#someone PLEASE write these i have too many works in progress as is

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! Athlete ‎⚽ೃ⋆˚✿˖°

Hello everyone, I hope wherever you guys are, you're having a wonderful day and night, and if not, good times are to come as you deserve. Thank you all so much for 200 supporters ৎ୭ many more writings are being worked on by me for all of you! Never hesitate to talk to me or request in my ask box.

Oskar was an incredibly well-renowned professional soccer player, his position as the striker for his team. He's mainly known for the amount of goals he can make in such a short amount of time, he's extremely resilient as well. Always attempting to get back into the game even when their coach says he is far too injured to do so.

As every team does after a major win, him and his friends went to a houseparty that always lasted until midnight. Of course, tons of women influencers and even celebrities were invited. Several of his mates shoved cups of Aquavit into his hands, which he'd pretend to drink but just ended up pouring it down the sink. He wasn't into the whole hardcore partying scene as it overstimulated him a bit and being surrounded by intoxicated adults acting as children wasn't his idea of fun. It even disgusted him a bit to see his friends mindlessly making out with several women, one after the other, some even all at once. Despite all of his friends' drunken pleas for him to stay longer, he left early.

When it comes to being a celebrity in a competitive field, many expect for him to enjoy one-night stands and having sex with random people he'd never remember the next morning, but it just overwhelms him. The feeling of hanging out with people that only wanted a mention on his social media, no real connection, made him contort an expression of displeasure.

But, then, there was you.

Admittedly, you weren't that involved in the fandom of sports. The aggression that came with it was incredibly off-putting and even humorous to you at times. However, your friend took the trophy of the biggest soccer fan you've ever met. That's exactly how you ended up in the front row of the most anticipated match of the year, trying to ignore your irrational fear of the soccer ball flying off course and hitting you jn the face.

You didn't notice at first but as you were speaking to your friend about something completely unrelated, they showed the two of you on the Jumbotron. After a few seconds, she turned to look ahead and quickly shook your shoulder as a signal for you to do the same, when you did, you saw yourself on the obnoxiously large screen. You awkwardly smiled while chuckling to yourself, making sure to wave before they moved the camera on to someone else.

What you didn't know was that a specific team member couldn't stop staring at you as they showed you on the screen. Even after, his eyes quickly found your figure and he was done for after that. He kept his eyes on you whenever you could even as the match progressed, you noticed this but didn't mention it as you didn't want to seem self-centered.

After the game was finally over, Oskar did everything in his power to find you in the crowd of people exiting the stadium. It took far too long that he'd liked it to, but, he eventually found you. He snuck through the crowd as carefully as he could in order to not be noticed by buzzing fans and paparazzi. You turned around in surprise after you felt a strong hand on your shoulder, not expecting it to be one of the players you were previously suspicious of.

"Hi, um I just wanted to ask if I could please get your number?" Did you know a lot about sports? No. Did this random soccer player seem nice? Yes. Was he incredibly handsome? YES.

"Oh, yes, of course." You said before typing your phone number into a blank contact profile.

Your friend kept on shaking you by your shoulders and squealing about how THE Oskar Andersen basically just asked you out.

Oskar and you talked everyday from then on, he'd always ask you the most attentive questions, telling you about how his practice went, sending you voice memos throughout the day. When the two of you decided to meet up and go on a date, he wanted to make sure the first official impression of his was perfect. Oskar had taken into consideration the stuff you'd mentioned of enjoying and listed places you talked to him about wanting to see and visit.

This man looks at you as if you're the reason his day is brightened by the sun, as if you're the answer to all of his callings and questions, because to him? You are.

When the two of you are having a day out at a restaurant, he'll look at you and gently rub his index finger and thumb onto your bottom lip, then chin. Looking at you with his heavily lashed doe eyes as you try and hide yourself away as a reaction to his strong gaze of pure admiration.

Oskar is the type of guy to practically cuddle with you on a couch even when at a house party. Draping his hand over your thigh, kneading the soft and supple skin, a smile growing onto his face as he listens to you ramble on about things he knows nothing about. He absolutely loves showing you around his snow ridden hometown and introducing you to food from his culture. Walking into a warm cafe that's lit by white bullish candlesticks, serving + brewing coffee and Nordic pastries with welcoming paintings nailed to the wooden walls.

When it comes to intimacy, Oskar is quite timid about the subject. He has a pretty sturdy and strong build so he takes an extra effort to be as gentle as he can whilst the two of you are being confidential with each other. Shaky hands floating above your hips, spreading soft kisses on your anticipating body and making sure you know just how much he admires you for so much more than your body.

As I'm sure you've all seen, several soccer fans tend to be really hard on the spouses of their favorite players. Claiming their girlfriends as, "gold diggers" and "attention seekers", half of the time, their boyfriends never defend them. Oskar, on the other hand, doesn't hold back when it comes to backing you up. He'll bring up all of your accomplishments, the fact you never needed him to support you financially and he will leave the original poster absolutely humiliated with his response.

Being called out by your favorite soccer player? Surprisingly, not so fun!

He wishes so badly that someone would talk badly about you in front of him just so he could take them into a private area and make sure they're never seen by the public again. His father taught him to always respect the women around him, even if he wasn't particularly interested in them romantically.

Maybe he took his father's advice a little too far when it came to you but he really couldn't care less. He loves you so why not show it in all the ways he can?

He genuinely believes that anyone who says they wouldn't kill for those they love, don't actually love those people. Because, why do you have limits on your love?

If any of his teammates complain about him spending too much time with you, he'll quite literally corner them in a barren area of the locker room and threaten them to the point where they fear even saying your name.

"I've always known you were a jealous guy. Just because I have something you'll never be able to get doesn't mean you have to be such a sulking baby about it."

He can be a bit cruel but never towards you.

Spectators will notice the extra aggression he's showing the opposing team and that specific team member of his. He's shoving people and punching their shoulders, this could've earned him a red card but he's a bit favored due to his constant stellar performance.

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧︰ TAROT 101: developing your intuition.

Hello lovelies, welcome to the first post of my Tarot 101 series! After receiving a few questions, I decided to incorporate a series of tips and tutorials for other self-taught readers. Today, I'm answering a follower's asks sent in my DM's. I'm tackling it separately, so it makes more sense to other people to read it. PS: Since this is a major work in progress and I'm not an all-knowing, almighty entity, please provide feedback, comments or concerns you might have! Thank you.

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How you develop your intuition and psychic abilities while reading tarot?

There is not one size fits all. While many readers recommend connecting to oneself, that's just the basis of it, really, but the main concept is to look at yourself, compassionately. Without the judgment of our everyday lives and the chaos of getting things right in the first attempt. You cannot be honest with yourself (or your intuition), if self-denial is the state you're living in. Or worse: if you view the truth as punishment.

It's always going to be a journey of discovery, and the first thing about spirituality is that you need to keep an open heart to the magic. Skepticism may get you far ahead in your career or financial matters, but when it comes to intuition, you can't grasp onto logic all the time.

With tarot, it's a little more practical: learn and lean into the cards. Notice I didn't say memorize, because many of us are busy enough with our everyday schedules. Just tap into them. Look at them. What does The Lovers remind you of? Maybe it takes you to the story about the Garden of Eden. Or- maybe it reminds you of your parents, their golden youth before marrying.

Again. No judgement. Let your stream of consciousness free. A huge part of reading tarot is allowing your imagination to run wild. Although the Devil card can symbolize obsession or addiction at first, take into account the spread, the topic. The context. What is your body telling you about the images you see?

We often underestimate the symbolism behind the cards. Without considering the traditional meanings,take one card out of your deck and just look at it. What colors are prominent? What do these colors represent in modern society? Do these people look happy? Are there any people at all? Where are they? Let your mind weave a story.

As a tarot reader, what you do on daily basis for intuition and tarot reading? What practices, book, or some kind of information which help you for tarot readings?

There are many things that have helped me, personally, but I'm going to mention some of the best practices I've seen, both for myself and for others.

› Stay creative. If it means drawing, writing, or painting, then stay creative. Find whatever little (or big) ways you can express your creativity. Remember you don't have to be "good". You can just be. Creativity exists in a lot of ways.

› Engage with other readers. Observe them. You can find a tarot reader that deeply resonates with you and watch how they read. Test if it works for you. Remember this is your practice, it's your sacred space, so you don't have to follow someone else's rules.

› Read, if and when you can. I personally recommend the book "History of Tarot" by Isabelle Nadolny, but not everyone can afford books or the time to read them. There are plenty of Youtube tutorials and free guidebooks on Biddy Tarot, for example. I also love Servant of The Fates' blog. They're both different and great, reliable sources.

› Start small. You can pull one card a day. Get a journal, write its meaning (or what it means to you) and record your progress. In a few months, when you return to it, you might find it surprising.

› Let yourself not know everything. No one does. Sometimes, you'll need to pause, go back to a guidebook and read the meaning all over again. Other times, you'll look at the spread and feel nothing. That's okay too. We're not meant to know all the answers.

Is meditation really important for reading tarot? Why? How much time do you spend daily for tarot readings and spiritual practices?

Since this is more of a personal matter, I'll be talking about myself. I don't meditate as often as most readers. Three times a month, maybe? I have a busy schedule and I can only meditate before bed, if I'm not too sleepy. Many people find that meditation makes them anxious or they're not able to fully let go. Other people find it that being in silence or taking a walk is more useful to them. Relaxation and meditation come in many, many forms. The important thing is to nurture your body and soul more than to adhere to rigid rules.

However, when it comes to saving time for readings or spiritual practices, I don't set rules for myself. It never works for me.

I let it flow. Sometimes, I go weeks on end without really consuming tarot content and I bond with my decks occasionally. And other times, I'm reading daily, journaling and trying to improve my skills. Since I have a billion other things to care for, I'm not always able to prioritize tarot as much as I'd like, but the important thing is to stay passionate, stay curious and get back to it. Better late than never.

When you're getting started, let yourself try. If you get it wrong, at least you'll be one step closer to getting it right.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[mviswidow]

all's well that ends well

Maria Hill x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: A couple of months after being rejected by Maria, R gets hurt during the Battle of Sokovia and it brings them back together. Pretty angsty with some fluff at the end and plenty of best friend Nat.

Based on this request from a while back but I decided to finish it up. I would love to write for Maria more so if you have any ideas please send them my way <3

“I’m so sorry.”

Maria’s words repeated in your head every day since you bore your heart out to her.

The worst part was probably that she had never told you if she reciprocated your feelings. She’d just insisted it wouldn’t work out; it wasn’t worthwhile. You couldn’t believe what you saw between the two of you was imagined. It couldn’t have been. 

You saw her through the glass door of one of many conference rooms, sitting outside, waiting to speak to Fury while you were in your meeting with him.

You should have been happy. You had just been promoted and were going to be an Avenger, yet all you could think about was a girl who didn’t care about you enough to be honest with you.

You did your best to block Maria out of your mind for the remainder of the meeting, attempting to soak up the moment. This was the kind of thing you’d been working towards since you started at SHIELD Academy. 

You needed this. You needed a win. Having such a huge distraction would be great for you, and the opportunity to learn from a legend such as Natasha Romanoff was incredible.

You moved your belongings into the Avengers Tower during the following week. Your bedroom was right next to Natasha’s.

Per Fury’s request, Natasha trained you multiple times a week and reported back to him on your progress.

The more time you spent training with her, the better you got to know her.

Before you knew it, Natasha had become your closest friend. After feeling crushed about Maria, she was exactly what you needed in your life - someone unwavering.

Natasha knew what it was like to be alone. You did too. Maybe that was why the two of you clicked so well.

She was also very excited to have another woman in the tower. Before you it was her and the rest of the boys.

You spent most of your free time with her. She helped you heal your heart.

With some time, you no longer felt your stomach churn every time you saw Maria at work.

You were starting to feel okay.

-

You knew Natasha and Maria were friends, but it wasn’t something you really ever thought about.

You were reminded of the fact when they hugged to greet each other at Tony’s party a couple nights after you helped the Avengers obtain Loki’s scepter from Strucker. 

You stood awkwardly behind Natasha until the redhead moved on to greet another one of your colleagues and Maria’s eyes landed on you.

Anxiety bubbled up in your chest as you gave her a polite smile and a loose hug.

“Maria,” you nodded.

“Hi,” she smiled, though it didn’t nearly reach her eyes the way it used to when she spoke to you. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to congratulate you since you got promoted.”

You didn’t expect a conversation.

“You’re looking good out there.”

You could feel your cheeks turning red, “Thank you.” 

There was so much you wanted to say to her. You held your tongue, though, you would only hurt yourself.

Before either of you had a chance to say anything more, Natasha returned and began to speak to the brunette. You tuned out their conversation quickly as the only thing you could think about was how terribly you missed everything about Maria. 

After a minute, you excused yourself to the bar, promptly ordering two shots and throwing them back.

You were soon joined by Tony and Thor who you ordered drinks with to celebrate your victory. When Steve joined the three of you, you took another shot with him. It was not long before you became a little too tipsy for a work party faster than you’d realized what you’d done.

Upon noticing you hadn’t seen Natasha since you arrived at the party together, you scanned the room for red hair.

You found her sitting on a chair, listening to a conversation between a couple of people, and clumsily sat yourself on her lap, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Someone’s been busy,” she said with a smirk that turned into a smile.

“Oh yeah, I can’t say no to an open bar.”

“Obviously,” she teased and you saw a glint in her eye that made your heart pick up. “You seeing anyone lately?”

You rolled your eyes with a knowing smile, “Prying while I’m drunk, Nat? I didn’t think that was your style.”

“That’s not a no,” she pressed on.

“You’re very nosy. But no, I haven’t even thought of that since… since I joined.” You thought back to what Maria told you. “Besides, I don’t need a distraction or anything.”

“I dunno,” Natasha shrugged. “doesn’t hurt to have some fun- and seeing someone doesn’t mean you have a distraction in your life. There’s a person behind the big, strong, Avenger everyone sees. Being human doesn’t make you weak.”

Your eyes flitted to Maria who was across the room, engaged in a conversation with Steve, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, “You should tell that to her.”

Natasha’s face crinkled in confusion and she followed your line of sight, her eyes widening as she turned back to face you, “What is that supposed to mean?”

You groaned and had to stop yourself from facepalming, drinking made you loose lipped, “I’ll tell you about it sober, we’re not getting into this now.”

-

The last thing you thought you would have to do that night was fight sentient fucking robots while intoxicated. You thought you had been holding your own well enough but got knocked to the floor when a bogie hit you in the head.

Your ears rang loudly and you’d been sure the stupid piece of metal was about to kill you as you held your head in agony until you heard gunshots and it never came.

You had Maria to thank for that.

-

The next time you found yourself being thrown to the ground by a bogie was in Sokovia. You weren’t so lucky this time, you landed on a sharp piece of metal that lodged itself in your abdomen as your chin slammed into the concrete ground.

You cried out in pain as you tried to get your bearings, knowing that if you didn’t act quickly you would die. 

Searing pain coursed through your entire body as you reached to unstrap your gun from your thigh. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and mixed with dirt and the fresh blood on your chin. 

You shot the hunk of metal until it collapsed on the floor. You were grateful the lifeboats were taking people from the floating island to the helicarrier every couple of minutes and hobbled over as quickly as your body could go in this state. 

Every breath and step you took was excruciating. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to survive. 

The moment Steve laid his eyes on you, he gestured to Natasha and ran over, picking you off your feet and carrying you the rest of the distance. You let out a sob of relief when you no longer had to rely on your feet carrying you the rest of the way, not knowing how much further you would have been able to make it.

You heard him speaking over comms and vaguely caught Natasha’s response, telling him to take you onto the helicarrier for medical attention while she continued to direct people onto lifeboats.

“You’re going to be alright, okay?” Steve murmured, and you couldn’t tell if he even believed himself. 

Nonetheless, you nodded into his neck and let your eyes close.

-

You woke up in a bed with an IV attached to you. You were grateful that the lights were mostly turned off, besides a lamp in the room, keeping your eyes from hurting too much. 

Your whole body ached, your stomach especially, and you groaned restlessly.

Natasha was sitting in a chair to your right reading a book and Maria was beside her, her eyes closed. When Natasha heard you, her head snapped up from her book and she let out a sigh of relief, taking your hand. “Hey, you’re okay.”

She offered you some water and gave you medication that was left for you in case you woke up, “This should make you feel better, you’ll probably be a little drowsy soon but the pain should go away.”

“Thank you, ‘Tasha,” you smiled gratefully as best you could.

“You scared me, you know - all of us, really,” She said, her voice a little shaky. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Me too,” you chuckled.

Natasha smiled softly and cleared her throat, “I’ll come check on you again soon but I know Maria wants to talk to you.” 

She nudged the brunette awake gently, nodding in your direction, “Hey, she just woke up a couple minutes ago.”

Maria muttered a ‘thank you’ to Natasha for waking her up and moved to her previously occupied seat when she left.

“You feel okay?” she asked when the two of you alone, and you figured she was avoiding whatever it was she actually wanted to say.

“No, I was impaled, I feel like shit… Why are you here?”

Maria’s eyebrows raised for a second, caught off guard by how blunt you were being, and took a breath, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For?”

“When I rejected you. I -”

“That’s not necessary, Maria, I really don’t want to rehash this.”

She shook her head and clenched her jaw, “Please. I - I was wrong.”

You quirked a brow. That was new. It wasn’t every day Maria Hill was wrong about something. And it definitely wasn’t every day Maria Hill looked like she was about to cry.

Maria took your silence as permission to continue, “I’m in love with you. And I’m sorry you had to almost die for me to admit it. I was so afraid to let myself love you because I was terrified knowing that something like this could happen to you. But when I got the call I realized that I could die never knowing what it’s like to kiss you.” Her voice broke as she finished her sentence. She let out a breath to steady herself as a tear streaked down her face.

You reached out your hand to the edge of the bed, palm up. Maria put her hand on top of yours and you squeezed lightly.

Her breath hitched and tears welled in your eyes while you watched her lips turn downwards as she tried not to cry. “I’m so sorry,” Those words sounded different this time.

Your heart ached for her. You nodded, understanding. “I know… it’s okay.”

She swallowed and wiped her tears, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips, “Why don’t you find out what it’s like to kiss me already, hm?”

[esotericpluto]

messages from your spirit guides

from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings. Please, tip the reader here

pile 1

For you, the first message I received and quick and short. Your guides are asking you to drink water, eat healthy food, especially fruits. Wear lots of sunscreen too, as I'm hearing some of you might be prone to sun damage or sunburns.

For some of you, you should focus a bit more on your friendgroups in the next weeks, as I feel like some friends would want to have you around them and might need your help or support.

I feel like some of you might have many dreams, ambitions and goals, to the point where sometimes you don't know where to begin or multitask between them. Your guides are telling you to figure it out, as it will greatly help you in the future. For this, they highly recommend you to set a practical plan for each of your goals and focus on a fewer at a time, as it will get you further. Setting a practical goal can be simply writing it out in steps, which will help you stay motivated and track your progress. I feel like for many of you, this might also be luxury, lifestyle and finances related, in which case, I also recommend you using affirmations and meditations for abundance and to align your mindset/self-concept with your desire.

I feel like there is also a big desire to be genuine, to just be who you are and express yourself without any fears. Your guides want to tell you to stay true to yourself and just ne yourself without minding anyone's opinions about it. Whoever doesn't like you or judge you just serves no purpose in your life and their negative criticisms say more about them than it says about you. Genuine people will flock to you once you unapologetically become yourself.

Overall, it is also a great time for healing: so focus on healing old wounds, traumas, fears and insecurities. Your healing process will be heightened for the next few months and your guides will aid you in the entire process, making sure you improve and grow.

pile 2

Many of you have been working crazy hard lately, maybe even manifesting things important to you into your life. Your guides are congratulating you on the good job and seem very proud of you. I hear to keep going and persisting as most people who picked this pile will achieve their goals really soon. All it might be needed for some of you is to either let go/trust or have a final breakthrough.

For all of you thinking about starting something new in your life or taking a certain action. I'm feeling that you should definitely go ahead with it. It could also be related to the previous paragraph and be what you need to manifest it fully.

If you are into someone or trying to manifest a new job or business, try to make the first move on them. Even if it might not go perfect the first time around, 100% hold your vision and persist in your desire as you will get success. It will worl out in your favor!

Those of you planning on dying your hair any bold color, I am hearing from your guides to rethink it for a while more as it might not be something you will like a lot or feel comfortable with yet. Maybe trying out different neutral colors first would be better for you for now. However, I'm getting that you should 100% go for the haircut you are planning, if any.

I'm also getting to not stay home this summer and go hang out with your friends more often. If your friends are out of town, take yourself on a date somewhere nice and pretty and buy yourself flowers or a treat!

pile 3

I feel like some of you are being encouraged to go out and try new smoothie and fruit juice flavors, especially if you live next to the beach or similar. Enjoy this with some friends or even your partner if you have any.

If you don't have a partner, I feel like your guides are saying you might find one soon, especially if you are going on vacation soon. If you are not going on vacation soon, your guides want you to try and go, even if just for a weekend.

For many of you, you guys are insisting on something or being stubborn in a situation. If this is a manifestation/dream related situation, then your guides want you to keep persisting and believing/assuming that what you want is already yours and this will make it come true. For those of you who have been in an argument lately, I feel like this means that you might be being too stubborn and it's better to just drop it and let go, as in some cases arguing just won't solve anything. However, for all the cases in this pile, I see that having faith and knowing that what you want will happen is a common theme here.

You should also think about checking on your loved ones soon if you haven't yet and see how they are doing. I feel like some of you have loved ones going through hard times or you might yourself be going through hard times. You are safe and will be safe and get to a better situation soon enough, so will your family and friends.

Your guides also want you to know that communication is important in your connections with others, especially if you are someone who overthinks a lot or has many insecurities. If someone is doing something that is making you confused or overthink, think about bringing up to them how you are feeling and solve the situation.

Your guides are also motivating you to try and contact them when you have questions, whether by praying, meditation or simply talking out loud. They will reply to the best of their abilities. For some of you, I also hear you should start working out to have a healthier lifestyle.

[irkimatsu]

I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and  he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar. 

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

[gothicbarbie]

MY TOP 10 BEST BL COUPLES OF 2023

So I guess I'm a little late considering it's now 2024 in most places, but well, better late than never. I tried and failed to rank top 20 or even 10 kisses... I just couldn't remember them all or even choose... but most of my top couples have some pretty great kisses, so at least there's that! I can, however, rank my favorite BL pairings from 2023, so... let's do it! I will be ranking these from least favorite to favorite because I think it's more fun that way... Also I credited all the gif makers at the bottom but I did list the tumblr user for each specific gif underneath. If someone wants me to remove their gif, please let me know and I will so! I just wanted to pretty up the post a bit.

Also, to clarify, any couple on a show that is currently airing and not complete yet is not eligible to be on the list for 2023. Trust me, there were many I wanted to include!

Honorary Mentions:

Tinn & Gun | My School President

So, spoiler, a different GeminiFourth pairing will be on the actual top 10 so I didn't really want to include both pairings on the list, but I really did love the two of them in My School President. G/F just have such a wonderful and natural chemistry. The way they always look at each other just feels so pure and sweet. I really like pairings where one is secretly pining for the other, but Tinn/Gun also sorta had a hate/love ISH thing going for a little while. The progression of their relationship to actual boyfriends was just so fun to watch and really well done.

Dong Wook & Do Hyun | A Breeze of Love

I watched this BL so quickly that it didn't really resonate with me as well as some other series, which is why these two didn't make the top 10, however, I really enjoyed their relationship on the show. I love hate to love pairings and I found their backstory scenes really sweet as well. I also thought they had a really nice chemistry and there were some strong kissing moments for a kbl.

Jihan & Jaejun | City Boy Log

I didn't include these two on the main list for two reasons, one: the show is not over yet... i don't think? and two: this technically isn't a BL drama? IDK anymore, but regardless I love this series and this couple so dang much! I love the realness of them filming themselves and how their relationship is portrayed so subtly until their feelings just sort of emerge. They have some really wonderful and special scenes or moments together that we don't typically get on other series. I am anxious to see where the rest of the story goes and I hope the actors get another opportunity to work together. The side pairing is great too!

Top 10!

#10. Ai & Songkhram | Destiny Seeker

These two were so damn fun to watch, I really loved the hate to love thing at the start that quickly turned into love (Or I guess always sort of was???). The actors had such a great chemistry together and they had so many fun little moments and bantery scenes together. While the rest of the series felt a little flat for me, their connection continuously kept me interested.

#09. Ze Rui & Zong Yi | Kiseki Dear to Me

Honestly don't even know what to write about these two or how to explain why I like them, because there wasn't anything particularly special about their dynamic that typically draws me in, but I just really enjoyed the actors chemistry together and I really liked the progression of their relationship and how well they meshed together. Their kissing was extremely natural too.

#08. King & Eua | Bed Friend

Firstly, these two are HOT AF, and I really loved the friends with benefits storyline between these two, but more than that, we have a perfect character imo with King, who was continuously there for Eua and always trying to help him and make him understand how much he really cared. The show could be very dark at times but I love that King was always sort of the shining light for Eua.

#07. Segaski & Yoh | My Personal Weatherman

I can admit that the big draw to this show for me originally was the sexy scenes and moments, and while I do think the series could have done with some more scenery changes and better storylines, considering the time frame, I enjoyed watching the relationship between the two characters develop. It's nice to get a friends with benefits type of relationship and see how it progresses into more than that. And for a JBL it was nice to see some high heat with a happy ending.

#06. Su Yu & Wu Bi | Stay With Me

SIGH. THESE TWO. So I mean, I understand the criticism of this show and their relationship. So many things are implied but personally I felt like the end half made it pretty clear that these two were 100% a romantic couple. (just wish it was clarified when that change happened) But the progression of their relationship from hate to love was so beautiful to watch. Even if it was just a friendship it was worth it imo to see how close they got. Fair warning, the finale episode is not the best lmao, but I hope we get a second season to sort of fix it? Fingers crossed on that one.

#05. Wan & Ki Tae | Our Dating Sim

This was definitely one of the cutest BL's of the year and this couple falls into that category well too. I really loved seeing them re-connect. I love that they were old best friends (with feelings) that had a lot of issues to sort through and we saw some adorable flashback scenes as well as current scenes. I also love that they got together and were mostly happy instead of having a lot of intense drama.

#04. Li Ming & Heart | Moonlight Chicken

These two... so much to say about them and yet I don't really know where to start. Gemini and Fourth just work so well together and I felt like this duo was even deeper than in MSP. They started out on bad terms but quickly became close and I really loved the progression of their relationship and then I adored how we also got to see them together as a couple too. My favorite thing about them was how hard Li Ming worked to try to understand Heart and how he learned sign language for him and encouraged him to get to know others like him and to put himself out there. They also had such a fun banter with playful moments and scenes. It was just so damn pure and sweet to watch with no unnecessary or stupid fillery drama.

#03. Jae Won and Ji Hyun | The Eighth Sense

Something about this pairing just felt so much different than the typical KBL pairing. The show itself was so much deeper and had a more serious tone than we typically get, which was amazing. The actors nailed the roles and you could really feel the tension and longing between them right from the beginning. I loved their storyline so much and the actors seemed so comfortable together.

#02. Yamato & Kakeru | I Cannot Reach You

This was one of my favorite BL's of the year and their relationship was a huge part of it. I thought I was more into hate to love, but clearly, based on this list, that isn't always the case. There is something so sweet and adorable about best friends turned to lovers. I really love too when we see one side pining for the other, so this couple was extremely enjoyable to watch!

#01. Chen Yi & Ai Di | Kiseki Dear To Me

Good Lord these two... they had the perfect formula for my favorite type of pairing. Hate to love, drama, tension, angst, one-sided pining... it was so painful to have to wait every week for more. But god, it was worth the wait and their chemistry was just so good, their kisses were phenomenal too. Def. a memorable pair and a show I will be rewatching very soon!

THANK YOU to all these wonderful humans for making the most amazing gifs that I used in this post!

[insolentgod]

⚠️Attention:⚠️ very long post. It talks a little about: state of lack, take your desire off the pedestal, time it takes for a manifestation, get distracted about your manifestation , self-concept, and Cassies

one more night high and having crazy epiphanies about manifestations. and another day using a translator to translate my text to post here, because I haven't claimed to be fluent in English yet 😛 So, as I always warn, if there are possible grammatical errors, it's for this reason.

I'm here to bring you an analogy I created while discussing with a friend haha. (Yes, this time there's nothing about lana del rey!)

you know those people who humiliate themselves for others? Who do everything for someone specific to love them, try to talk to them even if it's unhealthy, or beg them to stay in their lives. (yes, it's quite depressing and sad)

i haven't been like that much in life, usually when someone didn't care about me, i cared even less about them. but I won't lie, there have been situations where I may have humiliated myself a little, but it's human.

anyway, going straight to my analogy, let's imagine that you struggling to manifest something is a friend "Cassie," and the manifestation will be her ex-boyfriend, okay? (i swear it will make sense in the end)

what I write outside the parentheses is Cassie's situation, and what's inside the parentheses is possibly the situation you're going through on your manifestation journey.

okay, you have this friend Cassie who keeps saying that her ex-boyfriend doesn't care about her, doesn't respond to messages, and shows no signs, and she's going crazy and desperate about it (just like you when you see no progress in your manifestation). so she does EVERYTHING to get him back (just like you when you try multiple methods non-stop and feel needy). and as Cassie's friend, you think, "poor cassie, she doesn't deserve to suffer like this" (and she really doesn't deserve it, just as you don't deserve to suffer for your manifestations). there are also moments when she sends a message for you saying, "I'll forget him this time, I promise." but after two days, she's there messaging him again (just like you affirm on the first day all motivated and trying to convince yourself that this time your manifestation will come true, but after a few days, you see no progress and start panicking), and then she gets very sad because she thinks they will never get back together and she will never be happy with him again (just like you think you can't manifest anything, that the universe hates you, that you will never get what you want, that the loa doesn't work). But meanwhile, there are other people out there getting back with their exes and you admire them, wondering what it would be like if it were you... (just like when you look at other people's success stories and think "why can't I do it?") spoiler: You can do it too, honey. If everyone else can do it, so can you. Wake up.

If I were Cassie's friend, I would tell her to STOP acting like that and start valuing herself and just distract herself. because let's be honest, men ALWAYS come back, right? 🤣 and many people may disagree with me on this and think that if she doesn't chase after the guy, he won't come either. but that's how it works for me, even before I started using the law. every time I started valuing myself and stopped begging for others' love, the person came to me. so let's agree with my thinking on this, okay?

and one more point that I think is worth mentioning is that if Cassie really doesn't want to do this alone, maybe a manifestation coach would be a good idea (if it were a real situation, I would suggest her to seek a therapist). There are nuances about "manifestation coaches," I honestly don't use them and I recommend working on your self-concept. but it's an option if you want, but please do thorough research and find a trustworthy one.

returning, what can you do to not be another Cassie? I'm telling you to stop doing whatever you're doing to try to achieve your desire? no. just get out of the state of neediness and desperation, like a Cassie. you don't need that, my love. you don't need to worry, "Is my manifestation coming?" You don't need to use a thousand methods because you don't think it's enough. whatever you believe will bring your desires, will indeed bring your desire. If you believe that jumping three times, building a castle, and kicking an elderly person will give you what you want, guess what? If you do all that, then you will get what you desire. and if you believe that affirming once in your life will get you a beachfront mansion, guess what? you will achieve that.

so, to not be a Cassie:

1 - trust what you're saying, please trust yourself. nnow that ONLY WHAT YOU THINK is the truth, and it will be. (my last long post talks about this exactly, I highly recommend it, okay).

2 - take your desire off the pedestal. your desire may be your biggest dream in life, I don't care. take it off the pedestal. the powerful person who can have anything they want is YOU, not your desire. tou are a thousand times greater than your desire. you don't chase after your desire, your desire chases after you. you know when manifestation coaches tell you to start manifesting just a blue butterfly or a candy? well, it's because for you, that's not difficult. It's something you find easy to manifest and know it's totally possible to have. but you can literally manifest a Porsche at the same speed as manifesting an ice cream, okay? take your desire off the pedestal; you are fully capable of having it.

3 - get out of the state of lack. In the law of assumption, some people talk a lot about states and some manifest just by being in the state of the wish fulfilled and ready, they succeed. but the state of lack is literally when you feel the lack, the absence of your desire. you don't feel like you have it or you don't feel worthy of it, so you probably fall into a spiral of despair with millions of thoughts like "what will I do if I don't achieve it?" "I don't see any progress" "time is passing and I don't have my results". Anyway,

- But what do I do to heal my state of lack?

just don't be in it 💐💐💐 yes, it's easy, okay. please believe that it's easy and it will be. I know it's very easy to affirm when you're motivated, especially after reading a success story. but motivation doesn't last forever and I don't think it's healthy for you to keep restoring your motivation by reading success stories all the time. there's nothing wrong with it, but you don't need success stories to heal. every time you feel like you're entering the state of lack, start trusting yourself. when it happens to me, I start affirming "none of this, I have my desires" "I don't care about what my 3D shows me" "I have what I want", I also imagine myself with my desire as if I really have it now. I'll admit, there are times when I start affirming this to avoid entering the state of lack and at first it feels like I'm feeling wrong, the feeling of hopelessness even. but regardless of how I feel, I keep visualizing and eventually start feeling strong and motivated again. in those moments, you have to be strong and disciplined with yourself, okay? you can do it.

4 - try not to care about time or the 3D reality. i know it's difficult, but please live in your imagination and believe that if you have it in your imagination, you have it now. about time, it depends, okay? Some people manifest in seconds because they believe they can, while others manifest in weeks because they think it takes weeks. if you're the second type of person, you can definitely manifest in seconds if you allow yourself to do so. self-concept affirmations help a lot in this aspect. Just don't worry about time in the 3D reality. If you know that in your mind you have your desire NOW, then you have it now. once you're fully living in your imagination, it will come in the 3D reality. I know it's difficult, but just trust yourself and your mind. I promise that if you live 100% in your mind, your desire can come very quickly.

5 - distract yourself! don't spend the whole day thinking about your desire. usually, the desire comes when you accept that you have it and continue living your life. I know it's complicated, especially when it's something you want, but distract yourself to avoid excessive and negative thoughts about your manifestations. and please get off tumblr for a while

6 - improve your self-concept, please. Just do that, and your manifestation journey will be much easier.

I think that's it for today. I talked a lot as always 😛😛

I usually don't respond to people asking for help here on my blog (mainly because I don't receive any requests) but if you're having problems, you can send me a message, and I'll respond ❤‍🩹 I just want to help someone like loa bloggers helped me when I needed it. good night everyone, and stay hydrated.

[girlreblogger]

also to add to my previous post, when i say blk yn go through crazy situations im exaggerating but i mean (“cause me personally!!!!!!!!!!!”) allowing the character to be treated in certain manner and be put in “awkward” positions. i also want to say that the “situations” seem unfulfilling like i wanted to say in the first place.

because of the unsavory situations she is put in she legit has to have characteristics that are straight up unnecessary if the wellbeing of her character was prevalent. and i have to say that because of blk yn stories that it applies to. (and no ian talking abt how ppl be complaining abt yn being “ghetto” 😒)

drama, comfort, or for fun, is cool and dandy but it’s the same type of thing and i’m not tryna come for the plug stories like don’t nbgaf like omg i’m so tired of hearing bout them freaking stories.

to the ppl who still decide to ignore how damaging fr CERTAIN! blk yn fics y’all remind me of the ppl who support tyler perry movies simply because it’s for entertainment and “he’s telling a story” (that not everyone has)

yep. those things are true but an impact worse than good is being produced. like bffr.

and i feel conflicted by even saying that because some ppl obviously genuinely relate or find comfort in those stories but at what cost. like is comfort worth change and progression?

me rn:

some ppl just really don’t gaf and don’t care to want better. please don’t let the ppl who don’t gaf sway you. for the ppl who do, reblog nice fics or write. blow them up so other blk girls can find them. we deserve it.

there are so many blk fics where yn is not going through those things and if there is “drama” is solved or there’s a healthy resolve. (there’s so many blk writers who need to be publishing books fuck tumblr or ao3 and tryna get reblogs. with all that talent girl MAKE SOME MONEYYYY! YALL STUFF BE GOOD.)

i’m dead serious. why haven’t you thought abt it.

but yeah. it is what it is we have to put more work in to change as people in general. but i really just want my ppl to grow. ppl find comfort in fics for a reason. i really think a good balance of what everyone is looking for and needs should be found. i know ppl gonna feel like ppl telling them what to do but they prolly the ones who don’t want the change for wtv.. reason… ahem..

ppl feeling hit by what i said:

there’s obviously a problem and as a ppl! why can’t we just fix it. like at least try.

side note:

there’s so many ways to get drama. also the smut after arguing piss me off this is off topic cause it applies to a lot of ppl who make fics but like damn. y’all ain’t gon talk it out. and it be the most weird arguments and stuff and you wanna squeeze lemons after that???

idk that annoys me like everyyyy time? and i think smut after arguments can be well written but ….

anyways the blk ff community to damn big for us to be sitting here starving acting like we don’t have food in the refrigerator to make something.

get it together yall. youn want what’s in the refrigerator go get your keys and buy something.

i’m tired of this shit that’s why so many blk writers stop writing or ppl stop reading because it’s too much going on all for some damn fake characters we wanna imagine ourselves with.

and i know for some ppl it’s abt the followers and all that which i mean to each is own i mean

sigh i was tryna be proper and cordial but i really want better for us but it’s so many ppl who go too far or do too little. and some are so sheep that they go with someone else’s opinion too. you know you tired of all the toxic fics say sumn. you know you tired of ppl constantly bringing up yn being ghetto for no reason (that shit piss me off so bad i can’t. they be so close but so farr) say sumn.

me after thinking someone finna bring up how unnecessary struggle love/toxic/extra smutty blk fics are but they end up just complaining abt yn using aave:

anyways i’m ranting. i wanted to say what i felt.

muah

[nottapossum]

itty Bitty Sinners 4.1: Soap🧼

Possum: Tw: Implied childhood trauma, keeping secrets.

Lmk if I should add.

'Think I just remembered something.

I think I left the faucet running

Now my words are filling up the tub

Darling, you're just soaking in it

But I know you'll get out the minute

You notice all your fingers pruning up

I'm tired of being careful, gentle

Trying to keep the water warm

Let me under your skin

Uh-oh, there it goes

I said too much, it overflowed

Why do I always spill?' ~Soap, Melanie Martinez ♥️ 

~~~Vox: That night: ~~~

It was late, really late. But, Vox really needed to get at least some of this done before tomorrow.

No one would care if he didn't, not really, but he refused to let himself get behind on work.

Valentino walked into the room grunting exaggeratedly as he sat down beside Vox.

“Hey.” Vox greets, not even turning to look at him.

“Ughhhh!!!” Was the only response Vox got back.

“How is she?” Vox asks him, still going through some paperwork, the blue lights of the screens above him illuminating the room.

“She's fine. Woke up and wanted to play, so we had a dance party. She played on her ipad while I fixed her hair for the night, she ate food that kitty made for her, and after an hour of screaming and crying, I finally got her to go to sleep.” Val explains. “You really shouldn't let her sleep so late in the day, you know how she gets when she's like this.”

“Yeah, I know. She kinda just passed out, I couldn't stop it.” Vox explains.

Val hums. “Well, anyway. Kitty is watching her now. So, we won't have any more problems tonight.”

Vox wouldn't exactly call watching Velvette a problem. Actually he never would, anyday. It would be incredibly rude considering how many times she had watched him when he's in a little headspace. “Any idea what happened?” Vox asks Val.

“No, she didn't want to talk to me either.” Val says.

“Something must have happened. Usually she's so good at taking a break when she needs it.” Vox says, thinking out loud.

“Personally, I don't understand you and Velvette's insistence on acting like children when you're upset.” Valentino says. “It doesn't solve your problems, does it?”

“Oh, like you don't regress just as often as she does?” Vox mocks.

Valentino huffs. “How many times do I have to tell you, I do not regress?” Val asks.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I'm literally the one who takes care of you when you do?!” Vox asks loudly.

“Please.” Val rolls his eyes. “Someone like me, acting like a child? Nonsense.”

Vox rolls his eyes too. “More like a deranged moth creature- oh wait, that's just everyday you. Nevermind.”

Valentino scoffs, curling his hand like a rich old woman. “Whatever, I'm going to bed.” Val gets up and starts walking away. “If you know what's good for you, you'll do the same.”

Vox rolls his eyes again.

But, Val is right, he should sleep…

But he'll sleep in twenty or forty minutes.

He's got to finish this.

It'll be fine.

~~~Charlie and Pentious:~~~

Pentious has been making good progress! Sure, he hasn't actually regressed yet, but he's at least willing to take a break from building and scheming to play Legos and watch some cartoons.

(Yesterday Charlie showed him Treasure planet, now it's all he can talk about!)

She's been writing notes, it helps her keep track of Pentious's progress.

He's doing so well, he'll get redeemed in no time!

Charlie was at her desk, trying to come up with some new ideas for Angel. He doesn't want to take the test, she can't help him with work, and he doesn't always participate in the trust exercises…

So…uhm.

She has to find something that Angel will actually enjoy and pay attention to…

What does Angel like…

Her eyes widen and she gets disturbed just thinking about it.

She'll have to think of something.

There was suddenly a small knock on the door. “Come in.” She answers.

The door creaks as her friend slivers in slowly and cautiously.

“Hi Pen!” Charlie greets enthusiastically. “How's it going?”

He doesn't answer and she looks up at the clock, realizing she was running behind on time. “Oh shoot, I'm sorry, I didn't realize what time it was.” She says, putting away her papers. Time for her and Pentious's little session.

“That's alright.” Pentious says. “I- I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course! What is it?” She asks.

“I-” Pentious hugs himself, unsure how to say this.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Charlie asks.

“It's just- I’m sorry that…m’ no good at it.” He mumbles.

“What?” She asks.

“Regressing! I'm not good at it!” He says again. “I can't do it properly. I'll never be good at it!” He crosses his arms sadly, shrinking into himself.

“Pen,” Charlie stands up from her desk. “What are you talking about? Regression isn't something you can be good or bad at.” Charlie says. “It's just supposed to be fun and relaxing.”

“But, if I can't do it properly, what will you think of me?” Pentious asks. “You have to prove redemption works, and I'm failing you.”

“You are not failing me.” Charlie explains. “First of all, I will always think the best of you, because you are a great person.” She says.

Pentious shrugs…he doesn't think he can agree with her. If he was a great person, he wouldn't be in hell.

“And secondly, there is no right way to regress, because there's no right way to be a kid. This is supposed to be fun for you, not a pass or fail scenario.” She explains.

“Really?” Pen asks.

“Of course.” Charlie holds his shoulders and turns him to face her. “For example, some littles don't regress so much as they Age dream."

"Whats that?"

"They pretend to be a kid and have fun playing with toys and cartoons without mentally regressing to a kids mindset. It's just as valid a coping method and it can help just as much.”

Pentious hummed in response to that. "So, it's okay if I don't actually regress?" He asks.

Charlie takes his hands. "Of course it is. No matter how it works for you, no matter what you need to do to relax. I promise, it's gonna be okay.”

Pentious nods. “Okay, if you say so. Can I ask you a question?" He asks.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

“If childhood wasn't good for me the first time, why would I want to try it again?” He asks.

Charlie's eyes widened at the question…

“Well,” She takes a deep breath. “Your childhood was supposed to be good. And because it wasn't, you have an unhealed childhood. Your brain is trying to go back to cope the only way it knows how.”

Pentious looks at her with confusion.

“Allowing yourself to be a kid again and letting yourself be vulnerable, it's like you're healing the child that went through all that, as well as the adult that has to deal with it now.”

“Does it help you?” Pentious asks.

Charlie nods. “Yeah, it does. I mean, I still have issues, it doesn't solve everything. But it helps me feel better when I'm stressed out. My self esteem improved a lot once Vaggy started taking care of me. And, I even feel like the kid inside me, who needed her parents…she feels like she has someone now who's willing to give her what she needs without…leaving her.” Charlie holds her arms with her hands.

Pentious is starting to realize that there was a lot about his own childhood he never processed…

But…he's not sure he wants to go there yet…

Maybe it's best he just focuses on the childhood he could have, and not the one he didn't.

“Can we play with Legos now?” Pentious asks.

“Of course we can.” Charlie smiles.

~~~Alastor and Niffty:~~~

Alastor walked downstairs from his tower to check in on the hotel.

He wasn't really one to engage in their antics or their friendly feely exercises (or whatever Charlie called it). But he did enjoy watching their antics, they're actually quite charming and entertaining to be around.

Suddenly he hears the pitter patter of small feet. Alastor looks and sees Niffty carrying a few pillows and blankets from the bedrooms and heading to her own.

Usually, he wouldn't question it. But, it was his job to take care of this place, so….

“Niffty dear?” Alastor asks, stopping her in her tracks, literally moving his microphone in front of her.

“Hmm?” Niffty stops what she's doing to look up at Alastor.

“What are you doing?” He asks, smiling.

The small one looks at him with the biggest eyes. “Uhmmmz…needed more.” She says.

“Needed more what?” Alastor asks.

She shrugs. “Softs.”

Alastor raises an eyebrow. “For?”

Niffty smiles and cackles like a tiny little maniac. “Tunnel!”

Alastor hums understandingly. “Ah, yes. Tunnel.” he nods. “That makes sense. But, I doubt the rest of the hotel members will be very understanding of you stealing their comforters. If you needed more, you could have just asked.” He says.

Niffty sighs. “Okay, can I pleasw have soft stuff for my tunnel?” She asks, crossing her arms in annoyance that she has to ask at all. What's wrong with stealing if it's for something important?

“Very well, but you must return the others' stuff back.” Alastor says.

Niffty stomps her foot. “Fiiiiineee!”

“Thank you.” He says.

She gathers up all the blankets, pillows, and sheets and starts to return them to their respective rooms.

A pink and gray baby blanket fell to the flooe in front of Alastor, on it were some embroidered pigs.

Didn't take a genius to figure out who it belonged to.

“Interesting.” He says, picking up the soft blanket.

Angel had walked up the stairs at that moment, and his face was showing very obvious signs of discomfort when he noticed what Alastor had.

“Angel.” Alastor smiles at him. “Is this yours?”

Angel snatched the blanket from him. “Where did you find this?”

“Niffty had it, but it's being dealt with.” He says. “She has some issues with boundaries as you should know by now.”

Angel’s breathing became heavier, honestly he's so dramatic.

“Relax, Angel. It wouldn’t benefit me in the slightest to tell anyone about this.” Alastor says. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“There's nothing to tell anyone.” Angel growls.

Alastor chuckles. “If you say so.”

“I did it, Alastor!” Niffty announces.

“Well done, my dear.” Alastor says. “We'd better be off, nice to see you, Angel.” He says, leaving with Niffty to her room to help with her tunnel.

“Now do I get the blankets please?” Niffty asks once Alastor closes the door.

“Very well, ma petite souris.” Alastor answers, summoning some blankets and pillows for her.

“Yay!!” She squeaks happily.

Alastor was prepared for that to be the end of the conversation, but as he turned to leave, Niffty appeared in front of him again.

“Will you help me with my tunnel, Alastor?” She asks.

Alastor raises an eyebrow.

“Please?!” She begs.

Alastor considers it for a moment. “Well, I suppose I could help you with it.” He says. He had nothing too important going on, and it seemed like Niffty really needed some company.

She shouted gleefully and led him to her room where her tunnel was being constructed.

Really it was a typical blanket fort, it was just longer with short rooms in between. Honestly, very well constructed for her headspace.

Niffty instructed Alastor on how she wanted the tunnel to look. Shad made a colored pencil drawing as a reference so he knew exactly what she expected

“I see.” He says.

“But, don't use magic!” Niffty says. “It ruins the fun. Except when we need more stuff for building! Or if we need cheese!”

“I will restrain myself.” Alastor promised.

And so they started construction, Alastor only used his magic to summon some tables for the long tunnel-like areas, and to summon more sheets for Niffty. Everything else he helped her build by hand.

“Yay! Tunnel!” She squeaks once it's done. “I LOVE IT!” She laughs maniacally.

“It does look quite cozy.” Alastor says.

“Come on!” Niffty grabs Alastor's hand, and she leads him through the tunnel until they reach one of the rooms.

“This is my special place.” Niffty says. This specific area of her tunnel was illuminated by a small blue firefly nightlight.

“My, this is lovely.” Alastor says.

She sits down next to him. “I am the only one allowed in this place, because it's too special for most everyone else.” She explains. “But, you can come and hide here if you want, it’s nice to have somewhere to hide.

Alastor hums. “Thank you, Niffty. That's very kind.”

“I like hiding, but if I'm hiding here and someone in the hotel finds me, that would be okay.” she says. “It's actually nice to hide someplace without worrying about who might find you.” She admits.

Alastor turns to her and frowns for a moment…it seemed as though he actually understood what she meant by that…

Knowing Niffty, she could have meant anything by it-

But Alastor felt as if he truly understood it…

Perhaps too well.

‘Honey, please. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for all of this-’

The memory of that dreadful day echoes in his mind.

A loud slap is heard, which causes him to jump viciously in his hiding place.

‘You better deal with that little abomination of yours, and he'd better pray I don't find him!’ A warning to his mother was given.

‘Yes, sir. It won't happen again.’ She promised.

‘It better fucking not.’ He growled.

“Alastor?” Niffty shakes his arm.

His smile returned as fast as it disappeared, he shakes his head as if it could erase the memory in its entirety. “I couldn't agree more, my dear.” He says to Niffty.

“I couldn't agree more.”

~~~Angel:~~~

Angel closes the door to his room.

He rubs his face with his beloved blanket to try and calm down.

They can't know!

They can't!

No one can know!

Ugh! Damn it, Niffty!

Alastor may not tell anyone…

But he's literally the last person here he'd tell about this.

He has to make sure no one else finds out!

But what?

He pulls out his phone and makes a call.

“Hey, bitch!” a loud voice answers, shouting with glee.

“Hey, Cher. How's it going?” Angel asks.

“Me? You sound like a wreck! What happened this time?” Cherri asks.

“Nothing, I'm fine.” Angel says.

“I am not playing this game with you tonight, Angie.” She says. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Okay, Okay. It’s just- do you know about those classification tests the hellborn take?” Angel asks her.

“Everybody knows about those.” Charri laughs, moving to a more quiet area outside the club she was in.

“Well, Charlie thinks that knowing our classification will help us get redeemed. And- it got me thinking and…I didn't take the test but everyone else did.

“What's the big deal?” Cherri asks. “You act like a baby all the time.”

“Oh, like you don't?” Angel asks.

“Not as bad as you do.” She says. “At least I can take care of myself when I'm small.”

“Oh sure.” Angel rolls his eyes.

“I guess I get it.” Cherri says. “I mean, even though I'm totally fine on my own…all the time. I don't think I could trust anyone enough to tell them about it- you know, except you- because I did.” She says.

Angel smiles.

“What if you exposed everyone else?” Cherri suggests.

“What?”

“Reveal everyone else's classifications, they'll all be so focused and humiliated that no one will even care about yours.” She says.

“I can't do that.” Angel argues.

“You can, just make sure no one else knows who did it.” Cherri explains. “Simple.”

Angel shakes his head. “Thanks for the idea, but I think I'll pass. These people are my friends, I can't just…” He sighs again.

“Angie?” She asks.

“Let's just talk about something else. How have you been doing?”

“Fine.” She says. “Living my best life.”

Angel sits on the bed and wraps himself in his blanket. It's so soft. “Yeah…”

“How's Val?” Cherri asks.

“Same old asshole.” He answers. “Tried working me to death for three days.”

“I'd jump at the opportunity to stab that guy a few thousand times.” Cherri says.

Angel nods. “If you ever get that opportunity, I at least gotta get a few hundred stabs in.” Angel says.

“Promise.” She says. Her voice becomes serious. “Angie, I thought you were doing okay there. I mean, you've moved out of the V’s stupid torture chamber, you made a connection with your weird drunk bartender friend…and adopted a snake.”

“Just because I'm doing better, doesn't mean I'm okay.” Angel says.

Cherri nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.” She says. “I just…I can always hope.”

Angel honestly wishes he could hope half as much.

“Look, I have to go, this guy has been giving me a look all night. I'm going to blow up his head.” She says. “Talk to you later.” She hangs up.

Angel sighs and sets the phone down.

What the hell is he going to do?

'I feel it coming out my throat

Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap

God, I wish I never spoke

Now I gotta wash my mouth out with soap.' ~Melanie Martinez.

Possum: Hey-o! I'm aliiiveeeee!!!!!

This chapter took a bit. I decided Niffty deserved a more active plot. She deserves the world!!!! I love herrrrr!!!!

Sorry it took so long, hopefully the next won't be as bad lol

First few chapters is mostly set up unfortunately. But it'll get better, I promise.

@todayimfour

@trophyxtissues2

@babiegurlmuffin

[misc-obeyme]

Hi, love your work! Could I please request a headcanon with SatanxMC, author’s choice?

Hi there, anon! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!

Okay, so uh, since it was author's choice, I thought I'd do a little hurt/comfort. And oh man, I was in a mood 'cause MC is really going through it in this one. But the thing is, I really feel like Satan in particular would be like this. He's actually really good at balancing himself in a way none of his brothers are at all. (When he's not enraged that is.) And I think that gives him a different perspective on an MC who was deliberately suppressing their feelings. Anyway, hopefully it turned out okay!

Thanks for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

It's another long day. And something inside you mumbles quietly of sadness - a constant hum that you had tuned out long ago. You have no reason to feel anything but a sense of progress and contentment along with the inevitable knowledge that there was always more to be done. You don't have time to focus on anything else.

Satan learns your patterns the first time he sees them in action. Perhaps it's the way you isolate yourself or maybe it's the strained sound of your voice. He notices when all you ever do is give your energy, passion, and love away. He watches it deplete you.

It takes some trial and error, but Satan figures out when it's all too much. He had to learn fast when he found himself unceremoniously ripped into existence, fully formed and full of rage. He knows how to adapt quickly. He knows how emotions that feel like they don't belong to you can be so overwhelming that there isn’t space for anything else.

Satan knows that you would never say it out loud, not to anyone. He sees that low melancholy in your eyes no matter how hard you try to hide it behind your smile. You don't want anyone to know, but you desperately want someone to see it, too. And he does. He always does.

He might start out with shooing his brothers away from you. Giving them glaring looks if they become too demanding. He can’t act as though he isn't also guilty of wanting your attention, your love, your friendship. He knows you like it that way because it helps you avoid the truth of your heart. It's easy to push yourself aside when others need you. He watches you bury yourself in the wants and desires of him and his brothers. Like your own don’t matter. Like your comfort is secondary to theirs.

Satan is going to ask you about it directly. It hurts. It hurts you both to talk about it and by the end you’ve both succumbed to tears. He knows you can’t hold it in forever. He knows you can’t pretend you’re okay for the rest of your life. It doesn’t work like that and he won’t watch you crash and burn. He’s been there too many times himself. That’s why he forces himself to ask you. He calls you out when you lie or somehow downplay your feelings. Don’t hold out on him, MC. Please.

Satan’s heart breaks as he watches your eyes fill with tears the minute he asks you why you’ve been sad lately. He knows this is what he needs to do for you, but he hates watching you in pain. You reluctantly start to talk to him and every word seems to be cutting you open. Every word becomes an arrow through his heart. And he realizes he’s able to stand it, able to hold this hurt, because he can also see it healing you.

Didn’t you heal him, too? Didn’t you calm his wrath in a way no one else ever could? Isn’t it the least he could do to make room for your sadness? Isn’t it the least he could do to hold it for you, just for a little while? He would take it all if he could. He would protect you from every feeling that wasn’t happiness or joy or love.

He can’t, so instead he holds you. He hates the way you shudder in his arms, like your body can’t contain the heaviness of your own heart. But he keeps you close to him, buries his hand in your hair, kisses your cheeks softly, his lips wet with your tears. He runs his fingertips down your back, he tightens his arms around your torso. He lets you stay that way as long as you want. He’ll hold you against his chest all night if you cry yourself to sleep there.

When morning comes, Satan is floored by the bright relief he sees in your eyes. For so long, you kept quiet and he watched you fade. All it took was someone to ask you, someone to listen, someone to be there to witness you pour everything out of your soul and into the night. Now you’re radiant again and beside that a gratefulness, a tenderness, a bond between you of a shared secret hurt that no one else has ever seen. You have carried him in his anger and he will always hold you through your pain.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

call me cute and feed me sugar

when I see myself, I always know where you are

I'm all yours but you're all mine

a fake cryptid and a real romantic

when you don't believe, that's why you fail

Well, I did "think pink" last week, so it's only appropriate to do all the other DC WIPs I've got going on AO3 this week, right? There's five of them right now, it's just natural! Can't be helped! Totally has to be done!

And just to remind you all, I’m totally cool with people requesting multiple WIPs, but I’d prefer if you sent them in multiple asks! Just a little easier for me that way.

snippet from “call me cute and feed me sugar”:

Tim is pretty sure the date went well, since Kon seemed to enjoy playing with the sensory exhibits, cleaned his plate at the restaurant and finished Tim’s own entrée before going back for dessert, and spent half of the planetarium show star-dazzled and the other half of it making out with him in the back row, and then gave him a goodbye kiss he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from. Like, that seems like a successful date? Or reasonably successful, anyway. 

Planning ahead with a side of psychological analysis has once again paid off, Tim is pleased to note. Definitely worth making the fake IDs. 

Tim snuck way too many pictures, probably, but it’s whatever. Kon didn’t seem to mind, the times he’d caught him. Now he’s gone and set a standard, though, so he’s not sure what he should do for their next date. He’s got to plan it, obviously; he can’t expect Kon to. 

Tim is in his room and already three layers deep into the corkboard he’s planning date options and gift ideas and “is Kon getting enough calories?” math on when Kon texts him, and he stops in the middle of listing the pros and cons of a smart watch as a second-date present to read it. 

He may or may not have given Kon his own text alert and ringtone, but that’s his own damn business.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

Woodsmoke

masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader. No physical descriptions of reader beyond having hair. Reader has a cat. Established but new-ish, implied long-distance-ish relationship.

Summary: Life has been running you ragged lately, but someone is waiting for you when you get home. For a moment, you don't have to be strong.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of difficult family life, attending therapy, absent parents, wounded inner child, loneliness as a general theme. If I've missed anything, please do tell me.

Word Count: ~1.6K

Rating: General? Two curse words and some kissin'. The remainder of my work is 18+ / minors DNI.

A/N: I do not know about y'all but I have been going through it lately. And Frankie Morales is my comfort character. This is not along the lines of my usual writing, and for that reason, I haven't tagged anyone. But I'm sharing it on the off chance that you, like me, just need a hug. I know this time of year isn't the easiest for a lot of us, and I hope maybe this gives you a little comfort. Comfort!Frankie, if you will. Please heed the warnings and read with care.

You are worthy of love.

You don’t have time to cry.

Not right now, on this highway, snowflakes flying towards you like crystalline stars at a speed twenty miles per hour slower than the speed you’d be moving at if they weren’t.

You can’t see the lines on the road even without tears in your eyes.

One thing at a time.

Like everything lately.

Just follow the tracks of the car in front of you until it gets you home.

Home to your house that’s empty save for a grumpy tabby cat.

Most days you swear your existence hinges on his.

He’s been your thing to look forward to for the last fifteen years.

Well, and Frankie is visiting this week. 

Provided that this storm doesn’t shut the airport down.

Fuck.

It’s not that you hadn’t been doing well without him. 

It’s that you hadn’t been doing well.

Too long without a mental break. Exhaustion that seeps with the cold into your bones.

Too many things on a to-do list that you can’t bring yourself to do on the weekends because it’s too long and your own time is so short.

Maybe it’s some malefic arrangement of stars and planets, perhaps.

You haven’t even started buying holiday gifts. 

And it sends you face-first into the dread of making a trip back home.

The place that was supposed to be your home.

And dread is the correct word, even if your therapist says you're making real progress. 

See, the thing is, your therapist doesn’t have to sit in the contents of the box of shit you dug out from the corner of your brain and emptied all over the floor of your mind.

She only helps you sort through it every other Tuesday.

It was in the box for a reason.

It was easier to carry that way.

_____

When finally you pull into your driveway and step out into fresh snow, it’s the smell that hits you first.

Woodsmoke.

Someone has started up the wood stove so that you don’t go cold, but you hadn’t been expecting company. You figure it’s your best friend who has a key and a standing invitation, and you’re not necessarily opposed to them being here. 

Sharing a bottle of wine would probably do you some good.

You stomp snow from your shoes and step inside to offer your layers to the hooks on the wall of the mudroom before you catch sight of the boots in the tray as you toe yours off.

“Frankie?!”

“One sec, babe!”

Frankie.

You wrench open the door that leads through to the kitchen and catch sight of him in front of the sink where he’s draining steaming water from a pot of pasta.

He looks up at you across the kitchen and winks.

“Frankie,” you breathe and he quickly pops the pot back onto a dead burner, slinging oven mitts off a fraction of a second before you collide with his chest.

“Baby,” he whispers, locking you in with an arm around the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck. 

He smells of woodsmoke and cedar and Frankie.

Smells like home.

“You weren’t supposed to be here for another two days,” you pull back and look up into brown eyes framed by mirth-filled creases.

“I was keeping an eye on the weather,” he urges you against him again to nuzzle into your hair, “didn’t want to wait. There’s another front coming behind this one. Took an Uber from the airport. Got in about an hour ago.”

Pilots and their forecasts.

“I’m glad you didn’t wait.”

“So am I,” he tilts your chin up and presses his lips to yours. Soft and sweet. Perfect.

“I made pasta, thought you’d be hungry when you got in.” He grins against your mouth before turning back to the stove to stir tomato sauce. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, but there’s plenty for tonight.” Frankie turns off the burner.

And it’s so new, having a man in your kitchen. 

Making you dinner.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I haven’t had the chance to go to the store,” you rake a hand through your hair as he winds a corkscrew into a bottle of wine.

So new, having arms to fall into.

“Don't apologize, babe. We’ll go tomorrow,” he sneaks another kiss as he fills your glass, one hand absently rubbing your back as he does. “Oh, I also fed the cat,” he points to stacked tins of cat food near the fridge, “from that, hope that was okay,” he fills his own glass. “He was hungry and he was insisting on spaghetti but I figured that’s not…”

“Thank you.”

It’s not more than a trembling whisper.

Because you’re fighting back tears.

This man warmed your house and poured you wine and fed your cat and made you a meal.

Because he cares.

Someone cares.

For you.

“Oh, hey no no no, cariño, what’s wrong?” He replaces his glass on the counter and cups your face in one massive palm.

Soothing with a gentle thumb over your cheekbone.

“This is so nice,” you breathe and the tears finally blur his face. “I just—no one has ever done this for me before.” 

It leaves your mouth slowly, like you're not even sure if you can say it.

If you're allowed.

Your view is quickly replaced by the grey and red of his sweater.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do, baby.”

And it makes your chest heave with the sobs you can’t hold in any longer as you wrap your arms around his waist, sinking into the way he presses you tighter against his heart.

The wool of his jumper eager to collect all of the tears you haven’t had time to cry. 

Because time stands still here, wrapped tight in his embrace.

And Francisco isn’t afraid of your mess.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

He doesn’t ask.

Instead, he tiptoes around the debris of that box to where you weep in the center of the chaos.

To where the child sits with hot tears streaming down their face.

And he looks straight into the heart of you with eyes as soft as the toy you clutch to your chest for comfort.

And offers himself instead.

He offers the breadth of his chest and the strong panes of his back. The vice grip of his arms and the gentle soothing of a palm.

He offers his whole self.

In the stead of the affection you were never given and so learned too well to do without.

In the stead of the wire-framed mother.

In the stead of the shell that should have been a father.

In the stead of all of the unkind words you clung to in the belief that they must be true.

For why else would they not love a child in the way that a child needs love?

For why else were you left lonely for so long?

And the back of your throat goes sore with the burn of his kindness.

Kindness that you still don’t believe you deserve.

“Put it down, baby. Let it go.”

Where Life asked you to soothe yourself.

“I’m here.”

Life offers him to you now. 

For Life, it seems, has taken pity on you.

Or perhaps It grew weary of how your grief made It ache.

“I’m here now.”

And so It proffered this apology.

One that you accept in the form of skin and muscle. Bones and blood.

A soft-hearted one with big kind eyes.

And Frankie holds you until the sobbing eases.

And thumbs the tears from your lashes.

Plush lips soften into a crooked smile.

"Are you hungry, cariño?" Whispered softly.

"Yeah," you murmur because you suppose you are.

"Can we sit by the wood stove?" He turns you towards the living room and lays a kiss at the crown of your head.

"Yeah, yeah of course."

"Good, because it's fucking freezing." And that finally pulls a laugh from your throat. "Go on," he smacks you lightly on the bum, "I'll bring you a plate."

You grab both glasses of wine and toss a few throw pillows on the floor before Frankie settles next to you with two shallow bowls heaped with pasta.

_____

When you've finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table, cat napping on a throw pillow near the pair of you, Frankie sits back against the sofa and pulls you to sit at his side.

"I'm sorry that I..."

"No," Frankie cuts you off and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Don't ever apologize to me for feeling, baby."

And you stare down into the dregs of your wine.

"Promise," he prompts with a nudge of his arm.

You look up at him through tired, but grateful eyes. "I promise, Frankie."

"Good," and he kisses you slowly, all warm lips and soft moans.

He regales you with stories from his latest trip until you settle in against him, head tucked under his chin. Lulled by the rise and fall of his breath.

You let him hold you here, with one arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Safe by the gentle heat of a dying fire.

You'll be yourself again tomorrow.

But tonight you allow yourself this.

Frankie kisses into your hairline as you drift between this word and sleep. Your weight against him is soothing as he finishes the last of the wine, eyes trained on the windows beyond, tracking the path of snowflakes on their way to meet the earth again.

"Te comprendo, cariño," he murmurs, resting his cheek against your crown.

"Y creo que te amo."

[nyrasbloodyclover]

parallel lines (canon!aemond x modern!reader)

a/n: i couldn't come up with how aemond ended up in our world, but i didn't want to use standard stuff like the multiverse or idk (you get what i'm trying to say, i am too lazy, basically)

also, this was soooo fun to write please someone request part two

Aemond was not of this world, that was very much visible. His clothes (that suited him very much) completely stood out from the things people normally wore now,his hair was beautiful but unusual, platinum blond, almost reaching his waist, and the sapphire eye that replaced his lost one looked perfect on him.

Long story short, he didn't belong here. His world was of dragons and family dynasties. But, since he was stuck here (for god knows how long) I got to show him the beauty of the modern age.

"What can you even do here? Everything looks the same," he said, thinking of my street and all of the houses. He didn't like that they were built beside each other.

"The beauty of architecture is gone, as far as I can see. You claim to be making a progress and talking about future, but if your society continues to exist like this, it's going to ruin itself."

"Aemond, please don't rain on my parade right now. It's so much fun showing you all the new things in my world since I know everything about yours."

He furrowed his brows, "What parade?"

I smiled for myself. "Nevermind. Do you think Aegon is a nihilist?"

"Your philosophy makes no sense to me. And I think the whole concept of your so-called nihilism is very much stupid. How can you say that you are a nihilist if there is nothing and you believe that nothing really exists? If belief doesn't exist, how can you believe—"

"Please stop and follow me." My head started to hurt from his many many MANY arguments about everything.

"What is this? You know I already told you I don't like your room. Why do you decorate your walls with these gruesome pictures?"

"It's not gruesome, I already told you—"

"And why is there a picture of my brother beside your bed? How does it look so realistic? Are you a witch?" he said with wide eye. I didn't explain to him how printer works yet.

"Stop being so dramatic. I wanted to say— I already told you I keep photos of my favorite TV shows on my walls. Your brother is there because he's very much my type." Not that I am Team Green. Nyra for the win.

"You want him as a husband?" He asked like it was the most impossible thing someone could say.

"Something like that..." It was different speaking about fictional characters you like with your friends than with said character's BROTHER. I could say the most unhinged things with my best friend but I had to restrain myself in front of him.

Aemond was smart, he quickly grasped the whole concept of the modern era. And he was well read too. So when he told me he was bored, an idea came to me.

"Here," I took his hand and led him to the corner of my room where I kept all my books. The large shelf made him smile. He probably had way bigger library at his home, but this'll do for now.

I was happy that he liked my idea. "Can I?" He gestured towards my books. I nodded, as exited as he was.

"Why are they so colorful?" He frowned. I wasn't sure if there were many romance novels in Westeros. Or fantasy. What even was fantasy to them? Guns and women's rights, probably.

"I have classics too. They aren't so colorful," I picked a couple from the bottom of my shelf. "They could help you understand our world better."

I handed them to Aemond, his gaze hypnotized. He probably read most of the books in Westeros, that they bored him. This was something new, something he hadn't seen before.

"Who is Dorian Gray?" I heard him ask. My smile grew wider.

"He sold his soul to the devil for eternal beauty. But his sins began to show on his portrait, representing his cursed soul."

"I think my mother would've liked this."

"Maybe, but look at this one." I showed him my favorite. Frankenstein. "I think you should just read it and tell me what do you think."

After a couple of hours, a whole season of The Walking Dead, and five diet cokes, he finished reading my favorite book. Then the discussion began.

"So what you are saying is that the Creature's actions are justified because Frankenstein is the real monster?"

"Yes. Exactly. Frankenstein made something—Someone and refused to take responsibility. The Creature wouldn't have done all of that if Victor showed him some love. Like a parent. Murder is obviously wrong, but Frankenstein abandoned the Creature. And it yearned for love. Things would've turned out differently if Frankenstein had been there for his creation."

"I still don't agree. Just because our parents don't give us love doesn't mean we get the right to go around and murder people."

I almost wanted to laugh. "You're the one to talk."

He turned his head, almost breaking his neck, "Excuse me?"

"Oh don't play all nice right now. You killed Luke! And for what?" I said, accusingly.

"It was an accident!"

I think we argued until 4am. We couldn't sleep even then, so I switched genres. It was a bad idea.

"Give me that! You're certainly not reading Penelope Douglas!" I chased him around the kitchen, trying to snatch the book from him. And I mean Punk 57. Not trying to be rude, but reading that made me lose brain cells. And I didn't want to explain to Aemond what a vibrator was.

"You'll become stupid! Stop reading that! Do you wanna be stupid??" I said, running around the kitchen table, trying to get to him. He was reading it while avoiding me.

"Are you calling yourself stupid?" He said with a chuckle.

I groaned in frustration. He was so annoying.

He, fortunately, dropped the book after it's third chapter, saying he didn't get the whole point of high school. I agreed with him.

So I gave him Edgar Allan Poe's collection of short stories while making noodles and cookies. The sun started to rise.

"My classmate said he looks like Hitler."

"Who's Hitler? Another person from your modern era I should admire?"

"Please forget I said anything." I reminded myself to shut up.

It was funny how Poe confused him.

"What is this?" He said after reading The Tell-tale Heart. "Why did he hear the heart beat under—"

"His own guilt made him insane," I said, frowning while trying the cookie dough. It was too sweet, I loved it.

I could see him concentrate while reading The Black Cat and completely change his face when he switched to Poe's poetry. I knew he would love it.

"I think Alone is my favourite so far."

"Mine too. But everything he wrote just resonates with me, you know?"

"Even the Premature burial?"

"Especially the Premature burial." He gave me a once over after my comment and I went to get the food.

Aemond hated noodles, that was certain. He almost spat them out, claiming to be too spicy. I rolled my eyes at him. They weren't even homemade.

I gave him one cookie and I could see that he liked it, but he found another way he could annoy me.

"How do you keep all of your teeth while eating this? The sugar is going to poison me."

"It's not, trust me." I chewed my cookie. "I think you should start reading Tolstoy next and then switch to Kafka."

[susandsnell]

Re anachronistic feminist characters, you are absolutely right and you should say it.

Maybe people who want to read "write women who sew" type stuff should just go do that instead of trying to make every single female character fit into their worldview. Because I don't want every character to be Eloise, I'm fine with variety, but a lot of people seem like they can't stand even one woman challenging gender norms.

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

Thank you so much! Ideally, you'd have feminist characters more representative of the feminist or proto-feminist views of their era where the work is going for historical accuracy to honour the different points of where we were in history and also acknowledge the flaws of the movement at different points in time (1994's Little Women versus the hilariously bad 2019 version comes to mind), and certainly there's an element of repetitiveness in this character type, but this is seldom if ever the criticism I see. The truth of the matter is that in fact many early feminists did denigrate work designated as feminine, but we can acknowledge this as misdirected anger at having one option deemed valid.

Instead, we've somehow arrived at "wanting to be treated with human dignity is internalized misogyny because it really cramps my ability to romanticize the past". As you say, nothing wrong with valuing the labour more frequently done by women, but the fact of the matter is you can do that and show that there were always many people who resisted or did not fit into the tight boxes that society forced them into. Instead of, you know, ridiculing them for wanting to break the boxes while enjoying the fruits of having to fit into fewer boxes than our predecessors precisely because of women who loudmouthed and fought back and didn't fit into certain people's fantasy of being a submissive little princess. The kind of girls you made fun of and ostracized in high school, one might say.

To address a particular point you raise that I think is the most important in this entire ongoing discussion:

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

I keep saying it, but a certain type of liberal feminist are now using "NLOG" the way it was socially acceptable 10-15 years ago to call someone a lesbian/homophobic or transphobic slurs because they didn't wear makeup or want a boyfriend. It is absolutely high school bullying mentality and has gone from an imperfect attempt at addressing internalized misogyny to active misogyny and latent/often overt homophobia and transphobia.

This is what the numbskulls making video essay after video essay about the apparent 'NLOG crisis' fail to grasp. The Heathers and the Plastics are not 'demonized for being feminine', they are accurate representations of how under patriarchy, social capital is gained through strict, obsessive adherence to white, Western beauty standards (which corporations can profit off of endlessly by manufacturing infinite insecurities, so bonus to the rich girls) and excelling at heterosexuality and pleasing others, and this system self-reinforces by the 'winners' bullying those who do not conform as easily. Jo March, queercoded dynamo that she was, took nothing away from the sisters who were happier with more traditional lifestyles because she wanted better for herself and the girls of the future, and represents so many women who fought for just that. You're not actually an intellectual for thinking Daphne Bridgerton has more value than Eloise because she was designated the season's Diamond, a literal in-universe (and true to life) Prize For Being Correctly Female, and unquestioningly accepts being paraded around like an ornament and smiling at being auctioned off to the highest bidder while Eloise fought back, criticized, and wanted an education more than any boy until they forced heterosexuality upon her. You are in fact a vanguard of the very patriarchal system the franchise even presents as backwards, because you don't want anyone raining on your arranged marriage fantasies.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing feminist, about snarking girls who do not like or for whatever reason, cannot or will not perform conventional femininity.

There is a certain sour-grapes defensiveness that comes from beig ostracized and punished for Failing At Your Gender if you weren't good at what was expected of you/resisted it. Femininity is derided, but it is also imposed (the two work in tandem to oppress women); and if you fail at its imposition, it's natural to try and gain protection by participating in the derision. Hell, I theorize that people who proclaimed themselves "not like other girls" in the contemporary age often did so out of resistance at the fact that we're supposed to perform (cisheteronormative) sexiness from the time we hit our teens, and of course the panopticon self-reinforcement that is how Other Girls treat you if you, an adolescent girl, shirk performance of femininity in any way. Certainly, I've also read much about GNC girls (of various identities) and neurodivergent girls equally having turned to this, which makes sense, as they're frequently targets for such bullying.

I do also think - and have personally experienced - it was an often imperfect articulation of queerness in many cases. The societal ideal of women under a patriarchy is cisheteronormativity; our value is derived from our appeal to men, and from the time we start maturing, sexual availability and appeal to men is the highest virtue. Therefore, women whose sexuality is not limited to men - or heaven forbid, doesn't include them at all - 'fail' gender, and accordingly often feel a sense of alienation and ostracism from other girls when they don't get as excited about dating boys. Also, in many cases (anecdotal I admit from people I know, but still significant), people who had a phase of asserting they "weren't like other girls" were in the process of discovering that they weren't girls at all!

And in some cases - again, I've mentioned that I was an Eloise for all the handwringing about how girls of that era wouldn't say that or do that and it would never occur to want more than what they had (...okay, so why are things different now?) - it's a frustration from the outspoken feminists and reformers at not being able to get other girls on board with us, because deviation from expectation will make you the weirdo who gets punished and rejected because ugh, annoying! As one historical costuming youtuber I won't name so charmingly puts it in her godawful video essay, "the women who made a big show of fighting back were freaks." (Way to convince us you care about feminism...)

All this to say the anti-NLOG brigade have utterly worn out my patience, and at best seem ignorant of the battles that have won us the freedoms we have today because it's not fun to consider how your escapist fantasy might be problematic (understandable, you don't always have to reflect on this to be aware), and at worst? They're getting the chance to be the mean girl in high school again/that they never got to be, they're just dressing it up in the bastardized language of feminism.

[kbspangler]

ISSUES - Coping Strategies

Remembered this old story of mine that I had posted on my Patreon in 2017. In April of 2016, I donated an AGAHF story to Geeky Giving, an organization raising funds " to help advance research on Parkinson’s, ALS, traumatic brain injuries, brain tumors, Alzheimer’s and more. " At the time of writing, Geeky Giving was working with the  Barrow Neurological Institute to determine the causes and progression of these conditions. 

Alzheimer's took my grandmother; it took my husband's grandmother. Both of us watch our parents like hawks: both of us wonder what's going to happen to us in 50 years.  So I approached Geeky Giving and offered to donate a story to them. They said sure, and yes, it could be an in-universe AGAHF story as long as it touched on the importance of neurological research. 

I have a series of short stories called "Issues," mainly for topics which don't get a lot of on-panel discovery. This is the story of the brilliant oncologist who had to shift her specialty to cyborg research, and the damaged forensic artist who is slowly putting himself back together. AKA: How Jenny and Shawn fell in love.

Please be kind: this was written in 2015-16 and language changes.

The man on the other side of the bed was sweet and kind and completely insane.

She didn’t know how to feel about that. This uncertainty bothered her more than the act of sleeping with a crazed man. Five years ago, she would have been mortified with herself, with the idea of intimacy with someone such as Shawn. Even if he wasn’t her patient. Even if he was more than a friend. Today, he was just…Shawn.

She didn’t let herself think about it—she’d find fear down there, and maybe something else, something that could chase the fear away but leave them both forever changed.

Instead, she stared at the ceiling and pretended she couldn’t hear her machines call to her.

Shawn’s mental voice was strong, and ran as crisp as a winter river through her mind. “Go,” he said.

 “I thought you were asleep,” she whispered aloud.

“You’re too noisy. You should go. Go be with them.”

She rolled over to face him. He had cut his hair himself last week and had done an awkward job of it. Someone had given him a buzz cut to tidy him up, but aggressive neurosurgery and skull-shorn hair paired poorly. She traced his scars with her fingertips, feeling the bumps and twists of the ridges of his scar tissue, and beneath that, his drowsy tangle of emotions.

“They miss you,” he said in her mind. He reached out and traced her own scars, hidden beneath her short brown hair. “I’ll miss you, too, but I want to sleep.”

“All right.” She kissed him on his shoulder, and felt him drop out of her senses as his implant went into passive mode. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time,” he muttered into his pillow, his voice cut down to nothing from lack of use. “I remember having more energy after sex.”

“You remember sex when you were twenty,” she said. Their clothes were a single knot on the floor; she yanked on loose ends until she had reclaimed her pants. “We’re getting old.”

Gentle snoring.

The other members of the collective slept around them, rooms and buildings and miles away. She felt them around her, off-line but still present in the back of her head, four hundred souls who shared their thoughts with her during the day but kept their dreams to themselves.

She opened the door to the crash room and stepped into her lab. It was a medical suite in name only, stuck beneath a crumbling mansion in what once had been a wine cellar. Federal funding only went so far: the government could front the costs for the cutting-edge technology that had gone into their heads, but resources for infrastructure and development? Please.

She didn’t mind. She had built her own diagnostic laboratory by scavenging equipment from storage, or buying what she couldn’t borrow. The room served double-duty as an emergency ward, but the worst injuries she saw tended to be exercise-induced, and not too many of those.

It left her plenty of time for her own projects.

Her computers whirred to life around her. There was no need for clunky access codes; they recognized her and welcomed her home.

“HELLO, JENNY.”

Theirs was a woman’s voice, false and mechanical. Most days, she told herself that they couldn’t feel, that she was projecting her own eagerness to get back to work on her machines.

On nights like this, when the rest of the collective was sleeping and she was nearly alone in her own head, Jenny wasn’t so sure.

“Hello, ladies,” she said. “Ready to play?”

A human brain sprung up around her in reply.

It was lovingly rendered in greens, and enlarged ten times life-size for clarity; if she looked closely, she could see the bright flashes of synapses.

(Which was something of a comfort—it was her own brain, scanned and digitized, and independent confirmation that your own brain is active is always welcome.)

 The implant rested against her parietal lobe, a small metallic sliver smaller than the head of a nail. At this resolution, she could make out the microscopic filaments connected to it; these ran throughout her brain, the majority twining into her brain stem. Heat regulation had been front and center on the developers’ own minds; without it, the cyborgs would have cooked themselves within their own skulls.

She ran her fingers through the hologram. The silvery filaments covered her holographic brain like cobwebs, shining brightly against the green.

“Ladies, overlay image JED-1 over master.”

A second brain appeared, the same general size and shape as the first but made from blues instead of greens. The opacity of the green brain diminished as the blue brain was positioned over it.

“File: Jenny Davis, late night ramblings,” she said aloud. Talking helped. Speaking directly to her computers through her implant was good for clinical analysis, but it was late, and she was tired, and it was time to purge her thoughts so she could, maybe, get some sleep.

“RECORDING.”

“Thank you, ladies. Subfile: Background, general.” She began to pace around and through the hologram, checking for oddities. The blue brain was hers, too—had been hers, once, nearly seven years and an entire lifetime ago. Before the surgery, and the collective, and the alien oddness of hiveminds had all had their way with it. “Image JED-1, brain of a healthy 22-year-old Caucasian female. Ladies, highlight parietal lobe.”

 A section of the hologram began to glow.

“Side by side, magnify, compare and contrast.”

The hologram divided itself again, blue and green enlarging to fill the room. She wandered through the colors, talking to her machines as she went, tracing lines and shapes and twisting flashes of—

“What’s this?”

Jenny swore aloud as her concentration shattered. Shawn flinched away from her sudden frustration and dropped to his knees.

“Oh, honey!” She knelt beside him and reached out through the link. His consciousness scurried away from hers, looking for an escape but unable to find it. “I didn’t know you were there. I’m so sorry.”

She pressed her bare hands against his bare shoulders: she pushed positive emotions—calm, peace, belonging—across the bridge of their skin until he believed it.

He uncurled, looking up at her like a lost lamb.

“I thought you were asleep,” she explained. “You scared me.”

 Shawn laughed at that.

She managed to coax him off of the ground, one arm around him to keep him steady. “Here,” she said aloud. “Look. Want to see something amazing?

“This is me,” she continued, pointing to the blue hologram. “You know those tests you hate so much?”

“The brain scans?” He shuddered, and the sensation of being trapped in a tight white chamber crushed against her. Of lying as still as death, of knowing the person on the other end of the monitor was looking for what was wrong about what the core of you…

“Easy,” she whispered. “Please.”

His fear let her go, slowly. It had managed to find the cracks in her own psyche and had set itself deep—What if these brain implants stimulate tumorigenesis? Or neurodegeneration, or arteriovenous malformation, or… An almost endless list of what could go wrong…

 But there was the green hologram, brand-new and still perfect, and she told herself to put those fears aside.

“Well…” she began, “you remember during orientation, when we all had full medical diagnostics done? This is a composite image from my first MRI and CT scans.”

He stretched out a hand; it passed through the hologram, layering him in a blue the color of a summer sky.

“And this is me, too,” she said, pulling the green parietal lobe towards them. “From last week. Notice the differences?”

“This,” he said, as he pointed to the bright sliver of light on the green lobe. “Obviously.”

“What else?”

He grinned at her. A sense of pleasure at the challenge came back to her over their link, and she turned away on the pretense of gathering up some fallen papers. Too easy to forget that Shawn had once been in the FBI, that he had once been a brilliant up-and-coming forensic artist.

That experimenting with the human mind could have consequences.

Shawn didn’t seem to notice. He moved between the holograms, sorting and poking. His own digital renders began to appear as he worked; the holograms he created were more stylized than her own, freehand sketches hanging in the air beside her still images.

“Here,” he said, once done.

She wrapped her arms around him and stood on her toes so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. His sketches were playful, with arcs of white light moving across the lobes in quick streams. In some places, they caught what she hadn’t: Shawn’s sketches moved across regions that seemed no different than the others, with—

Jenny squinted, hard. “Are those bunnies?”

She stepped away from Shawn and moved into the holograms. A tiny cartoon rabbit popped out of a fold in her green parietal lobe and scampered across her brain. That first rabbit was followed by a second, then a third…more rabbits, an infinite number of rabbits, each scurrying with purpose towards different destinations.

Not just arcs of light, then.

“There are cheetahs somewhere,” he said. “And horses, too. They don’t show up as often. I used rabbits to show the most frequent movement.”

Sure enough, a streak of light emerged across the green expanse before her. A herd of wild mustangs, manes and tails flowing together as they ran, moved in a single stream.

“Damn,” she said softly. “Baby, this is really beautiful.”

She felt his cheeks flush. “It’s just a clip from a YouTube video,” he replied. “I didn’t have time to render each horse.”

“But you drew the bunnies?”

“One of them. The rest are a copy-paste job.”

“These are neural networks,” she said, reaching out to touch the mustangs with her mind. They blurred beneath her thoughts: she hastily moved her mind away, scared she had damaged them. The herd reformed and continued its journey. “Your bunnies are action potentials. The horses—” Out of the corner of her eye, a tiny feline body bunched and shot across the hologram at an incredible speed. “—and the cheetahs are electrochemical neurotransmissions.”

He laughed aloud, a wild, coughing sound. “I can’t remember freshman biology,” he said. “All I know is that the green brain has more wildlife than the blue one. A lot more wildlife.”

“That’s because the implant’s been changing us.”

White light in her head, so bright and sudden it took her a moment to realize her words had stunned him. Shawn stood, motionless, before he turned and fled to the comfortable darkness of the crash room.

“Oh, no, no, Shawn honey…” Jenny hurried after him. If he managed to make it under the bed, he’d be there for the rest of the week. She reached him in time to lay both hands flat on his back and pushed calm, belonging, peace across their joined skin.

He let her pull him away from the bed, but no further. They huddled on the floor in a sad, uncomfortable pile, and she felt a spot on the knee of her jeans grow damp.

Shawn was crying.

“There’s always some good that comes with change,” she said gently.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and desperate, before curling in on himself again.

“You didn’t break. You got a little bent, but… Here,” she said. “Come back to the lab. I want to show you something.”

Bad days turned him mulish, but this was a good day: she was able to coax him off the floor and as far as the doorway. They stood in the void between rooms, cold tile beneath their toes and warm carpet under their heels, as the holograms spun before them.

Jenny pointed. “You said you noticed how there was more wildlife in the green brain?”

“…yes…”

“That’s because our brains—this part of our brains, anyhow—is more active than it was before we got the implant. No, not just active—it’s thriving! Want to guess why?”

His attention was fixed on the holograms, but the easy scorn of an eyeroll passed between them.

“Humor me,” she said. “I’m going to have to explain this to people who aren’t in the collective at some point. Help me find the right words for this.”

“Because we’re using our brains in new ways,” Shawn replied, his mood pulling itself a little higher. “Talking via a link, or this—” he said, and pushed sensations at her.

Unseen fur, coarse but soft, surrounded her hands. Beneath that was the heat from a living body. With these came the memory of a beloved family dog, long dead but not forgotten.

“Exactly,” she said, blinking back her own tears at the loss of a pet she had never met. “We’re the first humans to have been augmented in this way. It’s causing us to think and act differently. We’ve got these new skills that we’re just beginning to put to use. We’re barely seven years into this experiment, and there’s already observable growth in the parietal lobe. Can you imagine what we’ll be able to do after—”

 “Wait, Jenny, wait. Brains grow? Don’t we… I thought we started shedding brain mass once we turned eighteen.”

“That’s Hollywood science,” she said. “Outdated and chock full of errors, but it still fits the script. The reality is…”

—rabbits, horses, and giant cats, speeding over an expanse of green in endless knots of light—

“The reality is, we’re miracles,” she said to him. “Human beings weren’t meant to be networked together. We shouldn’t have the ability to survive as part of a collective, but we do. We change—we grow. We’ve barely begun to understand how we can do any of this, but the more we learn, the more we can use that to grow.”

Shawn broke away from her and stepped into the lab. Greens and blues moved around him, coloring him in a digital sea. He was still naked; the scars across his wrists were nearly as white as the glowing animals.

“What about me?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not…” Shawn’s hands clenched uselessly. “I’m not who I used to be. Does this mean I can go back to how I was, or will I…”

He opened his hands and let his mind pour into hers.

Memories. All of them, from the moment that his own mind broke under the weight of a new reality to living in the fear of staying as he was, unable to change, unable to grow, a roller coaster of emotions that threatened to tip off of the rails—

Too much: she cried out. Shawn lost focus: the memories faded.

Her world rebuilt itself in pieces. The floor came first: she had fallen to her knees. She concentrated on the patterns in the tile until she found the walls. Where there was a floor and walls, there was a ceiling…

She stood.

Shawn hadn’t noticed. “Is this me?” he asked. “This?! From now on?”

She closed her eyes and thought about impossible conversations. Then: “Ladies?”

The holograms stopped spinning.

“Replace current images with new holographic display. Show SEF-1 and SEF-46, parietal lobes only. Side-by-side comparisons.”

Blues and greens vanished; blues and greens returned. To the untrained eye, nothing had changed; the wildlife was gone, but the silvery rectangle was still there on the green brain, and the same flashes of light chased itself in purposeful patterns across both.

“Here,” she said, as she joined Shawn in the center of the room. “This is you. Your earliest scans are blue, and the most recent scans are green.”

He stared up at the twisting holograms. She felt his attention dart across the details, focusing like a laser on anything distinctive or different…

“They look just like yours,” he finally admitted.

“That’s the problem, baby.” Jenny pulled him close. “If you had typical neurological damage, it’d show up on the scans. Whatever happened to you, it’s…harder to find.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Mental illness can be caused by emotional, psychological, or physiological events, or a combination of these. We’re just beginning to scratch the surface of the causes of known disorders. Since your condition is almost unique, we’re flying blind.”

Sorrow. Loss. Anger—You’re a doctor! Why can’t you fix what’s wrong with me?!—and fear.

So much fear.

“We’ll get there,” she promised, as she pushed her own fear down below where she could feel it. “You’re responding well to medication and therapy. It’ll take time, and trial-and-error, and…and more tests, I’m sorry. None of this is easy, but we’ll make it work.

“You might never get back to who you used to be,” she admitted, as his heart hammered in her head. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t get to where you want to be, now.”

“I can do more tests,” he said quietly, even as the white chamber rose up again in his mind.

Together, they held their fears away.

[borninwinter81]

William Blake and Good Omens - an intertextual analysis

Please note: I did another version of this and posted it, but it was quite hurried, way too short, and was incorrect in a number of ways so I deleted it. However it had already been reblogged by the time i did so. If you happen to see another version of this meta that's not the right one, this is the version I'm happy with!

After my previous post re William Blake and Good Omens did so well, and so many people showed an interest I've decided to do a more in depth piece. This is focused upon the TV version of Good Omens, not the book.

Please don't tag Neil in this - although it's mostly textual analysis I do a very small amount of S3 theorising, and I know he doesn't want to see that.

I am in no way suggesting that Neil and Terry specifically wrote Good Omens with Blake in mind, I honestly just wanted an excuse to write more about Blake because I love his work so much, and I thought it would be interesting to try and apply some intertexuality since the works will contain similar themes, both being about God, religion, humanity, and angels and demons.

I also should stress that I am not an expert on Blake, there are people far more qualified to comment on him than I. I'm just a former literature student who loves his work.

There have been many different interpretations of Blake's work over the years, so it's completely fine to disagree with someone else's ideas about it, as with any work of art or literature. And although this piece is likely to be long, I'll barely be able to scratch the surface of all the possible meanings that could be ascribed to it.

Much like the old adage that if someone claims to understand quantum physics they're lying, I'm not sure anyone can truly fathom the full meaning of Blake's philosophy (especially in his later prophetic works, fuuuuuuck those beasts....), so if you're confused by him don't be discouraged, that's perfectly normal!

That being said, I wish to discuss the parallels between Good Omens and The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, my personal favourite and probably the most accessible of his longer works.

"Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence. From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell."

This excerpt is from near the opening and sets out the central idea of the work - that there is an essential duality to humanity, and each person is a combination of extremes. These extremes are not at war with each other, but rather are equally necessary, hence the "marriage" of the title. "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" is a metaphor for the human experience.

Consistently throughout The Marriage... Blake refers to the two extremes as Reason and Energy. These terms could be construed in a number of different ways: thought versus emotion, mental versus physical, restraint versus desire, temperance versus excess, caution versus impulsiveness, and following the rules versus free will.

Blake's use of the word "Reason" in this context may be somewhat confusing, however he likely chose it because of his negative feelings towards science and the Age of Enlightenment. Blake saw literal visions of angels and prophets and the divinity of all creation, and hated that science reduced everything to formulas, calculations, and materialism, leaving the world bereft of wonder. "Art is the Tree of Life. Science is the Tree of Death" as he put it.

His ideas about "reason" are best expressed by his painting "Newton". Though inspired by the scientist, it is not a portrait - instead it depicts a figure deeply engrossed in scientific drawings and calculations, totally ignoring the beauty all around him - see below.

In the context of The Marriage... Reason is "passive" because it involves thought, caution, self-restraint, and doing what you are told, all states which block action. Energy is "active" because it is physical, emotional, impulsive and allows you to act based on your own choices and desires. It's quite clear that Blake feels "energy" is the preferable state - he tells us as much in the next section:

"The Voice of the Devil

All Bibles or sacred codes, have been the causes of the following Errors. 1. That Man has two real existing principles Viz: a Body & a Soul. 2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body, & that Reason, call'd Good, is alone from the Soul. 3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies. But the following Contraries to these are True. 1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age. 2. Energy is the only life and is from the Body and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy. 3. Energy is Eternal Delight."

So the body is an aspect of the soul, not separate from it, Energy comes from the body, it is Reason which places limits upon Energy, but Energy is eternal delight. Physicality, desire, impulsiveness, emotion, sensual pleasure and free will are not wrong or evil, they are aspects of the human soul and it is from them that we derive our enjoyment of life.

This does not necessarily mean that Reason is always bad. After all, Blake tells us that both are necessary for human existence. Sometimes temperance, caution and thought before action are required. But Reason becomes negative when it "usurps its place and governs the unwilling", i.e. when it completely supplants Energy and becomes the sole guiding factor, forcing passivity.

The Angels of The Marriage... are governed by "systematic reasoning", therefore they are wholly creatures of Reason. They are also "all religious" meaning they believe the "errors" stated above. His Devils by contrast "hate religion" meaning they believe the "contraries", which are the true statements according to Blake. It does not necessarily follow that they are wholly governed by Energy, merely that they believe Energy is "eternal delight".

It is worth noting at this point that Blake saw God and religion as totally separate. For Blake, "God" is that connection with divine wonder which was integral to his life; he tells us plainly that "all deities reside in the human breast" and that "the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God". In other words all humans have a direct and intuitive link with God and don't require the church, Priests, or a religious framework and adherence to a set of rules in order to reach moral decisions. These rules exist only to "enslave the vulgar".

The importance of this ability to make one's own choices about a moral course of action is shown by one of the "Memorable Fancy" sections of The Marriage...

Blake relates how a Devil is able to use an Angel's "systematic reasoning" against them:

"if Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love him in the greatest degree; now hear how he has given his sanction to the law of ten commandments: did he not mock at the sabbath, and so mock the sabbaths God? Murder those who were murder'd because of him? Turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery? Steal the labor of others to support him? Bear false witness when he omitted making a defence before Pilate? Covet when he pray'd for his disciples, and when he bid them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments; Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules."

The Angel has no way to refute the "reasoning" that Jesus was governed by Energy and "impulse", i.e. his own morality, the "voice of righteous indignation", not reasoning and the rules laid down by Heaven. And because Jesus is the Messiah he must be virtuous, therefore Energy is virtuous. The Angel immediately allows himself to be consumed by fire and is resurrected as a Devil.

How can these concepts apply to the world of Good Omens?  This was where my first draft was totally incorrect, as I tried to transfer Blake's ideas about Angels and Demons and Heaven and Hell wholesale, applying "reason" to Aziraphale and Heaven and "energy" to Crowley and Hell.  In fact the divide is slightly different in the GO-verse: Crowley and Aziraphale *both* represent Energy, and it is Heaven and Hell that act according to Reason.

At first glance Aziraphale may appear to toe the line - he needs creative application of the rules to make him comfortable with trying to avert the apocalypse, and when he doesn't like the way matters are being handled by the Archangels he seeks a higher authority and goes straight to God. He'd clearly prefer someone to be confirming the rightness of his actions for him. However this doesn't mean that he won't act on his own.

Immediately upon his introduction to the story he has given away his flaming sword, an action that he took impulsively because he felt it was right, not because someone told him to. It bothers him, but he does it anyway.

In the Job storyline, though he initially looks for some loophole within the rules that will allow him to save Job's children, in the end he directly goes against Heaven to do it, even though he believes he is going to Fall and become a Demon for having done so.

Though he resists it and exhausts all other possible avenues first, he eventually does take an active role in averting the apocalypse in S1.

He hides Jim at great personal risk to himself and against the will of both Heaven and Hell, again because he feels it is the right thing to do.

He is therefore perfectly capable of independent action from a position of "righteous indignation".

On a more basic level, he enjoys worldly pleasures, which all come from "energy" according to Blake's philosophy. Food and drink most obviously, but also books, music, dancing, theatre, art and so on.

Crowley is more easy to place as acting from Energy - in spite of the obvious aesthetic differences between them, he also loves worldly pleasures. Alcohol and coffee, snazzy clothing, driving his car with Queen blaring on the stereo, going to lunch with Aziraphale, Shakespearean comedies. All things he isn't supposed to want or need, and which baffle other Demons, in the same way that Aziraphale's desire for food baffles the Angels.

And he's absolutely willing to act according to his own moral impulses when they conflict with Hell's orders (or Heaven's), be it saving Job's children, ensuring that Elspeth doesn't die by suicide, or averting the apocalypse. Yes, he'll try to hide his "good" actions in order to avoid punishment by Hell, but he's firmly "on his own side".

Conversely, Heaven and Hell are both part of the structure of religion in this story, are strictly adherent to a set of rules, and their inhabitants appear to have no real desires of their own, other than possible advancement within the systems they uphold. They are "passive" in that their functions allow the status quo to continue and the "great plan" to unfold as they believe it is meant to, even though each side expects a different outcome.

Again, applying Blake's philosophy, I would say the reason for this is that "energy is from the body". Crowley and Aziraphale have both been given bodies in order that they can exist on earth, and *have* existed on earth for 6000 years, therefore "energy" - physical pleasures and free thinking - have become a part of who they are.

On a more fundamental level, possession of a body can be equated to humanity, and humanity has been shown as the most powerful force of all in this story, its influence having led to Adam becoming "human incarnate", and thus acting according to what he feels is right, instead of fulfilling the function he was destined for.

Heaven and Hell contain no material objects, and the Angels and Demons are spiritual beings, having no bodies, so they are not open to energy, and therefore are wholly governed by Reason, and the preservation of the religious structures within which they exist. Structures which, as for Blake, may not actually have anything to do with God herself. In S1 she is a distant observer, clearly aware through her narration of all that is going on, but not interceding in any way. In S2 she is barely present save for her voice being heard briefly in Job, and overlaid with Gabriel's on two occasions.

Bearing all this in mind, what predictions can we make regarding S3 by applying Blake's philosophy?

"The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell.

For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at [the] tree of life, and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt.

This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment."

The parallels of the cherub with his flaming sword, and the passage of 6000 years should be obvious to anyone reading this - they have of course been lifted directly from the Bible as they are in GO.

I have read some metas which speculated that Aziraphale's bookshop, or perhaps Earth itself, is a metaphorical stand-in for Eden or The Tree of Life. Aziraphale has been commanded to leave his "Eden" and will now be instrumental in causing the whole of creation to become infinite and holy, but Blake tells us this will be done by an improvement of sensual enjoyment, which arises from Energy not Reason.

Sensual enjoyment is something which is intrinsic to Aziraphale's character, and this could make his placement in Heaven very important.

Putting aside all the "final fifteen" theories and taking matters at face value, Aziraphale tells us that if he's in charge he can make a difference - he needs to subvert the system from the inside out. The most subversive thing of all could be that a sensualist who acts according to "the voice of moral indignation" and "Energy" has become the supreme Archangel. We have seen in Blake how a realisation that Energy could be virtuous was enough to convert an Angel into a Devil (incidentally, does the image of an Angel being consumed by fire and emerging as a Devil seem familiar at all...)

We may have seen the beginnings of this already. Gabriel and Beelzebub became open to Energy from such little things as visiting earth, spending time in one another's company, and their mutual enjoyment of a song, which has given them wants and desires beyond those dictated by Heaven and Hell. This is enough to make them wish to leave their roles behind.

It's possible that the same may happen with Muriel. They haven't yet imbibed food or drink, but they have shown an enjoyment of books, which are an earthly pleasure, and open the reader up to new ideas and ways of thinking.

Of course, this would lead to questions regarding the Metatron's statement that he has "ingested things", and whether this means he is acting from reason or energy. Of course the simplest explanation is that it is a manipulation tactic, and he is lying about having done so, but if true that statement has some interesting implications. However, this is now super-long and I'm out of juice, so will leave others to speculate. I may return to this in the future!

There we go, hope you enjoyed. I doubt this will reach nearly as many people as my first Blake post, but if a few find it of interest then my work is done!