a super weak slime that even she, with her weak power, can tame. After naming her Sora, they set off together, and Sora ends up being more useful than Ivy expected, since it can absorb both organic and inorganic matter (most slimes in this world can only do one or the other). It may even be able to heal, if the ending of the volume is any indication. (According to the bonus short story, though, Sora is not very good with directions lol).

My Stepmother and Stepsisters Aren't Wicked is, as you might guess from the title, a take on the classic Cinderella story. Except in this case the Cinderella character, Miya, is the illegitimate child of a rich man, and that man's wife and daughters (the titular stepmother and stepsisters) take her in when her mother dies. But while she expects them to be really mean, they're actually really nice! But the mother is still stern and intimidating, and the daughters are spoiled and always trying to one-up each other, so their kindness kind of comes across in a comedic tsundere sort of way. Miya constantly worries that she's offended them, only for them to respond completely positively, no matter what happens. It is funny, but at the same time I feel like such a gag might get old after a while. Not sure though.

As for the last one, My [Repair] Skill Became a Versatile Cheat, So I Think I'll Open a Weapons Shop, like I said, I just started reading it. It's a fantasy about dungeon exploration, much like the Delicious in Dungeon series I've been watching on Netflix recently. But this one obviously has a different story. The main character, Luke, is a seasoned adventurer with 15 years of experience under his belt, but since his only skill is [Repair], a skill which has next to no usage in combat, he's still an E-rank adventurer (the lowest rank that is allowed to do dungeon raids). He finally got recruited by a powerful hero to join his dungeon raiding party, only to be treated as their pack mule and ultimately betrayed by the hero over a relatively minor issue (that doesn't even seem to be his fault). Left by his former party mates in the dungeon to die, he resolves to at least find a way out, even if all he has is his [Repair] skill and an old sword the hero gave him out of pity. Fortunately for him, he's able to make his [Repair] skill evolve seemingly subconsciously (hence the "cheat" part of the title, I guess), which, combined with finding a shortcut by punching a hole in a rock wall with his sword (something even the hero in his party couldn't do), allows him to finally escape after 2 weeks. He then helps save a samurai girl named Sakura who is cornered by a dragon by lending her his sword, and then using his [Repair] skill to heal her (he's not sure he can at first, since the skill doesn't usually work on living things, so when he succeeds he's as surprised as anyone - also doing so DOES make him pass out for half a day, so he's not crazy OP, like heroes in these stories often are). After making it to the settlement where Sakura and her friend Sylvia (daughter of the local innkeeper) are living, he decides to take a break from adventuring (at his level, he can't re-enter the dungeon he came from by himself anyway, as adventurers can only enter dungeons that are at their level or below, unless they're in a party with a leader of the right level, which Luke was before) and use his [Repair] skill to open a weapons shop, since the town doesn't have one currently (probably because the forest where Luke found Sakura and Sylvia just recently got classified as a dungeon). And, as far as I've read, this seems to go well (the fact that he helped kill a dragon certainly helps bring in customers). He does get into a bit of trouble with some local knights, though, because the members of his former party have gone missing, and since he got out alone, he's a prime suspect behind their disappearance. Also, he harvested mithril from the wall he broke, which only certain people are allowed to harvest (though to be fair he didn't know it was mithril, so he gets a pass there, though the knights still make him replicate how he broke the wall as proof of his story). And that's about where I'm at in the story.

Definitely enjoying my reads so far!

[facade]

art vent, kind of makes me look like a shallow person

FOR clarification i'm 20. turning 21 in two months. yippee! what an eye opener

the point of trying to profit your art, especially using your art to help fund for survival since you were 11 - you realize that while you want to improve your art for yourself, you're so consciously aware of what parts would appeal to strangers who see your art.

because you don't want to appeal to others to enjoy your art, you want to appeal to others to garner money and funds. i've ebegged on this site for almost a decade, on so many different accounts and even used my art as much as i could to get even more money. to pay bills, to pay for food, to help my mother in medical emergencies. since i was only 11 years old, by the way. a lot of the time, while it is a huge part of my reason to keep improving -- i don't actually think of reasons such as improving my art because 'i want to go to college' 'i want to be better' as much as my main reason being: i want this to sell to people.

that being said, my art style is something im so happy with right now for myself. but i think like. you have to really make your art your signature. that way, people will want to buy what you can give them. but algorithm is just, so hard to fight with now. the heartbreaking part is that, even if i'm at my 'peak' in art.

and my art has always been my one consistent interest, thats never faded. it's apart of my daily life. my routine, my medicine, my hobby, my enjoyment. i need this to live in many different ways. whether it be for providing my funds via commissions, coping art for trauma, or generally to express my happiness for things in my head, etc. i need this hobby or i will die. its the one skill ive had my entire life thats stuck, and its something i'm *good* at. and i've kept up with it to this day.

my art looks consistently good. flattering. i would say at some points it feels.. professional, sometimes. i am consistently proud and satisfied with my art and haven't struggled on pieces as much as i used to several years ago. it took me 2 months to come up with illustrations. now ive been pumping them out with ease. commissions are so much faster. quicker. ive really upgraded. i'm efficient, quick, and my stylization journey has been amazing.

yet..

this has been the hardest i've ever fucking struggled to make money, ever. since i was 11 years old. i've never.. had so much difficulty. i feel spoiled, honestly, when i know so many other artists struggle filling commissions too. but i've always had good fortune, i guess. good luck. but not since the year began. it's been so hard to fill in requests, so hard to fill slots. even when my prices are cheaper, it's still so hard. which is crazy, because 2 years ago i was consistently filling slots like crazy. i had consistent income, for the most part. i was able to help my family, avoid eviction, pay for water, clothes, food. emergencies like car wrecks, medical stuff -- god, its insane how much my art has helped me. it's scary. to think about what woulld happen if i didnt have this skill.

back then, like my art looked like this in 2021.

i look back and i wonder. this is fine, its definitely my art style. but how did i makee so much money off of stuff like this? so much more than i do now? i still draw fanart, and my art's been getting better. i think its honestly just bad luck, or maybe algorithm has flopped a lot of my stuff. either way, it's sort of humbling. Extremely humbling, that even with all this improvement - it still may not be enough to get me anywhere. i've never struggled before, trying to open commissions even when ive always focused on original content primarily. i know its hard to get popularity when you only draw ocs, but ive been fine for the most part. getting by, until lately.

i think i'll just have to keep working harder. see what people enjoy, but its just really ego crushingi think. And i could care less about popularity or anything. i think the really awful part is that im just stressed all the time about how i can keep making money off of this when its been so hard to even fill slots, let alone gaining peoples interests. Is this competition related? is this just a shit time for artists? am i just flopping. Who knows.. ohwell. ill survive

[kroashent]

Mermay 2023 - Yannic Corentin, The Barbarian - 2

The Armorican Peninsula is a strange and wondrous place, a mist-shrouded land full of magic and mystery, where the mortal realm of Bedouar and the timeless vastness of Faerie coexist side by side, the great veil ripped apart by uncontrollable magic, causing time and space to collapse into disarray.  Unearthly fog rolls in, cutting off travelers from where they came and pure magical chaos rolls across the region in great storms.  Fortune can be found in the borders of Faerie to the brave and the lucky, death for the foolish. 

The treacherous coast of the region, the Ar Mor Bras, is no stranger to these twists of fate, home to the lost city of Ys-Beneath-the-Waves and its accursed princess, Ahes Dahut.  Throughout the ages, some individuals find themselves caught in the whirlpool of magic surrounding this mystical site, and are drawn in by the phantom bells of the sunken city and the enchanting, enticing song of those trapped by its curse....

--------------

Back in 2019, I launched a special series for Mermay, an art project to develop a small, but important part of the lore of Alvez, the world of Kroashent.  The Marie-Morgane of Ys-Beneath-the-Waves are one of several merfolk races of the world.  For this project, I decided to "adapt" each of the Dungeons and Dragons Character Classes into a character as they may appear in Alvez, then transform these characters into mermaids with art and short stories!  Since then, I've been working hard on developing the world and the characters who live, there, even writing an ongoing novella, Kroashent: Bal des Loups, which you can read right now, for free!  A lot has changed as I worked and some of the art and stories seemed like they could use an update!

--------------

Yannic Corentin was a "barbarian" chieftain living in the Southwest of what would become the Duchy of Letha.  When a series of bold raids along the river by the Daughters of Ys began to target Yannic's village, the chieftain undertook a quest to get to the bottom of it and reclaim those taken by the mermaids.  Yannic's journey brought her to the doorstep of Ahes sunken city where he, or rather, she, learned the truth about the fate of her village.  Transformed into a mermaid herself, Yannic was reunited with her people, which had been her goal in the first place.  She quickly adapted to her new life, becoming one of the most celebrated warriors of the Beacon City, defending her new home from the many threats against it.  Yannic's one complaint is that when she was a human, she was considered quite large and imposing, which her new form is considered less so, as she is one of the smaller Marie-Morgane.  She makes up for it with energy and passion, earning the nickname "the Little Hurricane of Ys".

See Yannic's original form here: https://www.tumblr.com/kroashent/716148425933127680/mermay-2023-yannic-corentin-the-barbarian?source=share See Yannic's first (mermaid) appearance here: https://www.deviantart.com/kathalia/art/Mermay-2019-The-Barbarian-Yannic-Corentin-2-796354353

[elisaphoenix13-cullrian]

More Than Words (Ch. 6)

The journey back to Skyhold had fortunately been event free which Cullen was especially thankful for since his armor was damaged. He had even gone straight to Dagna to ask her to repair his armor before he even asked for any reports of what happened while he had been gone. More paperwork was piled haphazardly on his desk and the sight itself started a headache at the base of his skull.

That had been what he focused on for the next couple of days, the first simply sorting them all out in the hopes that he could send them off to Rylen or Cassandra to be done but it was only a meager amount to his misfortune. But further investigation had him throwing at least half of them into the fire whether they weren't necessary to respond to or because they were a waste of his time.

Like some silly love note a visiting noble must have slipped onto his desk.

No thank you.

Dorian found humor in it though. The mage was a more frequent visitor to Cullen's tower, so much so that he procured a chaise from somewhere and positioned it behind the commander's desk but near the fireplace. If Dorian needed a break or simply didn't have anything he needed to research, he spent a lot of his time reading in Cullen's office. It was a balm to his nerves anyway. A part of him always worried about the man when he wasn't in sight because of the collective dislike of the Tevinter mage, but it had seemed to abate little by little once the people began to realize that Dorian wasn't the enemy and truly wanted to help their cause.

He also liked to pester Cullen when he felt that he had been working too long. Like now. Dorian was slowly growing persistent in poking and prodding at whatever part of Cullen he could reach, which happened to be his thigh.

He only grunted irritably for the first hour before he finally gave in and dropped the papers in his hands. "Would you like to get some lunch?" Cullen sighs.

Dorian closes his book with a snap and a victorious smile before placing it on the chaise to read later. Then Cullen was being led by his tunic out the western door and toward the tavern. It was a little embarrassing, but any soldiers nearby that happened to glance their way didn't seem to bat an eye. Perhaps it happened more often than he realized.

"Dragging me around is really unnecessary," Cullen huffs and straightens when the mage finally releases him. "I also could have sent a runner to fetch us some lunch."

Dorian turned on his heel to level an unimpressed look at the commander before grabbing his hand.

Just because you went on one of our little excursions doesn't mean you can hole yourself up in your office for days on end. It'll do you some good to get out once or twice a day and let your mind rest.

The mage pulls his hand away with a knowing glance and Cullen rubs the back of his neck with a sigh. Dorian probably had a good point. Being constantly hunched over wasn't helping with the symptoms of his lyrium withdrawal, and a brief walk at the very least could help.

"How could I hole myself up when you're around to poke and prod at me?" Cullen huffs humorously, opening the door to the tavern when they arrive. Dorian steps in first and walks down the stairs with Cullen close behind and they find an empty table to sit at. "I've been meaning to ask, and I apologize if this is…uncouth…but have you tried to find a way to reverse the damage?"

Dorian raises an eyebrow until Cullen motions to his throat and he reaches out to take his hand.

I've tried a couple of things, but Vivienne thinks she might have an elixir she can make that will help. She's in the process of making it and it should be done by this evening. Dorian glanced up at Cullen and smirks. Do you miss the sound of my voice Commander?

Cullen couldn't fight down his blush. "I'll admit…it has felt unnatural for you to be so quiet. I know you want to go back home to Tevinter and try to make changes but I fear you won't be able to if you can't speak your mind."

Dorian only gave him a fond smiles and sat back just as the barmaid came by with a couple tankards of ale and the food they were serving for the day. Cullen sent her off with a smile and some coin before digging into his meal with gusto. He always took advantage of having an appetite when he had one, courtesy of the withdrawals, but he began to notice little by little that his appetite remained more and more. Perhaps because Dorian pestered him into a somewhat regular eating schedule? When Cullen refused to eat because of a lack of appetite, the mage personally went down to the kitchens and hand picked what he thought would entice the commander to eat.

He was rather good at it too. Cullen did end up eating everything Dorian brought him, as well as the water, albeit slower than usual. But he did eat. Those instances were fewer and far between than in the beginning.

"Fancy britches got you to come down from your tower, eh?" Sera says, making herself comfortable on the bench next to Cullen…and helping herself to the bread the barmaid brought by moments before. "Been seeing more and more of you. Think it's good for you. Makes you less stuffy and less of an arse."

Cullen huffs. "Someone has to be."

"Leave it to Cassandra. Your pointy sticks do better when you're in a better mood and they actually see you." Sera cackles when Dorian snorts at the elf's description of Cullen's soldiers. "I'm surprised, you know?"

"About what?"

"That you haven't skewered the mage here–not like that." Sera says when Dorian chokes on his mouthful of stew. "Is sex all you think about? Don't answer that. I meant because even though he can't talk anymore, I'm sure he finds other ways to get your attention. Magic, right?"

Cullen ignores his own blush. "Not always," he admits.

"I thought you didn't like them. Letting him use any magic on you at all is still weird."

"...he's different." Cullen mumbles, shoving some stew soaked bread into his mouth. 

It was true. Dorian was different but Cullen was exactly sure why. He was different before they kissed, and that had only confirmed the fact. He didn't know what they were to each other but he knew for a fact that they cared for each other greatly. More than friends he was willing to bet. Dorian flirted but he didn't kiss just anyone. And he especially didn't hand pick food for them. That was something others did for him. At least back in Tevinter.

"Have you crossed swords yet?"

Cullen groans and looks at her with a halfhearted glare. "Don't you have someone to prank?"

Sera cackles again and nimbly jumps to her feet. "Guess I could do something to your office again. But I won't tell you what. Takes the fun out."

As she practically skips out of the Herald's Rest, Cullen scoops up the rest of his stew and then washes it down with some ale. Sera was…a lot. He questioned her intentions when she first joined the Inquisition but eventually found that she was relatively harmless. As were her pranks. It did drive him crazy when he discovered she had been the reason his desk wobbled a few weeks ago. He was ready to tear out his hair and Dorian found the entire thing amusing.

Looking back on it now, it was what the Inquisition needed. If they were all too serious all of the time, some of them could die without enjoying what they had left of life. That's all Sera wanted to prove. The Inquisitor wholeheartedly agreed and helped her on occasion.

"If she makes something wobble again, I'm going to put my sword–" Cullen starts to grouse until Dorian chuckles and reaches over to pat his hand. "You laugh now, but I'm sure she'll do something to your clothes eventually." Dorian grimaced and Cullen smirks. "Are you satisfied that I've eaten now? I would like to get back to work."

Dorian sighed dramatically but nodded as they both stood and headed back up the stairs and towards Cullen's tower. The moment the commander opened the door though, he was surprised to see that Vivienne stood waiting by his desk. 

"Ah. There you are dear. I've finished the elixir I promised you. I hope it works as intended." She says as she holds out a flask for Dorian. When he takes it, she frowns the slightest bit. "If it doesn't, I'm truly sorry. This is the only thing I believe can help you to my knowledge. But all you have to do is drink it. If it is going to work, it can within the hour or by tomorrow night."

Dorian nods gratefully and wastes no time in uncorking the flask and draining its contents as Vivienne tilts her head in acknowledgement to Cullen.

"Commander."

"Vivienne."

"Good night gentlemen." She says as she leaves the tower and when the door closes, Cullen turns to regard Dorian.

"Anything different?"

Dorian opens his mouth in an attempt to say something but nothing comes out and he shrugs. He didn't seem too worried that any results weren't instantaneous, but Cullen could only imagine that he was still frustrated. He was frustrated as well. The way Dorian spoke to him kept him on his toes, and also didn't insinuate that the commander was stupid. On the contrary, Cullen was surprisingly well-read and intelligent that Dorian had been pleasantly surprised to find out after their first initial meeting. It was what led to their frequent chess games. Their conversations could vary from embarrassing flirting on Dorian's part to questions about Ferelden history or something the mage had just read and wanted Cullen's opinion.

A break from military subjects that Cullen didn't realize he needed until then. He made it a point to schedule regular chess games with the mage, and that led to their current…relationship.

How is your shoulder? Dorian asks after grabbing Cullen's hand.

"Hmm? Oh…it's fine. Like it never happened." Cullen replies honestly, nodding when Dorian motions toward it in a silent request to check it. He had to remove his tunic so the mage could properly assess it, and he eventually heard a pleased hum from him. "Did it leave a scar?"

"No." Came a whispered reply. So quiet that Cullen wasn't even sure he heard it, but it had him turning on his heel so quickly, it made his head spin. He was met with Dorian's wide eyes.

"Did you…?"

Dorian touched his throat with the very tips of his fingers in just as much surprise and Cullen could tell that the man was afraid to test the possibility that the elixir worked in fear that they had both imagined it. The mage's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and then again as he met Cullen's eyes again.

"Cullen."

A faint whisper that felt like a scream in his ears, but in the best way. His name never sounded so sweet and he couldn't help but throw his arms around the mage and pull him to his chest with a surprised laugh. A happy one. It was then he realized how much the situation had weighed on him. Cullen felt responsible for Dorian's torture. Like if he had gotten to him sooner, none of it would have happened. A part of him knew it wasn't his fault in any way, and Dorian would agree with that part, but because he cared for the mage so much…

"Never again." Cullen nearly growls. "As long as I live, I will never let you get hurt like that again."

"The sentiment is appreciated but unnecessary," Dorian whispers slowly. The muscles in his throat were still getting used to working again. "I already told you amatus, you came and that's more than what most would have done."

"The Inquisitor would have."

"As a friend," Dorian nods. "But you…you didn't come out of duty."

Cullen clears his throat and his face heats up at the obvious insinuation in Dorian's words. Just because he knew there was a chance because Dorian returned his kiss all those weeks ago, it wasn't confirmation. There was…hope? In Dorian's eyes. Cullen truly hoped his months of reading the mage better than others wasn't failing him now.

"Tell me." Dorian requests softly.

Tell him? Cullen was awful with words and Dorian knew that. It was why he preferred to speak with actions. He could be hot-headed with words, a loose cannon, but with actions, they came from his heart. Surely Dorian knew that? Of course he did, but hearing it was still a different matter. Maybe he was just as insecure as Cullen was and wanted the confirmation too. The hope that why Cullen came for him was what he was assuming. The commander even admitted to himself that he wouldn't have done it for another. With an exception or two, but those retrievals would have been out of duty. Because it was his job.

Dorian was not on the list of duty. He was on Leliana's and the Inquisitor's. A member of the Inquisition worth the resources to find and rescue.

But Cullen did it of his own accord. Without a second thought or worry about his duties. Dorian was more important at the time. His heart screamed in terror when the Inquisitor's party came back and told them the news. All he could think about was that Dorian was unaccounted for and unsafe, and it spurred him into action. He was blind to everything else.

"I love you."

If everything he did and felt wasn't love, then he didn't know what love was. But the look of pure relief and joy that crossed Dorian's face quelled any more niggling thoughts. Any doubts that Dorian didn't actually feel the same.

"At the risk of sounding nauseatingly maudlin and saccharine, when you came…I was so relieved that my pain was the last thing on my mind." Dorian admits and tightens his arms around Cullen. "Thank you."

Cullen said nothing. Only tightening his own hold on the mage and inhaling the scent of roses and cloves. He noticed before that Dorian liked to switch between roses and cinnamon but he was sure that the mage would say something along the lines of how boring it would be to smell of one thing all of the time. As long as he was alive, Cullen might not have cared if Dorian smelled like nug shit…the mage on the other hand would want a bath no matter his condition.

"...tell me." Cullen says, mimicking Dorian's earlier request.

"I already have." The mage whispers in response, pulling back to cup Cullen's face and kiss him.

For once, Cullen's doors didn't fly open to interrupt him and allow a soldier in to demand his attention. He was granted the time to allow his hands and lips to explore the mage in his arms, which he did under the assumption that another time like this might not come as soon as he wanted. At least until he was quite literally shocked and he had to jolt away from the kiss purely on instinct.

"Ah…I'm sorry." Dorian mumbles. "Regaining my ability to speak has me in a mess of emotions. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No. I was just startled." Cullen says. "Maybe it's best if you rest anyway. The potion may have worked but your throat isn't used to so much–Dorian." 

The commander sighs when the mage's mustache quirks up in humor, making it clear where Dorian's imagination had gone.

"I'll have you know I'm quite put off that you've seen me completely in the nude but you haven't shown me the same courtesy."

"If you complain, you may never." Cullen chuckles and finally moves away to continue with the paperwork on his desk. It got an overdramatic, somewhat offended gasp from Dorian.

"You, Commander, are not a nice man." Dorian coughs after his small outburst and Cullen frowns.

"Please rest. The elixir will be meaningless if you over do it."

"Yes, yes. Alright." Dorian acquiesces and walks over to lounge on the chaise with his previously discarded book. "I suppose we have to look out for each other don't we?"

Cullen hums in agreement. Even he could admit that he forgot about his own needs while focusing on Dorian's health and vice versa. Although the mage would argue that Cullen was the worst of them. Dorian at least answered to his stomach's insisting grumbles. Which was why he was found poking at the lion when it was past time for him to eat. The first time it happened and the soldiers had seen it, they thought Cullen would turn at any second and bite Dorian's head off.

It never happened and they quickly got used to the fact that Dorian was an exception to many things. They actually went to the mage when he wasn't around to notice when Cullen was having one of his days. He appreciated his soldiers attentiveness, but was also embarrassed that he didn't take care of himself to set an example. Others had told him that the soldiers only appreciated the work he did and wanted to make sure he took care of himself while he looked out for them.

"Will you sit with me?" Dorian requested quietly a few minutes later, and Cullen looked behind him at the chaise. 

It was obvious that was what he meant and not the backbreaking chair, I don't know how in the world you sit in that thing. It's no wonder you've been so grumpy.

"Very well." Cullen says softly, gathering up the reports he needed to read and sitting gingerly by Dorian's legs. "If you need to rest, you may use my bed too."

"You know I would."

"No wine right now Dorian. Let the potion do its work." Cullen says without looking up from the report in the top of his stack. He knew by instinct now when the mage was eyeing a bottle of wine. Specifically the one on his desk.

Dorian huffed, but didn't argue and turned his attention back to his book.

[apple-babbles]

Plane Ride to Heathrow

So... I guess I should actually start writing my whole UK journey before I grow older and my memories start messing with me.

(God I hope not, I'm already forgetful as I am.)

(But I'm also hoping that I won't weep as I'm writing this because of how nostalgic it's gonna be. Good, good times.)

Well, so, I've had some trips on the airplane. Some of the longer ones by the time I'm writing this would probably be 1) about 6 hours to Incheon, South Korea, 2) then around 9-10 hours to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, and 3) lastly 16 hours to London, UK.

Since I'm here on the subject of my UK trip, we'll talk about the last one.

For some context, I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to University College London in... you guessed it, London. And it would be my first time visiting a European country, let alone taking such a long journey. The 16-hour plane ride wasn't like straight without transit, though. I actually enjoy taking public transportation (bro, ain't no way I'm flying there on a private jet—I'm no Beyonce) including trains and buses, so sitting on the plane for hours would be no problem for me.

I began actual the trip from CGK, Jakarta, with the first destination to DXB, Dubai. I, along with my three other friends who also were about to start our studies at the same uni, departed with Emirates. We got the ticket for about... 9-10mio? Crazy expensive. However, I'm not kidding if I said I looked like someone who lived under a rock once I boarded the plane. It was probably the best one I've been in?

Look, as I said, it's my first time being in such a huge airplane like this. I'm so impressed by the tiny stars on the ceiling (love the purple shade as well) and how they lit up when the lights were out. So darn cute hello??? And the entertainment provided was also very complete; you'd get to explore recently-released movies, listen to some music, watch series, and even play some games—hence I think why they have this console-looking gadget as seen in the third picture. I did a little bit of everything; I watched several movies until I was sleepy, then switched to music to help me relax before catching some Zs. Oh, I forgot to mention one little detail; the flight was around midnight. I think we boarded when it was almost 1 A.M. in the morning.

Also, my cabin luggage was broken right before I was about to board. RIP. Luckily, my friends were helpful and one of them brought sellotape with them, so we stitched it to the broken part. It was one of the wheels, and the luggage made an annoyingly loud sound as I dragged it with me. Lordy.

Anyways, it took about 8 hours from Jakarta to Dubai. I think I slept through it, mostly, if not for my excitement exploring the screen in front of me. We were also given some bread and beverage—as seen in the third picture—which were quite enjoyable. I had no idea why I ordered juice because apparently the juice in all airlines is the same. As in they're quite superficial and rather too sweet for my liking. But either way, it was an enjoyable 8-hours flight.

We landed in DXB the next morning, around 10-ish. After dealing with the immigration and everything, we spent some time in DXB since we had about an 8-hour gap to the next flight. I mean, it was a long journey, but on the bright side I could explore DXB to the point I even memorized the isles and hallways and corridors, considering how awful I am at navigation.

The three of us decided to have lunch together and tried this Asian restaurant. We ordered those meals above—which unfortunately I can't remember what they're called. I mean, the one on the right surely tasted like fried rice (I think it tastes similar to biryani?) and the one on the right has a rather sweeter flavor. Either way, again, it was pretty delish, since I'd rather explore the food options than buy just some random chicken from fast food restaurants.

[mirrorvinephotography]

This week is about Yeon ~. Our new adopted home kitty...🐈..Honestly I've never expected a random kitten walked in our living room, wondering around the house while asking for food, AGAIN... This has happened before and it still happen again. Cats/Dogs are sustenance to us if we feed them with food/water or offer some kitty/doggie snacks. 

I adopted this small kitty name Yeon~ from a Korean Drama about a nine-tailed fox. You know, Lee Dong-wook? Yup. He is one of my favourite actor in K-dramas. He's getting more handsome in his early 40's and my boyfie looks like him. 😆😆😆 Love you bae~

3 weeks ago on Sunday night, a lost kitten appeared in front of the garbage bin, found him seating quietly beneath the grass. My mom was outside collecting dry clothes and saw a lonely kitten and asked him to come in. The little fella walked in, followed my mom until it enters the living room. Dad surprised as he saw an orange cat (exactly like how my previous Oyen when he was just a kitten) slowly strolling around the living room. The kitten looked lost, a small dirt found on his tiny pink nose, his tiny beans looks like tiny white socks but softer. He has a beaitful feature for an orange species. His big round cute black-orange eyes smirking at me. I was at the kitchen with my sister after we had dinner and we went to the kitten. He was curious about the surrounding, trying to figure out what's happening and where is this place. 

I walked to him and used my left palm to carry him as his small innocent dreamy eyes staring at me. He had tiny male balls behind (oh~ a male ah?) with a clean butt.... Are you Oyen's kid? Are you from somewhere else? Did your previous owner abandoned you? While observing his body, I noticed his long fur, dark orange and white, a 2 blended colors just like a typical orange cat. His face looks tired and confused. Immediately I looked for the late Oyen's food to feed him. He followed us to the kitchen and ate the Royal Canin. Once he finished his food, he began to start his small journey around the house. He started to climbed up to the washing machine, a few minutes later, he went to the toilet, pooping on the floor sink and left us to clean it up (Walaoeh, how clever this kitten? Did his previous owner taught him this?) and then he start to follow us whenever we go. My dad kept asking him if he was Oyen's son due to the familiar attitude as Oyen. Our Oyen has gone missing since last July 2023 and yet to returned until today. 

My mom assured that this kitten must be abandon by the previous owner due to his active stage or perhaps he was left alone accidentally from the house. I examined his body once again to confirm if he is free from any symptoms of cat's illness/disease. Fortunately, his fur not coming out or sticked to our shirts when we hold him and his fur is healthy, beautifully groomed. He must have been self-grooming all the time after a meal or something. His attitude is similar to Oyen, except that he was so polite to pooping at the toilet's floor sink. What a gentlemen this little kitty. Even Momochan still pooping in the cage unexpectedly. (Momochan is still no.1 in our family). I am getting worried when Momo is aging since she has been laying down in the cage and sleeps a lot.

His meow? - a soft tone, unlike a lion's roar. He crawls and sniffing to my hand, bite my leg and rubbed his small body against my ankle seeking for warm and love. What a tiny cute baby. 

What a wonderful little child. This orange kitten needs lots of love since he was previously left alone. Up until now, I have no clue how this tiny beautiful kitten was found outside of our house gate. On Monday evening after work, I go to SpeedMart to buy a few wet food and dry food for Yeon. The next plan is to buy Royal Canin dry food to maintain his diet and health...Emmm, how did he survived outdoors alone? How did he find food/drinks and shelter? All this kept running in my mind and I still yet to give him a name.

Kobe?

Haru?

Haku? (Like Jun's Kitchen cat, Haku...)

Oden?

Yeon? - my dream cat's name.

At first, I decided to call him Kobe (Koh-Bee) but my sister mocking me "Kobe Beef ~ Kobe Beef~".😂 Lama-lama nanti I fikir dia daging lembu pula...Boyfie said Kobe is a nice name just like the late basketball player Kobe Bryant. I answered, "Kobe Broyen" and he 😆😆😆. Lol ~ My mom was even funnier when it comes to name cats. She randomly dropped "Snack" as his name. Melissa likes the name "Snack" due to his orange cat personality. Mom has been asking how the kitten walked in randomly to us? My dad said" You asked for Oyen. And now, he sent another one to you". 😂😂😂😂 But, actually it might be true...😳

On Saturday morning (Before the night Yeon came to our house which is on Sunday night.),  I can't remember if is the day we went for morning market with mom to look for lamb/chicken for monthly stock or the time mom asked to accompany me to helped pump air for all tyres and pump petrol for her car.  But what I know is...While on the way back, Mom did mentioned she missed our late Oyen and I said yeah, me too (Sometimes, when I can't sleep or stressed from a restless mind, I sobbed whenever I saw his photos/videos from my phone before sleep. I still have doubts of Oyen's whereabouts and can't accept if he is really gone...By the time Oyen has left, I felt like a small hole is cracked open from my heart. It never felt content whenever Oyen is not with us...). I did not tell this part of the story to my mom because it was at my fault for late sending him to the vet when he is in heavy-swollen stage in his mouth. I am late for making the next move and I am regret for not sending him to the vet early. 😢😭😭😭I'm sorry boy. Please forgive me as you are the greatest creation from God. I even told my boyfie that Oyen is the most handsome cat I had ever seen in my eyes and I failed to take care of him as a cat owner. I have so many things to learn as a cat owner and I regret for unable to rectify my mistakes.

And then on Sunday night. Yeon came~

Just like that.

Dad insisted Yeon suddenly came to us as if he was fallen by the sky (Like the Mr. Bean live-action series) and still wondering how Yeon came to our house...

 "Mungkin langit atas hantar Si Kecik ni datang ke rumah kita untuk duduk"...

God: You! The orange one.

Yeon: Yes sir!

God: I command that you to go house number XXX tonight.

Yeon: Sir, yes sir!

God: Maksure they took you in with warm and love.

Yeon: Alright sir!

God: Go now!

Yeon: Thank you sir!

*Imagination story by my dad 👆....😂😂😂😂😆😆😆

Regarding the how I come up with the name Yeon? I played the name for a while and "Kobe" doesn't seem works on him as it reminds me of food. Beef Meat. Beef Meat. How can I live with this name at home right? Oden is food while Haku and Haru is not suitable much. Yeon was the name me and boyfie discussed about our future cats name and it was the name given by myself. Initially is Lee-yeon, but I decided to go with Yeon instead. Ala-ala kucing Korea~ (Oyenchan is a Japanese name).

Boyfie informed me to take good care of him and make him a house-cat instead of stray. I will follow my plan and make sure Yeon is well fed, healthy full with warm and love. 

Thank you so much God AL-Mighty. 💝

Kucing is rezeki.

Alhamdulillah💓💝x

So grateful to welcome our new orange kitten, Yeon ~... 😍

May all affairs be simplified smoothly~

[hello-atlas]

It's been almost a week since we last communicated. The entire time, you've never left my mind. Is it far-fetched to ask if you think of me too? Do thoughts of reaching out to me ever cross your mind? We never had a thing, and I know it's my fault for developing feelings for you. But I don't understand because you're the one who pulled me into this situation. It all started with you, yet I couldn't blame you. Where else could I turn?

It's been eight months, and I always yearn for an answer, but I couldn't muster the courage to ask you. I actually wrote you a letter, but I lack the courage to send it. It will never reach you.

Sometimes I hate you, yet I can't hate you at all. I tend to do the stupidest things with friends, but with you, I always wanted to be careful and only show you my good sides. I tend to get shy, even if I wasn't like this with you before, as if I want to impress you with everything in me. I feel like we're making progress, but I guess my cautious, quiet, and shy nature pushes you away. I know you like someone fun, and I'm not that fun. I can't help it because every time you're around, it makes me shy all the time.

To be honest with you, I wanted to greet you during Christmas, but once again, I had to be careful not to give away the hint that I like you. In the end, I chose to hold back. This isn't the first time I've restrained myself; I've done it countless times. You might think I'm a bad friend, that I don't pay attention, and that I simply don't care. But truthfully, I'm always observant, especially when it comes to you. I pay close attention, yet I deliberately hold myself back.

I can't pinpoint exactly when I started to like you. I just know that gradually, I developed feelings for you. I didn't pay much attention to you before when I still regarded you as a friend. But once I started liking you, I took the time to look back at our old pictures from college. It's cute because I don't remember them, yet it seems we were often seat mates. There are so many moments I don't recall, but fortunately, there are photographs to help preserve those memories.

Getting closer to you has been nice. I thought I already knew you back in college, but after spending more time with you, I've realized there's so much more I can learn from you. I can feel that there's a lot more to discover about you.

There's this wall within you that's hard to climb, but over time, you're slowly opening up to me. Still, it feels like a long journey, and I'm not sure if I can ever scale that wall.

Initially, pretending with you was enjoyable, but as time passes, it's becoming exhausting. It began as a happy crush, but I've reached a point where I seek answers and hope for these feelings to be reciprocated.

It's frustrating to glance at my phone, hoping for a notification from you. It's disheartening to navigate through messaging apps we've used before, checking if you've left a message for me. It's saddening to see you online on these platforms without reaching out. It's embarrassing to hold onto hope when it's unclear whether you feel the same way about me or not.

A week without much communication, just small interactions with you. I'm slowly learning to detach from you.

I don't understand why you initiated daily messaging, why you reached out first for a few days, why the conversations were engaging, only to leave me hanging.

Why do I feel like you're mirroring my energy? It's as if you're playing the game I started with you, and you're close to winning. Or have you always been like this?

[emmybeearts]

Day 24: Warp

My data pad has once again died. It should be able hold a charge for months and I just recharged it at the outpost not even three days ago. In that time, I was, fortunately, able to scan and learn the names of a few dozen animals that we already have on record as well as document those not yet in our system for later classification. But three days worth of data is not enough. It should've been able to make the whole journey on a single charge. Clearly something was wrong. 

I had initially thought I had permanently damaged the battery back in the cave. It could've been damaged from the initial fall, or from using it to supplement Lily’s charge the entire way back. I have no clue how much power they draw and there was a good chance using it like that could’ve fried the battery. It was at this point I figured percussive maintenance of the device would be in order. Shaking it did nothing; however, calmly and rationally throwing it with all of my strength against a rock did help me figure out the issue. 

The culprit was a new species of ray. Similar to the Cathode rays from deep within the cave, this new ray was also an electrovore. I'm not sure when I picked it up but it must’ve spent the past few days siphoning the charge from the data pad’s battery. And it did so in, easily, the most impressive forms of visual mimicry I've ever come across. 

Earth has its own forms of mimics. From something simple like assorted leaf-tailed geckos, who's skin looks almost indistinguishable from the lichen they rest upon; to animals like the cuttlefish who can change their shape and texture to blend in with almost anything in their surroundings. Atria, however, is a world of extremes, and this species of ray has taken the simple rules of mimicry and pushed them to match that extreme. 

It had pressed its body almost completely flat against the screen of my data pad, copying, not only the shape, but the texture of the screen too. It felt smooth, hard, and glassy the whole time I was using it despite being a soft-bodied animal with minimal bones. That's the most interesting thing; the fact that I was able to still use it. The animal was, somehow, not triggering any inputs while pressed against the touchscreen. It's very possible that this animal, having its entire biology built around consuming and manipulating electricity, would send a signal straight down from where I pressed on its back to act as the input trigger. 

What really made this animal’s mimicry truly stand out is the degree to which it took bioluminescence. Many animals on Atria possess specialized organs that allow them to break down and utilize the glowing cells of bioluminescent algae for their own purpose. The Opticalaber Ray, however, isolates these cells into highly specialized photophores that give it the ability to change brightness, saturation, and even color of its bioluminescence. Somehow, this bizarre animal was able to warp the light from my screen and project onto its back the text and images of the screen below it almost perfectly. 

Once the datapad had settled after bouncing off the rock, the opticalaber ray pried itself from the damaged screen. It seemed dazed for a moment but promptly began to float away from the spent energy source. I watched as it shifted the color of its underbelly to mimic the sky before it pressed itself onto a nearby rockface. Despite seeing where it landed, it was hard to accurately pinpoint its silhouette against the rock and bioluminescent algae it mimicked so perfectly. Getting a sample from the ray was even harder since its body became nearly as hard as the actual rock it mimicked. 

I understand why mimicry is found so commonly in nature, and why near-defenseless, soft-bodied animals like squid and cuttlefish rely on it so heavily. But what I don't understand is why an animal, like this ray, evolved photomimicry to such a precise degree? Why does it need to have each cell that covers its body act as separate individual pixels that can all operate together? My number of resources that provide me any semblance of an answer is rapidly dwindling. Not to mention, the number of questions I have never stops rising. 

[End Transcription]

[brandontrivette]

Mental Health From the Perspective of Trans Youth

We talked to a young trans man named Matt Sheldrick about his transgender experiences and how they have affected his mental health.

Matt began to wonder what gender he was at the age of six. Since he was 16 years old, he has been open about being a trans person and is "out" to everyone. He began self-harming at the age of 13 or 14, when he first experienced depression. Here are his own words on his experiences.

Having Difficulty as a Young Trans Man Making friends and connecting with people outside of one-on-one settings have always been challenging for me because of my anxiety connected to confidence, communicating, and fitting in.

When I started college, it became impossible to handle. I was quite isolated after moving quite a distance from home. I found it difficult to manage daily life on my own, without assistance.

Due to the numerous blows to my confidence and self-esteem that I endured, I believe that my prior experiences with gender identity will always be a factor in my anxiety. My gender troubles as a teen were the main source of my depression since I was numbing out my emotions and didn't feel like I could be myself.

Getting Support The availability of professional support for gender change has been hit and miss, with lengthy wait times. But I've been extremely fortunate to have a supportive GP who has been there for me the entire time, a supportive family, and generally excellent experiences with private healthcare providers. Unfortunately, some people's journeys can be considerably more challenging, and they may find it much harder to receive love and acceptance from those around them.

I had a fantastic CAHMS counselor before I turned 18 and amazing assistance at school. However, it was incredibly challenging to get support during my time in college, which negatively impacted my mental health.

The Changes I Hope to See I think there should be a lot more instruction in schools on gender, mental health, and the value of taking care of one's body and mind. It's crucial, in my opinion, for those who are dealing with these problems to be more open about them. It is crucial that people have these role models, and more people are opening up about their experiences with gender and mental health in the media. You come to understand that it's okay to feel this way and that things will improve as a result.

My Words of Wisdom for Others It's crucial to locate a confidant and supportive person with whom you can communicate. If making connections with people in person is difficult for you, the Internet can be quite helpful. There are numerous chances to locate individuals who might be dealing with related problems. Knowing that you're not the only one going through something, that you are not alone, is typically incredibly reassuring.

Focus on your strengths and passions; this can help you recognize your own value, which will be quite beneficial when you're feeling down.

Once you embark on your transformation into womanhood with Transfemme®, the journey to womanhood becomes plausible, and then you start seeing results. It’s now entirely possible, and then one day, you wake up and look in the mirror, and YOU see a pretty woman looking back at you, and then a warm, giddy feeling of satisfaction overcomes you. You look good in your bra, YES! Your hair is filling in and getting longer, your skin is softer and smoother, your hips are a bit rounder, and you look better in jeans.

[thetrishtalgem]

D&D Character Profiles: War for Rython

300 years ago, Emperor Malacode rose to power and unified all the provinces of Rython under one banner. The land was happy and at peace, until the Bar Crawlers began to unravel a millenia-old plan to aid Infernal armies in the Blood War against the Abyss.

My recent writing escapades have made me realize I should probably offer some insight into the characters I've been using and their campaign. ^^;

All character art/models in this post were created using HeroForge!

Characters

Sylvain Gautier, 69 (he/they)

High Elf || Charlatan || Oath of Brotherhood Paladin || Lawful Neutral || My PC

Born to the disgraced noble Gautier family, Sylvain grew up in the humble Nair’s Village and worked as a farmer. His parents were able to keep themselves afloat compared to the much larger Nair’s Plantation by selling the Gautier special crop: marijuana. Sylvain always longed for a better life for his family, and so he set out on his journey to bring pride to his family name. Along the way, he was chosen by Helm as a holy champion. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is fiercely loyal, but has a tendency to throw himself headfirst into situations without leaning on the rest of his party.

Lys Vesna, 23 (she/her)

Human || Noble || College of Lore Bard/Grave Cleric || Chaotic Good || @poetic-leigh-me

Lys was adopted by the noble elven Vesna family as an infant. Despite their best efforts to groom her into a “proper lady”, Lys instead became the “black sheep” of the family as a constant source of disgrace to their heritage. She escaped the manor when she was 18, choosing instead to play her instruments for lodging and use her charm when necessary to get what she needed. Since embarking on her journey, she has found faith in Kelemvor and learned the tragic truth of her birth. Having gone mad with grief, her father, Cyrus Cassian, turned to dark cult magic to resurrect her mother and herself from the dead. She had since been given to the Vesnas to be raised in a safe environment and kept away from the evil her father dabbled in. Fortunately, Lys was very persuasive in convincing her father to abandon his ties with the cult he found himself entangled with.

Francois, mid-20’s (he/him)

Human || Criminal || Assassin Rogue || Chaotic Neutral

The most secretive of all the Bar Crawlers, Francois keeps his history close to his chest. Despite his secretiveness, Francois is one of the most down-to-earth and sweetest members of the party. He was once a member of the criminal organization the Black Hand, but left after realizing a part of their dealings was in slave trade. He has since been chased by multiple assassins of the group after coming to the realization that their leader is a Beholder. The party is currently working towards overthrowing Kornan and reestablishing the Black Hand as a more ethically aligned criminal organization. Well, as much as one can be.

Montgomery “Monty” Montgomery, late-20’s (he/him)

Half-Elf || Outlander || Beastmaster Ranger/Mastermind Rogue || Chaotic Good

More often without a shirt than with, Monty is the bastard child of the Jarl of Verstad and an elven woman he recalls only in fleeting memory. He and his wolf companion, Marty, parted ways with the rest of the party upon docking in the port of Verstad. He has since worked as the first mate aboard the party’s ship the Inn Strider and joins the battle whenever called upon.

Davos Spellfire, late-20’s (Deceased) (he/him)

Dragonborn || Sage || Abjuration Wizard || Chaotic Neutral

Born in the capital city of the Drakken Wastes, Davos’ life was colored with sorrow and pain. His parents turned murderous against each other over the dark artifact Myrkul’s Talon and he was framed at the age of 13 for their deaths. Since that day he sought out the power necessary to overthrow the entire Redwater clan for their true involvement in the death of his parents. It was his own vengeful tendencies that led to his ultimate downfall.

Reiki Tesindri “Tesi” Quinn, 58 (she/her)

Kalashtar || Spy || Way of the Cobalt Soul Monk || Lawful Neutral

Previously a member of the Empire's most secretive and elite force of soldiers, Tesi was taken at birth with her older sister song and trained to be a killer. She broke free of the Inquisition's hold after realizing the truth of what they were and living in secrecy for a time. It had seemed she was completely free of their ties for a time, until her wife Farah suddenly fell ill and died. Tesi has since wandered Rython seeking ways to aid the people and right her wrongs. Her escapades with the Bar Crawlers have recently revealed that she has a younger sister and that her parents are still alive.

[muscle-worlds-stories]

Greetings! My daddy wants me to get into bodybuilding, but I've always been a 6'2 nerd for my entire life. Please help me out.

I'd love to help you please your Daddy! Now since you're 6'2 already, I'll keep you at that height. Now let's work on your routine. Your diet now consists of heavy amounts of protein and loads of vegetables.

You eat 2 whole chickens a day to fuel your muscles after your workouts and gallons if protein shakes to get them bigger. As you start your bodybuilding journey, your body was burning and growing. Your shoulders broadened, your arms began to grow, and began to show, and your legs began to get thicker. After each week, you walked to your Daddy and asked him how you looked. Every time he said you looked bigger than the week before, and then he fucked you. As you got bigger, the roles began to switch. You began to be more alpha, yet still respecting that your Daddy was the man in the relationship.

After 6 months of non stop lifting and eating, your Daddy signed you up for your first bodybuilding competition. You knew all the poses, you knew what they were looking for. At the end of the competition, you were awarded 1st place, grand champion. The adrenaline of winning was ecstatic for you.

With all that energy and dedication, you became addicted. You now sign up for 4 bodybuilding competitions a year and continue to grow your body. All for your Daddy and for the fame and fortune that come with it.

[yurimother]

Yuri Expert Erica Friedman Dives Into LGBTQ Anime & Manga History in New Book 'By Your Side' – June 2022

In February, Yuri researcher and trend-setter Erica Friedman announced that they are writing a new book, By Your Side: The First 100 Years of Yuri Manga & Anime. The book will be published by Journey Press in June 2022, in time for pride month and the 20th anniversary of Okazu, the world's oldest and most comprehensive site on lesbian anime and manga.

The term "Yuri" began life as a coded reference to lesbianism within manga and anime genre, but in the past few decades, fans, creators, and publishers shaped the term into a beautiful genre of its own. Friedman traces the past, present, and future of the genre, all the way from the modern Yuri phenomenon manga, webcomics, novels, and games to its routes over a century ago in Yoshiya Nobuko's pioneering works. Walk together through the past, present, and future of Yuri in this insightful and entertaining new work.

By Your Side is a collection of interlocking essays, articles, and essays from Friedman's gloriously hilarious, witty, and unwieldable mind. Through these essays, readers will become familiar with many of the Yuri genre's greatest creators, tropes, concepts, symbols, and titles. As the title suggests, the series focuses on the first 100 years of lesbian anime and manga, 1919-2019.

Friedman describes her hopes for the book to YuriMother:

I want people to approach it like joining me at a Yuri panel - as an ongoing, casual discussion of a topic we love to talk about! I want to walk by your side as we wander through a garden full of lilies and chat about the changes we've seen in Yuri... I hope folks will pick it up and read a section, then put it down and think about that series, or person, or concept, then come back later and read another section!

Because the chapters in BYS are sourced from my writings and presentations, BYS can be used by fans of Yuri who want to know more about the history of the genre and by students of pop culture who are looking for research they can use for their own work.

We also spoke about the future of Yuri.

So much has changed in the past even 20 years, I can hardly project what we haven't even imagined yet. ^_^

But...the thing that is the most exciting change I've seen recently and the thing I hope for the most is creators modeling worlds where queer lives and happiness are normalized...creators imagining joy in queer lives in Yuri.

Indeed, the past few years have seen wonderous titles from a variety of creators embracing Yuri's queer identity to tell both joyful and brutally real Yuri stories. Works like My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, Yuri Life, and most recently, I'm in Love with the Villainess come to mind.

Friedman continues:

We spent a lot of time in the last century performing lesbian trauma for Yuri subplots. I'm looking forward to Yuri manga where lesbian couples just are and then the story happens.

They went on to express their excitement over finally getting ready to put out their "Big Book o'Yuri."

I'm very excited that the Big Book o'Yuri will be a reality, obviously. ^_^ And I'm delighted to be able to work with Journey Press on this. I know they'll give us all the best book they can make. We're probably going to run a Kickstarter, which will give us a chance to develop fun physical and digital goods, as well! And, when the pandemic is over, I absolutely want to do events at bookstores where I can talk to folks about their experiences with Yuri!

I'm also just exceptionally happy that there will be a book about Yuri out there. Right now we collect every essay we can on the Yuricon Essays page to help folks trying to do research (YuriMother is proud to have contributed works to this Essays page). Once this book is out, my wish is that we'll see more Yuri research being published as well. I look forward to reviewing other books about Yuri.

Just you wait, Erica Friedman! You blaze the trail, and YuriMother (which is to say I, the writer of this report) will happily follow in your footsteps! Readers, join me in supporting By Your Side when it is released next year and continue to consume and learn about Yuri!

Erica holds a Masters Degree in Library Science and a B.A. in Comparative Literature and is a full-time researcher for a Fortune 100 company. She has lectured at dozens of conventions and presented at film festivals, notably the San Francisco Lesbian and Gay Film Festival and the London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival. She has participated in an academic lecture series at MIT, University of Illinois, University of Michigan, Michigan State University, Harvard University, Kanagawa University, and others.

She has edited manga for JManga, Seven Seas, and Udon Entertainment, most recently Riyoko Ikeda’s epic historical classic, The Rose of Versailles.

Erica has written about Yuri for Japanese literary journal Eureka,  Animerica magazine, the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund,  Dark Horse, and contributed to Forbes, Slate, Huffington Post, Hooded Utilitarian, and The Mary Sue online. She has written news and event reports, interviews Yuri creators, and reviews Yuri anime, manga, and related media on her blog Okazu since 2002.

They were the founder of ALC Publishing, the first English publisher to release English Yuri manga. ALC Publishing passed the torch to new publishers in 2013 and no long publishes material.

Journey Press was born in 2019 with the goal of bringing unusual and diverse science fiction to the forefront of the publishing landscape. We are dedicated to supporting the women and queer people who have been erased from the history books, and to the reprinting of worthy novels that fell by the wayside, in addition to publishing new novels by creators of all types.