#so normally i err on the side of caution and am quiet

[iguessitsjustme]

i need to apologize to everyone in my life because i just realized i get so much louder when i'm drinking

[iplaywithstring]

Red, Yellow and Green Days

I shared this system with a friend of mine recently, and she found it really helpful, so I’m sharing it here too. I might have actually shared this before, but I can’t remember and search is unhelpful.

I’ve got ME/CFS, and endometriosis. The endo is mostly not an issue thanks to wonderful meds, but still gets fussy now and then. The ME/CFS is in the mild/moderate range - dealing with fatigue, weakness, pain and sound/light sensitivity is my norm, and it doesn’t take much for PEM to become an issue.

The biggest problem with managing symptoms is that I’ve got this really bad habit of trying to do as much as I can on my “good” days (”good” meaning “better than my worst day”, not actually, you know, symptom free). I often end up pushing too hard and causing more problems, rather than just taking it easy and having a more consistent energy level.

So I came up with Red, Yellow and Green days, as a reminder to take it easy and be gentle with myself.

Red days - nothing more strenuous than sitting upright. Might spend most of the day in bed. I know it’s a red day when I’m weak or in a lot of pain - if I can’t knit, or can’t open the fridge, or holding my phone is too hard, it’s a red day. Red days I am not required to do anything more than exist. Yellow days - I might be able to stand to make a meal, or do a load of laundry, but leaving the house is probably not a good idea. I can knit or spin or maybe even weave for a bit, but nothing that keeps me on my feet for more than 20 minutes. I know it’s a yellow day when I’m achy or stiff or tired, or if the thought of tv or music is just big old nope. Yellow days are basically sitting activities only. I have to lay down for at least an hour, but expect to sleep for 2-3 hours mid-day.

Green days - I can do things! I feel pretty good, it’s worth it to go for a walk, or tackle some cleaning, or hang out with people. I try to keep activity to 2 hr blocks and then check in with how I’m doing. I probably won’t nap but I will rest. Green days I’m “normal”. Now for the rules

- I can not go from a Red day to a Green day - if Monday was Red, then Tuesday is at least Yellow by default. Even if I feel good, I have to treat it as a yellow day.

- If I’m up past midnight, the next day defaults to Yellow. If I’m up past 3 (generally insomnia, not actual choice), then the next day defaults to red.

- If I take pain meds, it’s a Yellow day, even if it started out Green. If pain meds happen after 7 pm, the next day is also likely to default to Yellow

- There is no need to feel guilty for not getting things done on Red or Yellow days - those days aren’t for being productive, they are for recovery so I can be functional later. Anything I do get done is a bonus and I can celebrate it. - Prioritize things that feel good on Green days - sometimes having a clean bathroom feels good, sometimes it can wait until tomorrow, or be handed off to someone else to do. Green days do not mean that I am well.

- If I am active for more than 6 hrs in a row or 10 hrs total (active meaning on my feet, socializing, or in a crowded/noisy place), the next day defaults to yellow. Visiting with friends while sitting in a quiet place doesn’t count as active.

Basically, this system gives me a structure and permission to rest, recover, and take care of myself. It takes the pressure off of me in the moment to decide if I can manage something or not. If I wake up and it’s a Yellow day, then I don’t have to feel guilt for skipping a walk or passing off grocery shopping to my husband. If I don’t make dinner on a Red day, it’s not because I’m lazy or slacking, it’s because I’m working at taking care of myself. It gives me a shorthand when checking in with myself - I don’t have to tease out all the specifics of exactly how I’m feeling and push right to the limits of what I can do. The general categories to err on the side of caution and that’s a good thing.

Since I started using this system for myself, I’ve had fewer Red days, because I’m not pushing myself so much.

[icefire149]

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Five (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

Once the kitchen was clean, Claire put her other duffle bag on the table. She unzipped it. “It’s not much, but it works.”

Cas took everything out of the bag and examined it carefully. The bag contained: a machete, some silver bullets but no gun, a pouch of silver coins, an iron crowbar, a lock pick set, a coin Claire thinks is iron, a couple bottles of holy water, some spray paint, a half empty container of salt, a box of penguin band-aids, cleaning alcohol, and an angel sword. Cas frowned. “This is abysmal.”

Defensive, Claire crossed her arms. “The sword is basically a hunting equivalent to a Swiss army knife.”

“I don’t understand what military grade Swiss cutlery has to do with anything, but I do know hunting. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Oh, so here we go! Hit me with the speech.”

Cas turned around bewildered. “What are you talking about? There’s no speech.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me that I’m being stupid and I should go live a normal life?”

“I’m not going to yell at you or tell you what to do.” Cas tried to keep his voice even. “Am I happy that you’re hunting? No. Am I frustrated that you’re hunting by yourself? Absolutely. But it’s your life and I promised to keep you safe.”

Claire rolled her eyes with her whole body. She went over to the refrigerator and snagged a juice box out. With a loud pop, she stabbed the straw in.

Sighing, Cas put his hands on the table. He looked over Claire’s hunting supplies again. “I don’t think you understand.” His voice came out much softer than before.

The juice box was half way to Claire’s mouth when she froze.

“I know you’re not going to stop now that your mind is set. I want to help you be a better hunter.”

“What?”

Cas looked over his shoulder, and studied Claire. Obviously, she was grown by human standards, but he could still clearly see the small child he devastated…..is continuing to jeopardize. His chest started feeling unnaturally tight. For a moment he thought that he could still see the baby from the shreds of Jimmy’s memory that remains with him. “I’m willing to share my knowledge of the supernatural with you. Afterwards if you’re still willing to be a hunter at least you’ll be better informed about what you’re signing up for.”

“Are you serious?” Claire tilted her head, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “How are we supposed to hunt with the kid?”

“We’re not hunting. We’re studying.”

Claire’s whole body drooped. “Studying what? I can’t imagine where you have lore books stashed here. This house is pretty bare bones.”

“Lore books would be nice, but I have a library right up here.” He touched his temple with his index finger. “And besides we have a ton of ground to cover before thinking about hunts.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been on a couple hunts already.”

“Yeah, but do you have the exorcism chant memorized? Or recorded? Can you make hex bags? Draw various devil traps? Read any Latin or Enochian? Tracking spells? Draw angel banishing-”

“Okay!” Claire burst. She put the juice box down on the table. Her voice softened. “Okay, I get it.”

Cas nodded. “Would you be interested in learning any of that?”

“You’re seriously willing to teach me any of that?”

“Of course. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy.”

The next thing Cas knew, he was trapped in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Claire mumbled into his chest. She let go just as fast and sat in the chair she used earlier during lunch.

Cas pushed the juice box into her reach. She took it and started drinking. He smiled, feeling the tension loosen in his shoulders.

“So….” Claire spoke with the straw still in the corner of her mouth. “When does hunter school start, professor angel?”

“We could probably start tomorrow. Does that mean you’re planning on staying for a while?”

Sitting up straight, Claire’s expression morphed from jovial to serious. “Is that okay? Is it even safe with…”

They both glanced towards the living room for a moment. Cas crossed his arms. “Of course it’s okay. You’re free to come and go as much as you please.” He sighed, uncharacteristically running a hand through his hair. “But your second question...I honestly don’t know. And that frightens me.”

Cas pulled the chair closest to him and sat down. “You’re not safe if you leave now.” He gestured at her hunting supplies on the table. “I know Heaven is after Jack. I’ve been careful to keep us hidden, but it’s not without flaws. Jack’s birth should have attracted a ton of attention. I’m shocked we haven’t been discovered yet.”

“You’ve been doing good so far. Maybe they won’t find you,” Claire said, leaning her elbows on the table. She rested the side of her face in the palm of her hand.

“They will at some point….I just wish I knew what’s taking them so long. I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Is there any kind of warding we could put up? Spells?”

Cas smiled softly. “Angel warding would be useless in this situation. Yes, it would keep Heaven away from this house, but it would also keep me and Jack out.”

“So what have you done?”

“After Jack was born….the moment we could flee, I etched Enochian sigils into his ribs to hide him from every angel.” Cas subconsciously rubbed a hand over the tattoo on his side. “My body is hidden from angels in a similar way.”

Stunned, Claire stared at Cas in silent horror.

“Actually that reminds me-” Cas turned his whole body towards in Claire’s direction. “I wanted to give you those sigils as well for protection.”

Claire slowly leaned away in her chair. “Why….would I need protection from angels?”

Cas’ eyebrows furrowed. “There’s always a chance you might stumble into an angel related case, but most importantly you should be hidden from them in case anyone remembers your ties to me. You’re important.”

“Because I can function as your vessel?”

“That does put you in a lot of danger.”

Her whole body drooped as she sighed. “Great.”

“At this point I doubt that there are any angels that remember which bloodline begets my vessels, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. You’ll never notice it.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Cas got up and positioned himself to stand directly behind her. Claire closed her eyes. He placed his hands on the top of both of her shoulders for a few seconds, and then he went back to his chair.

Claire opened her eyes. “You didn’t do anything?”

“I did and it’s done.”

She burst out of her chair, running her hands down her arms and looking over her body. “Everything looks the same.”

Cas smiled fondly. “Your ribs. You won’t be able to see anything without an x-ray.”

Her eyes snapped back up at him, wide with curiosity. “That was so cool! I can’t feel a difference.” She sat back down again. “What does the warding look like?”

“Oh.” Cas sat up straighter and glanced around the room. “I can draw them out for you, but…” He frowned. “We’re going to need to buy some pens and paper.”

That pulled a laugh out of Claire. “Figures. We need to go school supply shopping.”

Confused, Cas turned his head to the side just a bit. Then it clicked. “Yeah. We’ll need to go supply shopping.”

“So the warding will be enough to keep us hidden while we’re shopping?”

Cas sat back in the chair. “Technically, yes. The reason why it isn’t perfect is how angels communicate.” He touched the side of his forehead for a moment. “Dean calls it Angel Radio. I can turn it off when I want to, but in general angels can contact and find each other through our minds.”

Claire stared at him for several silent moments while his words processed, and then the gears turned. She glanced towards the living room.

“I don’t know if he’s connected,” Cas said simply. “And I don’t want to reach out to him that way until he’s older….and understands.”

“Huh.” Crossing her arms, Claire turned back towards Cas. “He’s really got us in a pickle.”

The puzzled look on Cas’ face was evident, but he chose to nod instead. Claire cracked a smile. “Hopefully Heaven is too scared of the idea of Jack that they’ll keep their distance.”

“Hopefully.”

After a quiet pause. “Sooo...does this place have decent WiFi?”

“I believe so. Kelly was frequently on her laptop.”

“Excellent.” Claire’s smile widened. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Cas’ expression softened. “I’d like that greatly.”

“Be right back then,” Claire said hopping up and leaving the room. On her way through the house she glanced at Jack sound asleep in his play pen. He was on his back, and the foot of a stuffed lion toy was clenched in his tiny fist. Amused, Claire shook her head and continued upstairs to her other duffle bag.

It was only a minute or two later when she descended down the stairs with her laptop charger clunking into each step. “Is there anything in particular that-”

Her voice cut off seeing the pained look on Cas’ face. He was seated on the living room couch, but he looked miles away. “Cas?”

Startled, his whole body uncharacteristically flinched. His blue eyes looked dull and sad. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you coming.”

Claire slowly walked over to the couch and put the laptop down at the opposite end. “Are you okay? You look sick.” She kicked the charger cord to the side and sat down on the middle cushion.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wanna try that again?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I told you in the past that angels can pick up on more than just verbal prayers. Longing. Strong feelings of intent. They’re like…..indirect prayers.”

“Yeah. So who’s praying? Dean?”

Cas sighed. “He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but I can feel that he’s perturbed.”

“Well yeah.” Claire pulled her legs up, crossing them. She then turned her whole body in Cas’ direction. “Jody told me Sam is like ready to tie him down so he’ll stop clawing at the walls. He’s trying to find you.”

Mildly irritated, Cas shook his head. “He’s yet to actually pray to me so I can’t imagine he wants to speak to me that badly.”

“That’s fair. One point to Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at that.

“So why are we letting Dean sweat? What did he do?” Claire grinned. “Depending on what he did, I bet we can get Jody to boot his car.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means, but I have no doubt that Dean would never speak to me again if we did such a thing to ‘his baby’.”

Claire shook her head. “Never mind that then.”

Cas took a deep breath. His gaze slid over to Jack’s sleeping form. “Dean and I didn’t part on good terms. I spent much of the past year tracking Jack’s mother. She wasn’t easy to find.” Cas’ head turned and he met Claire’s eye. He frowned. “And my original mission was to terminate the pregnancy.”

A sudden chill crept up Claire’s spine. “Oh.”

“Dean understood the complexities of my mission. I didn’t want to hurt Kelly, but….a child like Jack is…..he could cause a lot of harm.”

Arching her neck up, Claire tried to get a better glimpse of the baby. He seemed to be sleeping with his face squished into the playpen floor. “I get the idea,” she said quietly. “Archangel power. Prince of Darkness. But…” Claire pointed her thumb in Jack’s direction. “I don’t think he fits the bill.”

“When I did find Kelly,” Cas continued. “And I rescued her from Dagon, one of the Princes of Hell…..Jack called out to me. He showed me a peaceful world. A vision of the good he’ll be able to do.”

“And that’s why you’ve gone all dad mode.” Claire crossed her arms.

“He asked.”

“And Dean?”

“To hunt Dagon I had to trick Dean and steal a special gun he prized.”

Grimacing, Claire quipped, “I bet that went over well.”

“At the time him and Sam were pitching ideas of removing Jack’s grace.”

“What would that even do to him?”

“Make him human I suppose…”

“But you don’t know.”

“No. Not for certain. And Kelly wanted her son to be whole.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “She’s right. Jack should be allowed to be his entire self. No hiding. No changing or compromising for others.”

Cas smiled softly, and then it fell while he stared at his hands in his lap. “I suspect now that Dean is mostly upset about the disappearance act, but...I’ve been keeping the distance so I don’t have to lose everyone. My siblings already dislike both Winchesters.”

A small laugh escaped Claire. “Figures.”

“And….I do actually quite like this house. It’s peaceful here. Unlike their bunker...which is filled with rooms of unknown and dangerous items.”

A glint of excitement shone in Claire’s eyes. “Are you sure? Sounds like a fun place to explore and grow up in.”

Cas shook his head. “Jack deserves sunshine and windows...and a life unmarked by hunting…..well for as long as I can give him.”

Claire nodded, and they both sat there in silence with their thoughts for a while. Eventually, Claire’s eyes moved back to Cas and the sorrow exuding from him. “If Dean left the bunker to help you with Jack out here….would you want that?”

Cas was silent for a long time. Claire couldn’t make heads or tails of his expression. Eventually he spoke in a hushed whisper. “I miss him.”

“You should ask him instead of making his decisions for him.”

Cas’ eyes darted back to her for a moment. He stared, and then he pointed at the laptop. “So what kind of movie were you thinking?”

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 17/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,924 Warnings: M for Mature Content

Notes: TW: Mentions of Hospitals, Not-Quite Self Harm, Injury

Chapter 17: In Which We Lie by Omission

Toast was a tricky food to master.

Not only did one have to factor in the age and setting of each, individual toaster available, but the thickness of the bread was vital to the equation. There was thin line between “just right” and “burnt offerings”, usually moving from one end of the spectrum to the other in the literal blink of an eye.

Lydia squinted her eyes, peering into the orange glow of the toasting mechanisms, trying to determine the level of toast her bread had achieved. Behind her at the kitchen table, Beetlejuice sat quietly, deep in concentration as he mulled over the newspaper spread out before him. Normally, he could solve the weekly bridge puzzle within a few minutes, but his mind was somewhere else, and the answer was eluding him.

With a soft growl, he erased the notes he had been making in the margins of the puzzle, smacking the bits of eraser off the table with more force than what was needed. The soft scritching of graphite against newsprint started up again, only to be interrupted -again- with muttered curses and furious erasing.

His bestest best friend was town between asking him why he was so irritable that morning, or continuing to monitor her toast situation. Both options were precarious paths to navigate, and both of them could end in misery if she wasn’t being extra careful.

“So… hard hand dealt out this week?” Lydia made the first cautious move, still focused on her breakfast. “It’s always the diamonds that get me. You get week after week without them, and then the whole hand is littered with them. Do you think actual bridge is easier to play? I mean, after you scour the world for two other people that not only know but can play it.”

There was no response from the spectre; not even a sound of half-assed acknowledgement.

Concern overtook caution, and Lydia turned to face the dead silent man at the table. Beej was just staring at the paper now, the pencil being thoroughly chewed to bits within the maw of teeth he sported, the end dangling like a cigarette out of the corner of his mouth. Reaching over the table, she snapped her fingers close to his face, trying to get his attention.

“What did I tell you about eating pencils? Quit- quit doing that! You’re gonna drool all over the table.” The petite woman snatched the pencil away from him, raising her voice a little. “Earth to BJ? You in there today?”

He snapped upright with a frown, licking his teeth free of graphite and wooden splinters like an animal, “Did my little Holly-Jolly have a cat?”

Blinking, she took in his navy blue appearance, the space around him seeming to shift like it was an out of focus photo, “A what- oh god, my toast!”

Lydia plucked the now charred pieces of bread out of the toaster, setting them on a plate as smoke gently wafted into the air. Grumbling, she sat down that the table across from him, grabbing a butter knife and attempting to scrape away the burnt coating.

“A cat? Nah, Holli’s allergic to most animals.” She replied, glancing back at the empty bread box on the counter, “Ugggh, out of bread. Knew I should have sent her to the store…”

“Holidae lied to me.” Beetlejuice’s reply was flat, spoken from low in his chest. “Why would she lie to me, Lyds?”

The crunching of the knife against crispy bread stopped immediately at his use of Holidae’s proper name. Lydia’s brain started clocking a thousand impulses a minute, going through several ways to continue the conversation without endangering herself or the house.

“Okay… okay… we need to back this conversation up really fast because you jumped the tracks on me, buddy.” She continued to work on her breakfast, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “What did she supposedly lie about?”

“The cat,” one clawed finger started picking at a small hole in the tablecloth.

She waited to see if he would elaborate before trying again, “She told you she had a cat? Alright, that’s not a huge offense yet, so what was the context? I can’t answer the question without all the facts, Beej.”

Beetlejuice was tearing the tablecloth now, “We were takin’ a shower-”

Lydia grimaced, “I want you to keep any sleazy, porno-riffic details to yourself, or I won’t help you.”

“Nothin’ happened in the shower.” There was a flash of his usual humor peeking through the distress, but only for a moment. “She’s got these big scar things on her arms so I asked her and she said it was a cat. But if she never had a cat, then she lied right to my face. I lie to other people, sure, but nobody lies to me. Not anymore. No offense.”

“None taken,” she shook her head, sighing heavily. “Unfortunately, this is not an adventure I can lead you on, my friend. I am not in charge of Holli’s personal… things. Don’t ask her about it, don’t mention it again. Forget you saw anything and move along.”

She waved her hand in a Jedi-like fashion, earning her a deeper frown from the ghoul. Exhaling a long breath of air, Lydia stuck an unburnt bit of toast into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. If she just spilled all of Holli’s dirty laundry to BJ, there was a very good chance Holidae would drag her to the third floor and toss her out an open window. If she kept quiet like a church mouse, Beej could very well do the same thing; and truth be told she was not ready to spend an entire afterlife being annoyed by the ghostly guide.

Better the devil you know?

“I will tell you once and only once: you are not allowed followup questions, nor are you allowed to interrupt me for any reason. Capice?” Lydia stuck out her hand for him to shake, knowing tempting him a deal would get him to behave for the time being.

The force at which he smacked his palm against hers, coupled with the grip he took hold of her hand, made her wince in discomfort. She could hear the faint popping sound between her knuckles as he squeezed extra hard, pulling his hand away with an unwavering stare. Lydia rubbed her hand gingerly, pouting as she tried to think of where to even start. Certain tidbits of information could be dangerous if let slip to him by accident; the ghost tended to err on the side of literal meanings of certain idioms or phrasing, which wasn’t helpful when trying to explain a serious topic in a less-serious way.

“Yes, they were self-inflicted. No, they weren’t intentional.” Lydia began, gauging his reaction carefully. “You ever notice that when she gets nervous, she starts to scratch at her skin? Like she’s suddenly itchy?”

The spectre nodded, but kept quiet to honor his ‘no interruptions’ caveat.

“Holli has these… instances where she gets too much into her own head. Not literally. She just starts thinking about different things too much and starts to forget to pay attention to where she is or what she’s doing in the moment. There was something… someone upset her-” She stopped herself, fumbling over the words as she spoke them.

“Someone?” He couldn’t help himself, digging his claws into the table.

“Irrelevant.” She snapped, “The point is, when Holli forgets things, she tends to forget important things like eating or sleeping… breather functions. It used to be really bad in college, before she started managing it better.

Lydia watched him carefully as he listened intently, taking note of his solemn mood, “Well, I went on that trip with dad and Delia a few summers ago, remember? And I didn’t… hadn’t paid attention to the fact Holli was having an episode. She always told me not to fret about her, since she was an adult and… well…”

She paused, taking another bite of toast. Even though Holidae never once put the responsibility of her mental health upon her, deep down, Lydia regretted not catching the early warning signs of Holidae’s episode. Lydia was still dealing with her own internalized issues, and Holli always told her to take care of herself more than anyone else.

Beej tilted his head sharply, knowing his friend was thinking hard about something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it could be. Lydia only thought that hard when she was trying to concoct a lie, or spare him some tedious details that wouldn’t have made sense to a demon like him. Breather details. Things he never had to experience, or things he never needed to consider.

Swallowing her toast, she continued softly, “When I got back, Holli had been admitted into the hospital. They said she hadn’t slept in days, which made her vividly hallucinate random things in the middle of classes; it’s why her arms are torn up. From what the doctors could understand, she claimed she needed to ‘remove the layers’ because there was something wrong? Or she said it was burnt somehow? She doesn’t remember anything… not even me being gone! The first thing she asked me when I saw her in the hospital was if I had missed my flight. It had been a week since I told her goodbye.”

Lydia let out a humorless laugh; memories of her friend hooked up to machines like Frankenstein’s monster with wires all over flooded her mind. Holli looking like death warmed over, sitting confused in the hospital bed and picking idly at a cup of jell-o.

Holidae had been more concerned about her. Her vacation. Not even comprehending her situation until a few days later.

Wisely, the young lady did not disclose the gruesome details of Holidae’s recovery to her demonic pal. Something deep in her gut told her that he wouldn’t have been thrilled to learn about the agonizing healing process; long nights unable to find relief as the skin stitched back together. Pain killers only did so much.

“Just… don’t bring up the scars again, okay?” Lydia sighed, a bit relieved to get that weight off of her shoulders.

Sometimes, it was good to talk things out with a third party; human status notwithstanding. Before Beetlejuice could give any sort of response, the front door opened, the sound of keys clattering into a ceramic dish filling the silence.

“Lyddy, they were out of that weird cereal you like, so I got you the off brand in the industrial sized bag. Should last a few decades.” Holidae’s voice carried into the kitchen, causing both Lydia and Beej to turn toward the entryway to the hall.

In a flash, the demon vanished from his seat at the table, reappearing in the foyer much to Holidae’s shock. With a snap of his fingers, the bags she was balancing in her arms were neatly placed on the kitchen counter, and Holidae herself was wrapped tightly within his grasp.

“Whoa… hey, Juice, are you okay? I was only gone for like an hour.” Holidae was muffled against his coat, half her face pressed into his shoulder.

“Exactly! A whole hour! What if something cool had happened and you weren’t around to see it? Or you might have been kidnapped by angry lawn gnomes! Which means I would have to heroically charge in and save you from their clutches, and of course you would reward me with a night of hot, passionate- oh. You know what? That sounds super special awesome.” He was babbling, pressing sloppy kisses all over her forehead. “Go back out and make yourself attractive to lawn gnomes. Go GO GO!”

Quietly, Lydia listened from the kitchen, surprised that Beej actually listened to her warnings about keeping Holidae unaware of what she had told him.

Then again, there was no guarantee he would keep that promise for long.

Writing Tags: @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @mrgeuse @amywright @beetlebitchywitch

[thesilverdragoon]

The Crystalline Mean

Previous: The Musica Universalis

Next: An Iron Grip

Wandering around for a short while around the marketplace eventually led him to the so called Spagyrics. More specifically, one of the citizens noticed him limping down the walkway, and suggested he visit the place (and even offered to walk him over there, though he declined.)

The outside of the facility looked about as plain as everything else within the Crystarium. That is to say, extremely elaborate and ornate in terms of architectural style. Or perhaps that was just the doorway. Vesevont had never been to any sort of hospital or apothecary that looked as… clean? as this place did.

Letting out a small sigh, he inhaled sharply afterwards and continued on inside, muttering to the worm. “Stay quiet.” Puffy wriggled in his chest, causing him to scrunch his face up.

Immediately an old elezen woman with gray sideswept hair and big round glasses looked up from her writing desk in the corner, standing as he came inside and moving towards him to help. “Well, here’s a new face!” She sounded pleasant, almost like a grandparent might have. “You can sit over here.”

Ves tried to wave her away, but found he actually needed the help as another pain shot through his spine. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and blinked away the small tears in the corners of his eyes. “Thank you- I… I think I pulled a muscle-” “That’ll get them every time. Always happens at precisely the wrong times. Running from an eater, squatting down at the-” “Not in my legs-” The Ishgardian sat down slowly, biting back a groan as took the weight off his feet. “My arm and my back- it shoots downwards is all-” “I see, give me a moment will you? Hanameen?? I need to fill out the log book, take this one will you??” The old woman called out, leaving Ves at the bedside as she returned to her desk. She didn’t sit down, and instead rotated her book around so that she could continue writing in it. “Name??”

Not long after came another elezen woman, much younger and with long, wavy light-brown hair and a very freckled face. “Coming, coming- Oh! Hello there!” She smiled at him. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Ves immediately felt his face grow hot, and stuffed it down as quickly as he could. “I’m uh-” “Name sir!” The old woman snapped her fingers to get Ves’ attention (which only made him even more flustered.)

“V-Vesevont, ma’am.”

“Vesevont. Sounds foreign. But if that’s your name it’s your name.”

The one named Hanameen rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t mind her, Miss Chessamile’s a fiesty one, even in her old age. It keeps things interesting around here I’d say.” She glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

Chessamile let out a short ‘hah’ at that, but smiled nonetheless. “Yes, yes I’m the babysitter, putting bandages and salves on every wound you could possibly imagine! And everyone’s better off for it aren’t they?”

“They sure are.

So then! What’s wrong? You look all right to me, no eyes missing, no guts spilling out the front, no blood?”

Ves swallowed again, his mouth feeling drier by the second. “I uh…”

“Well don’t be bashful about it! Says he pulled a muscle!” Chessamile said aloud from her desk.

The Ishgardian wanted to suck his neck into his torso to hide. His face at least.

“Pulled a muscle?” Hanameen repeated, tilting her head.

“Well I mean- I don’t really know-” Ves paused. “It’s my arm actually- I think I need a mechanic more than I need a chiurgeon-” “A chiurgeon? I wouldn’t exactly call myself that, but let’s have a looksee.” Hanameen pulled up a stool and sat beside the edge of the bed as Ves held his prosthetic out.

She took it, turning it over a few times as she gauged his reaction. “My, what a fancy looking thing this is. Are you from Eulmore?” She asked, slowly moving the arm up and down. Ves’ breath hitched, so she stopped. “I don’t remember. People have been asking me that all day long- the Exarch had me brought here from the woods outside the gates, he said-” “The Exarch??” Immediately the memory of the morning she’d seen the Exarch walking across the plaza from his tower came back as clear as day. “The Exarch ventures from the tower on a semi-regular basis- but to see him in such a hurry to be somewhere was quite odd. I remember it!

Are you a friend of his?”

“I uh-” Ves’ head went blank.

“Hanameen,” Chessamile shot a warning glance.

“Oh don’t mind it, I’m just curious is all!” The knight looked back and forth between the two woman, confused. “Uh? Why th-” “It’s an unspoken rule around the city, but seeing as you’re not from here apparently... We aren’t to question the Exarch’s personal business or relations. Out of respect mainly. While being a mysterious figure himself, the man’s done everything in our best interest here, and protected us for so long.” Chessamile explained. “It would be unwise to accidentally invoke bad luck or some sort of curse for prying. Not that that would actually happen but, you never know.”

Hanameen chuckled. “Chessamile errs on the side of caution. And for good reason. As you can probably plainly see.”

Ves tried to smile but it looked lopsided and funny. His nerves were getting to him. “Ahah…”

Puffy writhed painfully in his chest again, causing him to suddenly shudder and bend forward a bit more.

Hanameen leaned back slightly but placed her hand flat on his chest to catch him, “Are you all right???” “N-...Y-yes...” “You’re sweating.”

“A-am I-” He was.

The woman stared at him with a fair amount of concern, before going back to his prosthetic. “...If you say so…

Well… have you tried taking this off?? Perhaps the arm’s pulling on something and causing you discomfort. It might be broken. I’m no mechanic, as you so graciously pointed out earlier, but I’m sure Katliss upstairs could find someone or something for you in the meantime.”

The idea seemed so obvious. Why didn’t he think of that?”

Vesevont hummed, unsure as he reached across with his normal arm to disconnect the prosthetic. There was a sudden jolt of electricity (or so he assumed) and then a hiss as the piece detached from the port installed onto his shoulder. He set it down carefully on the bed beside him, breathing a sigh of relief.

“How about now?”

“I don’t really notice anything different.”

“Walk around for me a moment.” Hanameen instructed, standing up and moving the stool out of the way with her foot.

Ves stood up slowly, looking down at his legs as he took a few experimental steps forward.

His knees didn’t shudder, and his footfalls felt all right. His back wasn’t killing him near as much.

“Any better?”

“Yes- it has to be the arm- I probably damaged it while I was out in the woods...” He sighed, looking back towards it in dismay. “The only thing I’m worried for now is that I’ve no money to pay for repairs...”

Hanameen put a hand to her chin in thought. “I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. We may be able to find someone to take pity on you and do it for a reduced price, or for free. You’ll have to hash out the details.

Do you know where to find the Crystalline Mean?”

Ves scratched at his face with a finger, “I’m afraid not.”

“Here, I’ll walk you there then. It’s just upstairs, and the stairs, lucky us, are right next to the Spagyrics.  It’ll take only a minute.”

“Only a minute!” Chessamile repeated. “Famous last words.”

Hanameen ignored her and moved over towards the doorway to wait, with Ves trailing behind her like some pitiful looking stray. “We’ll be back!” She called out, before leading him away.

As they turned left to walk towards the iron stairwell leading upwards, Ves looked back several times. “...You were right, she’s a spitfire.”

“I told you! She can take care of herself, certainly.

So what happened in the woods?”

“Pardon?”

“You know, before the Exarch came out to meet you.”

“OH- oh-” At that point Ves was hardly sure if he should share or not.

...It would probably be all right.

“Well- I was stumbling down the path, completely lost, when I ran into one of the Crystarium’s patrol groups- the ones with the blue scarves?” “Those are the Lakeland guards. They’re stationed outside at Fort Jobb and watch the roads. My two sons’ father is with their unit.”

“Oh?” Ves’ ears perked up. “Oh- I see.

Anyhow, I had run into them and ...Captain Lyna?? The viera??” Hanameen raised a brow and paused at the top of the first set of stairs. “The what??”

“...The viera?” “What’s that?”

Ves stood still, mid-step. “...You know… the ears?” He raised his hand and motioned above his head.

“You mean Viis?”

“I thought her name was Lyna-” “No, no, Captain Lyna is a Viis. You know, with the,” Hanameen mimicked his motion with both her hands above her own head.

“...OH- oh-” “Viera… what a strange word. Do you have words for the others as well?”

“I mean- maybe??” Ves huffed. The stairs just kept on going.

“Well- what are we called then?” Hanameen asked, continuing on.

“Elezen.”

She laughed in disbelief. “Elezen?? Now I’m really curious as to where you’re from.”

“Well what are we called then? Here??” “Elves.” “...Elves? And you think elezen is ridiculous?”

“A little bit!”

By the time they had reached the top of the final stairwell, Ves was out of breath. Though he’d at least learned several new words by then.

Hanameen seemed perfectly fine. “Goodness, look at you. Do they have stairs where you’re from I wonder?” Ves’ brows furrowed once he caught his breath. “It’s been a very long several days, I’ll have you know. I have no idea where I am, or how I even got here. I think I’ve a right to be tired after three entire stairwells.” He hadn’t gone up that many stairs in a while, truthfully. But he wasn’t about to admit that.

Not to mention, carrying the prosthetic only added to everything, as it was a bit on the heavy side (and this was the lighter model, Mei had said...)

“Don’t remember, and why is that?” Hanameen asked, hands at her hips.

“Pixies.”

“Pixies? You came from Il Mheg?”

“I think so… I just woke up in a field of flowers and managed to find my way to the forest outside the city.”

“Well that explains it. They’re tricksy little things, pixies. You’d do well to stay away from there in the future, lest you be forgetting everything you’ve just learned today!

Anyway, here we are, you see that terrace over there?” Hanameen walked a few paces away from the stairs and pointed straight ahead. “That’s the Crystalline Mean. Many of the city’s crafters gather here and set up shop, if you will.”

Ves frowned as he raised his brows, scanning the area jam packed with said craftsman and all their...crafts. And things. There were entire stations set up and dedicated to every sort of thing he could possibly imagine. Where would he even start?

“...Overwhelming isn’t it?”

“...Yes.” Hanameen sighed through her nose, “Come on. I’ll introduce you.

...Come on!!”

Ves shook himself out of whatever intimidated trance he’d fallen into and quickly went after her.

“Katliss!!” The woman raised an arm in greeting as they approached another elezen- or elf woman in a leather tunic and a hat with goggles standing at a wooden counter.

“Hanameen! ...You never come up here. What do you need?” Katliss asked, sizing up Vesevont from her spot. “Newcomer?”

“Yes, his prosthetic is damaged. He came in complaining about muscular pain, but I think we figured out that it was his arm causing that.”

Katliss sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly. “That’ll do it. Can’t say I’ve seen any prosthetics of that make before. That’s quite a fancy piece of equipment you’ve got there.” Not to mention his coat. “Eulmoran?” “I don’t know.” Ves answered flatly.

“Pixies got to him.” Katliss cringed and sucked her teeth. “Ooh. That’s a shame. Well, I can find someone to look at it for you if you’ll give me a moment. From that slack-jawed look on your face I take it you don’t have a method of payment either huh?”

Ves’ ears turned bright red again. “...No. I don’t.” The woman laughed. “We’ll figure it out. Come on then! I’ll take him off your hands Hana.”

Hanameen smiled, “Thanks.

Well it was nice meeting you Vesevont! Try not to pull anything else while you’re here.”

Ves sputtered and squinted at her as Katliss took the prosthetic from him. Hanameen waved at him several times before leaving back to the stairs.

The knight let out a low ‘hmmm’ as they moved further into the terrace in search of a mechanic.

“Are those that work in the Spagyrics normally that… well not standoffish but-” “Sarcastic? A bite to their humor? Absolutely. With how many people come in day in and day out, dying or otherwise, I’d imagine you’d have to be in order to keep your head intact.”

“Mm...” That much he could understand.

[hhunjins]

Pairing: Changbin x female reader

Genre: coffeeshop!au, badboy!Changbin

Word Count: ~3,000

Warnings: Mentions of violence/blood but nothing graphic

Summary: Everyone at work is scared of the returning customer who has tattoos swirling up his arms and a piercing gaze. You’re the only one who rings him up because he doesn’t scare you and actually seems pretty sweet.

You’ve been working at the coffee shop for a little over a year. It pays good money and is an easy job. The owner is sweet, giving you free lunch and allowing you to take home any leftovers. Your coworkers are nice too. Min is the one who usually opens and always has a smile on her face when you show up. Hyun is talkative and whips up drinks in a flash, so you depend on him a lot during rush hour. Little Jeongin is the manager’s son and a high-schooler, so he helps you close up after school and then runs home for dinner with his parents. There are a few others too, but they come on the weekends when you’re not scheduled. Out of the four you work with, you’re the only full-time worker, other than the owner of course.

It’s easy to recognize the faces of the people who come often. Sometimes, you learn their names and their orders. It’s easy to strike up conversation when you’re taking their orders. Overall, work is a pleasant experience since everyone’s mood is always happy.

Except for once a week.

There’s this guy who comes in every Friday, orders the same iced coffee and ham and cheese croissant, and sits in the corner for a whole hour until you get off for lunch break. Everyone at work avoids the register around 11:30 since they know he’ll be coming. The moment he steps in, everyone behind the counter quiets and the mood makes a 180-degree turn.

You always greet him with a, “good morning,” and ask him what he wants, even though you know it by heart. Sometimes you wonder if he ever gets sick of it, but you never ask. After you hand him his change and he drops the coins into the tip jar, he always gives you a strained smile and a tilt of his chin. It’s kind of cute, but you don’t say anything about that either.

You also are the one who brings his order to his table because your coworkers are suddenly too busy making drinks or taking orders or cleaning to wait on tables. Some days, he has his jacket off so you can see the dark ink that covers the expanse of his skin. Other days, you see the scabs on his knuckles and the bruises on his face.

When you take your lunch break and sit down at a small table near his, you sneak looks at him. There’s something in the dark aura that he exudes that makes him interesting. The way he doesn’t say much but still manages to capture your attention. You’re especially interested in the tattoos on his arm. He always leaves before you finish your sandwich, so you never have the time to ask him his name or any of the questions you have on your mind.

Jeongin is sick today and your boss had stayed home to take care of her son so you close up on your own. You close the blinds and make sure all the lights are off before you leave. The sky is dark, the streetlamps acting like pseudo-stars since the light pollution on Seoul sucks. The night air is cold since it’s the weird period between autumn and winter. You pull your coat closer and your scarf up to cover your nose. After locking the front door and making sure that the back entrance was locked too, you begin your walk to the bus stop.

Thursday nights were the weird ones. There weren’t a lot of people wandering around at night, which made walking and finding bus seats easier, but at the same time there weren’t enough to make you feel comfortable walking on your own. Inside your pocket, you grip your keys between your knuckles, though you’re sure you never have to go to the extent of using it, you like to err on the side of caution.

You make it to the bus stop and sit down in the lighted area, a breath you didn’t think you were holding escaping from your lips. The smell of alcohol hits you before you see him and your face scrunches up when you see a drunk man plop down in the seat next to you. Who in their right mind gets drunk on a Thursday night?

“Hello.”

Oh great, now he’s trying to make conversation. You scoot away to the edge of your seat and your grip tightens around your keys again.

“Hey, I said hello.”

Can the bus come any faster? You move off your seat to stand, leaning on the edge of the bulletin boards instead so you wouldn’t have to sit next to the man and the stench of his alcohol breath.

“Why are you going home alone?”

When the bus pulls up to the curb, you get on and find a seat before the man can continue bothering you. It’s a relatively empty bus, so finding an empty seat is easy. You lean your head on the window, getting ready to plug in your earbuds. To your dismay however, he stumbles on, sets his eyes on you and sits down in your row across the aisle.

The bus begins to move, and you begin to pray that this ride ends soon. You really couldn’t stand this dude. The bus screeches to a halt though, only moments after it moves and you groan to yourself. You’re getting ready to shoot the worst glare you can muster to the one who’s holding everyone up when the unknown regular at the coffee shop gets on. You frown in confusion instead, tilting your head when he pays and makes his way down the aisle to grab a seat.

When he makes eye contact with you, the drunken man decides to get up and climb his way into the empty seat next to you. Maybe it was the sudden panic on your expression that compelled him to do it, but he somehow manages to slide into the seat before the drunk man can. The drunkard sputters for a moment, glaring daggers at the both of you. “I was going to sit there.”

“I got here first.” Coffee-shop regular raises an eyebrow and rolls up his sleeves.

After the initial shock wears off, you only hope that your scarf is enough to cover the burning in your cheeks. You watch as the drunken man grumble something under his breath and sit back down. Your eyes travel over to your seatmate’s and you give him a short nod. “Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem, y/n.”

You look back at him. “You know my name?”

He gives you the forced smile you recognize. “Your nametag.”

“Ah.” Now you really feel embarrassed. You fiddle with your phone for a moment, finding the right playlist and pressing play. “Can I know your name?” you stutter. “I know all the regulars’ name except yours.”

“Huh?” It’s his turn to look confused.

“Never mind. I didn’t say anything.” You’re too busy trying to find something to do to distract yourself that you don’t notice him smile to himself.

“Changbin. Glad to see you recognize me.”

You let out a choked sound of embarrassment. How many times were you going to do that tonight? “Thanks, Changbin.”

“No big deal.”

When Changbin shows up the next day, he’s surprised when you tell him to head to his normal seat. “But I didn’t order yet?” His wallet is already half open, and you furrow your eyebrows when you see the bandages wrapped around his hand.

“I know your order. I’ll bring it out right after your croissant is heated up,” you say with a smile. “Don’t worry about paying either. It’s on me today.”

He lets out a breath of laughter. “Is this your way of thanking me for last night? I said it was nothing.”

“You’re holding up the line Changbin, just go to your seat!” You shoo him off and then exchange spots with Min, who is looking at you like you grew another head.

“You learned his name? What happened last night? Y/n, what?” she whispers into your ear as you move.

You just shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.”

When Changbin slides into the empty seat across from you during your break, you nearly spit your drink in his face.

“Hi,” he says simply. He has his elbows rested on the table top and his eyes searching for something beyond the window. He looks comfortable, like he hasn’t just plopped down across an acquaintance. The swirling ink on his arms capture your attention, though it’s quickly interrupted. “You keep staring.”

Your eyes widen a fraction and then look back down at your cup. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Your coworkers are staring too. Am I being too forward?” He turns and looks at you, tilting his head to the side.

“What?”

“Yeah, I thought so. Sorry. I was wondering if you’d want to hang out after you finish up here tonight. I’ll pay for dinner so we’re even.”

Your face scrunches up in confusion. “What?” you repeat.

Changbin stifles a smile. “Dinner tonight?”

When Changbin shows up the next week, you can feel your coworkers’ stares on the back of your head. He gives you a full smile this time instead of the half-hearted one and puts the rest of his change into the tip jar instead of just the coins. When you serve him his coffee and croissant, he quietly says, “thanks, y/n,” and gives you a little tilt of his chin.

Hyun blatantly stares. Min keeps giving you the eye while looking over at Changbin sipping his coffee. When you take your break, Changbin appears in front of you again and asks you out for a second dinner.

It’s somewhere between the hours of when Changbin arrives at the coffee shop at 11:30 and those weekly dinner dates that you find yourself looking forward to seeing the way his eyes sparkle and that weird smile he gives you. You find yourself intrigued by the skulls on his arms and the flowers inked onto his chest. But there’s also something off about him that catches you off guard: the purple bruises on his cheekbones and the never healing scars on his hands. His actions are genuine, but you can’t help but wonder if the sweet man that treats you out every week has another side you don’t know of.

It’s been a whole five minutes after 11:30 and Changbin is nowhere to be seen. You don’t even realize you’re zoning out until Hyun taps your shoulder and tells you that maybe you should take a short bathroom break since you don’t look too well.

Even when you take your break, he doesn’t show up. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach that you try to quell with warm tea, but it doesn’t go away. You know that you shouldn’t be worrying because, after all, he’s just a coffee shop regular and you just happen to be the only one who dares to serve the intimidating dude who doesn’t say much. But the more you think about it, the worse you feel. If he really was just a coffee shop regular, what did those dinners mean? If he really was just a coffee shop regular, why would you be waiting for him to burst into those doors with that forced smile and chin tilt as he pays for his iced coffee and ham and cheese croissant?

Hours pass by and before you know it, it’s closing time. You’re beginning to wipe the tables clean while Jeongin takes out the trash when he bursts back into the building with a terrified look on his face.

“Noona, there’s a someone in the back alley,” he pants. You frown, dropping the towel on the table and wiping your hands, but Jeongin grabs your arm and shakes his head before you can even move. “He looks scary! He’s bleeding and, honestly, maybe we should call the police.”

“Jeongin, did you see what he looks like?”

“No, I ran back in here because I was scared!” Jeongin shakes his head again. “I’ll call the police, okay? Noona, can you make sure I locked the door?”

“Come with me!” With how panicked Jeongin sounds, you’re beginning to worry too. Jeongin makes a face but you grab his wrist and drag him towards the back door. You venture first though, and you can feel Jeongin’s fingers digging into your skin. You reach the doorknob and grab hold of it, twisting it slightly to see if it would give. It doesn’t, to your relief, but the loud thump against the door causes both of you to scream. He peels himself from your grip and launches himself out of the room. In your haste to chase after him, you trip over a broom and go tumbling to the floor.

There’s another thump on the door, and you hear Jeongin call your name worriedly. But before you can pull yourself up and get out of there, you hear your name being called from the opposite direction from an oddly familiar voice.

You don’t know how you managed to do it, but you dragged Changbin onto the bus and back to your place without dropping him on the concrete or garnering too many weird stares. He was very adamant about not being brought to the hospital even though he was only half conscious when you opened the back door and he literally fell on you.

Jeongin wasn’t much of a help, scared stiff and staring only at the mess Changbin was making on the floor with his blood. But he had cleaned up well and even helped you walk Changbin to the bus stop before running home. You had made him promise not to tell his mom and he agreed, though you’re sure the shock would keep him quiet anyway.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be going to the hospital?” you ask again.

Changbin shakes his head. “It’s not bad, it just looks bad.” He lets out a soft groan as he shifts his body on your couch. “Sorry, I’m probably ruining your couch.”

You open your mouth but are stunned silent for a moment. “Okay, that doesn’t make me feel better at all.” You leave to rummage through your bathroom cabinet for your first aid kit and wet a spare towel while you’re at it. When you return, Changbin has his eyes closed and head tilted back. “Please don’t close your eyes, I’m really scared you’re going to pass out on my couch.” Your fingers are shaky as you drop down all of the supplies on the little coffee table. “Okay, I have no idea where to start. I don’t know what I’m doing.” You hold up the towel. “I’m going to wipe all the blood of your face first, is that okay?”

Changbin only lets out a soft noise to show his agreement.

You find a place to sit on the couch and begin to dab the blood off Changbin’s temple. Once most of it is gone, you realize what he means by ‘it just looks bad.’ The scratch isn’t big, but it looks painful. “Hey, you may or may not have a concussion, right?” you whisper. “I’m so bad at this, I’m the worst person you could have gone to, Changbin.”

He is silent, but his chest rises and falls in a steady pattern.

“Are you sleeping?” you say. After he offers no reply, you can only blink in confusion. “Oh my god, he fell asleep.” You let out a sigh and try to get off the couch without jostling him too much. You walk into the kitchen and rinse the towel under warm water, washing your hands too. The metallic smell of his blood makes your nose wrinkle, but you’re more worried about the man on your couch than yourself at the moment. When you return to the couch, you take a deep breath as you survey your first aid supplies. “Let’s just do the best you can and pray that he makes it out alive.” You give a half-hearted glare to Changbin’s sleeping form. “This is me paying you back for dinner.”

You’re surprised to see that Changbin is able to stand and walk the next morning when he appears in the kitchen after shuffling in silently. “You’re awake? I thought you’d be out until at least noon.”

“I’m used to it.” Changbin looks awkward as he shifts from one foot to the other. “Hey, thanks for cleaning me up. I really don’t know why I came to you, but thanks for dealing with that whole thing. I didn’t mean to put you in a hard place, you were just the first person I thought of.” He looks like he wants to say more, but you shake your head.

“Sit down. I’ll make you some breakfast.” You pull out the frying pan from the cabinets and see him sit down out of the corner of your eye. “Don’t worry about it. I’d do it all over again if you needed me to.”

“Your coworkers are staring again. You would think after nearly four months they would have gotten used to seeing me sit with you.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re holding my hand.”

“Oh, right.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Or maybe it’s your black eye. Speaking of which, are you going to explain yourself?”

Changbin gives you a sheepish smile and pulls his hand from yours to hold them in his lap. “An accident?” he tries.

“Accident, my foot.” You bite into your sandwich while glaring at him. “You said you’d stop finding trouble.”

“It finds me! This guy was basically asking for me to punch him in the face,” Changbin protests.

You let out a sigh and shake your head. “And we said that you wouldn’t do that anymore, remember?”

“Actually, you said–” He closes his mouth when you shoot him another glare. “Okay, sorry.” Changbin licks his lips and leans forward in his seat. “Hey, why’d you cover it up?” He grins as he looks at the band-aid on your wrist.

“Stop trying to change the subject.” You take a sip of your drink, hoping that the wide rim of the cup covers the pink dusting of your cheeks. “And it’s so no one wonders why I have a croissant on my wrist.”  

Changbin reaches out to run his thumb over the bandage and tries to hide the wide smile tugging on his lips. “I hope you take it off soon so your coworkers can see it. I think it’s cute.” He pats your wrist with his hand. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner, y/n. See you later!”

As he leaves, you see the coffee cup on his wrist and smile as well.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 059: The Origin of One for All

Previously on BnHA: Deku said farewell to Gran and headed back to U.A. Bakugou’s Jeanist hair was featured in just one panel, but forever left its impact on me and henceforth I will observe a moment of silence for Bakugou’s dignity each year on the anniversary of this day. The kids discussed their internships. Iida, Deku, and Todoroki received extra attention due to the whole Hero Killer thing. All Might conducted some training. Deku showed off his new skills. All Might asked Deku to visit him after class SO THAT HE CAN FINALLY TELL HIM ALL OF HIS SECRETS AND EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS PAST AND ABOUT ONE FOR ALL. OH MY GOD SOMEONE HOLD ME, HOW I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS DAY.

Today on BnHA: Mineta gets some comeuppance. Deku chats with All Might. All Might reveals the origins of All for One, a man whose quirk allows him to steal other quirks as well as grant them to others. We learn that One for All came to exist when this same man transferred a quirk to his brother which mutated and allowed his brother to pass on that power from generation to generation. All Might warns Deku that he might have to face All for One someday. Deku says he’ll be fine as long as All Might’s by his side. (: Aizawa announces a summer trip to a forest training camp. All for One’s face is finally revealed (!!).

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 132 now, so any ETAs will reflect that. 

**There are manga spoilers in this post for BnHA chapter 131, which has not yet aired in the anime.** These spoilers are marked, but it’s the first time this has come up, so please take heed. If anyone has any feedback regarding ways to possibly do this better, I’m definitely open to it!)

something about that number 59 that I really love... can’t quite put my finger on it :)

(ETA: present me is feeling less playfully cryptic than past me, and realizes that not everyone reading a BnHA recap is going to have detailed knowledge of the KHR fandom and all of its weird idiosyncrasies, which include, among other things, a system in which each character has a corresponding number. so just to be clear, 59 is a reference to this asshole, a.k.a. my favorite character now and always. and I could, in fact, actually put my finger on it, and if there ever comes a day when I don’t associate that number with him, it’ll be safe to assume that I am either an impostor or dead.)

anyways I have skyhigh fucking expectations for this chapter now, so let’s hope it can deliver!

JIROU PROFILE!

imagine being able to fuck up someone’s internal organs with the sound of your own heartbeat

six meters is nothing to laugh at; that’s some pretty decent range there. and she seems to have full control over the jacks’ movements the entire time

so I read Jirou as a lesbian, and I’m curious what everyone else’s thoughts are. yay? nay?

and I mentioned this a while ago, but I’ve shipped her and Momo since like chapter 16, and I still ship it lol

on to the chapter!

the kids of class A are changing back into their normal uniforms after All Might’s training session. Deku is wondering what All Might wants to talk to him about, and he’s a little nervous

Mineta is calling Deku over and saying he’s made a discovery. Mineta how dare you pollute my chapter 59 with your garbage presence

yep it’s exactly what I thought it was. little shit found a peephole leading to the girl’s locker room on the other side

Iida’s telling him to stop, but he’s not doing nearly enough

omg

I feel like this should have some kind of trigger warning. in fact, I was originally going to post the closeup of the earphone jack stabbing right into his eye, but then I was like, you know what, let’s just err on the side of caution

have I mentioned how much I fucking love Jirou omgg. only regret is that she didn’t take out both his eyes

OH MY GOD SHE’S USING HER QUIRK TO FUCK UP HIS EYE EVEN MORE

“YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW” YESSSSSSSSSSSS. THAT’S MY CHAPTER 59!!!!!

NOW DEKU IS IN ALL MIGHT’S BREAK ROOM. OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

RIGHT??!?!

All Might says he’s sorry he wasn’t by Deku’s side. “you’ve been through a lot”

omgggggggg

-- OH FUCKING SHIT

OH SHIT OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED

“do you remember what I said when I granted you this power?” omg. DNA. oh my god oh my god

THANK FUCKING GOD?!?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME, CHRIST

jesus. okay so he says One for All won’t transfer to a new recipient unless the user wills it to

so it can’t be taken by force, but he does interestingly point out that it can be passed on to someone else without their consent. which is true, and something I hadn’t considered! if you got someone to unknowingly take in some of your DNA (or hell, it doesn’t even have to be unknowingly, does it. can you also transfer One for All through makeouts or sexy times?? omg), you could pass the ability to them without their knowledge. or even against someone’s will. though I have no idea why anyone would ever want to do that

(ETA: actually, it’s since occurred to me that there is at least one scenario where someone might be forced to do that, and that’s to prevent the quirk from falling into All for One’s hands once again. and now I really want a plot line in which Deku is forced to do this. talk about the ultimate sacrifice play. I don’t necessarily see it happening in the series -- although it would be amazing!! -- but my god I would read the shit out of that fanfic. just so long as it has a happy ending in which Deku escapes and One for All is restored back to him, though. oh man. now I’m thinking about this wayyyy too much hahaha.)

he says One for All comes from another quirk!

ALL FOR ONE?!

-- it ROBS others of their quirks omg

okay so obviously All for One must have this quirk. and I mean, it’s the perfect villain quirk. it ties into what’s been going on with the Noumus. and most importantly, it’s the antithesis of All Might’s own (former) quirk. One for All vs. All for One. literally doesn’t get more balanced than that

exactly like with the Noumus

calling it right fucking now, someone Deku knows is going to have their quirk stolen

imagine if it was Bakugou. and all of a sudden he was rendered quirkless. the thing he despises the most. omg. I think I mentioned in a previous post that I know we’re gonna get some Baku angst at some point, and now that I know this is fucking possible, holy shit. it really could happen, maybe. omg

(ETA: lol get ready for all my speculation from the Forest Training Camp arc up until basically the end of the Hideout Raid arc to be tinted by this lens. I fucking spooked myself a bit there.)

okay so apparently this all started back when quirks were just becoming a thing. so we’re talking a ways back. and I guess that makes sense, given that Deku is supposedly the ninth-gen user of One for All

so basically when quirks first came onto the scene, it was like X-Men. everything was in upheaval, people were scared of people with quirks, and basically no one knew what to do and society went nuts

but some guy came along and “brought the people together”

wow the dude fucking took over the entire country of Japan. I would fucking hope Deku had heard of this guy, then?

he has heard of it, but only through “rumors”, and he thought it was all made up. apparently they kept this incident out of the textbooks. so this guy’s influence must be extraordinary even now

now All Might’s explaining how One for All came about from all of this!

just like fucking Noumu omg

that’s what I just said, Deku. geez. fine I’ll be quiet

so All Might says that in some cases when people were granted quirks, their quirks mutated and blended together

omg

holy shit

so he had a quirk that did nothing except allow itself to be passed down to someone else. but then for some unknown reason, Big Bad gives him a crazy powerful new quirk, and that new quirk merges with the passing-down quirk

can I just quickly say, I love that the brothers’ original quirks were so closely related, since it makes sense what with them being blood related

All Might says justice is always born from evil. that’s a good line, dammit

Deku’s asking so then how can that original guy from all those years ago still be around. I’m guessing he must have stolen some sort of immortality quirk

and All Might theorizes the same

holy shit. so the brother kept opposing him but couldn’t beat him, so he ended up passing his quirk on to the next generation, and the cycle kept repeating itself again and again

(ETA: I couldn’t think of where else to put this, but I just wanted to mention that since One for All works by stockpiling power -- meaning its power increases with every subsequent generation -- this means that Deku is destined to become even stronger than All Might, and that’s so damn exciting.)

what?! that’s all the detail you’re going to go into about this part??

so anyways, this is why he hadn’t told Deku about this yet. because of the whole “you’re destined to have to face this guy yourself one day, maybe” thing. wow

he’s more Dumbledore than I originally thought

but Deku is pretty damn Gryffindor

oh my god ;_;

the fact that he said “as long as you’re with me...”

and now All Might is looking so fucking anguished all of a sudden

oh my god don’t be dying. please don’t be dying All Might

oh god

oh my god. don’t tell me it’s what I thought earlier. that once you give up One for All that’s it and you’re doomed. please don’t let that be the case. if it comes to him thinking he’s going to die, I’d rather it be from the injury. like, something about how modern medicine can only do so much. because at least then there’s hope that someone will come along with some miracle cure quirk or something, maybe. but if his own quirk is killing him, then there probably isn’t anything that can be done, and I don’t know if I can handle that after the bond that these two have formed!! I don’t care if it’s thematically perfect!!

(ETA: ***SPOILER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 131***)

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okay so! this has finally been explained and of course, it’s perfect. the idea of a prophecy is something I didn’t see coming, but once Nighteye’s quirk was established, it made a whole lot of sense. and yet somehow if you can believe it, I still didn’t see it coming lol.

but I like this a lot! because it works as both something that feels inevitable, and something that the characters are determined to fight nonetheless. and it adds an ominous clock-ticking-down feel to everything that’s going to come after this point. although I’ve only read one chapter since then, lol, so I don’t actually have any idea where this is going to head just yet.

but anyway, I’m just happy it was finally addressed, and that Deku’s reaction was as angsty as I could have hoped for, and that All Might’s subsequent response was more perfect than I could have ever dared to dream, and have I mentioned to you guys how much I love Toshinori and Deku’s relationship because oh my god. I love it so damn much.

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(END SPOILERS)

ALL OF A SUDDEN WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO CLASS A. FINE. GOOD. LET’S PUT THESE FEELS ON HOLD FOR NOW

Aizawa says summer break is approaching. I feel like this is a good time to pause for a sec and take stock of who is still fifteen and who is sixteen, because I realized the other day that Bakugou’s April birthday means he’s among the oldest in the class (ETA: in fact he is the oldest), and already turned sixteen before the sports festival

okay, so Aoyama, Hagakure, Satou, and Kaminari have already had their birthdays for sure, and Deku, Iida, Sero, and Mina either also just turned sixteen or they’re going to shortly, because they all have birthdays in the back half of July, and the Japanese summer break is usually in August

interestingly (well it is to me), Todoroki is actually one of the youngest kids in 1-A; his birthday’s not till January. the only younger ones are Kouda, Tsuyu, and Shouji of all people (Shouji you sure are a big guy aincha)

okay now back to your regularly scheduled programming

oooh Aizawa says they’re going to a summer break forest lodge!! yessss omg. this immediately sounds amazing

lol these kids have seriously misinterpreted what kind of trip this is going to be. what fucking school do you all think you’re attending here

yeeees this is my favorite thing, not even gonna pretend. I wonder just how many fanfics are set during this arc hahaha

Aizawa says that if any of them fail the end of term exam, they’ll be stuck in school, and I guess that means they miss out. YOU’D ALL BETTER PASS THEN. EXCEPT MINETA -- YOU CAN GO TO HELL

aww, poor Deku is still sitting there completely distracted by his conversation with Dumbledore -- I mean All Might -- earlier

he really didn’t. and I’ll try not to let any associations with Dumbledore cloud my fondness for that bravest and most selfless and noble of men, the Symbol of Motherfucking Peace, who just doesn’t want to dump all of this on Deku just now, and wants to let him be able to enjoy school and being a kid for as long as he can like normal

and I mean, similarities aside, All Might never pulled any shit like dumping Deku in an abusive household for eleven years, or basically raising him for slaughter and keeping mum about a prophecy that said he had to die

so yeah. All Might, you’re good

my god this has been a good chapter 59

oh my god we’re cutting to THE OTHER END OF THE SKYPE CHAT OH MY GOD. HOLD ME I CAN’T BREATHE

WHERE’S YOUR HEAD OH MY GOD I CAN’T TAKE IT?!

he’s chatting with some mad scientist-looking guy

so he has that same regeneration quirk that the Noumu had, but he received it after All Might wounded him. actually, his fight with All Might was supposed to have taken place five years prior to the start of the series (so six years ago), right? so that would mean he only just got the regeneration power recently

OH SHIT!!!!!

YESSSSSSSSSSS

OH MY GOD HE’S PERFECT. EXACTLY AS CREEPY AND THREATENING AS HE NEEDS TO BE. THE LACK OF EYES REALLY HELPS. WHAT WITH THEM BEING THE WINDOW TO THE SOUL, IT’S ONLY FITTING THAT THIS GUY DOESN’T HAVE ANY

SERIOUSLY, IT IMMEDIATELY MAKES HIM THAT MUCH MORE THREATENING IN MY BRAIN, JUST, LIKE, INSTINCTIVELY. LIKE A SLENDERMAN VIBE ALMOST

and he says All Might should enjoy this “transient peace” while he still can

holy fucking shit

I’m so fucking hyped omg. like this dude absolutely can be the final villain for the next 140 or 240 or 540 chapters, however long it takes to tell the rest of this story. he’s got it. All for One. so fucking perfect holy shit

[shroud-of-roses]

My Method and Tips for Astral Travel

I've read a lot about people who astral travel by leaving their bodies after vigorous practice, patience, and lots of energy. I've also read about people who it comes naturally to. And I have read about the middle ground where I fall, in which we meditate until we are in a loose trance and then travel via visions and such.

I prefer to travel this way, and to explore my home or area for spiritual disruptions and spots where I should focus my protection on. Here's a basic ritual type method of how I get into the trance-like state, and how I do things in the astral realm.

First, I sit or lie down. Typically, I do this at night, in bed, when everything is quiet and no one will disturb me and make me come back to quickly (because that can really throw you for a loop, and definitely makes me disassociate). I anoint my temples with lavender essential oils, and hold a clear quartz in one hand, and an amethyst in the other. I use my energy projecting hand to hold the quartz to help my energy to project and be magnified outside of my body, and I put the amethyst in my energy taking hand to help me be open to the spiritual realm.

Then, I close my eyes. I start by thinking of my "happy place" which is basically just a little area I have built over time in my mind. Some people call it your mind-temple or something similar, but I've always called it my "happy place" or my "spiritual oasis". Typically, this is a water fall. It has a hidden cave behind it, and within the cave, there is a fire that somehow burns despite the water in the air. I have crystals all around the fire, and incense burning (I like the opium incense I once had).

Then, once I am deeply relaxed and completely in a calm state, I begin to immerse myself in energy.

I begin by drawing in the amethyst energy, and projecting it into my environment through the clear quartz. I create a little bubble around my body so I am protected, and have enough energy to move around and affect the energies around me.

After that, I focus on the area I want to go to, or explore. Usually, this is just my home. I will visualize the space as best as I can and then try to move around in a different perspective than I normally would (ex: bird's eye view). I try to see or feel any abnormalities in the energy in the area, and try to fix anything if it has been messed up. Sometimes I strengthen my protection system, or dissipate any stagnant energy I find. Other times I bless certain areas, like my living room, or just do a routine check for any entities.

If I do find entities, I try to talk with them and find out why they're there if I don't already know. Sometimes I try to contact deities and the like.

When I'm finished, I go back to my Oasis, and then, from there, I take a walk through many landscapes that all blend together until I see my home, and eventually my body. I enter it, and stretch my fingers, progressively wiggling the rest of my body. Then I open my eyes if I want to be awake, or drift off to sleep.

Some tips I have from my experiences:

Come prepared to face entities. If you are afraid, they will feed off of that. If you are calm, they will feel that. Some people create astral weapons to use if they have to, but I find my energy is just as powerful.

Rest afterwards. It can drain you, so err on the side of caution and take a short rest.

Practice energy work before doing this. It helps to know how to use your energy in the astral, especially if you want to set up protection or speak with entities.

[gwens-fiction]

First Line Tag Game

Tagged by: @kd-holloman

As much as I’d love to do it for Tropical Storm, that still only has one chapter, so this time I’m going to do it for the first fic in my A Scientific Romance fanfic series: A Scientific Match.

Tagging: @catharticallysarcastic​ @drbibliophile​ @adie-dee​

First lines are under the cut because 30 chapters got a bit long.

Chapter 1:   "Test log number 5089. Love-U-Lator 6000. So last version of my perfect match invention did not appear to work and gave false positives. I've reworked my equations and built it again completely. I'm not going to get Marlene's hopes up again to test this, so instead I am running said test using my own DNA sample."

Chapter 2: When Kowalski came to, he found himself in a little cage. He groaned, rubbing his side and sat up, looking around. In the corner, was that--? Oh no. It is. The Diabologizer.

Chapter 3: Blowhole rolled into his planning room. He looked at the lobsters there as he gathered his thoughts. "Red One, open a new plan file. I think I'll call this one Firefly."

Chapter 4: Kowalski looked at the clock. Time simultaneously was moving too fast and too slow for his liking. He paced the lab again, pausing by a mirror to double check his bow tie.

Chapter 5: Now that was a close one.

Chapter 6: "Earth to Egghead."

Chapter 7: "Hey Doc?"

Chapter 8: Due to Kowalski's grounding, in the end they decide to wait a little longer than just that week for their next date, just to err on the side of caution. And so, one night a month later, Blowhole waited in the park for Kowalski to appear. They had decided on a new meeting spot that hopefully would be less visible by the zoo.

Chapter 9: Kowalski stood by one of the windows, his tail wagging enthusiastically. Blowhole watched him with a small smile. He had expected that the peng-u-in would find an aquatic adventure, where he wasn't the one driving or navigating, interesting, but he had underestimated just how interested he would be.

Chapter 10: So far, this date had felt far more comfortable than the first. Perhaps it was because he was less nervous about impressing Francis and more nervous about Skipper finding out he went against orders. And yet, he still wasn't too worried about that. They were leagues under the sea, after all. But also, he had to admit, going against orders put a whole new exciting spin to this experiment. The stakes were raised. A new challenge was added. It was exhilarating.

Chapter 11: "Kowaaaaalski. Kowalski, wake up."

Chapter 12: Blowhole checked the time on his phone while he listened to a lobster prattle on about his current stock position. All of this information could have been summarized in an email and he was ready to move on to other things that required his attention.

Chapter 13: A week later, Kowalski was driving to New Jersey. It was late in the afternoon. He had told Skipper he needed to go by a lab in Pennsylvania, which was roughly the same distance away, but in the complete opposite direction. At least he had managed to get out during the daylight.

Chapter 14: "Okay, so I'll look up places in New Jersey, and you can check New York," Blowhole said, already typing into the search bar. "Surely we'll find something, but if not, we can check Pennsylvania, too."

Chapter 15: "Careful with that. Knives are sharp you know." Kowalski quickly slid over to assist Private with a pumpkin he was carving.

Chapter 16: "And you're not concerned at all about them seeing us together? Won't my existence here pull your villain credibility into question?" Kowalski asked as he followed Blowhole.

Chapter 17: Kowalski watched out the window. He smiled slightly at all the children out in costumes out trick-or-treating. It felt weird not participating in the zoo's yearly Halloween party. He knew by now that they would have let the park children in for games and treats. Although he knew that everyone had it covered without him, part of him was disappointed with himself that he chose to do this instead.

Chapter 18: It was even darker within the woods than it was on the road between them, thanks to the leaves blocking the moonlight. Kowalski was thankful that he had remembered to bring his night-vision goggles. He could barely see with them as it was. Unlike certain dolphins, he couldn't click his way through the woods to judge tree from empty space. If only echolocation was teachable, with his night-blindness that would be a helpful skill to know.

Chapter 19: Really, the woods weren't too different from marine kelp forests. Sure, it was drier and darker than kelp forests, but it wasn't anything too unfamiliar. It had been years since he last had swam through a forest. He and Doris used to go on routine explorations just for kicks. Kelp hide and seek was always fun, especially if you snuck up behind the seeker and surprised them. Blowhole chuckled and shook his head. Those were good times…

Chapter 20: Once Blowhole had parked the car, Kowalski helped him with his segway before hopping out and dragging his duffle bag out behind him. As fun as it was investigating that old road, he was thankful to be back in fairly normal and probably not haunted territory.

Chapter 21: Blowhole rolled into the room. "Alright, Chrome Claw's back in his room. We can get back to—" He paused once he saw Kowalski. "Where did you get that?"

Chapter 22: Kowalski parked the coup inside the garage and got out with a groan. What he felt was regret. Fake your kidnapping, he said. It'll be easy, he said. He completely left out the part about it being painful. When Francis had mentioned "roughing him up" he did not expect that to entail a one on one surprise mini brawl with one of his on duty agents. He was going to feel this excuse for the next few days.

Chapter 23: "BRAHE'S BOXERS!" Kowalski shrieked as he ducked a sudden oncoming of paintball onslaught. He rolled underneath a shrub and used this moment to catch his breath.

Chapter 24: In the words of Henry David Thoreau, "there are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature." With this in mind, Kowalski found himself in the branches of one of the Central Park trees the following day. He needed to be somewhere alone for awhile and he needed to be away from his lab and the HQ...And Skipper. He needed calm and quiet.

Chapter 25: "Come on, don't drag your feet now." Marlene grunted as she pushed Kowalski across the ice flow. "You said that you wanted to do this. You can't back out now."

Chapter 26: After leaving the HQ, Kowalski slid out to the park. He wasn't surprised at how Skipper reacted. In fact, he had been expecting a worse reaction, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still angry with it. And what exactly did this resignation really entail? Was this just a resignation from the unit as his lieutenant, or was it simultaneously a cut off from them as a family unit as well?

Chapter 27: With a quiet moan, Kowalski opened his eyes and rubbed his head. He slowly sat up and blearily glanced around his surroundings. He was in a small cage and outside the cage there was straw, or perhaps hay? He was no grass expert and his head was pounding still.

Chapter 28: "Just...A few more…Pieces…" Kowalski grunted as he reached as far as he could from the cage for whatever hay he could reach. He bit his tongue as he barely managed to grab a few pieces of straw. He then sat up with a sigh and braided these strands into the short rope he had woven. "There." He held up the rope and tugged on the ends, checking its sturdiness. It wasn't as long or as strong as he would have preferred, but it would do. He then coiled it and hid it behind his back.

Chapter 29: "Step away from the Diabologizer, Blue."

Chapter 30: The door above slammed shut behind him as Blowhole descended the ramp to the room below. Dangling above a large pot of boiling oil was one Blue Hen in a cage. He rolled closer and looked at her. "Comfortable?"

[energyswordsunday]

and time’s arrow marches on.

Cross-Posted on AO3.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Runescape

Relationship: Adwr/Rowena

Characters: Rowena Behr, Adwr Cadarn, Leolin Cadarn

Words: 2990  Chapter: 1/?

Content Warning: Misogyny, Antisemitism, Classism

Summary: 25 Pentember 1927, 4th Age. Yanille, Kandarin. The day Adwr Cadarn's life takes a bittersweet turn. And yet, in the end, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Elf meets human meets forbidden romance.

Chapter Summary: A mysterious farm girl has been the talk of the town for the past 2 years. She seems to constantly be in the public eye, no matter how much she keeps to herself. Fresh from Prifddinas, a young elf has been set on guard duty at the entrance to the village. His naturally inquisitive nature lands him in the pickle of a lifetime. His mission: to get to the bottom of this mystery, and figure out just who this girl really is. With help from his best friend, will this elf be able to talk to the intimidating human?

Behr.    A foul, foul word, like a hex.    The mages never liked her. The name she carries is poisoned, to them, for eternity.    Behr. Behr.    A word that oozes off their tongue, is spat with vitriol; a word that ignites a fiery, burning hatred in their heart.    She is a woman.    A woman, young and full of vigor, and filled to the brim with magical talent.    The elders are scared of her, hiding and hissing her name like a curse, for her raw power makes them insecure of their own feeble sparks. Roaches, she calls them. They hiss and spew in quiet tones, but scurry off when faced with confrontation. A mutual relationship of disgust and distrust is what they share, a complex setting where they must occupy the same space; maddening, sickening, but necessary.    She had joined the Mages’ Guild a little over two years prior, against the outcries of these mages. It is incomprehensible to them, still, how she got in. No matter their begging, pleading, grovelling, their Guildmaster will not budge, so they make up stories to soothe themselves. Simple, serpentine, suspiciously spurious stories, about how she threatened, beguiled, seduced him. They try to run her out, but it never works. And they still, still, don’t understand why.    Whatever the true reason, she is a woman, and she is good at magic. Better than all of them. This makes her unholy in the eyes of her guildmates. To them, she is a cheater; she had struck a deal with Zamorak to obtain her power, and in the process, corrupted herself, making her the despicable woman that she is today.    For a handful, she is. Loudmouthed and opinionated, with a sharp tongue to match her wit. Her shoulders are broad, and home to long, curled auburn hair that cascades down her back from under her patched hat, mesmerizing children and adult alike. Stern, scrutinous green eyes set her face, giving one the impression that she could use them to cut glass with ease. Faintly, she smells of hard work and the wilderness. She is Wizard Behr, the Bear from the Woods. And she is not of this earth.    It is clear to anyone who crosses paths with her that this is a stubborn woman. She has bowed her head not once to any man, and has spat in the face of proper society. Local gossip outside the guild pins her as an evil spirit that bewitches foolish men to do her whim. Her scale is in danger of tipping at any moment, her luck due to run out, yet, strangely, she remains unfazed.    “No man in their right mind would allow this beast to practice magic,” A greying wizard hisses to a colleague of his, outside a small building with a magical barrier glistening over its walls and makeshift fence. “I’m still angry that she-devil was let in, and now she has the audacity to make everyone wait on her?”        “Careful, Wizard Flemtoed, she might hear,” the other wizard replies, laced with sarcasm. “You don’t want your guts torn out by a live Behr do you?”    This snippet of conversation glides with the breeze and attracts the attention of a man a distance away. His ears, long and pointed, are fine-tuned to the world around him; what is normally a boon, for him, he wishes he could now deactivate. He is a foreigner in these parts, and still has not quite adjusted to the fact that humans are so different.    This man’s keen sense of hearing has landed him in quite a precarious position on numerous occasions since his migration, and frankly he is a little tired of his accidental eavesdropping, though it breaks the tedium of his daily routine. Consequently, in spite of his interest this time, he errs on the side of caution and keeps to himself.    He is on duty with a few other members from his clan, the Cadarn, who had first passed over Arandar centuries ago to settle and rule Kandarin. Out of a handful of these Elven settlements, the young man is liking his current station the most, as it has the most diversity around him.    Unfortunately, it is also in close proximity to the Ogres, making it a frequent target for raids, which have been rapidly increasing in numbers over the months. Yanille was a bit short-handed as a result, thus prompting King Baxtorian to issue the command leading to his reassignment.    Here, he is to stand guard temporarily in anticipation of a raid, while his fellow clansfolk worked on drafting up better defenses. While it is a fascinating place, guard duty leads to long bouts of boredom for this young man, which cause him to fantasize regularly about all the scouting missions he is missing out on. He often finds himself longing for the freedom and the thrill, along with the exercise.    “Adwr!” A voice barks out at him.        “Ah–?!” The young man jumps, having been caught red-handed in his daydreams. He is met with an intense gaze from his best friend, another elf from his clan, who is stationed about twenty feet from him.    “Don’t make me lecture you again,” the elf warns Adwr, soft but stern. This is a conversation they have had hundreds of times throughout their friendship, but without his help, in all honesty, Adwr doesn’t know how he would have survived his studies, let alone this guard assignment.        “Right,” Adwr chirps back, flashing his friend a sheepish smile. In his own defense, however, waiting around just in case anything happens is pretty boring. He doesn’t understand how people can just… stand there, and do nothing. He sighs and clicks his tongue, focusing on counting and naming all the types of wildlife he sees in front of him, again.    He’s somewhere through his third or fourth ‘I Spy’ game when the whispers that had distracted him moments ago suddenly grow to a hush. The crowd of wizards disperses, as if on cue, every one of them suddenly very late for things they have to do. A mixture of teleportation, running, and meandering occurs, leaving the courtyard bare. All except for one wizard, of course, who lingers – a sharp looking older man who really, really has no business growing a beard that long. Adwr can’t help but sneak a glance over in that direction.    “You’re late,” the older man grumbles, seemingly to himself. “You know how the Mages’ Guild feels about tardiness, right, Behr?”    The object of this man’s dispassionate scolding makes an irritated noise and waves her hand at her superior dismissively. “Farm business. You know, Art.”    The mass of vibrant curls that enters the village in front of him catches Adwr’s attention in an instant. His hand magnetizes to his chin, mouth slightly agape; his companion snorts, but the sound doesn’t register to the pale elf.    This is the woman that the villagers speak so ill of? 'Interesting', he thinks.    “Wizard Behr, I have made it clear that you are to refer to your colleagues with respect. This includes your leader,” the grumpy wizard starts. “You’d do well to note that I am the sole reason you were allowed entrance.”        “Oh, Gods be damned. What are we, monks? Ain’t your ma given you a name for a reason?” She counters.    The redhead shakes her head, giving a grunt of irritation. The tension between the two indicates to Adwr that this is conversation that is had very regularly.    “That is beside the point, Wizard Behr. Now come on, we haven’t got all day, and a full roster is required for this meeting in order to begin.” ‘Art’ resumes. The lines on his face seem to be less from old age and more from stress.        “Fine, fine. Just remember, I have a life an’ family too, ya know?”    “As do we all.”    The two wizards quiet down, taking to mumbling and grumbling to one another and themselves as they approach their guild building. Adwr watches them, engrossed, until his companion butts in again, this time with a gentle tap to his shoulder.    “Hey, pysgodyn aur. Our relief is here. Let’s go have some rarebit before you starve to death.”        “Rarebit… Oh! Lunch! I completely forgot!” Adwr replies. The prospect of food is enough to lure him away from his thoughts.    “I swear, I should just tie some cheese to a fishing rod and hop on your shoulders. Maybe then you’d pay attention to what’s in front of you.” His companion jokes, as they make their way to the meal tent.        “Only if it’s gouda cheese,” Adwr hums back, well aware he’s being ribbed.    The exasperated noise he receives in return is worth the pun. “We don’t even make gouda!”    The pale elf chuckles. “I’ll settle for tintern then.”    “Maybe in the next few years when we make it back to Prifddinas,” says the darker elf.        “I can wait as long as I need for some good cheese!”    “And as always, my point has been proven.”    In good spirits, the two elves plate up and make off to the corner of the tent, where it’s dim and quiet, absent of any distractions or irritants. Adwr seems pleased, content to share his meal with his childhood friend in peace.    Said friend has always understood that Adwr is a little… Odd. Different from other elves, certainly, but pleasant to talk to, passionate, and a very intelligent, creative-minded individual. It was a huge relief to him when they both got older and Adwr hadn’t taken on the arrogant, self-absorbed demeanor so many others of their age groups tended to due to their success and upbringing.    The elf, himself, was also considered strange, but in a different way. Whereas Adwr never really fit in socially, his companion was fine in that regard, where applicable. Instead, his problems lied in his heritage: he was born into a poor family of workers.    He would have been doomed to the same fate, had his family not encouraged and fostered his love for archery. Amongst his peers, this elf was an exceptional shot, but this carefully cultivated talent was always unfairly put under scrutiny. Elves of more influential families made no hesitations in reminding him that he was strange for trying to break out of his designated ‘box.’ Growing up, for him, was a constant unending struggle to prove his worth and fight for his own right to be put in the same courses as his peers.    Adwr, however, is different. This elf always held a specific sort of admiration, and a bit of jealousy, towards his friend, for though Adwr was othered based on his various quirks, he still regarded everyone with the same sort of respect, purely for the joy of friendship. It was Adwr who had approached him and extended his hand, and it was always Adwr who would stick up for him against the rest of their peers. He is thankful, truly, and wishes he could purely be just grateful and appreciative towards him, but there is always a part of him that will be jealous, for he truly had life easier. He never wants Adwr to know this, though, for he understands that Adwr wasn’t trying to play savior to him. But... Everyone has their own demons.    “Leolin. You haven’t touched your rarebit, are you okay?” Adwr interrupts his train of thought with his standard fare. It is a nice gesture, but sometimes Leolin just wishes his friend would let him mope.       “Mmh,” is the response he receives from his melancholic buddy. “I’m fine, just thinking about some things.” He puts on his best smile and Adwr seems to be soothed.    “Well, it’s really good today – they finally got the texture right this time! But I still think that rotating cooking shifts are the worst idea. I know we all were taught how to cook growing up, but some days, I really can’t stomach what’s put out.”    The elf’s passionate chatter warms Leolin a bit, inspiring him to sample the meal in front of him as he finishes speaking. It really is no use trying to be sad around this man. He takes a bite, and nods to indicate his pleasure.    “You’re right. My compliments to the chef – this is actually pretty good for the rarebit we have out here. They must have had a good run in with the locals,” Leolin muses. Quality elven ingredients weren’t always easy to come by out in these parts, so it can be assumed that there was some good luck with trading today.    This reminded him of the wizard that caused that commotion earlier, who was rumored to have come from a large local farm. Maybe she was late because her family was busy trading with their clan? His eyes glint with mischief as he remembers what he was planning to pester Adwr about.    “Speaking of locals… So how about that little redhead you were eyeing up earlier?” Leolin lilts, a devilish grin on his face. “You like farm girls, Adwr?”    Adwr nearly chokes on the piece of bread he’s currently attempting to swallow, causing him to slam a fist down on the shabby table as he tries not to cough it back in his friend’s face. The table wobbles, and Leolin’s plate jostles a little.    “Ach – No!” are the first words out of his mouth before he catches his breath and clears his throat. A light blush dusts his face thanks to the teasing and his lack of air.    “It wasn’t like that! You know I don’t engage in those sorts of behaviors, Leo, I was just curious! Did you see her hair? She stood out! And – I – Look, it was a coincidence. You know how easily distracted I am by noise.”    Leolin almost feels bad for messing with his friend, but gives him a long, drawn out wink and continues on anyways. “Oh, yeah, su~ure. Why so defensive? You just don’t want to admit that the human was cute.”    Adwr huffs indignantly, folding his arms and turning his head pointedly away. “I refuse to answer to your harassment.”    He sneaks a peak at Leolin after his show of being offended, who is giving him a very silly looking face. They meet eyes for a few seconds before Leolin wiggles his eyebrows at him, prompting them both to burst into a giggle fit. It takes at least a minute before they are able to regain their composure again.    “In all seriousness, though, what is with that ‘Behr’ girl?” Adwr asks. “You’ve been here longer than I have. She seems to be a controversial figure in this village. I just can’t wrap my head around why.”    Leolin fixes his friend with a serious gaze. “Rowena? Well, that’s her name, for starters.”    “Rowena,” Adwr repeats, waiting for him to continue.        “Yeah. She’s from some local farm I guess. And she’s the only woman in the Mages’ Guild here, from what I hear.” Something about what he just said to Adwr resonates deeply with Leolin. Another misfit, perhaps?    “Really? There’s no other women? Why?” The paler probes.        “Afraid I don’t know the answer to that. Why don’t you ask her?”    “I can’t! I don’t know her, what if she gets angry with me? I don’t want to be insensitive.”        “That didn’t stop you from talking to me when we first met. Come on, she’s only a human. Humans are practically harmless. I can stand there with you.” Leolin’s offer only makes Adwr frown more, worry creasing his face. Was he really that afraid of offending her?    “I don’t know. I think… I should watch and listen a bit more. I know she’s a human, Leo, but I can’t shake this feeling that she really is as scary as what the people here say.”        “My dear friend, you should know by now that just because people say something about someone, that doesn’t always mean it’s true.”    Adwr shakes his head. “Maybe humans are different like that. You’re forgetting that… That I haven’t actually talked to a human before, Leo.”    Leolin frowns at his friend’s increasingly negative behavior. This wasn’t typical for him. “Hey. What happened to that endless optimism? You were so excited about all the humans that lived here when I talked to you a few days ago. You can’t let your fear of one bad experience hold you back suddenly.”    A small, timid smile works its way to Adwr’s face. “I can, but I shouldn’t, I suppose.”    He looks back at his friend’s freckled face, and takes a deep breath. “I think if I talk to her, I should do it by myself. But. You can stand nearby, if you want, in case things go south. As long as I don’t have to do it right this second.”    “That’s better. I would be glad to stand guard, my friend. It’ll be a favor returned for all the times you were there for me whenever I had to talk to an instructor.” Leolin gives his friend a toothy smile and reaches across the table to offer his hand.    Adwr accepts the gesture, gripping his friend’s hand firmly with his own, and giving it a nice shake. “It’s a deal, then?”    “Deal. So, do you want to work on a list of questions, just in case?” Leolin offered this for his friend in fond memory of all the times Adwr had him do the same. Only, in this case, rather than passing someone a note, the intention was to prepare Adwr to speak to Rowena.        “I don’t want her to think it’s a survey!” Adwr replies hastily.    Leolin snorts. “It won’t be a survey, silly. I meant so you know what you want to say, and how, so you won’t choke up.”    “Oh. Well… In that case, let us commence!” Adwr rises to his feet, suddenly full of vigor and determination. He looks down at Leolin expectantly.        “Okay, fine. I’ll take my food with. Let’s go.”

Notes:

elves in runescape seem to speak welsh and have welsh names, if you're wondering about that. i didn't just pull that out of nowhere hgkdjghkdj

rowena is jewish CODED. i say this because runescape has its own extensive pantheons of gods and it's not easy to fit an irl religion like that in there without being offensive. so she retains more of the racial aspect than the religious here.

i tag antisemitism with the knowledge that some of the things these people will say does stem from that, but that's only one layer of many of hatred that rowena faces for who she is.

adwr is autistic. he was also a canon runescape character that was really only mentioned by name, adopted by me and my gf. 

[wayneooverton]

Fast cars aren’t just for boys

I don’t know much about cars, but I sure know a sexy car when I see one. And it doesn’t get much sexier than an Aston Martin. You know, the sleek car from the James Bond movies. Yes, I did just write that.

When my friend came to visit me in New Zealand in the spring, I knew I wanted to surprise her with a fun road trip. And while my old 1995 Nissan Terrano gets the job done, no one has ever mistaken it for a fun sexy vehicle, and zoom it does not. Thank you Ignition Self Drive for offering something a bit more adventurous and memorable. An epic place like Fiordland deserves an epic whip.

And I knew I had to take her to Milford, and I knew her first time driving on the left side of the road should be memorable. There are quite a few locals around the South Island that are up for grabs with the “prettiest places” award, but come on, Milford is popular for a reason. It’s so epic. And we had a forecast for sunshine, and in an area that gets seven meters of rain annually, that means go right now.

Girls roadie to Milford Sound in an Aston Martin? Well, if that’s not one for the books, I don’t know what is.

It was hot sunny spring day as we peeled out of Queenstown on our way to Milford Sound after picking up our ride – a little old Vantage. And by “peeled out” I mean slowly edged our way out of town and braking too hard and almost hitting my face on the steering wheel. I mean, I’m not used to driving cars that actually accelerate normally, let alone fast. I basically have to put my foot to the floor to get my car to move.

I was surprised (and also not so surprised) to learn that it’s almost always men that rent these types of cars. Boys trips, or maybe wives surprising their partners with a trip and they share it, but it’s never just girls, let alone young girls renting sports cars. And here I am to say WHY NOT? Fast cars aren’t just for men! It’s 2017 for pity’s sake. Why is the stereotype just for guys? I mean, even I was susceptible to it. The first time I heard about it was from my friend Jane at Queenstown Life, and I actually thought, wow, I want to do that, I wonder what guy friend could come with me because I couldn’t drive it, you know, before I mentally slapped myself.

Now I’m not saying I drove 20 kilometers under the speed limit for the first hour of the trip, but I might have, and I’m not sure I’ll ever live down the shame of having people overtake me while behind the wheel of an Aston Martin but you live and learn. I hate making blanket statements, but I feel like women tend to err on the side of caution more than men do, and I wasn’t about to gun it in such a fast car, not until I got the hang of it at least.

The road to Milford Sound is probably the most scenic road-trip in New Zealand, and I don’t say that lightly. It’s incredible. And to experience it from a convertible and in a car that goes from zero to one hundred in a couple of seconds? Well, hot damn. Can’t beat that.

Are you allowed to drive an Aston Martin wearing socks and sandals? Asking for a friend…

Kea, the world’s only alpine parrot – it’s relatively easy to spot them in Fiordland

Now, I am not sure how to phrase this…I don’t really care that much about fancy cars. I can’t tell them apart and I definitely can’t tell you any tech specs on them. My knowledge is strictly limited to “ohhh that one looks prettier.”

But I know a classy car when I see one, and the Aston is nothing if not classy. For me, what matters is having memorable experiences on the road, and having fun while traveling, like I imagine most of you guys do to.

And let me tell you, I felt like a fucking queen when I pushed the ignition button on that baby. Honest to god, it makes the sexiest sound when you start it. Bow down before me.

And then sometimes when you’re driving it, it sort of purrs, like it’s telling you to step on it. Honestly, Officer, it wasn’t my fault I was going that fast, the car made me do it. It told me to, I had no choice, really. Have pity.

JK, there are never any cops in Fiordland. Wait, did I just write that publicly?

Alpacas spotted in Te Anau

By the time we rolled through Te Anau, the gateway to Fiordland and Milford, I was definitely getting the hang of it. No brake-slamming on corners and slowly but surely inching getting closer to the speed limit. Not the problem the average renter of this car usually faces I reckon!

I was also quite enjoyed the looks of passerby as two blonde ladies would hop in and out of the car in their hiking clothes.

There are so many epic places to stop on the Milford Road, so make sure you build in plenty of time in on a trip there. I can think of nothing worse than having to be in a hurry in Fiordland. And like I said, the Milford Road is one of the most epic roads in New Zealand. The mountains literally tower over you and waterfalls tumble down from glacier and vertical peaks. I’ve driven there quite a few times, but to experience it from a convertible is INCREDIBLE.

And there are also some very lovely straight bits of road too that are just the place to see what the Aston is made of, within reason of course.

Zoom zoom!

And if thought we got funny looks in Te Anau, you should have seen the raised eyebrows as we rolled into the Cascade Creek DOC campsite and pulled a tent out of the back of the car.

What can I say? I love irony!

There really isn’t anywhere to stay in Fiordland once you go on the Milford Road past Te Anau. There is a lodge in Milford Sound, but it’s always booked out with bus tours months in advance (and it’s really pricey) and they don’t allow pitched tents there anymore. But there are plenty of great cheap DOC campsites on the Milford Road between Te Anau and the Homer Tunnel, and trust me, the wardens will get a kick out of it if you pitch a tent next to an Aston Martin there.

Why stay in a luxury lodge when you pitch your tent next to a James Bond car in the wilderness?

At the risk of sounding super cheesy, for me, there is no greater luxury in New Zealand than waking up in the wilds of Fiordland to the sound of rare birds calling, the damp scent of the earth in the early morning about you, and sandflies pinging on your tent fly. We are still so fucking lucky that places like this exist and that we can still experience them.

And yes yes, so sorry to all those I woke up when I started the Aston. I know how to be quiet in the mornings, but he doesn’t.

We spent the next couple of days exploring Fiordland and enjoying the mint weather, as they say in New Zealand. You know, after we had to drive back to Te Anau and rent me hiking boots because I left mine at home. Damnit! Oh, and trying to keep the naughty kea from eating bits off the Aston. Kea are the world’s only alpine parrot, and they are endangered. They are also very cheeky and smart and one of their favorite pastimes is eating windshield wiper rubber, throwing hiking boots off cliffs and causing general havoc and pandemonium. No car is safe.

We headed up to Lake Marian, one of my favorite day hikes in New Zealand, and one I shamelessly kept to myself all these years. I do that sometimes, forgive me. It used to be a great secret, and I never publicly shared where it was. Times have changed, and ain’t a secret no more.

A steady 1.5 hour slog straight uphill over the river and through the woods on a not-so-obviously-marked track will bring you the incredible alpine Lake Marian. Hanging glaciers and huge waterfalls tumble down into a beautiful blue lake. Your eyes will bulge and your mouth will drop open.

And if you’re lucky, you might run into a young guy carrying a wizard costume. Are you ready for the best story ever?

DON’T. EVEN. THINK. ABOUT. IT.

We were just starting out on the trail when a young guy named Akhil ran up to me, recognizing me from my blog (oh shucks, hair flick). Then he asked me something super weird that I had never been asked before in my entire life – would I dress up as Gandalf and pose for him?

Um, what? Blink blink SURE CAN DO!

You don’t have to ask me twice about to do anything Middle Earth related. I’m quite possibly the biggest Lord of the Rings nerd you’ve ever met. If only I was good enough to walk in Gandalf’s shoes one day. Sigh. In the meantime, I can pretend!

You shall not pass!

Akhil was a student in Auckland and then went on a six month trip around New Zealand. As a way of meeting people and showcasing New Zealand in a different way, he would ask them to dress up as Gandalf for photos. So clever. Since then he went viral, and his photos as Gandalf garnered international media hype! Yay! Be sure to give him a follow on Instagram in the meantime.

Me as Gandalf. Proud moment. 

And if getting to dress up as Gandalf is lucky, you might even get luckier (if possible) and spot a whio (Blue Duck) while in Fiordland. They are so special they even are on the $10 note in New Zealand.

Whio (pronounced fee-oh) are a very rare and endangered duck in New Zealand, and they live in swift moving rivers and rapids – there are only about 3000 of them left. I spotted one completely by accident through the bushes as we were making our way down past Marian Falls, and I about shit my pants. I totally lost my cool and fumbled around looking for my camera and telephoto lens babbling incoherently as people stared. It’s a whio people, pay attention! They are really rare!

I had been here for years and never seen a whio before, let alone in the wild. I was so excited!

Also, perfect timing, as March is Whio Awareness Month in New Zealand which I’m helping to promote. More on that soon, but in the meantime be sure to check it out because if you’re in NZ, you could win the chance to be a whio ranger for a day!

Whio (Blue Duck) just chilling at Marian Falls

We finished up our trip kayaking Milford Sound in the pouring rain with Rosco’s, and then trying not to put our wet bums on the nice leather seats or get mud all over the car. And if you were curious, the socks and sandals shot was because of sandflies – I got my boots super muddy hiking, and sandlfies, which are pretty much the worst biting little insects of all time, love bare feet. Never give it to them. Cover the skin.

Anywho, I was so stoked to be able to share this trip with a friend. I almost always travel alone and it makes the experience so much more special if you have someone to share it with. Fiordland is a magical place. The Milford Road (on a sunny day haha) was MADE for convertibles. If you want to treat yourself, do it in an Aston Martin.

I can’t believe I’m saying this in this day an age, but sports cars and luxury hires should be for girls too. It’s so much fun! I never thought as a woman I would enjoy driving fast cars as much as I did or that I even could for that matter. But once I gave it a try, I was hooked. And nothing beats taking a special car to a special place, right? Where to next?

Have you ever driven a sports car? Would you drive an Aston Martin around New Zealand given half the chance? 

Many thanks to Ignition Self Drive for trusting me with their Aston Martin. Like always I’m keeping it real – all opinions are my own – like you could expect less from me!

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