#this counts as cryptozoology right?

[sivavakkiyar]

from Perec’s Life A User’s Manual. As the wiki article shows, ‘Gelon The Samartian’ might figure as a different translation, or more likely I think a deliberate misattribution (idk), but the text Perec uses is directly lifted from Rabelais’ 4th book of Pantagruel: (… “also a tarand, whom he bought of a Scythian of the Gelones’ country”.)

Rabelais includes a final statement that Perec leaves off:

“When the creature was free from any fear or affection, the colour of its hair was just such as you see that of the asses of Meung.”

[ominoose]

10 Fandoms/10 Characters/10 Tags

Thank you @steven-grants-world @reallyrallyauthor @redeyerhaenyra @soulsforsales for the tags, very sweet of you all <3

Jake Lockley / Moon Knight

2) Bart Allen / Young Justice

3) Shigaraki Tomura / My Hero Academia

4) Leto Atreides / Dune

5) Rosetta / Disney Fairies

6) Grogu / The Mandalorian

7) Princess Daisy / Mario

8) C3P0 / Star Wars

9) The Intruder - Mandela Catalogue

10) Fresno Nightcrawlers / Cryptozoology

Tags: Anyone that wants to post their stuff

[clotpolesonly]

Live A Little (Love A Lot)

some silly Bronan platonic bonding and bickering in honor of valentine's day, cuz they're just so much fun and i love them | Bronan | Gen | 3k | Banter | Fluff & Humor | Platonic Kisses | (also on AO3)

Blue wasn’t quite sure how she ended up alone at Monmouth Manufacturing with Ronan. Gansey was at a family function—a political function, rather, that happened to involve his family, and thus required his presence to complete the pretty picture—and Adam wouldn’t be back from his factory shift for another twenty minutes or so. She had a feeling that Noah might have been here at some point, but after his sacrifice and Cabeswater’s reconstitution of Gansey, their ability to keep track of him in their minds and their memories was a little hit or miss.

However it had started, now it was just Blue cross-legged on Gansey’s bed, being nosy and going through all the books he had stacked up on the floor beside it in a tower tall enough to act as a nightstand for yet more books, and Ronan, sprawled out on the main strip of miniature Henrietta and tossing bits of potato chip into the air for Chainsaw to swoop for. Half the time, she was too late to catch them and the bits fell back down to hit him in the face. He didn’t seem to mind much.

It was a drowsy, boring, waiting type of afternoon, but it was kind of nice too. Out of all her boys, Ronan was the one she’d spent the least amount of time with, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever spent more than a few minutes with only him. Being trapped in a frightening mystical underground cavern in the dark together and tormented by images of their dead and potentially soon-to-be-dead loved ones, she thought, didn’t count.

She put down Rhiannon: An Inquiry into the Origins of the First and Third Branches of the Mabinogi and picked up Mysterious Creatures: A Guide to Cryptozoology next. It had a candy bar wrapper stuffed in it as a bookmark, about thirty pages from the end. There had been ten books stacked on top of it. Blue wondered if Gansey remembered or had even noticed that he hadn’t gotten around to those last thirty pages. Probably not.

“Hey, maggot.”

A few months ago, this might have ruined her good mood. Now she just turned to the entry on Sasquatch—Gansey had doodled several footprints of varying sizes in the margins here—and said, “I’m not dignifying that by answering to it.”

“You just did, moron. Hey, would you date me?”

Blue put the book down. “Come again?”

Ronan had not unsprawled from downtown, one foot planted on Magnolia Drive so that his crooked knee towered over the drug store with the old-timey striped awning, the other elbow jutting out between the public library and the less respectable of Henrietta’s two Denny’s. Chainsaw seemed to have realized where all the chip bits were coming from. She’d stolen the bag right out of Ronan’s hand and was pecking covetously through its contents a few crossroads away. Ronan had to crane his head back, pale throat bared, to look at Blue upside down.

“Noah said you said you’d go out with him—” Well, that at least confirmed her suspicion about how they’d ended up in this position, though it smarted that Ronan seemed to remember something that she didn’t. “—you know, if he was alive and shit. What about me?”

“You are alive. And shit.”

“No duh, dumbass. I meant, would you go out with me? If I asked?”

Blue blinked at him. “Ronan, you don’t want to go out with me.”

Ronan’s eye roll was impressive in its thoroughness. “Yeah, yeah, but, you know. If I did.”

For a moment, Blue was stymied, both by the question itself and by the fact that Ronan had asked it. It struck her as nonsensical in a way that none of their wild, mind-bending, magical shenanigans ever had. Then she looked at Ronan again—at the sharp and graceful hooks of his elaborate tattoo, at the artfully distressed jeans that she knew he bought that way on purpose rather than letting them get ripped up organically, at the way he lounged like he was just waiting for somebody to paint him like one of their french girls. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is this a pride thing?”

Ronan grinned, sharp and unrepentant; she had him pegged and he seemed to like that. “Gotta make sure the chicks dig me.”

“Even if you don’t dig ‘em back?”

“Especially when I don’t dig ‘em back.”

Blue huffed. A piece of unruly hair, escaped from its clip, bounced haphazardly in front of her face. She ignored it in favor of grabbing another one of Gansey’s books without looking at its title. “Well, I am not a chick—” Her tone made very clear how unfeminist she considered the term to be. “—and I’m not dignifying that question with a response either.”

“Oh, come on.”

Ronan dragged out the last syllable for a day and a half. Maybe two days. There was a whole Daylight Saving’s Time trapped inside that syllable. He finally rolled himself out of the road to sit up, startling Chainsaw into flight and nearly knocking the painstakingly crafted popsicle stick awning off the drug store, just so he could make an entreating face at her. She ignored that too.

“You said you’d date Noah!” he whined. “You dated Parrish! You’re all up on Gansey’s d—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Ronan Lynch.”

“And now Cheng too!” Ronan scoffed spectacularly. “Not to be confused with Cheng Two, though at the rate you’re going—”

Blue snapped her book closed and said, “Quit being a shitbag, Lynch. I don’t date shitbags regardless of their sexuality.”

Ronan made a very put-upon noise, like she was being unreasonable about the whole thing and horribly unfair to boot. “If I was attracted to women, and neither of us was dating anybody else who would object, and I asked you out. Would you say yes? That’s all I’m asking!”

“You really want to know?”

Ronan frowned stubbornly at her in response. It wasn’t an angry kind of frown, though. She was very used to Ronan’s angry frowns, and his angry glares, and his angry smiles, and pretty much every other kind of angry expression, seeing as anger was his default emotion. This one looked more petulant than anything. Grumpy in a challenging kind of way, like a goat getting ready to butt heads, or like one of the toddlers that frequented 300 Fox Way when they wanted to stay up past bedtime and had a whole argument ready to present in favor of the idea and were just begging for somebody to try and tell them they shouldn’t.

This wasn’t an angry or upset Ronan, Blue realized. This was Ronan in a good mood. He was having fun arguing with her like this.

She bit down on a smile. “You really want to know?” She dragged out the word for a whole ‘nothing Daylight Saving’s Time.

Ronan picked up a stray chip and threw it in her direction. It bounced off her knee and fell down behind Gansey’s pillow. “Why would I ask a question if I didn’t want to know the answer, huh? Stupid.”

Blue put the book she’d been pretending to read back on its precarious tower—several books shorter now than it had been before she’d gotten nosy—and stood, hands on her hips. “Come on, then,” she said brusquely. “Get up.”

Ronan blinked up at her, taken aback. “What for?”

“I like to make informed decisions. Up! Let me get a look at you.”

For a second, she thought he might object to the idea of being examined and evaluated like livestock, but then another grin bloomed on his face, every bit as sharp and unrepentant as the last. He stood with the coiled grace of a pit viper ready to strike. His arms, bared by his black tank top, were impressively muscled, and his tattoo flirted over the edge of his solid shoulders. His thumbs found his belt loops, jeans low slung and hips jutting forward. His eyes really were some of the bluest Blue had ever seen, rivaled only by his own brothers. He was all sharp angles and contrast, danger and insouciance, like a cat on a tightrope casually licking its claws.

In short, he looked good, and it was obvious he knew it. Nobody adored a Lynch like a Lynch.

Blue kept her face impassive, lips pursed. She took her time circling him. He didn’t turn his head to watch her, content, apparently, to let her survey him from every angle. There was a smirk on his lips by the time she came back around to stand in front of him.

“So?” he asked, a laugh in his tone. Like he knew what her answer would be. Like he’d already won. “What’s the verdict?”

Blue hummed thoughtfully. “No.”

Ronan lost his smirk. “What?” His voice had jumped up at least half an octave, like he’d been shocked into forgetting it was supposed to be low and gruff and sexy.

“No,” Blue said again, breezily. “I wouldn’t date you. Sorry.”

There was a moment of silence while Ronan recalibrated. She’d never seen him speechless before, but she had really and truly caught him off guard. As his mouth opened and closed without any words coming out, Blue thought he might actually be a little hurt.

Finally, he said, “Why the fuck not? You’d date everybody else!”

Blue crossed her arms over her chest, hoping her cheeks weren’t pink, and shrugged. “Don’t feel bad about it. It’s nothing personal,” she said honestly. “It’s not because I don’t see the appeal or anything. It’s just… Well, frankly, you’re too tall for my tastes.”

Ronan scoffed at once. “Seriously?”

Blue raised an eyebrow at him. Then she dragged her eyes down to what was actually on her level, which were his pectorals, if she was standing up real straight. She didn’t even reach his clavicle. He was, quite literally, head and shoulders taller than her.

“Gansey and Henry are already bad enough,” she said. “And Adam was on thin ice back when we were together. I would break my damn neck trying to kiss you! No offense.”

“How is that not offensive? Not my fault you’re a midget.”

“Not my fault you’re the human equivalent of a telephone pole.”

“You should kiss me anyway.”

“What?” It was Blue’s turn to get squeaky with surprise.

Ronan had his smirk back, though. “I said you should kiss me anyway! You already kissed everybody else.”

Blue’s cheeks were definitely pink now, both at the reminder of the time she and Adam had ill-advisedly—AKA drunkenly—decided to finally have the kiss that had broken them up several months before, just for the sake of saying they’d done it, and at the realization that Ronan was right. What kind of cliche was she, the only girl in a group of boys, getting kissed by every one of them?

Well, almost every one.

“Ronan Lynch,” she said, indignant enough that nothing else needed to be said to make it known.

He was not shamed. “Come on, why not? I’m feeling very left out! One kiss. What, are you afraid you’ll fall desperately in love with me?”

Blue’s snort of laughter was so immediate and so strong that Ronan honestly should’ve been offended by it. He only grinned, though, and reached out to tug at the stray piece of hair in front of her face.

“Come on,” he said again. “Just one kiss. As a friend thing.”

Blue was pretty sure that wasn’t something normal friends did with each other. But, then, she was also aware that theirs was hardly a normal group of friends. She slapped his hand away and said, “A friend thing, really?”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird.”

“I think kissing my ex-boyfriend’s gay current boyfriend is weird by definition, no matter why I do it.”

Ronan’s grin widened. “Live a little, Sargent.”

There was a dare in that smile. It was the kind of smile Ronan gave to Adam that convinced Adam to tie himself to the back of the Pig and see if he could skateboard behind it like he was waterskiing because if he didn’t do it then it meant he was scared, and, if you asked Ronan, there was nothing worse than being scared. It was the kind of smile you rose to the challenge of or you risked losing Ronan Lynch’s respect, and, if you asked Blue, there was nothing worse than losing Ronan Lynch’s respect.

Blue kicked Ronan in the shin. Hard.

He yelped, as much out of surprise as from pain, and pitched forward to protect the area under attack. Blue only had to give him a little push to get him down on one knee.

“Fuckshit, maggot, what was that f—”

Blue caught his face in her hands and cut off his question with a kiss. It was a proper one, too, not one of those chaste little grandma-pecks. If Ronan Lynch wanted a kiss, then she was damn well going to give him one. There was only a split second of bafflement before he was giving back as good as he got, never one to lose or be outdone. Blue had to acknowledge, at least to herself and never ever out loud where anyone else could hear, that Adam was a lucky man.

When she was certain that the challenge had been met to everybody’s satisfaction, she pulled back to pat Ronan on the cheek. Stunned, Ronan let her get away with it.

In answer to his interrupted question, she said, “I told you you’re too tall. As nice a kiss as that was, I wasn’t about to break my neck for it. And anyway, I think I like you better like this.”

The sharklike look on his face was all the warning she had. In a split second, Ronan was on his feet again, one arm wrapped around her to keep her in place, ruffling her hair so aggressively that it sent clips ricocheting around the room. Chainsaw immediately started snatching them up and spiriting them away.

“Lynch, you asshole!”

Ronan released her with a peal of laughter. He dodged her attempt to grab him back and made good use of his significantly longer legs to book it to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She could still hear him laughing in there.

“Yeah, yuck it up, chucklefuck,” she yelled. “See if I ever kiss you again!”

“What’s going on here?”

Blue spun around to see Adam, bleary-eyed and grimy, paused in the entrance. She hadn’t heard the heavy door open over all the commotion. Straightening out the rumpled mess of her outfit and also, hopefully, her dignity, she said, “Your boyfriend’s cheating on you with me.”

There were several seconds where Adam tried to make sense of those words. Eventually, it seemed, he gave up. “Okay. I need a shower.”

He disappeared into the godforsaken bathroom-laundry-kitchen monstrosity. Blue huffed and threw herself back down onto Gansey’s bed. The chip Ronan had thrown at her earlier bounced out with the motion to nudge at her hand. She snatched it up, ate it, and only then remembered that it had been on the floor before it had become a projectile. Oh well. It was probably more sanitary than anything that had been prepared in that bathroom anyway.

“You lied.”

Blue spun around again, only this time it was Noah, smudgy and pale and half-there, that she found this time. He was lying on his stomach down the main strip of miniature Henrietta, poking at the drug store awning like it fascinated him. It felt, in that moment, like he’d been there the whole time.

“What d’you mean?” Blue asked him. “About what?”

“When you said you wouldn’t date Ronan if he asked. You totally would. No matter how tall he is.” He said it like a statement of fact. Like there was no doubt in his mind.

Blue stuck out her chin in defiance. “Oh yeah? Why are you so sure about that?”

Noah shrugged. “He’s one of your boys.”

Blue deflated. She made a very put-upon noise, but she could hardly argue. Not against Noah. “I guess. Don’t tell him, though. It would go straight to his head, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Noah mimed zipping up his mouth and throwing away the key. Chainsaw, returned from hiding Blue’s hairclips where no one would ever find them again, chased the motion like she thought he’d really thrown something and made a distinctly plaintive noise when she realized he hadn’t. He offered her a stray piece of cardboard in apology.

Blue settled back down into Gansey’s bed. She picked up The Welsh Kings: Warriors, Warlords And Princes and flipped to where a gas station receipt marked the day Gansey had forgotten he was reading it. The noise of the shower running was soft and soothing. Noah was humming something she was almost certain he’d learned from Ronan. Everything smelled like mint and dust and old paper.

Soon enough, she thought, Ronan would probably judge the coast clear. He’d emerge carefully, watching her for any sign that she was mad and preparing to launch another sneak attack on him. She was willing to bet he would be sharp-eyed and thrilled the entire time, delighted by the game. A sudden fondness filled her up so much she thought she might burst with it.

Noah was right. No matter how obnoxiously tall he was, no matter what a shithead he could be, no matter the nature of the relationship—Blue still loved Ronan more than words could say. How could she not? He was one of her boys.

[thessalian]

Please say more things about the dragon design if you have thoughts because I have been WAITING for someone else to geek out over them with

Please remember that you asked for this. And there will probably be more later - for space reasons, if nothing else. Please keep in mind that I was the one who spent most of the Game of Thrones series ranting that Daenerys was the mother of wyverns rather than the mother of dragons because two legs plus wings is WYVERN, godsdamnit. Let’s just say I have a Biology A-level and a healthy interest in cryptozoology.

Okay. So. Body habitus, colouration, horn shape / placement, wing shape etc on the Chroma Conclave, and why it all works, in my opinion,

Vorgual - did you notice that the tips of his wings were more sharply pointed than the others' wings? I looked up arctic birds, just out of curiosity, and a lot of arctic birds have similarly sharp angles to their wings. It honestly makes sense when you're living in someplace with occasionally very sharp and harsh winds; you want enough wingspan not only to catch the wind when you want it, but to not have to tilt the wing too far in order to avoid windshear dragging at your speed or worse, damaging your feathers (or wing membranes, in this case). Not to mention that more points of attachment to the body means there's less effort expended to keep the wings close to the body in windy conditions. I bet Vorugal could do one hell of a death-from-above swallow-dive, and the expanded length of wings means that he could make like someone wearing a wingsuit - shut the wings entirely and do a controlled plummet, then open everything up and slow or stop the fall exactly where he wants. The other reason it’s good to have a wingsuit-like wing build in the kinds of arctic climes a white dragon would generally pick is because their lairs are generally going to be in caves carved in icy cliffside. You’re going to want something that lets you glide as much as possible in an ice canyon, to take advantage of the updrafts that ensue in that kind of terrain and to fold in close to the body while going through a particularly narrow area, counting on momentum to get you through it with as little potential tearing of the wing membrane as possible. In fact, Vorugal’s wings were the most intact of the bunch - no edge-tears, no little holes, nothing. There were marks on the wings that looked like holes, but no; in fact, they were less light-permeable than the wing membranes themselves. Given the care they took with the designs, I don’t think they’d make a mistake like that, so those dark patches would be part of camouflage markings. Because according to the Monster Manual, ancient whites latch onto walls and ceilings (also like a bat, which makes the wing shape make even more sense), so blunt horns that look like craggy bits of ice and wings that give the appearance of rocks scattered on a whitish surface (suggesting ice or snow) makes even more sense. Imagine Vorugal wrapped up in his wings like a bat, clinging to the ceiling of his lair. He’d look like a very large icicle in anything but very direct light - which you’re not going to get when lair actions include dense fog. So Vorugal’s design is basically perfect.

Raishan - snake parallels aside, consider the membranous crests that aren’t just at the head and down the neck, but also along the tail near where it meets the body. Greens traditionally hide their lairs in vegetation, or in or around water - behind waterfalls, caverns you can only get to by diving in a stream, something like that. That makes the additional cresting on Raishan’s body serve as either additional camouflage (with the right vegetation, green semi-opaque membranous tissue looks like just more leaf) or an aid to swimming (like fins). She clearly has control over their movement, so either works. It’s a far cry from the Monster Manual talking about that single crest on the neck up to the head, but it works a lot better because it’s got some evolutionary benefits. Honestly, so does the narrower body; after all, if you live in an area with a lot of trees, having a narrower body makes it easier to move around in. I mean, consider Umbrasyl (who I’ll talk about in a minute); similar narrow build, and greens and blacks often compete for territory in marshy woodland areas. As for the head shape ... everything from eye position to the rounded snout says ‘pit viper’, which immediately makes a person think ‘poison’. Which is what you want to be thinking when looking at a green dragon. (Well, that and ‘RUN’.)

Umbrasyl - like I said, talking about him in a minute, and he’s also perfectly designed for the swamplands he would generally call home. The crest of spikes on his head that looks like it’s got thick cobweb or vegetative growth stretched between each spike, the various hooked spines along his body from nose to tail that could look like half-rotted limbs and branches, the extra bits of spine at the junction between tail and body up at the top that looks like it could theoretically open into some kind of fin ... Umbrasyl’s entire body was clearly designed to blend into a swamp setting. Also, unless I’m mistaken, the spots where wings meet body are narrower than the others; it looks like there’s more room for movement in the front legs without wings being in the way, which would make sense given that blacks get more use out of a dragon’s amphibious nature than any other colour. The wings would be too big to really help in a swimming situation that involved the equivalent of a bayou or billabong, but imagine Umbrasyl swimming like a crocodile - wings close to his body so that only the hooked bits at various wing joints and tips show, that spiked tail and body making him look like a few water-swollen fallen trees ... the fact that their regional effects include making the plantlife in the area particularly thick and twisty, which would block more light and make him fit in better with the local vegetation really works. Also, just from the standpoint of aesthetics, his acid gland is very prominently on his short-by-comparison-to-others neck in a way that suggests a bullfrog puffing its chest out, thus drawing us back to the swamp comparison.

Thordak - Thordak’s our grey area, but honestly, when you’ve got a heart crystal jammed into you, all bets are off, probably. His wings and body habitus are closer to the ‘average’ dragon than the others, but then again, when you’re bright red and live in volcanos for preference, you’re probably not going to bother with camouflage that much. Still, it’s obvious that Thordak isn’t what the design team would have designed for the ‘average’ dragon. Some parts are - the bits that didn’t need to change, like wide broad wings designed to catch thermal updrafts, a certain amount of ‘heat vent’ (which we know is the average because Vorugal has a similar ‘power vent’ for his ice breath and he doesn’t have a heart crystal stuck in him), and a tail that’s weighted like a mace. However, I think the most telling thing about Thordak, apart from the horns that do look like a crown or a ceremonial headdress of some kind, is the range of movement in his limbs. Specifically - to date, he’s the only one of the Chroma Conclave that’s gone bipedal without shapeshifting into something naturally bipedal. He’s got one forelimb braced on a section of slightly crumbly wall, but if he put his full weight on that, it’d just collapse. That and the position of the other limbs leads me to believe that it’s something he could do. Not for long, and not without the help of the horns and tail and wings all acting as counterbalance for each other, but he doesn’t just rear up on hind legs - his shoulders (for lack of a better term) go back, and while the hip alignment wouldn’t do well with walking any distance that way, it allows him to stand almost unaided. That’s a power play, and the exact kind of power play a red would make. So I’m not sure whether that’s something red dragons as designed by this animation team can all do or if it’s something the heart crystal gave Thordak (because that requires some serious skeletal realignment, honestly, or being double-jointed to ludicrous degrees), but either way, it shows the kind of individual Thordak is - he is going to lord it over everyone, even (hell, especially) his ‘fellows’ in the Conclave.

Summary: the design team thought hard about this. And they did magnificent work.

Yeah, there will probably be more, but you wanted thoughts on the dragon design and so now you have them. Thank you for encouraging me; I have the imposter syndrome where I worry everyone wants me to shut up, and I just love poking the Jenga Tower of Logic about stuff like this.

[david-watts]

5,7,11,12 for Rory

5. will he give a speech and if so, what is it about? rory is the type of person to only give slightly drunk best man's speeches at weddings, but if it counts he Will talk your head off about cryptozoology/mythical creatures/that sort of thing

7. describe him in three words, now let him describe himself in three words; me: happy-go-lucky (that's one word fight me), reasonable, thoughtful rory: down to earth

11. what age do they most want to be right now? alright this is complex for me to answer because in that story it takes place over literal decades. he was born in 1948 and enters the story in I think 1972? so he'd be seventy-six roughly today. I'd say he probably wishes most to be fifty-four (c. 2002), because that's the year he spent searching for cryptids around the usa. trust me he thinks about other things than cryptids lmao

12. does he like romance in the books he reads? he doesn't really think about it!! he mostly reads nonfiction, although I can see him enjoying some trashy bodice-rippers now and then

thanks for asking!!

[lovevalley45]

#fictober23 day eighteen

"This better be good"

original fiction

word count: 529

Rhiannon’s palms were sweating as she sat in her grad advisor’s office. She clutched the folder in her hands - full of photographic evidence, transcriptions of her tests with Josie, various conclusions she’d drawn from them. 

It was a wild plan - trying to convince her advisor werewolves were real. Dr. Druthers was a practical woman, respected in her field before she went to teach at their university. She was honored to work with someone so renowned. If only she wasn’t about to tank that all because she’d gotten too distracted with her passion project to work on her thesis. 

Dr. Druthers opened the door and sat at her desk, sinking down into her office chair slowly. “This better be good, Ms. McGee. You of all people should know that I rarely spare time for anyone outside of pressing matters.”

“This is pressing,” Rhiannon said. “I have proof, definitive proof, that lycanthropy is real.”

The professor was silent, blinking slowly behind her own glasses. “Ms. McGee, I know that graduate school is a very stressful endeavor, but-”

Rhiannon slid her folder across the table. “I have carefully documented evidence that my roommate Josie Penn was attacked and transformed into a lycanthrope. Or werewolf, whatever your preference.”

“Is this the same roommate that made you drive her to a Mothman convention in West Virginia that caused you to sleep through one of my lectures?” Dr. Druthers asked. 

“Well, yes.” She tapped on the folder. “I mean, I always dismissed cryptids because I had no proof - and apart from lycanthropy, I’m still hesitant to admit any other supernatural beings could possibly exist. But now I have proof.”

“I see.” Dr. Druthers adjusted her glasses. “You’ve consulted the wrong professor about this.”

“The wrong professor-” Rhiannon blinked. “I-”

She started to write something down on a pad of paper. “You need to talk to Dr. Volkov in the philosophy department. He’s an oddball, but if there’s anyone who will believe you and take your story seriously, it’s him.”

“But my scientific evidence-”

“Don’t underestimate him,” Dr. Druthers said. “The only reason he’s stuck in philosophy is because the biology department doesn’t need a cryptozoologist and he has a PhD in both.”

“How the fuck do you get a PhD in cryptozoology?” Rhiannon asked. “Pardon my cussing.”

“Rhiannon, you’ve been in my classes for over half a decade. I can excuse you dropping the F-bomb once or twice.” She straightened up, sniffed. “And fuck me if I know. The dean simply assumed he acquired it online, but he’s far too educated in both for that to be the case.”

“Wow.” 

Dr. Druthers passed the note over. “I’ll warn you, Dr. Volkov is… technologically inept. If he doesn’t email you back right away, that doesn’t mean he isn’t interested. He  just… might have forgotten he has a faculty email.”

Rhiannon took the note. Her advisor had provided her his email, phone number, and where his office was, in a building she was sure she’d only stepped foot in twice during the years she’d been a student here. 

“And Ms. McGee? This side project is not an excuse to procrastinate on your thesis.”

She huffed. “I know.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

Hello Fishie, I bring my entry for you event. Mixing it up here as you see. I look forward to this. Also I'm chill with anyone in aspect. --- Shay, She/They, Assassin’s Creed, Romantic or Platonic [Whatever you feel fits]

Dear Yue Lao, I bring this letter to you with an attempt at mooncakes as well. It feels fitting to bring an offering to a god for the work you have been doing.

I do not know where to start off with this but I guess about myself to find the right pair. A lot of the time I describe myself as an intimidating and spooky person but I don’t think that’s entirely true. Yeah just because I’m tall and look tired all the time, doesn’t mean that. I think the term gentle giant is a good term for me. I'm an introverted person and don’t like to talk too much, I prefer to listen more than anything but can provide a good partner for one on one chats. I do love to talk about my interests or the thoughts that swirl up in my head as well to those who will listen. I’d like to think I’m a very loyal person and that I strive to find a connection with people to be close with. Friends say that the whole found family trope is my thing and they aren’t wrong. I can be a bit stubborn though and sometimes I don’t always admit I’m wrong, I stick to my guns but if I do find out I’m wrong I will admit it graciously. I think I struggle a bit with trying to find my place among people, sometimes I feel like a ghost and well it has its perks of being able to watch how people mingle and the world moves, it’s lonely and comes with a hollow feeling. I’d like to live a little, see places that I have always dreamed of and be human. I just want to see a thing or two before it’s too late ya know. I guess with that I would be adventurous, always willing to tackle something new and see new things. I can be a bit judgemental towards people as well, I’ve been told to trust my intuition and I let that carry me on my judgements of people or situations as well. I think some part of me is a protector, I tend to be towards my younger siblings the most and those close to me. I also want to help people, I’m always trying to help others even if it comes at the cost of losing myself in the process. I can’t help it because it feels so deeply ingrained in myself as well. I’m in the process of trying to get better as a person and it’s a journey I realized I will always be doing. I have trauma that I’m in the slow and steady process of healing from or moving on from.

I think that’s enough about me personality wise,, some of my hobbies are writing, worldbuilding, playing the occasional video game or watching stuff. I really like watching video analysis on topics that I like or occasional game plays. I really like macabre related things. I think horror counts on this but I don’t make it my whole personality. I find stuff like the history of how cultures deal with death and other stuff like that super fascinating. I can’t get enough of it. I also like history, that includes everything it comes down to because you have to be able to understand history even to its most horrible parts and not overlook it. I really do enjoy things with deep lore and worldbuilding to them, things I can get lost in with all that I can know. I realized I have a thirst for knowledge. I also love cryptozoology and parapsychology as well, I kind of like the things of the unknown or strange creatures. I like collecting plants or like little trinkets, that kind of stuff. I have a couple comic books to my name, some funko pops I blew major money on but they are my little things. I think out of all of them is the coyote skull that I have and a heirloom porcelain doll that I named Rosemary. My favorite colors are earth tones but think of the southwest desert. I love the orange reds, greens but I also like the soft browns like latte or soft teddy bear. I drink a lot of caffeine and do better on my water intake. I drink a good bit of coffee but I mostly drink monster. I think it’s also fair to say I’m addicted to music, I listen to way too much of it but I don’t think I will stop, it makes me happy. One of my favorite bands is The Crane Wives, but I also like The Oh Hellos, Set it Off, Glass Animals, Hozier, Starset, Florence + The Machine and IDKHOW. I have interests in playing the bass guitar and maybe the drums. Believe it or not, I like going out into nature so like camping or hiking, it’s one of my favorite things to do. I also like going places I inherently shouldn't, so going to explore abandoned places reclaimed by the earth and taking pictures of places I go as well. My favorite animal is the mountain lion/puma. They are just something else and so pretty. I would love to give one a hug but I would cease to exist. I’m also a witch, while I don’t have constant practice I have something. It’s why I label myself a chaos witch because my craft is chaotic. I have a couple of gods I worship, two are Danu and Arwarn of the celtic pantheon and I’m looking into Odin as well.

I realized what I have put down is quite a bit and I hope it’s not overdoing anything. Thank you again Yue Lao for the chance to send this out to see what it brings me back. I’m curious who it will bring me in turn. I have left some personal offerings to manifest to someone, but the mooncakes are exclusive for you.

~ 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓎

[The handwritten letter on lined paper is neatly placed on top of the container of mooncakes tied by a red string. Underneath the container is a slightly larger box that contains offers. Inside the box are personal things. There is a broken silver stop watch with the engravings of a duck flying over a marsh, a broken off antler from a mule deer, a handful of colorful polished rocks (they range in deep blues with browns, a couple of crystals are among them like tiger’s eye, labradorite and opal.), the tarot card of the lovers, a handful of incense that smell like rain and dragon’s blood, a couple of assorted feathers and a handful of caramel candies.]

[Disclaimer: The Red String of Fate event is a special event I'm running from August 12th, to whenever I feel it necessary to end - right now, I'm giving it to the first week of September! Check out rules HERE]

[AN: must've stared at my screen for a straight hour trying to figure out who to put you with. VERY OOC bc i,,,, this is way more than I expected lmfao]

In the sweet smelling flower garden under the light of the moon sits the God of marriage and love, listening to the sound of the stream as it trickles through his patch of land. He's more than pleased at the not too sweet taste of the mooncakes, and the way the silver stop watch reflects the light of the moon. He ends up attaching the thing to Bao's collar, letting her be adorned with something pretty. He's sure he'll find it in her little 'temple' sooner rather than later. The stars twinkle in the sky on this blessed night. Surely, Dou Mu Niang Niang and her many children are happy this evening if they are shining this brightly. Yue Lao feels as if he can hear their laughter because he can see their smiles all those many miles away in the upper heavens glowing as they ought to.

The antler and the lovely stones alongside crystals all find their way to his koi pond, or around it to give the colorful, large fish some company. He believes that their enrichment has been well satisfied for the day, but allowed them to take pieces of mooncake that are not harmful to their health despite them being immortal fish. He hums softly, fingers delicately tracing the feathers wondering what to do with them. He decides to keep them in his pocket, perhaps a tool for later use. The tarot card does not originate from his culture, but he smiles regardless. He takes note of the style of art, recognizing it as western, modern, he'd expect to see it on Procreate, not from the scrolls one of his many equals would use to create the universe itself. You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you? He sighs dreamily, remembering the feeling of sweet, innocent love whenever he sees soulmates meet for the first time. Whether they be platonic or romantic, he adores the feeling all the same.

The God lights the incense to join him in the garden as he reads over his book of names, which ones are connected by threads, which ones were destined to be without, and which ones have multiple. He rests his head in his hand as his eyes search before some feeling deep within tells him to look back further. Further? How could that be? He thinks as he thumbs the pages to decades ago, further and further back. These people are all long gone, and the person whose name he is consistently drawn to does not even belong to his afterlife. Different culture have different belief systems, and those people go with the Gods most relevant in their waking lives. The man who he knows was always meant to be yours... He takes in a sharp breath and feels the feathers in his pocket.

What an odd, odd predicament the God has found himself in. Would he really ask such a question like this? Could it be done? He clicked his tongue a few times, asking for Bao to come over from her small temple in the gardens and join him. He writes a letter to the Jade Emperor, speaking of his slight predicament. The soulmate of someone who prayed to him, asked for his guidance, is from another time period. And while he will not ask that man's deities to rouse him from his eternal rest, he will ask for his permission to appeal to the 60 Tai Sui, or gods of time, to ask for such a risky favor. Bao takes the letter into her mouth, and Yue Lao sends her up to the upper heavens, watching as she disappears through Zhinu's expertly woven clouds that reflect the most brilliant of jade to rest on the steps of the Jade Palace itself.

Bao is greeted sweetly by the Jade Emperor's court ladies and gentlemen, many of them reaching down to pet the soft creature. They compliment her on the silver stop watch that hangs from her neck and guide her to the Jade Emperor's throne where he sits in conversation with his elder daughters. She knows she must act quickly, for a day in the upper heavens is a year on earth. She pushes past the way the Jade Emperor's daughters lovingly call for her remembering she's here on her God's official business and sits politely at the foot of his throne as he smiles at her. The Jade Emperor invites her up to his lap, chuckling as she remains her formal posture. His jeweled hand gently pets the top of her head, fingers brushing through her soft fur as she purrs before his attention shifts to the letter in her mouth.

The Jade Emperor gently asks for his daughters to give them space for a clearly private matter, and after they give their love to Bao once more, they depart from their father's presence. The Jade Emperor's dark eyes scan over the contents before a caramel candy drops out onto his lap. Bao nudges it with her little pink nose for him to enjoy before he pops it into his mouth. As he reads, he wonders if such a thing has ever been done before. Dealing with other pantheons can be a little difficult, not because there is any animosity, but out of respect for everyone's vastly different beliefs and understanding that Gods in the presence of Gods is well, difficult for bureaucracy. He thinks the notion over a few times. He knows that love understands no boundaries, and that Yue Lao is meant to keep up with his heavenly duty of making matches. How odd that this one spans eras in history. The Jade Emperor writes back a note to Yue Lao and sends allows Bao to take the letter back to him while he works on speaking to the Tai Sui to see if such a thing can be done. He watches as Bao floats down from the upper heavens back to Yue Lao. What an interesting business it must be to preside over marriage and love.

Yue Lao, once receiving approval from all 60 of the Tai Sui, finds himself pleased that he's able to do perhaps the easiest part of his job. He's spoken about it to the deities of fate, you leaving this era will not be detrimental, but it still needs to be agreed upon by all parties. So, how is this done? Through dreams. It was an almost awkward conversation with the Chuangshen, a married deity couple, but they understood. He would connect your strings with the blessing of the Tai Sui, and finally reveal your soulmate status to one another. The red string he was using for the two of you is ancient, hardly used anymore due to the power it holds. It looks classic, and there appears nothing outwardly special about it from a quick glance. But it's woven in a braid, something unbreakable and can withstand the distances between the edges of the universe. It's the same string he's placed on Chang'e and Hou Yi, the same string he's used on the cowherd and weaver girl.

One end is attached to you, where you sit in your room watching the rain and listen to music wondering if he's heard your prayer. It's been a few months, and there was no response for the first few days. You wonder if he cares, or if he's forgotten, but the heavens move so much slower than life on earth. A minute is a month, and so on. The other end bypasses the laws of the universe itself, connecting to a man in colonial America by the born name of Ratonhnhaké:ton, given name Connor, who's been well established as an Assassin in the brotherhood. He's never really thought of love, not like this at least. Women, men, they've never really appealed to him. He's always just assumed he's been waiting for the right person.

When the string materializes on his pinky, he's more than confused. He mistakes it for something evil, but the pull that seems to lead to somewhere out of this world - he knows it's not malicious. He plays with the thing, tugging at it, wondering just where on earth it's leading to as it drips down from the heavens to his hand. It's a beautiful braid, a bright shade of red, but the only heartbeat attached to it seems to be his. You don't exist yet, you're still up there in the heavens, dreaming, but he doesn't know that. He's brought it up to quite a few people on the homestead and no one can really answer it. They think he's seeing things, but he knows otherwise. Whatever's attached here, it's something good, something he's been waiting for his entire life and he just can't have it yet.

It's rare that the two of you even sleep at the same time. With his work as an Assassin, and you finding waking refuge in the night, the Chuangshen are not able to work their magic. Not yet. But when they do, oh it's marvelous. They open a gateway somewhere in the astral that surpasses time itself with your red string acting as a bridge. You're no stranger to the astral and follow the thing like it's nothing. When you saw your string lead upwards towards the heavens, you'd assumed that Yue Lao played a cruel trick on you, but the sight of a cat with a silver stop watch gracing her neck tells you otherwise. He wouldn't hurt you.

Your red string begins to pull a bit as you move through the cloudy, jade colored place. The Chuangshen clearly have their favorite type of setting, don't they? But after they see the slight anxiety roll off both your forms, the place begins to shift. Pines begin to spring up from the stone floor, dirt, streams, the slowly rising sun on an early autumn morning while hills roll out in the distance followed by the sounds of birds native to the east coast of America sing to fill the air. This is all a dream, but you can tell the god and goddess are attempting to make the place more favorable for who you know is your soulmate and you. It's almost like they've given you a hiking path for the two of you to get acquainted. You find yourself naturally drawn to a large overlook where a waterfall cascades partway down. It looks like there's gold in the water as the rising sun hits it ever so perfectly. There's salmon trying to swim upstream, fighting strongly against the current. The haunting calls of elk bellow out in the distance followed by the soft foot falls of much smaller creatures scurrying along the earth in the deep foliage.

You rest at the overlook, sit down and take in the view. It's a little chilly, but nothing you can't handle. Your red string is shining brighter than the early morning sun that just barely peeks over the mountainous horizon. They're close. You can feel them. You don't turn your head over your shoulder when another figure comes behind you, but you don't feel threatened by them. They feel warm, a tad confused, but they understand you're the reason they're here in their dreams.

"May I join you?" A soft voice asks not making a move until you give your approval.

You nod. "Of course." You feel the presence of a much larger man sitting down beside you, his knee just barely rubbing against yours. Your red string is fluttering along with your heart. Slowly, you turn your gaze to look at him.

He's beautiful, he really is. Dark brown eyes, a strong build, a soft smile that seems almost shy to be in your presence. His face doesn't look relaxed, not one bit. He seems to be scanning the situation, mind always on the run even though he's physically at rest. The things he wearing tell you he's not from your time period, and nor are you from his. That's why the string lead upwards. He finally smiles at you once he catches your almost lost gaze and holds his hand out to you, the loop that Yue Lao has gifted him left in the shape of half a heart. You smile back and rest your hand atop his and take in a deep breath.

"Are you cold?" He asks as he squeezes your much smaller hand in his.

You shake your head but lean into his side regardless. "No," you murmur, "but this is nice and I'm not sure how long we'll be here for."

Ratonhnhaké:ton chuckles despite him not being used to such physical affection. He feels at ease with you. "Let's enjoy it while it lasts."

[gwens-fiction]

No Title Yet

So the below is a short snippet of something that’s probably going to lead to a new wip. Don’t know longer wip details yet, but I’m liking it.

Genre: cryptozoology??

Rating: Teen/young adult??

Tag list: @insert-meaningful-username @zoya-writes @papercutsunset

Finally, after counting the days for what felt like forever, summer vacation was finally here. Sydney vibrated in her seat in excitement, glancing over at her brother in the driver’s seat. All year she waited to be able to go on this trip with him, and finally it was here.

She loved this trip. Every year they would go up to his woodland property and camp out, setting up camera traps, foraging, and looking for anything weird the woods may pop up with.

This summer was going to be THE summer. She knew it. They were going to see something really cool, maybe even a Bigfoot!

"So you’ll be happy to know I got more cameras for this year," Ryan then said, glancing back at her. "Like, a whole box worth."

"Have you seen anything cool recently?"

"Nah, I haven’t been out here since this past winter. Too busy with work and all. But hey! It’s just more for us to check out together, right?"

Sydney smiled and nodded at this. She had missed him since he had moved away after finishing college, but that just made summer break even more special. It was their time to catch up…And maybe get some cryptid evidence together if they were lucky, or at least some cute animal pictures.

A few hours later, the two were unloading Ryan's small SUV at a small cabin. Sydney carried her bags inside before going back to assist with Ryan's too. Anything to help speed this along so they could get to the fun stuff.

"Hey, I’m going to go get the grill fired up. If you want, you can go check out the cameras upstairs. Maybe double check they all have their memory cards and batteries or if we need to get some from town tomorrow." He nodded at her, grabbing a pack of hotdog weenies from a cooler. "We'll have to get some groceries tomorrow anyway."

"Oh yeah, I can do that!" She dropped the duffle in her arms onto the couch and took off up the stairs. She peeked into the different rooms, a couple bedrooms and a bathroom. Somehow this cabin felt smaller than she remembered, but it was enough for what they needed it for.

Sydney went over to the closet of the first bedroom and drug out a cardboard box full of trail cameras. "Wow, he really hit the jackpot. Wonder where he got all these."

Sitting the box on the bed to look through, she glances around the room for anything else interesting. Alas, nothing else catches her attention to she returned to her mission at hand: preparing the cameras for their upcoming adventures.

This was going to be a great summer vacation. She didn’t know why, but she just knew. This was going to be special.

[lilypixels]

Izzy’s Dag-Dag The Artist… Tag

By @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

~ Rules ~

Show us a rendition of yourself in your own art! Can be anything! Sims render? Random stick figure? Picrew? Go nuts! (Just be sure to tag the artist if you use someone else’s picrew!!!!) Tag the blogs you want to know, and don’t be a dick that’s it! Also, feel free to answer as vague or in-depth as you want. And if you don’t want to answer a question for any reason just don’t vibe with it! Skip it if you wanna! Also make sure you tag me and use #dagdagtheartisttag so I can see it!!!!!!!!

This is a bit long so i’m just gonna...

~Questions~

1.) Do you prefer to be referred to by your name or blog name? Both are fine! I don’t care much about what people refer to me as in general and have had someone on here call me lily once

2.) Where are you from? I won’t say exact, but I live in the middle of USA (I can’t wait to move-)

3.) Do you have pets? 👀 Yes! 3 dogs and 2 cats, tho only one cat is truly “mine”

4.) Tell us about your “dream”. uhh like where I want to be in life? what I want to do? um I’m still working on the exact job title, but I wish to do research at a natural history/science museum (sorta like archives or collections manager, but neither of those are quite right i think). Otherwise, I just hope to adopt and even foster kids cause my life would not be complete without little ones :3 (spouse/partner optional lol) 

5.) Aside from art, what are your hobbies? Randomly researching things that grasp my attention, games...lots of games, reading, watching tv, coloring (wait does that count as art-), uhhh spacing out

6. )Does anyone irl know about your blog? yeah, but mostly just know about, not like see my posts i guess

7.)Do you know anyone from your blog irl? not outside of just chatting on discord

8.) What are some fun facts about you? I’ve had some poems published before (it was with entering a poetry contest), I have surprisingly good balance, my brain is not properly awake/functioning until 10am which has led to me almost using soap as toothpaste a few times too many, I have a birthmark on my finger (bonus: it sorta changes color/how noticeable it is depending on how hot or cold I am lol, i call it a mini thermometer cause of this), apparently Lion King was my Disney movie obsession as a kid...oh and I have a certificate in cryptozoology lolz

9.) What’s your day job? i work as a private nanny/glorified babysitter (i don’t live with them or drive but work regular hours through week and as needed; even join the occasional vacation with them)

10.) Do you have a celebrity look alike? i don’t think so; a girl in high school once said I look like Cameron Diaz tho-

11.) What’s your aesthetic? for my blog I think it’s becoming like dark academia meets cottage core?? idk for myself...who knows

12.) What kind of artist are you? the tired kind lol

13.) How did you get into your form of art? if we’re looking at sims, uhhh well I just happened to learn about cc one day, then happened upon simblr, saw edits, and thought I’d give a try cause I can’t draw but I need a creative outlet so this worked for me

14.) What do you watch/listen/read/anything else while you create? if I do anything, its listen to music; music is generally random based on what I feel like but more recently its been 2d anime groups (idolish7, hypnosis mic, etc)

15.) What is your favorite of your own creations so far?  lets see...this, this, and this edit wise I think

16.) How would you describe your art style? idk chaos

17.) What is more satisfying to you coloring or outlining? coloring, I like coloring 

18.) What meme would you use to describe yourself?

19.) What character from any media form do you most identify with? oh gosh uhhhh there’s a few but I’ll say Iori and Sogo from Idolish7 since they come to mind first lol. Iori is a fellow aquarius who hides his interests and agonizes over past slipups even a year later, others have legit moved on but he’s still stuck on it (that was true moment I was like “omg you are aquarius” lol cause yeah meee). Sogo i heavily relate to as well cause he’s,,,very nice and hides his own feelings, putting others before himself (but when right buttons get pushed, he can be scary lol) so yeah, those two

20.) If you were on the run, what would you change your name to? I’ve never thought of this...no clue

21.) Have you ever or do you want to change blog names? I have changed names, yes; I used to be silverine-sims but after a time i didn’t ~vibe~ with it

22.) God forbid Tumblr decides to pull a MySpace and lets us have page songs, what song would you choose?  page songs like adding playlist to blog? i mean its possible already with bit of coding and I used to have one set up but uh one song huh? gosh um I guess Twisted Hearts by tasuku hatanaka; it was op for Moriarty the Patriot s2 and I’m pretty obsessed with it rn 

23.) Oh yeah, I’m still on the MySpace train and I’m starting discourse! Who’s your top 8? my brain refuses to think and rank; i have trouble with choices and that extends to favorites,,

24.) Did you understand those references or did you have to look them up? (I’m fully aware I’m ancient, but are you?) i know of myspace but otherwise i have no clue what all it entailed

25.) One last question; why are you like that? I grew up watching Secret Saturdays, He-Man, Teen Titans, Danny Phantom, and Spongebob idk what to tell ya ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Dag dag?

Now tag tag!!!

I know not all of you will do this or was tagged by izzy already but I’m tagging everyone I can think of anyway-

@cyansimblr @neriney @lunchsims @waysims @klayde @sinfulwunders @void-imp @ladykendalsims @lazysunjade @almost-spring @smolteabirb @lunaziie @clumsyghostie​ and uh uh anyone else cause its too early and my brain just quit

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet uglies, 41, Sternclay, NSFW?

Here you go! And if you're a fan on "Let me be good to you" this has very similar vibes.

41: I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

Stern blames the playlist he had on at work for the fact his morning devolves into chaos. He works better to the blues (or 2000s pop hits, but those don’t feel right when going over files on suspicious incidents in Appalachia). So he hums as he rinses the remnants of his workout down the drain. He’d never sing where someone can hear, but since no one is here.

I want a little steam on my clothes

Maybe I could fix things up so they'll go

What's the matter daddy, come on, save my soul

He goes to rinse his hair and realizes the song is still going.

I need some sugar in my bowl, I ain't foolin'

I want some sugar in my bowl

His lizard brain yells two separate messages; “baritone voice very hot” and “oh god who’s there.”

The second message leaps into the driver seat and, in his attempt to turn, peer out of the stall, and be sure it’s just another patron, his foot finds the traces of soap on the floor.

“Shit” He falls backwards out of the stall, thudding to the floor.

“Oh fuck.” A man emerges two stalls to his left, soaking wet and flailing for a towel, “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so used to singing along with the radio. Are you okay?”

Joseph scans his body, finds nothing broken, “Yes.”

“Thank god.” The other man flicks shaggy hair from his face. In the split second before he gets the towel around his waist, Joseph’s gym manners fail him and he glances down. At least he’s getting several weeks worth of masturbation fodder from this humiliating moment.

“Here man, lemme help you up.”

Joseph takes the offered hand, then grits his teeth and swiftly turns to grab his own towel from where he hung it. He’d rather not show a stranger his ass, but this is how his night is going. As he turns back, he spots the other man quickly redirecting his stare from his ass to the floor.

Once both showers are off, Joseph changes and packs his bag. The stranger is at the mirror, tying his hair back and combing his beard.

“I’m sorry, my singing probably startled you too.”

A shrug of broad shoulders, “I work in kitchens, I’m so used to background noise some of it barely registers. And I always have the radio on when it’s just me in the mornings.”

“Hence the singing along?”

“Yeah, and why I’m here so early. I try to get my exercise in before work. Gotta admit, when I joined this gym I didn’t expect anyone else would be in for a 2 a.m workout.”

“My hours are all over the place. I’m with the FBI and when I’m on a case I tend to, um, lose track of time. Or work way later than I should.” He shoulders his bag, raises his hand in a wave, “it was nice meeting you. Even it was alarming at first.”

“Same to you” the man smiles at him over his shoulders, “and if you’re ever here at zero dark thirty again and want a gym buddy, I’m happy to keep you company.”

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

It’s a month before Joseph runs into him again. He swipes his card at the gym, finds the clank of a weight rack in place of the usual silence. The man from the showers smiles at him as he puts his bag near medicine balls, and when he’s done with his set he crosses the 80s-colored carpet to join him.

“It’s much nicer to see you when I can see you coming.” Joseph smiles politely, not catching his own subtext until the other man blushes.

“No kidding. I, uh, this may sound weird, but could I work-out with you? I’ve been doing the same routine for years because it’s what I know, but it gets so fucking boring.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company, though be warned that I do a lot of core and don’t use the machines all that much.”

“Totally fine. I’m, uh, I’m Barclay, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Joseph pictures twisting it behind his back while pinning him over one of the benches.

Instead, he shakes it, “Joseph.”

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

“I’m serious about skipping this if you need to” Joseph starts up the treadmill as Barclay jogs on the one beside him, “if you’re on your feet all day at work this could make that really uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

It’s the truth; he may not be as in-shape as Joseph, but he’s still pretty fit, and they only do thirty minutes of running. But it’s equally true that he’d rather suffer some extra-sore legs than lose out on a half-hour of his limited time with his friend.

He’d been hoping for someone to spot him and maybe teach him some new lower body exercises, with the added bonus of having some basic things (like music taste and bonkers work schedules) in common. What he’s gotten is someone with a dorky sense of humor, and extensive knowledge of cryptozoology and mystery novels, and the stamina to make engaging conversation about those things while running or working a rowing machine.

It helps that Joseph is so hot that he could caramelize sugar just by looking at it. The glimpses he caught of him when they met were tantalizing; the way his dark hair gradually loosens from it’s gelled state, the way his cheeks turn pink when flushed and sweating, the few times his voice turns truly breathless? Barclay is ready to get on his knees and beg for him to do obscene things in the locker rooms.

What makes this desire impossible to shake is the suspicion that it’s shared. He’s caught Joseph looking at him in a way that isn’t just about his form, and when he shows Barclay a new exercise he stands closer and lingers longer than strictly necessary. And his Freudian slips are so frequent and obvious they may as well be Freudian nightgowns.

Just when he thinks Joseph can’t get any hotter, the agent texts him around their three month mark of working out together warning that he’ll be late. When he arrives, Barclay drops the five pound plate he was moving.

Joseph hasn’t changed clothes. He’s in a full, black suit, shined shoes, and a silver and blue tie that Joseph wants him to take off and loop around Barclays throat instead. The agent smiles with a promise to be right back, seems bemused when he returns to find Barclay in the exact spot and position he left him.

“You okay, big guy?” The nickname is one of the many ways he built a home for himself in Barclays daydreams.

“Uh. Uh, yeah, sorry, got lost in thought. I haven’t started on the full workout, did some extra stretching since I’m kinda tight from yesterday. You wanna do weights first?”

“Sure.”

Their routine lasts about an hour. It’s an act of god that Barclay gets through it unscathed. Joseph is even more hands-on than usual, and his cologne (bergamot and citrus, if Barclay has his scents right) hasn’t had a chance to fade. The most distracting element of the whole morning is his friend’s voice; there’s an edge to it, like a knife in a velvet sheath, and Joseph gives fewer suggestions and more orders.

Barclay wants him to sound like this forever. But only if he can rearrange his life so that he can follow every command.

After a very cold shower, he falls in next to Joseph as they push through the double doors into the warm night. When he reaches his car, the other man touches his cheek.

“Drive safe, big guy.”

He wonders if Joseph can feel him blush in the dark, “I will, agent. I promise.”

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

“I told them to get those dark spots checked” Joseph shakes his head at the notice on the door informing them the gym will be closed for the next two weeks to repair massive water damage in the ceiling.

“I’m just bummed I won’t get to work out with you. It’s not as fun alone in my apartment.”

“You could come over to mine, if we can find a time where it works.”

“I’d love to.”

Barclay double checks that the address on the apartment in front of him matches the one Joseph sent, while trying not to fixate on the text that came with it.

Joseph: Be ready, big guy, I’m going to work you hard

He knocks on the designated door, pushes it open when Joseph calls for him to come in. There’s a yoga mat on the floor and a stationary bike in the corner, and far too little space for two grown men to work out together.

“Do you want me to help move the couch? That might give us...more...room.”

Joseph, in his full suit and dress shoes, leans against the kitchen doorway with a confident smile.

“Y-you’re not working out with me, are you?” Barclay’s hopes hurry to the front of his brain, tripping up his tongue.

“No. I did mine earlier today.” He runs a finger along Barclay’s chest, “I designed a special one, just for you. If you get through it all, you get a reward.”

“What kind?”

Joseph leans in to kiss him softly and swiftly, “I’ll let you fuck me.”

Barclay’s hands fly out to grips his shoulders as he groans, “fuck, babe, really?”

“Really. But first, you have to pick two things from this list.” He hands Barclay a sheet of memo paper with a neatly written list of the lewdest exercises he’s ever seen. He’d offer to do all of them, but then he might not have enough energy to enjoy his reward.

“The, uh, the push ups and the crunches.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Please?”

“Okay, big guy, we’ll do those. Get on the mat, push up position.”

Barclay hurriedly obeys. Freshly shined shoes step onto the top edge of the mat.

“We’ll just do thirty today. I’ll count. Ready?”

He nods.

“Good boy. Down, one”

Barclay bends his elbows, only stopping when his lips touch the top of Joseph’s shoes. He holds there a two-count, then rises.

“Down, two.”

He repeats the motion, keeps time with Joseph’s count as a hint of polish curls into his nose. It should be boring, maybe even degrading, but fuck him if it isn’t the hottest fucking thing he’s done in years. Joseph is so put together, so poised, Barclay feels like an unkempt beast next to him in his gym clothes. Yet he’s letting him kiss his lovingly shined shoes, telling him he’s a good boy as he works up a sweat.

“Down, thirty.” Joseph joins him on the floor as Barclay sits back on his heels, “well done. Now, on your back please.”

Barclay lays down. Joseph grabs a silver item from the side table and holds it in front of him. It takes his lust-glazed brain a second to grasp it’s a cock cage.

“Can I put this on you? You’ll have to wear it the rest of the workout.”

“Ohfuckplease.”

Joseph leans forward enough to kiss his chest, then shifts his shorts down to his thighs and locks the cage into place.

“If you need to stop, just say red. Okay?”

He nods frantically.

“Okay?” Joseph repeats with a stern look.

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” Joseph lifts his legs and sets them over his left shoulder. Barclay whimpers as there’s a snap of a latex glove and a pop of lube. Joseph smirks as Barclay whines at his teasing touches.

“Two sets, forty each. Go ahead and count in your head.”

“Okay” He curls his body, only gets through two more crunches before a finger presses in. “fuck!”

“Focus, big guy.” Joseph kisses his knee.

“I am, I’m focusing on the fact you’re a fucking genius.”

“If you lose count, you’ll have to start over” he presses in the second finger, “and that means longer until your reward.”

“I’m, I’m on twenty!”

A kiss to his calf, “Keep going.”

By the time he hits the second “forty” his legs are burning and Joseph is stretching his ass open with three fingers. He pulls them free but keeps Barclays legs in place, tugs the glove off and removes a blue, silicone plug from his jacket pocket . It slides in comfortably, but Barclay whimpers his name all the same.

“You’re doing so well Barclay. Are you ready to keep being my good boy?”

“Yes, please yes.”

Joseph sets his legs on the floor, guides him to his knees so he can pull his shorts up, and then helps him to his feet, pausing to kiss him sweetly and run his lips along his neck.

“Twenty minutes on the bike. Whatever speed you like.”

Barclay eases himself onto the seat, starts pedaling and watches longingly as Joseph heads into the kitchen saying he'll be back in a minute. The plug isn’t too uncomfortable to sit on, so this should be a breeze.

He hunches forward with a moan as it starts vibrating. Joseph strides back into the room, remote control in hand, only stopping to give Barclay another kiss and run his fingers through his hair before dropping onto the couch.

“Let me know when you’re done.” He picks up a copy of Empire and starts reading, heedless of Barclay’s increasingly loud moans.

The vibrator starts and stops, sometimes a gentle buzz and sometimes a furious pulse, and Barclay fights to keep the pedals going under the onslaught, desperate not to lose time and eager to please the man stealing tender, hungry glances at him from the couch.

“Time” He gasps, pulling his feet free from the pedals. Joseph is up and to him before his legs have a chance to wobble. Once he’s on the couch, shirt soaked with sweat, Joseph straddles him and kisses him demandingly, mouth moving from lips to cheek to neck without a care for sweat.

“Will you be a good boy and let me get off on you?”

“You know I fuckin will, fuck, babe, wanna be so fuckin good for youAH, ohgod” He throws his arms around Joseph, clinging and groping as he grinds on the cage and the aching cock within it.

“You look so good like this big guy, exhausted and obedient for me.”

“Yes, yesyes all for you, Joseph, please cum on me.”

“I will baby, don’t worry.” He brushes their lips together, “do you want some more kisses while I do.”

“Uhhuh” He whines, the noise only growing as Joseph kisses him and works his hips recklessly, his hands slipping up Barclays shirt to squeeze his pecs and toy with his nipples. When the tempo of his jerking hips changes, Barclay holds him tighter, needing to feel the way his body tenses and shudders as he cums more than he’s needed anything in his life.

“There” Joseph grins, panting, and pulls the key to the cage from his breast pocket, “now you can have your reward.” He slides to the floor, yanking Barclays shorts with him on the way. The cock cage hits the carpet and then a wet, enthusiastic mouth swallows him almost to the root.

“Ohfuck, Joseph, babe I’m gonna cum in like two seconds you, you might wanna-”

The agent pulls off, lazily licking the head, “I don’t want cum on the carpet, big guy. So be a good boy and cum down my throat.”

He gets exactly three and a half ecstatic thrusts into Joseph’s mouth before his orgasm knocks the breath from him and he cums, moaning out thanks as he does. When he’s spilled the last of it, Joseph sits back, breathing deep and wiping his lips.

“J-joseph? Will you, uh, will you kiss me again?”

The other man clambers into his lap, bitter taste on his tongue when Barclay glides his own against it. When he finally stops to breathe, Joseph pets his beard.

“Was all that okay?”

“So fucking okay. It was incredible. I, I feel so fucking good. Sweaty, but good.”

A kiss on the cheek, “Shower is just down that hall. Go get clean while I order dinner.”

“Okay.” Barclay looks at him with dreamy hope, “do you, uh, wanna do this again sometime?”

“Often. If, um, if that’s okay with you?”

Barclay nods, “as long as we can still work out together? I like doing that with you.”

“Of course, big guy.”

[joonkorre]

@drarrymicrofic prompt: remake

not gonna say much on this. yall should find out what's going on yourselves :D. ao3

“What do you think, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco doesn’t need to think; he’s done enough of that in the past two months, since the day he opened his front door to see the strange woman’s sharp smile. But he thinks anyway, one last time before he answers.

He’d have to leave the wizarding world behind. Of course, it doesn’t have to be that drastic. However, if he doesn’t want his frequent disappearances to catch the Ministry’s attention, then it’s best to withdraw into the Muggle world altogether, as far from its control as possible. Mother has Aunt Andy, Teddy, and friends from her book club now, she’ll be fine with him visiting only a few days each year.

Other than that, there are no downsides. He has nothing to lose except maybe his life somewhere down the line, but everybody dies at some point, don’t they?

He lifts his gaze to the buzzing light on the ceiling, its shine cold and apathetic. To the mahogany bookcase, filled with tomes upon tomes full of ancient rites and rituals, of creatures considered ‘cryptid’ even to wizardkind. To the bookend that is shaped like a crow, which flaps its wings when its beak is tapped five times, unlocking the hidden safe behind the bookcase. The safe that stores all the actual research and data he’s collected, jealously and fearfully hoarded.

He doesn’t know everything, but he knows enough. He knows enough to be aware that the lore Pansy snorted at when he first mentioned them, the creatures Mother dismissed as another of her bored rich son’s new obsessions, are the same ones Unspeakable Granger narrowed her eyes at when she walked past his table in the canteen and caught a glimpse of his notes. He had a feeling then that he shouldn’t even make any indication that he was interested in these things, which was proven to be correct when Ministry personnel started loitering outside his office more after that day.

He doesn’t know everything, but he knows his findings are not safe in anyone’s hands but his. The Ministry still repeats its tendency to care more about itself than the common people. The Department of Mystery, practically its own entity due to how even the Minister is forbidden from accessing most of its files, has motivations he can’t comprehend, which means motivations he can’t predict. There is no way to know if his colleagues are truly interested in “that old wife’s tale, that Bigfoot, Cthulhu shite Malfoy’s into” or will report him to those who know how to deal with him, to Unspeakable Granger, to the Department of Mysteries. His findings are not safe in anyone’s hand but his.

But if he says ‘yes,’ they are.

Draco dips his quill in the ink bottle the woman—“Dr. Stewart,” she’s introduced, calm and sure—provided him and signs his name on the contract and its related documents. No hint of anything other than indifference is shown on her face, and he wonders how many others before him has she recruited.

Once his thumbprint has been collected, the last step of the process, he Vanishes the ink on his finger. Dr. Stewart raises a brow but says nothing more. She stands up, holding out a hand.

“Welcome, Dr. Malfoy. The SCP Foundation is glad to have you with us.”

Shaking her hand, Draco feels something slide into place at his new title. He smiles politely, heart thundering in his chest.

“Have you worked with wizards before, Dr. Stewart?” Draco asks as he starts packing the valuables at his work desk into his briefcase. Dr. Steward has come to the Ministry by Floo, and though she seemed a bit disconcerted after stepping out of the Ministry Public Floo #13, she didn’t hesitate to follow him to his office. Thus, seeing her reaction to a simple Vanishing spell has certainly been a bit strange.

Dr. Steward gathers the documents to secure in a folder.

“My colleagues have—some of them have Muggleborn and Halfblood relatives—but not me personally,” she answers. “My apologies, I still need to get used to seeing magic in… this way. Ironically, we have more luck with magic users from other dimensions than from our own, especially with what happened in recent history.”

The Second Wizarding War ended barely a decade ago. Its victims, both people and nature, still bleed. “I can see why you aren’t very keen on interacting with us up-close these days,” Draco nods, careful.

“Precisely,” Dr. Stewart says. “So, believe it when I say you’re the exception.”

Draco stiffens. “Thank you. I’m sorry, it’s still a bit hard to, ah, believe that.”

“You are the exception,” she says. “We need professionals in the occult, especially those who dabbled in the Dark Arts along with other types of magic. Not many wizards of your kind in Great Britain remember the Original Gods and Old Magic, but you have that link, whether it be through honest religious belief or just intensive research.”

She crosses her legs. “We’ve had our eyes on you for a while, Dr. Malfoy. We need someone who’s willing to look for the oddity in the mundane, and when our people heard rumours of the infamous Malfoy heir having a—highly accurate, by the way—fixation on conspiracy theories and cryptozoology, visiting various parts of the world in pursuit of those ‘tall tales,’ we knew we need your intellect.”

Draco doesn’t quite know what to say. He was sure everybody thought him unhinged; even Luna seemed off around him these days instead of enthusiastically rallying after his theories like she usually would, gradually gravitating toward Granger whenever they’re in the same room.

“Our goals are different; the SCP Foundation wants to keep humanity safe and alive, you want knowledge and just knowledge. But I hope you find yourself in your element while working with us, finally having access to all the information you’ve been working so hard to find out.”

She tilts her head just so, and Draco can tell she knows he likes what he’s hearing. His thirst consumes him, makes him risk, makes him sin. He has to go insane to stay sane. Despite the small price of most likely dying from working with dangerous anomalies at the Foundation no matter how pretty Dr. Stewart advertises it, every cell in his body sings at the chance to know what is lurking beyond the folds of reality.

He thinks of Mother, of Aunt Andy, of little Teddy, of Pansy, of Blaise. The vision of them killed, maimed, snapped from existence because he didn’t do anything to help makes his gut twist, his throat parched. He’d kill himself from the guilt, a well-casted Sectumsempra. He decides.

His goal is no different than the Foundation’s from now on, and he has no qualms about that. With this opportunity, he is free at last, free to do the work he knows is important, to help and change without outside interference.

He is reborn.

Draco’s back straightens, and he moves his wand this way and that, orchestrating a cacophony of tomes and devices to levitate from the heavy bookshelves to the duffle bag he brought along.

“Dr. Malfoy, did I not tell you where you’ll be stationed?”

Draco halts the objects’ action mid-air, staring at Dr. Stewart.

“I was under the impression that I am to be working at Site-91,” he says, “in Yorkshire?”

“As I thought, I forgot something,” Dr. Stewart sighs, the first sign of human imperfection leaking through. She searches through her briefcase, long nails clicking through the files. “Sit down, please, and there’s no need to pack up your belongings.”

Sending the objects back to their original places, Draco takes his seat, brows furrowed. He toys with his wand, a tick he hasn’t been able to be rid of ever since Potter’s returned his wand after years of what seemed to be perpetual emptiness without it.

“There we go,” Dr. Stewart says and flips open a thick, stapled stack of paper. “You are to stay here for the duration of your first assignment. Count yourself lucky, starting work right away.”

“Stay here? But—”

“There is an anomalous individual working here,” she says, hard lines etched on her face. “You will act like you’ve not changed your career and continue to ‘work’ in the Ministry. Because of your proximity, we expect you to gather as much information as possible about him. You can use any method, as long as you stay alive and well to report back to us and receive your salary. Not to worry, we will assist you as this individual is, like most of what we deal with, deadly when pushed.”

She slides the file toward him and settles back against her chair. Draco is admittedly no less surprised than before.

“Wake up and get ready by 6 AM this Saturday, for we’ll come to get you at your house and go to Site-91. There are other information and protocols you need to know, and you’ll also get the equipment suited for this assignment,” Dr. Stewart adds.

Draco has a few questions, but from the way she ends with a close-mouthed smile, he reckons any at all would be regarded as idiotic. Well, at least she told him something.

With a slight sigh, he opens the file. The peculiar layouts and code words fly past him—he’d have to ask for a manual of some kind, Muggle science-y terminology has never been his best suit. However.

“What,” he breathes, leaning close to the file, eyes wide, “what is he—what is—”

However, there are two words he can’t mistake, no matter how sleep-deprived he is or how blind. A name, in fact.

“What is Harry Potter doing in this file?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Dr. Stewart asks, lacing her fingers on her lap. “Think. His lifelong exposure with the Dark Arts and artifacts, how volatile and explosive his power is, and most importantly, how dangerous he is even to the brightest magic users. There’s a reason why we don’t meddle with your kind. You already have the means available to contain certain anomalies, but Potter is different, and we have to step in this time.”

Draco stares at her, then at the name in the file, at the picture attached, slack-jawed.

“The oddity in the mundane, Dr. Malfoy,” Dr. Stewart leans forward, a knowing look on her face. Draco's legs feel like wooden trunks, sunken into the ground. "Get used to it, and get focused. Because if left unchecked, Harry Potter might very well get powerful enough to become a reality bender."

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Hi, and welcome to a new segment I like to call “Sick Songs Sunday”.... *coughs*. In this segment, I pretty much go through the numerous albums I have on my phone/vinyls/cd’s/whatever and choose one album and sort of just....tell you my favorite lyrics from each song.

I’m doing this because it’s Sunday, and I’m bored. It’s just for fun.

This Sunday, allow me to introduce you to an album called Soul Punk. If you’ve heard of it, sick! If not, I wouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, the album is by Patrick Stump, AKA the lead singer of Fall Out Boy. This was his solo project he made in 2011 during the band’s hiatus. It didn’t do very well, but I really like it. So, uh, give it a shot.

Explode: But if I’m never your hero/I can never let you down, You were born on a dare/But you were born ready/Cut the red wire/Or was that the green wire, Clap if you’ve got a ticket to the end of the world

This City: Cause this city/is my city/and I love it/I was born and raised here/I got it made here

Dance Miserable: Just dance like you’re disappointed in the world, It’s as bad as I remember/and it’s only getting worse/It only gets better when it hurts

Spotlight (New Regrets): Every words a new regret if you say it right/and every wound can be forgotten in the right light/oh, nostalgia I don’t need you anymore/’cause the silent days are over/and the beat is at my door/But don’t forget it’s your right/to do whatever you like/’cause you can be your own spotlight, A little sweetness keeps just out of reach/’cause compassion is something that they just don’t teach

The “I” in Lie: Temptation makes impatient impulses pump through married men/so just stop, breathe, count to three, But, honey, if he seems to good to be true/well, guess what?/he probably is

Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers): There’s nothing wrong with you/it’s something wrong with me, Step one: drink/Step two: make mistakes/Step three: pretend you don’t remember/Step four: drink a little more/Step five: I need to run dry, My liver’s killin’ me, but willingly/I’m gonna tell whoever asks/that I feel alright, I’m not just drunk/I really think I’m in love with you/(ok I really am just drunk)

Cryptozoology: They saw the shadow/of a figure in the night/something unhuman fleeing/from the scene of the crime/those little flashes just wreak havoc on the mind, They’ve got the search party/lookin’ for the ghost of the child/but what if he grew up?/he never died/in these old haunts/you get the eerie little feeling/that you’re under dead eyes/Cryptozoology, you just might exist/but call me in the morning/if that misconception still persists/some days I may express myself in curious ways

Greed: And there’s a crooked line/that I don’t wanna take the time to straighten/’cause when you do you realize/it’s the whole damn world that’s bent, Greed: one of the most deadly sins/many gonna enter/few gonna win/always try to notify the next of kin/’cause many gonna enter/few gonna win, The good news is everybody gets to have an outlet/the bad new is everybody gets to have an outlet

Everybody Wants Somebody: It’s been a long, long time/since I’ve had this line of doubt out loud, Everybody wants somebody who doesn’t want them/who wants somebody else, Well there’s plenty of fish in the wrong sea, Hold me/distract me/dress me up in bubbles, baby/save me from the troubles of my own skin

Allie: Whenever you find it/it’s none of my business/now wherever go, go, go/it’s not my concern/but for a second/you’re attention just belonged to me/and it passed so fast it just fractured all my cool/I’m not broken hearted/I’m just kinda pissed off

Coast (It’s Gonna Get Better): Maybe I’m too old to be so hopeful/maybe I’m too young to be so bitter/but I swallowed adolescence by the chokeful/and came away lookin’ like a quitter, I keep making mistakes/but it takes some time to get anything right, right?/’Cause it’s gonna get better/it’s gonna work out/just give it a minute/it’s gonna turn around/We’re gonna keep living/we’re gonna get by/we never have to lay down and die, So just coast with me, Life’s already been hard enough/without you giving up on yourself

Bad Side Of 25: It’s a subzero archeological dig/to find that artifact of a car, I’ve lived long enough/to see some good friends die/it’s a dangerous time to be a friend of mine, Some people fade like evening/some just never go away/but there’s simply no safer place/than the bank the day after the robbery, How old will I be when I try to freeze time/and my age degrades into a well worn lie, I’m on the bad side of 25

People Never Done a Good Thing: A person is alright/but people never done a good thing, They’re addicted to convenience/”in case of stairway, use elevator”, We’re instructions that want to be misread, And most of us do as little as we can

When I Made You Cry: Well, I thought you were a mountain/until I saw you erupt/and I’m sorry if I ever made you cry

Mad at Nothing: You can throw me what you got/I will take it with a smile/you can dole it without shame/but I will never be your problem/I will never be to blame, When your hands are overflowing/with stones you wish to throw/and your eyes filled with excuse/’cause someone lit your fuse/there’s something you should know/you were mad at nothing/you’re just wasting time/I’m not bluffing/you should’ve been a friend of mine

[mellimagicsblog]

Career/College Advice...

Don't choose a major based on doing something you love. And reeeeaally don't do it if it's based off a career you've been sold as a "dream job." (me and the animation industry...)

Go to school to push your critical thinking skills further, question what you believe in, and dive deeper into the subjects that fascinated you in primary and secondary school (admit it -you had at least one. Yes, those cryptozoology and witchcraft history books you read between classes count!)

As you go through life, start thinking of problems you wish to solve. They could be little things in your life or huge structural flaws in society. Then think about how you would approach those problems and how you could use your skills to solve them. Once you find a problem that needs your help to be solved and you're willing to work on it for the rest of your life, THAT'S a life path.

College may or may not be a key to solving that problem for you, but it can help. Here are some problems that I would be interested in solving if I could turn back the clock or school wasn't so damned expensive:

1. Teaching my hippie neighbor that vaccines don't cause disease

2. Taking down the Christian right

3. Working through my PTSD

4. Teaching kids Mindfulness techniques

5. Adapting to the new environment we humans have created

6. Making just about every app and program I use more functional

7. Turning despairing words into hope for change

8. Helping animals that are suffering in my life but can't tell us how they feel

9. Doing all in my power to make sure we never have another Trump

- ALL of these can be solved in creative ways that didn't involve my "dream job," but I was too blind to see it. Please don't make my mistake. You're very likely to burn out on the path to your dream job, and burnout is always destructive to someone in the end.

[anotherdndblog]

Fictober Day 12: 9- “will you look at this?” + Mall AU

Title: Coffee Beans and Silver Strings

Chapter Two: Laptop Stickers and Flirtatious Jitters

Words: 980

Fandom: TAZ Amnesty

Characters/Pairing: Sternclay

Rating: T

Tags: Canon divergence, mall au, coffee shop au, Barclay is still bigfoot, Stern is an enthusiast 

Summary: Barclay notices a sticker on Stern’s laptop

Author's note: I’m obsessed with Sternclay at the moment. I tweaked the prompt slightly to fit the dialogue I had planned better but it still counts (I think)

Link to AO3 

____________________________________

Stern was in on his day off. It was a rare sight to behold, but there he was, sitting in the ar left corner, typing away on his laptop. And Barclay couldn’t take his eyes off Stern. Not because of his pining--no, definitely not because of that--but because he had noticed something about Stern’s laptop. Something he couldn’t possibly ignore. 

There, clear as day, was an honest to got Bigfoot sticker on Stern’s laptop. One of those “I believe” ones. And not just Bigfoot--a bunch of other cryptids. Alien stickers, X-Files BS, Mothman, you name it. 

Stern was completely and totally obsessed with cryptids. 

Cryptids like Barclay. Like most of the people who worked and frequented the Amnesty Coffee House. Like Dani and Jake and so, so many others. 

Aubrey crossed her arms on the counter, staring at the laptop with a smirk. “Will you look at that? Looks like you got a fan, Barclay.” 

Barclay huffed and turned away from Aubrey, working on a couple of Americanos for no particular reason. “Not so loud. If he hears you--” 

“He’d be ecstatic! Imagine the look on his face.” Aubrey giggled. “I’m not going to say anything, so don’t give me that look. Obviously, I care just as much about the secret staying--well, secret.” She looked Barclay up and down and raised an eyebrow. “Am I right in assuming you’re about to take your lunch?” She pointed at the drinks Barclay held in his hands. 

Barclay shrugged, his cheeks warming slightly as he set down the drinks for a moment to free up his hands and take off his apron. “Can you hold down the fort?” 

Aubrey scoffed. “‘Can I hold down the fort?’ Of course, I can, you go get ‘im, tiger!” Aubrey gave Barclay a little pat on the back and sent him off. 

Yes, Barclay was still going to flirt with Stern. 

Was it a bad idea? Absolutely. Was he starting to get cold feet knowing Stern was into cryptozoology? One-thousand percent. But he liked Stern, and he figured if he could at least get to know the guy… well one of two things would happen: 1. He would start to lose interest, or 2. He would fall deeply, completely, and irreparably in love. Part of him hoped for the first option.

But there was always going to be a part that secretly hoped for the second. 

Barclay made it to Stern’s table and cleared his throat, holding out one of the drinks. “Uh, I noticed you were getting a little low, there. Care for a refill? On the house, of course.” 

Stern jumped a little at the sudden noise and looked up at Barclay. His face brightened, and he took the coffee gratefully. “Yes. Thank you, Barclay, I was just thinking about ordering another.” He sipped the coffee and smiled. “Are you on break,” he asked, motioning to Barclay’s lack of an apron. 

Barclay nodded. “Oh, yeah, just started. Are you… I mean... is that seat taken?” Barclay motioned to the seat across from Stern. 

Stern shook his head and set his coffee down, typing something on his laptop before closing it. “Nope, go ahead and sit! It would be nice to have some company. That’s why I came here, after all.” 

Barclay raised an eyebrow as he sat down in the seat. “You came here… for the company?” 

Stern shrugged. “Yeah, in a sense. I had some writing to do, and I didn’t want to be alone in my apartment, so I came here for some sense of… I don’t know, comradery?” 

“Comradery?” Barclay repeated, a smirk pulling on the corner of his lips. 

“Ok, wrong word,” Stern said with a laugh. “Really, it’s just nice to have the ambient background noise of people walking through the mall having little conversations. Makes you feel less alone.” 

Barclay sipped at his coffee. “I suppose that is true. What were you writing? Did I interrupt?” 

“Oh, no, not at all. It was just this little blog post I’m working on.” Stern averted his eyes, suddenly tensing up. 

Barclay weighed his options. On the one hand, it seemed like Stern was embarrassed. On the other, he had all those damn stickers on his laptop. It was pretty easy to guess what his blog was about. Still, Barclay decided to ask anyway, playing the fool. “Oh, you have a blog? That's cool.” 

Stern perked up slightly. “Uh, yeah, I do. I post weekly. It’s just a hobby of mine, and I have a small following, but it’s something to do.” 

“What’s it about?” Again, Barclay was fairly certain he already knew. He looked at the stickers. “Got anything to do with those fancy stickers on that laptop of yours?” 

Stern looked down at the stickers and back up at Barclay, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, you noticed those, huh?” 

“Kind of hard not to.” 

“Are you a believer, then?” 

Barclay suppressed a laugh. Kind of hard not to believe when the proof was sitting right there, hidden only by a hemp bracelet. He shrugged instead. “I can’t say I know a whole lot about that kind of stuff.” He wasn’t the biggest fan of lying, but it wasn’t like he was going to be like ‘actually, Bigfoot is right here congratulations.’ 

Stern nodded. “I see. Well, it’s kind of an interest of mine, if you can’t tell.” 

“What got you into this sort of stuff?” Barclay’s curiosity bubbled to the surface. 

“Well, it was a lot of things. But mainly, I’m just interested in the things we can’t explain. The things that go bump in the night and leave giant footprints in the woods. The things that defy science as we know it.” 

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” 

“I have. Once. No one believes me, though.” 

Barclay smiled, crossing his arms on the table. “Well, maybe we should change that.”

[atomicstrawbrys]

A.K. (1/?)

Alfred is a high school star with everything he could possibly want- until a student comes from England and suddenly becomes priority number one. USUK. High school AU. //

Alfred had gotten to school late the day he fell in love. He’d had a doctor’s appointment that morning, checking on the arm he’d broken a few weeks prior. Arm in a cast and cast in a sling, Alfred walked into the doors of his high school two periods late, note in hand to excuse his partial absence. 

He’d managed to catch the school in between classes, so students shuffled along the halls as he entered, a few giving courteous nods or friendly smiles as they made eye contact. Alfred was beloved by many- resident wonder athlete and science geek, he made himself popular with most student groups, and even those outside his social sphere at least regarded him as a good guy. Alfred was an all-arounder in every sense of the word, and he prided himself on the fact that there wasn’t a person in his life that didn’t seem to like him. Well, except maybe for his brother’s boyfriend Ivan, but he lived in Russia for half the year so he really didn’t count.

Speaking of his brother, Alfred noticed Matthew approaching him, waving as blonde curls bounced lightly on his shoulders. “Al! You made it!”

“ ‘Course I did, Matt! Mom, let one of us miss a day of school? I’m pretty sure she’d make us go if we were dying, so this was nothin’.” Alfred laughed, elbowing Matthew with his good arm. “So, did I miss anything?” He asked, walking down the hall with him to put some of his stuff in his locker. 

“Actually, yeah.” Matthew shrugged. “Some new guy got here today- he’s all the way from England, can you believe that? I don’t know his name, though- he was only in one of my classes and I sort of forgot...he’s kinda weird, though, I don’t know- you’ll see what I mean.”

Alfred chuckled. “Weirder than you? This I gotta see.”

He walked up to his locker, and, after twisting the combination, he opened it up and dropped some of his things off. He waved as Matthew left to get his own books and head to his next class, and as he waved he noticed that the locker to his right no longer seemed unoccupied. Previously a plain grey, the locker now wore one sticker, a plain white rectangle with the initials “A.K.” printed in black font. “A.K.,” huh? He smiled. Apparently, he’d be seeing this new guy a lot. 

Before he could, though, the bell for third period rang, and he slammed his locker shut and ran the rest of his way to class. 

He settled down in his seat, a worn out, scratched up desk right beside his best friend.

“Hey, Gil.” He whispered, grinning. 

“Alfred! You made it.” Gilbert playfully punched his shoulder. “For a while there I thought you might have abandoned me today.” 

Alfred snorted, waving a hand to quiet him down. “Come on, man, I wouldn’t. Hey, listen- you know anything about this A.K. guy? The one from England? Matthew said something about him earlier, and I gotta say, anyone that that syrup-guzzling freak thinks is weird has sparked my interest.” 

“Oh, yeah! I do- I ran into him on the way in. And I mean literally ran into him. I knocked all his shit on the ground, and you should have heard the fancy British curses he threw at me!” Gilbert laughed. “I gotta remember some of those, man, he was creative.”

Settling into silence, Alfred spent most of his class mulling over what he knew about the oh-so-mysterious A.K. He was from England, he was...weird, apparently, and he had a temper on him. None of these sounded like particularly good personality traits, and though Alfred did hope that he was wrong and that this guy would turn out to be alright, he had his doubts. Having yet another student come in from another country was certainly interesting, though, even if his school did get a disproportionate amount of foreign students both temporary and permanent.

It seemed that he just kept barely missing A.K. throughout the day, as each time he would go to gather his things there would be a new sticker on the locker next door. A.K. was putting one on between each period. First was a sticker of the Loch Ness Monster, and Alfred could appreciate the elusive A.K.’s interest in cryptozoology. Hell, he was almost a cryptid himself, the way he drifted in and out without being seen, leaving only traces of his presence behind. Next came the rainbow flag sticker- Alfred didn’t have to guess what that meant. He did, however, have to look up the sticker that came after that, a similar flag with two pink stripes, two blue, and one white. The sticker after that was for a band Alfred didn’t recognize, but the last sticker, a monster that Alfred recognized from one of his favorite shows, indicated that perhaps he and A.K had at least a few common interests. 

When he approached his locker after his last class, he found himself walking just a little faster to try and catch his slippery neighbor before he went home. As he approached his locker, he saw that the one beside it was open, A.K. standing in front of it. The locker door obscured him from view, but Alfred could see black ripped jeans and heavy, heavy boots tipped with steel. 

“Uh, Hey!” He greeted, lightly knocking on the locker door. “I uh, haven’t met you yet! Name’s Alfred!” 

The stranger behind the door jumped and slammed it shut. He turned, and Alfred’s eyes widened. The world around him muffled and faded into irrelevance- the only thing worth paying attention to was the boy in front of him- with his black top and huge purple jacket, fur collar so large it tickled the bottoms of his ears. His head was a half-shaved mess of natural, sandy blond and dyed lavender, and his face- god, his face, all freckles and piercings and black lipstick, and beautiful, downright gorgeous green eyes accentuated by rings of black eyeliner. A.K was magnificent, in every sense of the word, and Alfred found himself suddenly not so heterosexual. 

“Can I help you?” The angel’s voice reached Alfred’s ears, and he giggled like an idiot before he could stop himself. This seemed to be a bad move, though, as A.K scowled at him, pulling on his backpack and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He started to push past him, but Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder before he could go. 

“Wait-! Uh, I’m sorry- I’m not laughing at you, I just- what’s your name?”

A.K. seemed skeptical, raising a thick eyebrow in Alfred’s direction.

“...Arthur. Now, I really must be going home. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, uh, Albert.” He shrugged Alfred’s hand off and shuffled down the hall, students naturally giving him a wide berth as he went.

Alfred, a lovestruck fool, sighed longingly and leaned against his locker, a hand clutched over his heart. Giggling again, he whispered.

“He almost knows my name!”

[tabithalovesstuff]

Witchcraft Asks #1-105

I hardly ever get asks so I'm going to do this all at once, I'll also repub the original after this too, tag you're it!

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? Solitary

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? Witch, I kind of consider myself pagan too but not as much since I don't consider my practice a religion

3. What is your zodiac sign? Libra sun sign, Sagittarius moon, Virgo Rising

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? Nope, I don't really believe in any of the Gods lol

5. Do you work with a Pantheon? Nope

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination? Tarot, and I want to get into pendulum too but I've been too broke to buy one

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) I don't practice with herbs 🤭 mostly cause they are hard for me to get lol

8. How would you define your craft? I generalize it by saying I'm a Eclectic Secular Witch that specializes in energy work and tarot

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? I don't really do curses, how ever that is because I haven't had the need to do one, I think its fine to do them as long as you know what you are doing

10. How long have you been practicing? Technically I started in Middle school, but I've only truly started to get into it and truly practice for the last 2 years (but if you count when I started then 8 years)

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? I do not, i have pets they just aren't attracted to magic enough to be a familiar lol

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation? Yes to both

13. Do you have a magical name? No I don't, I feel like my real name is enough

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? Technically, I don't try to hide it but I don't talk about it a lot so not a lot of people know I'm a witch.

15. What was the last spell you performed? I know some witches don't count these but I did an emoji spell for the coronavirus

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? More or less, I feel like I'm decently knowledgeable but not enough to be a teacher or leader

17. Do you write your own spells? Yes I do

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up? I do have one, its a very personal one that includes more than just magic almost like a journal. I write down information I want to be able to look back at as well as any spells and rituals I write myself and tarot readings for myself, and sometimes dreams.

19. Do you worship nature? I do

20. What is your favorite gemstone? Opal

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? No I don't, I wouldn't be against it though

22. Do you have an altar? Yes, kind of. Its really messy rn and doesn't really look like an altar

23. What is your preferred element? Either Earth or Air, I'm always stuck between those two

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? Not at all lol I've never made any sort of potion

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? Nope, though I do have an interest in cryptozoology but I don't know if that counts

26. What got you interested in witchcraft? Tbh I wanted to turn myself into a mermaid or a wolf (which is why I started in middle school lmao)

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? No I haven't, just cause I focus so much on energy work, sometime I find other people's energy distracting

28. Have you ever used ouija? Yep, nothing really happened though

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? Not really, maybe to a certain extent.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? I feel like a Deer is my spirit guide

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? I need to lower my expectations and I need to focus on feeling the magic over going through the motions

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? I try to! Doesn't always work out for me lol, I really like both Litha and Samhain

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? Yes I plan too

34. Do you meditate? Yes, but not as often as I should

35. What is your favorite season? Winter, I feel like all seasons have their perks though and living somewhere with one season would suck ass

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? Energy magic, as a witch that doesn't have good access to supplies (and space) it is the easiest for me (I have a post all about energy magic on my profile too)

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? Energy magic makes it really easy, like brushing my teeth or hair, taking a shower, even making food can all have a magical element to it

38. What is your favorite witchy movie? Honestly? Casper Meets Wendy lol, or the Halloweentown movies, or the Twitches movie

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? I haven't really read very many witchy books ngl

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. Again, this was back in middle school, I did a spell on the full moon to turn into a werewolf. Obviously not successful

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? I did a cleansing spell on my dorm room my freshman year of college once a week cause I had a toxic ass roommate and she requested a room change before the end of the semester because of a "bad smell" that no one else could smell but her.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? I don't use candles, because I'm not allowed to have them in my school dorms, I want to get into candles more though

43. What is your favorite witchy tool? My tarot cards lol

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? Nope, I want to though

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits? Not really, I dabble in it here and there though. I would love to work with the fae more though

46. Do you practice color magic? Yes, all the time

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? Nope

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? Online, I mostly use stuff I find around my house or on the ground outside though

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? Not fully, I think every person is born with a long list of possible fates and the paths you choose in life determines where you end up

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? I try to do free tarot reading on here or meditate more, sometimes looking through my book of shadows helps too

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? Yeah I've had a few

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? When people try to say there is a certain way you have to practice and some forms of witchcraft "aren't real witchcraft" just cause they don't practice in that way

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? I do, I don't really have a favorite, I like trying a bunch of different kinds at once

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? I kind of write my dreams down in my book of shadows, I don't keep up with it very well though

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? I can't say if I've ever really had one. I did a job spell and even though I got an interview I didn't get the job, and then was unemployed for a few months until after college semester, then I got hired at my old job. In the spell I said I wanted to be hired somewhere that was as good as my old job so my spell brought me right back to it

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? The cleansing ritual story I mentioned above. Once that roommate was out of my life I was so much happier lol.

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? Speaking incantations, sometimes I feel like I'm talking to myself lol

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? Yes I do, especially because I am an atheist

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? Not scared, but definitely unsure and insecure. Spell work is tricky, especially writing my own spells, I feel like I'm not doing them well enough

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? Yeah sometimes, I get so bad about actually practicing and I want to get to the point where I practice every day and I always celebrate the Sabbaths and have a wide variety of crystals and learn astrology and so much more

61. What is something witch related that you want right now? I still need to do the money spell I wrote awhile ago, but it has to do with enchanting work uniform and I'm kinda unemployed rn

62. What is your rune of choice? I don't have any experience with runes, sorry lol

63. What is your tarot card of choice? The Star

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? No I dont

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? Nope

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? I would if I had any, but I don't lol

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? Not really, but that's because not a lot of people know about it, I definitely feel like the people that do know don't take it seriously

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? Nope

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? I don't think it is. I suggest it definitely but it isn't required. Its a lot if history to break down and you don't need to know the history to practice

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? I like the feeling of all the things in the world around me, which I feel like you only get from the training you go through when learning witchcraft. I also enjoy the ability to cleanse my environment and myself

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? No one really takes you or your craft seriously, and because of some people taking parts of the craft, I feel like being a witch is almost seen as some joke

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? No I don't, unless you count instrumentals that raise your vibration

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? I honestly am not sure if I do or not, I don't think I've heard any of the holidays I celebrate called that? I celebrate the pagan wheel of the year holidays so if those are apart of that then yes 😂

74. Do you ever work skyclad? I do sometimes

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? Very much so, even though I still struggle with depression and anxiety, witchcraft has made it so much better than it use to be and I feel like I'm happier since I started practicing, my view of life has become more wholesome

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? Nature mostly

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) honestly yeah I do, for sure

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? Don't have one

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? I would, but I haven't in anything so far but that's just cause I haven't felt like a spell needed blood magic

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? No I couldn't be, I don't want to hide parts of myself from someone that should know me better than anyone else

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? I want to explore astrology more and include that more. I also want to do more spell work and ritual work

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? Again I don't use candles, I do have a air scenter from Bath and Body works and I had a Pumpkin Spice Cupcake scent that was soooo good

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? I don't, but that's because I don't really do rituals, I want to get more into them though

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? I don't know any real life witches tbh

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? I don't work with them so...

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? I keep them all on the shelf below my altar, my organization skills lack a lot though

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? Not that I know of, my family does come from Ireland though (within the last 3 generations too) so it could be possible

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? I created my path through growing up and becoming more aware of my surroundings, and as I matured I understand more and more what witchcraft is really about. And I did it all on my own which is what I think is unique about it

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? I feel like I am clairvoyant to a certain degree, and I've always had above average visualization skills

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? I feel like you can initiate yourself

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? Nothing because I was a child with no money lol

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? I live in Colorado when I'm not away at school and the entirety of the mountains are pretty magical

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? I am definitely not the person for this question lol

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? I like to sometimes put on gentle music or nature sounds, quiet every thought that comes into my head

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? It came really easily for me, I think its cause I use to read SOOOO much as a kid

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? Night, idk why I just feel more at peace at Night

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? This depends on what the spell is, but generally sometime in the evening in my room is the best 😂

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? I definitely stumble, I still struggle with casting circles

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? I think it does, at least I feel like it comes more naturally with time and practice

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? None of the above

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? Yeah I do, all the time

102. What is your favorite color and why? Green, I've just always loved green since I was a kid idk why

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? "What do witches even do?" I usually just say its complicated, because it is complicated lol

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? I want to say my hearing but I feel like my taste is pretty good too

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice? Always cast a circle and ground yourself before a spell. I am really bad at it lol