#tumblr ate this ask and i had to spend twice as long writing it

[therealvinelle]

Hi, I was reading a post here in Tumblr about how Edward has two gifts, he can hear thoughts and is super fast, so I wonder what is your opinion about this topic?.

Furthermore, what others power might the Volturi's leaders and guards might have?

Edward has one gift, and it’s telepathy. Being fast isn’t a gift.

Strength, speed and even senses is varied among vampires. Some, like Emmett, are on the extreme end, but that doesn’t make Emmett gifted, nor does it mean that the rest are at an equal level. The Cullens have clear variations between them.

Physique appears to play a dominant role in how these variations play out: Alice, who was malnourished and never made it past 4′10″, is the physically weakest of the coven, while Emmett at 6′5″ and a mountain of muscles is the strongest. This is made very clear during the baseball game:

“Emmett was hovering close to third (base), knowing that Alice didn’t have the muscle to outstrip Rosalie’s fielding." (Midnight Sun, chapter The Game)

There’s also the fact that it’s taken for granted that Emmett would be intimidating to other vampires, and he is dismayed when James is more worried about Jasper, who is lean.

I suspect this disparity exists simply because a large frame means more tissue to have blood in. Newborns, animal, and human-eating vampires all having a difference in terms of strength is proof that blood has the final say in a vampire’s prowess, so Emmett being able to contain more of it than Alice and therefore being stronger makes sense to me.

This isn’t the meta for me to get into that, but I don’t think vampires have muscles in the sense we do. Or rather, we can’t know that they do. Renesmée is proof that Edward retains his human DNA, or she would be a clone of Bella. Nahuel is proof that Joham retains a Y-chromosome. Does this mean that vampires have different cell types? Does a vampire’s stone-like skin still contain human DNA? One would think yes - except, if you rip a vampire apart, you get rubble. The parts are all solid. There’s also Carlisle theorizing that vampires digest blood by absorbing it through porous tissue, which makes me wonder why he dismissed his digestive system (my guess: vivisection fun times with Aro in Volterra. Carlisle couldn’t have done it on his own, and Aro is the only one mad and curious enough to be down for that). I’m getting off-topic - what I’m saying is, we don’t know how vampires work, meaning I can’t build this meta off of the assumption that they have muscles. I simply can’t know for sure that they do.

The important thing is that a vampire’s physique is a deciding factor in how strong they are.

There’s also Laurent’s warning about James, that he has “unparalleled senses”, meaning some vampires are better at sight, hearing, and smell than others. I can believe that, because we have canon examples of vampires being bad at tracking.

There’s Edward in Port Angeles, who couldn’t track Bella’s, his singer, scent to her location, and (I admit this one is conjecture but it’s so probable that I say it goes) Carlisle’s creator, who after taking care of the mob must have realized he’d bitten one of the humans, meaning a newborn would soon be loose in London. This is punishable by death by the Volturi. The fact that he didn’t return to finish Carlisle off means that he was unable to find him. I remind the audience that Carlisle was bleeding and suffering the effects by a venom intended to paralyze the victim. To put it this way, Carlisle wouldn’t have survived James, or anybody with a trace of tracking competence. By comparison, Carlisle was able to locate a dying Rosalie by the smell of her blood, even though there wouldn’t have been a trail for him to follow, as her body had not been moved.

When it comes to these disparities in strength and speed among the Volturi, I imagine Jane and Alec are the physically weakest members of the guard, and among the slowest. They’re prepubescent, meaning no muscle for them, and their height (a humble 4′8″ and 4′10″) implies very short legs. They’re simply not going to get as far as an adult would, not in the same number of steps. Renata at 5′0″ is another tiny vampire lady who likely isn’t very strong or fast.

That’s not to say I think these physically weaker members of the Volturi guard are necessarily useless in hand-to-hand combat, Alec at least is a boy stuck in a playful age, and the males around him are trained warriors. He’s probably picked up a few things over the years.

As for the others, Aro is described as frail-looking, which hints at him being quite thin. I don’t think he’s weak, if he couldn’t win a fight he wouldn’t be around, but I do think he’s probably below average in terms of strength. Caius I picture as a Harrison Ford type, so of course I’m gonna think he’s a bit burly, but this is me headcanoning and not actually hinted at in canon. Marcus is 19, so I imagine he can only be so strong.

Back to Edward’s speed.

He’s a 6′2″ teen, that’s code for “very long legs”, though I’m actually going to go ahead and posit that he’s not actually that fast. Strap in for this next part:

The guy was a teenager who lay dying for an undisclosed amount of time. The fact that Carlisle had the time to get to know his mother points to a few weeks, at least. And Edward was very ill:

Elizabeth worried obsessively over her son. She hurt her own chances of survival trying to nurse him from her sickbed. I expected that he would go first, he was so much worse off than she was. (New Moon, page 21)

Muscles atrophy quickly, never more so than when you’re a teen ravaged by fever, on your deathbed. And as I’ve explained above, I think your physique in life ties directly into your vampiric prowess.

I think Edward is certainly the physically weakest of the male Cullens, quite likely weaker than Rosalie as well, maybe even Esme.

Now, speed is not the same as strength. However, for humans, the two are connected. It’s the muscle fibers in our legs that determine our speed. Basically, type I fibers make an enduring runner, type II fibers make a speed runner. So, assuming that vampires retain their human musculature, one could argue that Edward had a lot of type II in life. However, Carlisle when he was human was able to outrun the mob he was with:

He ran through the streets, and Carlisle — he was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. (Twilight, page 158)

Carlisle clearly had a lot of type II fibers, and unlike Edward he was in peak physical condition when he died. He was also an adult who’d had more time to develop musculature, while Edward was a seventeen-year-old. If musculature was a deciding factor, one would think they would at the very least be of equal speed, though realistically Edward should be slower.

So, if it’s not muscles, what is it that makes Edward faster than the others?

It could be a matter of technique. Except, the way Bella describes movement when she wakes up as a vampire, it’s all very automated. Her body knows exactly how to do everything, and executes it without much input from her:

After that first frozen second of shock, my body responded to the unfamiliar touch in a way that shocked me even more.

Air hissed up my throat, spitting through my clenched teeth with a low, menacing sound like a swarm of bees. Before the sound was out, my muscles bunched and arched, twisting away from the unknown. I flipped off my back in a spin so fast it should have turned the room into an incomprehensible blur—but it did not. I saw every dust mote, every splinter in the wood-paneled walls, every loose thread in microscopic detail as my eyes whirled past them.

So by the time I found myself crouched against the wall defensively—about a sixteenth of a second later—I already understood what had startled me, and that I had overreacted. (Breaking Dawn, page 251-252)

Growling, crouching - those are all distinctly vampiric, non-human ways to act. Bella didn’t learn this, her body knew it of its own accord. When she later runs, she explains it as happening the same way - she just does it.

The way Bella experiences it, vampiric movement is like a package she downloaded, and that executes her instinctual commands with no need for her to actually know how to do any of this. Her grace is another example of this - Bella Swan may be in charge of her own consciousness, but the venom is entirely in control of her body.

Given these facts, I don’t think it’s technique that makes Edward a better runner than others. His technique is likely similar to everyone else’s. If it isn’t, if technique is what makes the difference, then who is and isn’t fast is an arbitrary process.

With that, we get to my controversial theory about why Edward is the fastest Cullen: he’s not.

Running and being fast is the only thing about vampirism that Edward enjoys. This is for another meta, but Edward is extremely depressed about every single other bit of it. Every aspect of being a vampire torments him.

Except the running. He enjoys all of it, especially being the fastest, so much. And as a newborn, he would have been faster than Carlisle.

But after that, when his newborn strength faded…

I honestly think that Carlisle decided to just slow down a bit when running with him, let Edward have this. It’s no skin of his back, and it makes Edward happy, so why not.

Esme joins the family, and of course she would be down for this. Nothing is more parental, more maternal, than losing at checkers to make your child happy, after all. Could also be she’s not very fast herself, but even if she were then she would downplay it to make Edward feel like Jesse Owens.

Enter Rosalie, who would think it’s completely ridiculous, yes, but she would also recognize this excellent opportunity to call in a big favor from Carlisle later on. There’s also the fact that I think Carlisle has a gift (yes, yes, meta is coming, people) that makes him very persuasive people. And also that for all that Rose gets a lot of bad rep, she is very generous and loves her family, if being fast makes Edward happy then alright.

Emmett is an easy-going guy, he goes along with things. Alice adores Edward and would go along with it. She also has tiny matchstick legs and couldn’t outrun him if she tried. Jasper could not care less.

Bella does get outrun by Edward after waking up, but she also did zero exercise in life (listing this in case musculature matter), had Renesmée devour her from within rendering her emaciated, and then died like a slasher movie murder victim. There’s not a lot of blood in her, and what little blood there is doesn’t have a lot to work with. She does defeat Emmett at arm wrestling, so I’ll concede that. However, there are enough extenuating circumstances surrounding Bella that I think my “Edward isn’t that fast” theory survives his ability to outrun her.

So, I believe Edward is the fast Cullen because Carlisle told a white lie in 1919, no one ever corrected that, and now it’s too late.

[lonestardaily]

Here at Lone Star Daily, our mission is not only to provide you with content but also to help our fellow creators get exposure. We are happy to announce that now, this will also include our writing friends. Each week we will provide you with a decent (not comprehensive) list of the fanfics that have been posted for the week. The week will run from Friday - Thursday, as that way it does give us an opportunity to put the list together. There’s no requirement to tag us as we will check the tags #911 lone star fic and #911lsfic while also combing through ao3. We currently are only going to post new fics, not updates. You can check out this week’s fics below the cut.

Please feel free to give this post a boost to give our writers a chance to receive some love for the work they do for the fandom as well.

(if your fic is not tagged with a tumblr, it’s because we couldn’t find one - feel free to send us a message and we’ll be happy to add one)

TARLOS FICS

Blanket Hog by @lonestarbabe

↳  (TK x Carlos | Domestic Fluff | T | 1753)

T.K.'s got a tendency to be very cold ever since he got hypothermia. Good thing he's got a hot boyfriend to keep him warm.

A Mother’s Love is Unconditional by @sapphire11

↳ (Andrea x TK, TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | G | 1498)

Andrea Reyes pays TK a visit with the intention of having a little "talk" with him. (Set during 3x04)

Down to Clown by @chaotictarlos

↳  (TK x Carlos | Missing Scene | E | 1651)

TK makes it up to Carlos for bringing home a lizard.

Spilt Cocoa by @alidravana

↳  (TK x Carlos | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | T | 1640)

TK ate the last of the marshmallows that Carlos was saving for his hot chocolate.  Which normally wouldn't have been a big deal, but after a long shift, misplaced marshmallows was Carlos' breaking point.

Marshmallow Thieves by @isastrxnd

↳  (TK x Carlos | Future Family Fic | G | 751)

A future fic where Tk and Carlos spend time with their daughter on a snowy day.

Strand’s Home for Wandering Strays by @mooshkat

↳  (TK x Carlos, Judd x Grace | Domestic Fluff | G | 4344)

Lou was just the beginning of TK bringing home the strays that he rescues.     

I Need You Here Tonight (And Always) by falloutmars

↳  (TK x Carlos | Spec fic | T | 6686)

Season 3 finale speculation fic. Carlos is trapped.

One Jump Ahead by  Deathskidhufflepuff

↳  (TK x Carlos | Kid Fic | G | 1630)

TK meets a kid he never would have thought twice about before.

Pretty Face (Pretty Boyfriend, Too) by @iboatedhere

↳  (TK x Carlos | POV Outsider | T | 7047)

5 moments of jealousy + 1 moment of envy.

The Warmth We Make by @sapphire11

↳  (TK x Carlos | Domestic Fluff | T | 1599)

A nice cup of hot chocolate is just what TK knows Carlos needs to unwind after a hard day at work. Too bad TK forgot he ate the last of the marshmallows and "hot chocolate without marshmallows is a travesty." as his boyfriend has reminded him every time they have it.

Do Not Say it Crawled! by @velvet-ink

↳  (TK x Carlos | Coda | T | 1015)

Carlos has trouble going to bed knowing that Lou is roaming free.            

Something to Cling To by TheWeatherOutside

↳  (TK x Carlos | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | T | 3119)

When the call came in about a police car that had been involved in a crash, TK didn't think anything of it. Not until he saw the broken body of his boyfriend.  

breathe by ilikeyougreenie

↳  (TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | T | 4858)

5 times tk told carlos to breathe, + 1 time carlos told tk to

miscommunication at first sight by novakskline

↳  (TK x Carlos | Coffee Shop AU  | G | 6632)

"Carlos Reyes that was pitiful, you didn't even get his name!" Grace said amusedly, shaking her head at her best friend.

"It would've been weird to ask for his name, he was just ordering a drink! He only knows mine because of the name badge." Carlos defended, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What happened to the smooth and confident Carlos that is always charming the customers?" Grace asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He saw a hot guy sweating in workout clothes." Carlos groaned and picked his hot chocolate back up.

Marshmellow Mayhem by @noxsoulmate

↳  (TK x Carlos | Roomate AU/E2L | E | 6307)

Living with a roommate isn’t always easy. Especially not when their name is TK Strand and it seems their goal is to annoy you to death. The theft of his last marshmallows is the final straw for Carlos – and might just turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

126 FICS

Lunch with Lou by @doublel27

↳  (TK x 126, TK x Lou | Missing Scene | G | 1457)

TK brings Lou into the firehouse after he's been cleared and the rest of the 126 has comments.

the other side of a cloudless day by @marwani-strickland

↳  (TK x Carlos, Judd x Grace, Mateo x Nancy, Paul x Marjan, Tommy x Owen | Spec Fic | T | 5852)

a bright, cloudless morning and a building collapse.

CHARACTER FICS / OTHER PAIRINGS

As it Was by @moviegeek03

↳  (Owen, Owen x Robert, Owen x TK | Hurt/Comfort | G | 4752)

Owen has always been good at separating things. Before and afters. All separate. Even his brother. Well, brothers. That was why Owen hadn’t talked about Robert yet. Why TK didn’t know everything. Yet. He planned to tell him. He did. When the time was right. He had no way of knowing a ceiling would come down on him and TK on a call, forcing all the things in his life to suddenly come together. In every way. No longer separate.

Some Risks are Worth It by @ramblingdisaster73

↳  (Nancy x Mateo, Nancy x TK, Mateo x Paul x Marjan | Spec Fic | T | 4416)

Nancy goes to TK & Carlos while Mateo goes to Marjan and Paul for help, but they are both keeping secrets from their friends. Too bad their friends are lovingly nosy, and how long do secrets really last at the 126?

Namesake by megas217

↳  (Owen x TK | Coda | T | 729)

Owen tells TK about his younger brother who TK’s named after.

Who’s the Best Cupcake Decorator? by @breannacasey

↳  (Grace x Tommy | Friendship Fic  | G | 899)

As Tommy and Grace prepare for the twins' birthday party, their competitive side decides to come out.

Coffee Date by @marwani-strickland

↳  (Nancy x Mateo | Coda | T | 1337)

nancy and mateo go out for coffee - post 3x14

you and me, hibiscus tea by @marwani-strickland

↳  (Paul x Marjan | Coda | T | 1695)

after a rough shift, marjan and paul go over to his house for tea. - post 3x14

Austin Alone by @boasamishipper & @lilalbatross

↳  (Owen x Billy | AU FWB2L | E | 4548)

After the reopening of the 126, Billy and Owen give being friends with benefits a try. Inconvenient feelings ensue. / Season 3 AU, Owen-centric.

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 6: A Talk

This is chapter 6 of the dream smp fic @dramaticsnakes and I are writing. Thank you to @r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Ghostbur, Phil

Word count: 2,988

Cw:  Eating/food, major angst, loneliness, bottling up emotions, trust issues, fear of abandonment, discussions of betrayal, implied suicidal thoughts, loss of purpose

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The table was already set before they walked down, three chairs and a hightop were around the table. As Michael sprinted towards the dining room, everyone else walked at a moderate pace. Wilbur found himself sitting at the chair furthest away from the little family. While Wilbur didn’t mind imposing on most things, the domestic scene before him appeared private, as Tubbo gently lifted Michael to the highchair. Everyone sat down, and as Wilbur saw the food on the plate, he realized that it had once again been quite a bit since he ate. He looked at the inviting steak, and cut off a piece of it with his knife and fork, shoving it into his mouth, embracing the taste.

“What’s that?” Ghostbur asked in awe, causing Wilbur to feel a little abashed, as he realized what was going on. Wilbur swallowed. “Mm, this steak is really good,” he said in response, and Ghostbur gasped excitedly.

The steak was actually quite delicious. He didn’t remember tasting Tubbo’s cooking in a while, which of course made sense, all the years at a train station considered and all. Though this was clearly food, made by someone who cooked proper meals frequently, which was an interesting change, from their time in the wars. A change that left a strange stinging sensation in Wilbur’s chest that showed up uninvited every once in a while, but was fairly easy to quench. 

“Thank you!” Tubbo said with a cheerful smile.

“There wasn’t much food in limbo, you know.” Wilbur commented, eating a bigger piece, “In fact, there wasn’t anything. I tried to lick the walls once or twice, but they tasted worse than the walls in this world.”

Tubbo’s face turned slightly pale, and he chuckled awkwardly. “How do you know-” he trailed off and shook his head, “Nevermind.”

At that moment, Wilbur realized that all this time being dead, made people look at Wilbur strangely, and treat his comments with a new sort of hesitance. What would usually have been met with laughter, was met with stares and grim silence. 

But Wilbur’s words were just something everyone else would have to get used to eventually.

Ranboo sat next to Michael, cutting the steak on Michael’s plate into tiny pieces. He tried, to little avail, to put a piece into Michael’s mouth, which Michael looked away from quickly. “Come on, Michael, it’s dinner time,” he said gently.

Tubbo turned to his husband and his child- which was a sentence Wilbur still hadn’t gotten quite used to thinking- and tried to assist. He smiled nervously, as he grabbed another little piece. “It’s good for you, Michael. And delicious!” he took a piece from his own place and ate it, followed by an overexaggerated hum of satisfaction. 

Ranboo took the fork and asked Michael, “Do you want it?”

Michael shook his head no, slightly pouting. Ranboo gasped, “But steak is so good! Well…” he aimed the fork for his mouth instead of Michael’s. “I’ll gladly take it, steak is one of the best things ever.” When Ranboo opened his mouth to eat the steak, Michael made grabby hands towards the fork.

Ranboo barely held back a laugh, “But this is my steak isn’t it?”

Michael shook his head again and moved his head towards the fork. Ranboo smiled, his plan working exactly how he expected it to, “Alright, I’ll let you have a bite.”

Ranboo led the fork to Michael’s mouth as the toddler took it gratefully. Michael even dared to make a face towards his father that could only be described as a pure soul attempting to look evil. Ranboo gasped dramatically, “I thought we taught you better than such manners!”

Michael snorted as he opened his mouth for another bite. Ranboo cut up a small piece of steak when he was casually interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. The specific pattern flew by Wilbur, but he felt instinctively that they were a planned order. Tubbo got up at the same time as Ranboo.

“I’ll get it,” Tubbo assured him.

“You already made dinner. I’ll do it,” Ranboo pushed his chair back in.

Tubbo walked towards the door, “I’ve got it, Boo, spend some time with Michael.” Ranboo’s shoulders noticeably relaxed at the nickname.

“Alright,” Ranboo sat back down and picked up Michael’s fork. He led it towards the toddler as routine, occasionally making comments about how he wished for a bite so Michael wouldn’t get suspicious. 

Wilbur took the moment to remember his recent conversation with Ranboo. Why did Ranboo believe Dream was such an antagonist to imply that it was obvious why he held such distaste for him? There wasn’t blood on Dream’s green hoodie, but Ranboo clearly saw it on his hands in a way Wilbur couldn’t understand. “Why do you hate Dream?”

Ranboo tensed, “I- well, hate isn’t the word I would describe it as…” While Michael was chewing he ate a piece for himself. If Ranboo was actually hungry or trying to delay the conversation, Wilbur would never know.

“Then describe it.” Wilbur was tired of the lack of knowledge he knew. Before he was decently satisfied, but his curiosity demanded more when Ranboo mentioned Dream. 

Ranboo chewed on his steak, clearly longer than he needed to. “It’s not really too important on the word choice, it’s just-” Ranboo looked at Michael with a fondness as he slowly got another bite for the boy. “He’s done a lot of things,” Ranboo’s voice was almost a whisper.

Ghostbur hummed, “People don’t really like Dream. I can’t recall much of him, but… he did something bad. No, a lot of things bad. He did some bad stuff to… to Tommy! Made him really sad.”

Wilbur nodded from Ghostbur’s explanation as it was more helpful than Ranboo’s. He was about to ask what Dream did to Tommy, but his thoughts were interrupted when Tubbo spoke, “Guess what, Michael, Grandpa’s here!” Wilbur looked over and saw Phil rolling his eyes at Tubbo’s word choice. 

Wilbur remained quiet as Phil’s eyes lingered on him. 

Phil’s expression was akin to concern, and Wilbur wasn’t that fond of it. Once again, he felt as if he was on display, and as if he’d given something away he should’ve kept to himself. “Techno said you’d be here,” Phil said quietly, and he waited for a few moments as if he wanted a response.

Wilbur didn’t know what satisfying response he could give. “Did he?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, as he jokingly added, “You know, I almost managed to forget how much of a bastard that guy was.” Ghostbur gasped in a worried kind of way, though he didn’t say a thing out loud.

Phil hummed and walked towards Michael. He gave the toddler a fond pat on the head, a gesture that reminded Wilbur far too much of a less tainted past. Phil looked at Ranboo and Tubbo. “He’s grown a bit since the last time I saw him,” he said.

“He has, hasn’t he?” Tubbo said proudly, “He’s been eating well too, mostly. We had to take away the yellow crayons. He has quite a taste for gold.” he chuckled.

Phil laughed, as he continued to pat Michael, who had excited sparks in his eyes. When Phil turned his face towards Wilbur however, it changed from laughter to a simple smile. Wilbur had the urge to walk away, though he stayed put, taking some more bites of his steak. “Listen…” Phil said, after a few casual greetings to the child and the parents, “Can I talk to you for a second, mate?”

Wilbur tensed up because he knew it was directed at him. The word alone hung in the air as well, implying that this would not be where the conversation took place. In short, that meant this was a serious conversation, and unfortunately, Wilbur had a vague idea of what it was going to be about. He nodded, more sheepishly than he would’ve liked to, and stood up from the table. Phil excused the both of them, and the two of them left the room together.

When Phil opened the door to the outside, Wilbur started to wonder if this was the moment he would be backstabbed, though he knew the reasoning was much more emotional and intangible than something like that. A backstabbing would be easy to tackle. A conversation with a concerned father was a lot less simple.

The two stood outside in the snow, and Wilbur was reminded of their first meeting after his revival. “What is it?” Wilbur said sharply.

“Wil…” Phil said softly, “I uh- I was wondering if you’re doing alright.”

Wilbur scoffed at the question, “I clearly am.”

“Wilbur,” Phil said more sternly, though not out of anger but more so out of concern. “I’m worried about your… safety- that might be the best way to put it.”

Wilbur nodded, but he barely meant it, “Understood, Mr. Minecraft, I’ll make sure to look both ways before crossing the street.” The words meant to come out in a playful way, but they were sharp with edges that hurt himself along with Phil.

“No, I-” Phil closed his eyes, focusing on his word choice. He opened them again with a look that lingered in melancholy but tried to look hopeful for Wilbur’s sake. “Techno told me about… your burns and I…” Phil took a deep breath in to try and address the topic directly, “Why did you go into the nether without any armor?” The words were quiet, but solid by themselves. 

Wilbur couldn’t hold back an eye-roll from how many times he’d been asked that today, Phil slightly frowned at this. “I mean, it doesn’t exactly matter much anymore. I’ll be more careful next time I go.”

Phil pursed his lips, “You don’t understand the point.” Phil sighed, “I’m worried about you.”

Although it shouldn’t have, it caught Wilbur off-guard. He didn’t ask why, because he knew he’d get a default answer about how he was a human being and his son and probably a sob fest that he’d heard before. He wasn’t a child anymore. He knew his place in the world. His place didn’t have any room for his father’s concerns. “I don’t need your pity about how it’s hard for me to get used to living again.” Wilbur didn’t even intend for that to slip out. He didn’t need to tell Phil anything. He didn’t need someone to be against him despite acting like they cared.

A part of him painfully thought how that description didn’t fit only one person.

“I know it takes a bit of practice?” Phil awkwardly laughed before his calm tone returned, “But you can’t get better at being alive by being reckless. It would be like saying you can’t use any measuring spoons while baking. I- We’ve got spoons, there’s no need to go through extra pain.”

“What the fuck does me going into the nether and tripping have to do with spoons?”

Phil’s tone softened, “You know what I mean.”

Wilbur looked at the snow around him, not being able to bear Phil’s sad look anymore. “I frankly don’t.”

Silence lingered in the air. It wasn’t a comfortable silence that made you enjoy the moment. It was harsh and uncomfortable to breathe in.

“Wilbur…” The tone of Phil’s voice tugged on a part of him. It was an idiotic part that needed to acknowledge that he wasn’t going to be Phil’s child again. He was just a disaster of a failed nation that everyone seemed wary of. 

A disaster of a son as well.

“You should go home.” Wilbur refused to meet his father’s eyes. Instead, he stared at his white breaths in the frozen air. 

“I don’t want you to leave again without me knowing when you’re coming back,” Wilbur told himself that he didn’t hear the small crack in Phil’s voice. He wanted to go into his father’s arms and have a moment where the two were together in a warm house in front of the fireplace. Instead, he settled on wrapping his own arms around himself. They weren’t warm to his body. They didn’t provide what he needed. Tears formed in his eyes at the thought of going home with Phil and pretending that things weren’t different now.

But everything was different. He hated that. He hated how the only laugh he would get was a small chuckle as everyone assumed he was a child that didn’t know the dangers of the world. He died three times. He knew danger better than anyone else would. He’d been betrayed more times than he could count on both of his hands. What if Phil got the courage to stab him unprompted? To bring a sword in the night and take care of everyone’s problem? “You should go,” Wilbur’s sobs almost escaped him as tears silently slid down his face. 

Phil sighed. “You know where to go if you… yeah…” Phil’s footsteps moved through the snow behind him, slow at first, only a pause stopping them. Phil wanted Wilbur to ask him to come back. Wilbur knew this. He knew he was an asshole, but he needed independence. It was ironic that he fought for L’Manburg’s, yet, it was still out of reach for him. 

After a few seconds of mutual silence, Phil’s steps continued, fading slowly. When they stopped again, Wilbur turned, perhaps to apologize but saw no one in sight. It took him a moment to realize Phil already went through the nether portal. 

Phil was gone.

He wasn’t coming back. Wilbur put a hand over his mouth, he had learned to cry silently during one of the wars. A quite useful skill if you asked him.

But no one would ask him. He was a fucking idiot that couldn’t hold onto anyone, no matter how much they asked him to stay. Yet, no matter how much he held on, he was always alone. They didn’t even leave on day one or two. No, no, no. They had to leave years after he knew them. They had to make Wilbur think he could actually hold onto them before they left.

Wilbur’s legs collapsed as he sobbed into his hand. He put his other hand on top to make sure he didn’t make a noise. He didn’t need Tubbo nor Ranboo to discover how pathetic he was. They had their family. They were happy. They didn’t need Wilbur. No one did. Tommy held a grudge against him, Technoblade thought of him as an annoying child who couldn’t handle himself, and Tubbo only took him in out of pity. 

And that didn’t even touch on Ranboo. Ranboo must’ve hated him by now. He asked a few too many questions, lingered on topics a little too long. 

He supposed that Michael cared about him. But at such an age, the kid probably cared about every little piece of grass. He wasn’t special. He was just another blade of grass that could barely make an impact. His unfinished symphony was a finished crater covered in glass, his name typically regarded out of spite instead of love. The feeling was mutual. 

“I- why did neither of you say goodbye? I thought after 6 months apart you would be constantly talking, since being in here is really lonely…” Ghostbur’s voice started to crack as small cries escaped from him. “I thought time makes the heart grow fonder, not angry and sad. No, bitter. That's a better word for it.”

Wilbur spluttered slightly, as he scoffed through the sobs. “No no, it’s… Thank you, Ghostbur, but it’s-” he stopped, his eyes widening, and his heart seeming to take a break from beating for one fleeting moment. “Excuse me-” he said, his eyebrows suddenly furrowed, “How long did you say we’d been apart?”

“Half a month. No, wait, half a year but also six months since they’re the same. Well, there’s probably a few more days added-”

Ghostbur was cut off by Wilbur’s astonished words, “I- I wasn’t there six months.”

The disbelief rang through his ears louder than Ghostbur could ever speak. Thirteen years hadn’t passed. Thirteen and a half years hadn’t passed.

Six months.

Just six months.

[tostito-road]

When there's a storm, we stay inside (One-shot)

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

Souma was separating the beans on the counter top, making sure there were no left over stones before dropping them on to the strainer.

It was Mexican week at the Polar Star dormitory, the gang was exploring cousines of the world. Today was Souma's turn to cook, he had found the recipe on a cooking channel, sure he struggled to understand what the lady said with his basic spanish, but he managed with the video captions and google translate.

When he was done, Souma brought the beans to the sink to rinse them, he had to let them soak in water for a few hours.

He took a bean and inspected it before popping it in his mouth, he decided to test how long it would take to turn soft.

The boy set the timer and turned to his tablet, rewinding the video again to try to make out what else the lady was putting in.

Onion, salt, beans, bacon, chorizo, sausage, cilantro. He wrote down.

He was pretty sure they were out of cilantro, it was Isshiki's turn last night making ceviche, and that pretty much used up all of the cilantro left.

Souma glanced out the kitchen window, it was pretty dark and cloudy out, but it hadn't started raining yet, he could probably run to the store and come back before it started raining.

He cleaned up the kitchen a little bit and took off his apron. Placing it on the hook, he walked to the stairs leading up to the rooms.

"Guys! You want anything? I'm going to the store!" He yelled out.

A light voice came from the top of the stairs. "Souma? Are you sure? It looks like it's going to rain." Megumi looked at him.

He leaned his head on his hand and looked up at her. "Sure, don't worry, it isn't supposed to start raining till five. Do you want anything?"

She gave him a sheepish smile. "Well, Isshiki and Daigo said they wanted some orange frizzy soda." She tought for a second. "And I've been craving some ice cream for a while."

"Awesome, mint chocolate right?" He responded.

She smiled and nodded "Thanks."

"Megumi!!!!! C'mon we're playing another round!" Yuki yelled from above.

"Coming!!"

"Be careful and don't come back to late okay?" She gave Souma a quick smile before disappearing upstairs.

He chuckled and walked toward the door, putting on his hoodie and grabbing his keys and wallet before stepping outside. The air was fresh and chilly. He loved cloudy days. They always felt like days where he didn't have to rush, because it was like the whole city would slow down. He loved spending cloudy days inside, with a warm cup of tea and a nice book, yes just like those tumblr girls.

He crossed the street to wait on the bench for the bus, hands now searching for heat in his pockets. It only got this cold in this weather, just last week they had been in a whooping 40 degrees Celsius. He often thought that if the end of the world came, it should come on a nice chill weather like this.

The bus arrived.

The minute Souma stepped out from the bus into another street, it was like a completely different place, the streets were bursting with people and shops already with their lights on due to the dimming light in the sky.

He walked around before finding a small grocery store. He decided to pick up what the others had wanted first, he fetched the orange frizzy sodas, and went to look for Megumi's ice cream, problem was, they were all out. He stood there contemplating what to do before deciding to buy the sodas and the cilantro and keep looking for the Ice cream somewhere else.

He paid and continued his search. Souma went to a total of five stores in his disappointing search for the ice cream. He couldn't for the life of god figure out why none of the stores had that ordinary flavor. So at his sixth store where he was throughly searching the ice cream aisle, an employee offered to help him find what he was looking for.

"Mint chocolate ice cream." He stared at the employee, with what he could only imagine was a crazy look.

"Ah yes!" He eagerly helped, fishing out one of the containers from the freezer. "This is mint chocolate, they just changed the name recently. See here." He pointed to a tiny writing in the bottom. "It says mint chocolate. Sorry for the confusion." He handed the container to Souma.

Souma stared at it with a defeated look. Of course it was. It was also the same container that he had seen in the past five stores.

He sighed before paying for the container. He nocited that he had probably spent about two hours searching for the ice cream that he almost forgot about his soaking beans and that he was on dinner duty. So he rushed out the store into a pouring street. The shops were closing and the only people rushed to the nearest shelter. Rain hit the ground heavily and a single drop rolled down the shop's cover and smacked Souma in the head. He was gonna have to make a run for it.

He pulled his hood over his head and yanked the strings to tie it securely. And he dashed into the rain. His shoes got wet and he could feel his hoodie start to stick to his back, but he couldn't help the tiny feeling of joy he got of running in the rain.

The breeze wet his face and he was almost sure that he was going to catch a cold from this but finally he reached the safety of the bus stop and untied his hood, falling back into the metal seat to wait for the bus. The smell of wet sand cluttered the air and he took a deep breath in and out, letting out a content sigh. The colors of the lights shone on the pavement, painting a picture that he couldn't quite describe. The sky rumbled.

Finally the bus came, empty compared to when he got on earlier. After a few minutes and almost at his stop he noticed a girl sitting at the bus stop holding an umbrella.

"Megumi?" He asked as he got off the bus.

Megumi leaped and gave him a tight hug around the waist. Surprised, he blushed.

"Im sorry, I'm just relieved, you were taking too long and then I tried to call you but you left your phone at the dorm and I know you didn't have a rain jacket or an umbrella with you so I came to wait for when you came back." She got out in one breath.

Souma chuckled sheepishly "Yeah, I got caught up with something."

Megumi sighed in relief. "Well c'mon, let's go back."

"Sure, here" he grabbed the umbrella. "I can carry that."

"So why'd you take so long?" Megumi asked as they started walking.

"Hehe, you see, funny story...."

And they walked back to the dorm talking.

Souma slammed the door open, loudly announcing his return.

"Souma you might want to change before you get cooking." Megumi grinned at his wet clothes. But then she squealed as Souma suddenly engulfed her in a hug, getting her clothes wet in the progress.

So they both changed and Souma went into the kitchen to start on everything else. After cutting all of the ingredients and adding them to the boiling pot of beans he only had to let them simmer. After about an hour dinner was served and he carefully arranged some leaves of cilantro on the plates for a finishing touch.

Everyone came down to eat, they even invited Takumi and Alice for a taste. And as expected they were blown away by the taste. Souma only had the video lady to thank.

And finally when everyone ate and left, Souma sat by the window with a cup of tea and just stared outside, catching glimpses of the lightning and counting the seconds to the thunder. A trick his dad taught him as a kid, to determine how many kilometers away the lightning had struck. Of course it probably wasn't actually accurate, nonetheless he enjoyed it.

----------------‐--------

The only light came from outside and the occasional lightning. He took a sip and sat in silence.

Sometimes, I really fall in love with life. He thought.

The sound of steps made him look back. "Hey, wanna join me?"

"Sure." A sleepy Megumi answered. Souma handed her a cup of tea.

A flash of lightning appeared.

"Hey, you wanna know a cool trick?"

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

So thats the end of this one-shot, I wanted to make it more about just a chill Souma loving life. Also I'm sorry that I started almost every paragraph with He, I didn't realize until later. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I only checked it twice.

Anyway, I hope you love it as much as I did writing it, and let me know if you want to see more one-shots like this. And let me know if your dad also fed you that lightning-thunder trick.❤

[creationcitystreet-em]

His Southern Belle 1

Masterlist Full book 1 summary in the link

Chapter 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (face claim: Rose Leslie)

Word count: ~2450

Summary: Maddi starts her new school in Brooklyn and meets some new friends.

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I started this fic when I was still in high school, and I have worked really hard on it since. I’m not a fan of some of my writing from earlier chapters, but I don’t want to change them until I at least finish writing the entire story. I will be updating this fic here on tumblr one chapter a day until I am caught up with where I am at on the other platforms I’ve posted it. If you’d like to read ahead of that schedule, you can check them out on from the links on my masterlist. I just also wanted to make the fic available here on tumblr with the rest of my fandom interactions, so this is the plan to do that!

Unless otherwise indicated, all date entries are from Maddi’s POV.

September 5, 1932

I stood in front of the small class while my new teacher introduced me. I was in my best knee length dress trying to make the best first impression but I quickly realized the style in my hometown was very different from that of teenagers in New York. The girls seemed to have a little more money than my family as they wore nicer clothes and styled their hair to the newest fashion. My long red curls were probably a little too messy and I didn't wear the same socks and shoes as the them. I tried not to show how uncomfortable I felt when our teacher asked me to say my name to the class. I smiled and said "My name is Madeline Bennett, but my Mama and Daddy called me Maddi." I immediately heard laughter from the students and it made me feel twice as self conscious. It must be my accent, people in Brooklyn definitely sounded different than those in Tennessee. As soon as the teacher let me sit, I chose the only empty seat next to small and skinny boy with blond hair. He smiled at me but it was not cruel like the other kids when I walked to my seat, so I gave a small smile back.

During lunch, I sat alone until I heard the sound of a boy talking in front of me, "hey new girl, you know I can show you around if you want. I know some great places we can sneak off to together." I politely declined as I could tell his intentions did not seem innocent. He continued to push "Come on, look I know a lot of people laughed at you in class, but I can keep you safe baby doll. Once you're with me, nobody will be laughing." I immediately looked back down at my food trying to ignore the group of boys as they snickered behind the nameless boy who talked to me. I could tell this was probably a trick considering they were clearly still mocking me like before, and I just wanted to be left alone. I tried to hold back tears as I thought about how much I wished I could go back home with my family. I didn't want to be in Brooklyn hundreds of miles away from the only home I ever knew. I didn't want make new friends or learn how to live with a new family I barely knew. I wanted my safe little town where everyone knew who I was and nobody would dare pick on me unless they wanted my brother going after them. I missed my brother more than I ever would have admitted to him.

Just then, two more boys came to my table and I thought it would only get worse. "Leave her alone Jason, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you right now," the smaller of the two said. I now recognized him as the boy I sat next to in class.

"Alright Rogers, what are you going to do to stop me?" It was a fair questions, the boy was half a foot smaller than Jason and clearly much skinnier than the already developing teen.

"Listen Gally, I know you can see me standing right next to Steve here so you clearly should know when to keep your mouth shut. Now the lady said no earlier so I think you should respect her wishes and take your friends and leave." Jason Gally stared at the taller boy, who looked more like a man, and finally decided to leave. I continued to remain frozen in place after everything that happened, until I saw the two that helped me start to walk away as well.

"Wait!" I called to them as I wanted to tell them I appreciated what they did. They turned around and looked at me and I gathered up all the courage I had left to keep talking despite knowing they will clearly hear my accent. "Thank you for that. I got your name, Steve, but I didn't really catch yours," I said to the taller one.

"James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

"Well Bucky, Steve, thank you again."

"It was no problem, Maddi right?" Steve questioned to make sure he remembered my name correctly. I was pleasantly surprised and nodded my head yes.

I took a leap of faith and suddenly asked, "would y'all like to sit with me?" They stared at me for a second and I tried to explain myself quickly, "It's just that I'm new and don't have any friends yet. You two were so kind to stand up for me and I just wanted to know if maybe you would want to sit with me." I prayed I didn't just scare the two nice people in front of me off, but then they looked at each other and sat down across the table from me. I started to smile as they began to ask me about where I was from and why I moved to Brooklyn. "I'm from Tennessee, and I moved here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. They're the only family I really have left." they stayed quiet knowing I didn't want to go too deep into that subject just yet. The two nodded and didn't push anymore about it. I was very grateful for that.

It was towards the end of lunch and Steve said "Well Maddi, I'm glad we met you. Bucky is a year older than us but we still hang out after school. Where do you live, maybe we can walk home together?" I told them the general area I moved to and they both eagerly said they lived near there. We made plans to meet after school and for a brief second I thought that maybe moving to the big city wouldn't have been as terrible as I initially thought. I wished I could be back home, but knowing that I would never get to go back, having a couple friendly people here was the best I could ask for.

September 24, 1932

“How has school been going, Maddi?” Aunt Lily asked as I ate dinner with her and Uncle Ryan.

“Alright. I made a couple friends, but I don’t really seem to fit in with the class. They dress and talk different than back home.” I played with my food a bit while I thought about how the last couple weeks have been. Steve and Bucky were definitely very nice to call friends and I liked spending time with them, but girls still gave me strange looks and boys would bother me if I wasn’t with my new companions.

“Well, our neighbors have a granddaughter on the other side of town about a year or two older than you. I’ll see if she has any extra dresses you can have,” Aunt Lily offered. I knew she and Uncle Ryan felt bad for not having enough money to spend on me, but I really didn’t mind. With their two children already grown and moved across the country, they didn’t exactly plan to pay for an extra mouth to feed. Times were hard enough as it was without unexpected expenses. I never actually met these family members before: we never had the money to travel, but I heard about them a lot.

September 30, 1932

I wore my new dress that seemed to match more with the girls at school and it made me feel a little less nervous, but I also felt sad to be giving up more and more from my life in Tennessee. I sat with Steve and Bucky at lunch like I did everyday, and we talked about frivolous things until I asked Steve what was in the book he always carried around.

“It’s a sketch pad, I like to draw,” he said shyly.

“Can I see?” I asked and he hesitantly handed me his sketch pad and I flipped through the pages in awe. Each piece of paper had beautifully drawn pictures of buildings and landscapes. He had a few with people, but one close up of a young woman and man who looked in their early 20s. “Who are they?” I curiously questioned.

“That’s my parents,” he said quietly. “It’s from a picture when they were newly married. I don’t really remember my dad, he died in the Great War.”

“I’m sorry,” I said hoping I didn’t make him feel sad as I knew how it felt to lose a parent. “I lost my ma when I was young too, not as young but still I was 5 when she got sick.”

“Is that why you moved?” Bucky asked me.

“No, I still lived with my daddy and brother, Alex, until this summer when a storm hit and they both died. I was with a friend when it hit and a tornado took down my entire house and my family inside.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry Maddi,” Steve said as I fought back a few tears thinking about what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. I was lucky to have Aunt Lily and Uncle Ryan to take me when they heard, and now I got to meet you two so that’s good I guess.” I tried to look towards the better things in situations but it was always hard.

“Well, you’re officially our friend so there’s no getting out of it now,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Only now it’s official? What has been the last month then?” I asked with a laugh.

“A trial friendship,” Steve stated smiling.

“Yeah, just to make sure you weren’t crazy or anything” said Bucky.

“I’m glad y’all think I’m worthy of being your friend then!” I winked at them as I continued the joke. We all laughed as we finished our food and headed back to class for the day.

December 24, 1932

“The snow is so beautiful on Christmas,” I sighed as I walked through the park with Steve and Bucky like we sometimes did together.

“It sure is, but I’ve always wanted to see snow where there were no buildings in sight. Just miles of it with nothing else to mess the blanket of white up,” Steve told me as we saw children running through the already played in snow.

“That is a sight to see, but I think that's just wasted? Look at how happy all this available snow makes everyone, that’s something worth drawing.” I said this as I knew that was one of the reasons he probably liked the idea of untouched snow: to be able to draw the scene. “Draw me and Bucky!”

“What?” Bucky questioned, not sure what he had to do with this topic.

“Draw us playing in the snow,”  I requested with a smile. Bucky quickly got the idea and ran towards a clean pile. He made a snowball and threw it directly at me hitting me on the shoulder. “Alright Barnes, you have it coming to you now!” and I laughed while I ran to make a snowball as well except I missed when throwing it at him. He laughed at me until I made another and hit him square in the face. I heard a chuckle from Steve and I looked over at him sitting on a nearby bench watching us and making small rough sketches in his book. “Come one Steve, put it to memory and come play with us!” He looked slightly surprised for a second until he put his book down and came over to join our snowball fight. We did this for about an hour until we sat down on the bench to rest. Steve quickly went right back to his book to continue his scene he started on. We sat in silence for a while just taking in the day.

“What are your holiday plans, Maddi?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t really talked about it. We’ll probably go to Mass tonight and I got a small present for my aunt and uncle tomorrow. I don’t really expect much of a present for myself; besides, my favorite part has always been Christmas Eve Mass. My daddy and Alex and I would go and then always visit mama after. I guess I can’t see any of them this year since their all buried in Tennessee.” I had never really thought of that until now and it quickly took away all of my joy from playing in the snow before. “They would have liked you guys,” I added before they could reply. “You're both gentlemen and passionate about what you care for.”

“They’d like Bucky,” Steve tried to clarify as he continued to draw.

“No, they’d like you both,” I told him with confidence. “Especially you, your heart is much more kind than this silly guy sitting next to me,” I laughed as I sat between them and gestured towards Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky said with a smile. “Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!” Steve just stayed quiet and had a slight blush on his face.

I put my arms around both their necks and said “thank you for making Brooklyn more bearable.”

“You did that,” Steve said as he looked at me and I smiled back at him.

December 25, 1932

There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it. When I opened the door, Steve stood there waiting and I gave him a surprised smile. “Hey,” he started. “I know today is mostly spending with family so I’ll try to be quick. I just wanted to give you your present.”

“Steve, you didn’t have to get me anything!” I began to feel bad as I had nothing to give in return.

“It’s nothing, here.” He handed me a piece of paper and I saw it was a beautiful drawing of Bucky and I in the snow from the previous day. I just stared at it for a few seconds in awe before he continued, “Sorry it isn’t that detailed, I was trying to finish as quick as I could and the shading might not be-” I cut him off by hugging him.

“I love it!” I said as he wrapped his arms back around me. “I love the art you make, it’s so good. Thank you for giving me one, it really means a lot.” We both let go and and he was redder than I had ever seen him before.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle. We then said our goodbyes and he went back home to spend the rest of the day with his mother.

Next Chapter

[damdahdi-studies]

exam season

the last 2 weeks have been exam season. leading up to exams i ran week-long blocks of distracting websites on my mac, so I haven’t been able to get on tumblr.... so finally updating now: (more like ranting.) 

one math exam left, on thursday morning

exams so far have been.... okay. none of them i feel particularly good about, but overall i think i managed to deal with the stress/anxiety better this semester than last, just a little bit 

some nice things that happened before exams: 

100% in Chinese speaking mock exam, listening and writing section of written mock exam. i didn’t really realise it until i looked back on my old posts and read how i felt after first set of exams just now, but i have come ... maybe not a long way, but some kind of way :] at the time i was very insecure about just myself and barely believed i could improve on my own; yet i did to a standard i never could’ve dreamed even start of this year. 

somehow obtained 90% in an oral presentation i made about The Crucible by Arthur Miller. i still don’t know how I did it, but I’m glad i improved from the 60s i got last semester in presentations. public speaking still felt like hell though 

top female scorer in my state for some maths competition. also have no idea how i did this, i thought i would get distinction at best. 

changed piano teachers (previous teacher recommended the new one) 

dress for year 12 ball next year arrived. it’s a soft grey pretty thing 

my birthday was during exam season :/ 

also first set of my own prayer beads arrived. have been using them daily since 

reflecting on each subject: (so I can read back on this after i get my marks back and be like haha....  you fool.) 

Literature: better than last time is all i can say... it was okay (still felt like hell during the exam because it’s Literature) managed time during exam slightly better, I didn’t panic as much, but that’s about it lmao i’m crossing my fingers for a low 70s and double crossing for an A. i wasn’t able to or simply didn’t contribute much effort/time to literature this semester, so a B wouldn’t really be a fuck-i-tried-so-hard-why-did-i-get-this-grade kind of punch in the gut, but it would be really nice to not break an all A streak... but I highly suspect I will get a B

Methods (maths): exam was harder than i expected. hoping for a 90s though, a mark that wont bring my average down. i think i was best prepared for methods compared to other subjects, emphasis on COMPARED to other subjects. -_- 

Physics: ahh physics. a whole debacle happened during the exam, please see below. other than that the exam was... kind of expected difficulty? which is difficult, but it wasn’t terrible-terrible. i’m hoping for an 80s. i really can’t hope for much, i was probably delirious half the time. i did manage to ‘finish’ (attempt every question) though i wish i got more time... i couldn’t double check many questions and there was this one question i wanted to spend more time on but oh well... 

summary: i threw up once before the exam, twice during.  

ate a blueberry bagel with cream cheese, with some salmon on top for breakfast. looking back, it was probably the salmon. 

didn’t feel good after. got to school feeling pretty sick in the stomach and a pretty bad headache.... which escalated to one of the worst headaches ive had in the last 3 years in 20 minutes 

at this point i could tell something was wrong and that i was about to throw up 

went to the toilet, tried to throw up whatever was causing pain to my body, but couldn’t. only ended up scaring away some poor kid in the next cubicle 

FIRST TIME: left toilet. sit still for 10 minutes outside, feeling progressively worse. go back to the toilet, then throw up a lot. gargle, wash face, go back to find everyone filing into the exam room. 

feeling slightly better at this point since ive thrown up (i thought i had emptied most of my stomach by then. spoiler alert: no) and decide internally to just do the exam. (if i don’t, then i would have to fill out some form, probably do the exam way later. too annoying) 

SECOND TIME: so i sit the exam. 5-6 minutes into reading time, i feel another wave of throwing up coming. i raise my hand, i’m at the very back of the hall, so examiner takes a bit to notice. my brainwashed ass brain thinks i can’t stand up and leave without the examiners spoken permission, so i persist in sitting in my seat for around 10 seconds until she’s there, i’m already throwing up in my mouth at this point. finally something snaps and i make a break for the toilet, but it’s too late and i throw up all over the floor. in the exam hall. Fuck. i immediately apologise on the spot. 

examiner leads me to toilet. i throw up some more. gargle, wash face. she asks me to step outside for a couple of minutes for fresh air and i do. 5 minutes later she comes back and asks me if i want to continue the exam. i say yes. we go back in, the vomit is gone from the floor. she moves my seat closer to the exit, and tells me i can bolt out whenever i need to throw up. i sit the exam. 

some time after this, the other examiner leaves a vomit bag next to me just in case

THIRD TIME: an hour in? i feel another wave coming. i grab the vomit bag, make a dash for the toilets but the stupid old door won’t open properly. the examiner helps me open the door and i throw up in the toilets, in the vomit bag this time. it’s not as much as the previous two times. tie up the bag, throw it in the bin, gargle, wash face. 

instinctively i feel that this is the last time i’ll throw up, that i’ve truly emptied everything from my stomach this time. headache is way weaker at this point. 

go back in and examiner asks me if i’m really sure i want to continue the exam, whether or not if i want to fill in a form excusing myself from the exam. i say no.

about an hour left in the exam, which i sit in utter peace 

didn’t get any extra time. 

apologised to some people around me after the exam while filing out of the hall... i suffered but they did too. 

went home and drank some stomach soothing tea. slept

ate porridge for the next 2 days. 

Chemistry: it was.... okay. i did finish and attempt every question. there were a couple of questions in multiple choice i was iffy about and a question in short answer i was like um... what? to, but other than that it was.... eh. i didn’t study much for it, so whatever mark i get i deserve. if i do defend myself it was 3 days after the shit show that was the physics exam, and i felt sick for at least a day after.... but yeah. should’ve tried more. 

during reading time, the examiner who saved my life put the vomit bag on my desk in the physics exam came and asked me if i was feeling better 

i said i’m feeling good thanks : ) 

like an hour later? i feel sickness coming. not stomach this time, just general sickness. somehow i get a fever and subsequently, the FLU in the middle of the chem exam- 

i highly suspect i got it from the examiner 

come back home to find out that i really do have a fever

this was yesterday. yes i’m sick now. like, more sick. 

Chinese: this was today. i’m still kind of too traumatised to reflect on it properly. Chinese is the only subject that ive studied the yr 12 course for this year, so this exam really counts. like 35% of my final grade counts kind of counts. and i did pretty bad. like pretty bad. it was definitely more difficult than the mock exams, and the recordings in listening section were quicker than previous years. the writing section was... traumatising while writing i kind of had a wave of anxiety/panic hit me? i could feel my heartbeat my face was burning and i started sweating ;-; and even the reading section, which is usually okay, was a bit hard. i’ll get the marks back and my final grade for this subject in December - we’ll see until then. got a slightly overdue birthday present before the exam tho :) 

So yup. that’s my exam season. i’m typing this instead of studying for my maths exam day after tomorrow but hey, i’m sick and need rest, right? 

overall, these exams i managed to keep control of my stress a bit better, i wasn’t so overwhelmed like last time. last semester i could barely live, literally. this time i made the habit of living at the library which i found really helpful and comparatively productive, i’ll definitely be using that strategy more often. i’m just glad i managed to study SOMETHING or prepare for exams explicitly this time, because i was simply too overwhelmed to do that last time. i improved. maybe not by much, maybe it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s better than none... 

i’m not saying i don’t have regrets or shortcomings in these exams. i definitely do. DeFinITEly. but doesn’t mean i didn’t improve. i did improve. just, maybe not as much as i wanted. 

i really learned to the bone this time that learning during the semester is so, so important. i think that’s just a wisdom i’ll have to carry through the rest of my academic career. 

wish me luck for my maths exam on Thursday 

my friends and ive already planned an outing for after the exams :) 

also getting overdue birthday presents next monday! :D 

[nomattertheoceans]

I made you a promise - chapter 16

Before I let you read on, a few important announcements.

I will be leaving tumblr from Sunday 21st, until I’ve read Kingdom of Ash. Because I’ve already put my spoiler tags up, and still I started to see things about the book (I don’t know how these people got their hands on the book, but how about using some tags, people? I’m so angry about it, I don’t want to dwell on it and ruin your day too….)

Knowing myself and how I read, I’ll probably start reading it on Friday 26th, and will hopefully have finished it on Sunday or something.

Once I come back to tumblr, this blog will definitely not be spoiler free!!! I will be using these tags on every koa post I share: “koa spoilers”, “koa spoiler”, “kingdom of ash spoiler” and “kingdom of ash spoilers” That way, if you want to avoid any spoilers, just filter at least one of these tags and you’ll be safe in my blog.

Regarding the fic: this might be my last update in a while. In November, I won’t be updating it at all, because I’ll spend the month of November  developing my original story, and I can’t focus on my story if I keep thinking about my fics. So I’ll try to get a chapter out between the moment when I’ll finish Kingdom of Ash, and the beginning of November, but nothing certain. In any case, whether it be this chapter or the next one, I promise I won’t leave you guys on a big cliffhanger hahahaha (I’m really not that cruel ^^), and I also promise that I am in no way abandoning this fic, and will be back in December! I just need some time for my other project :)

Anyway, that’s it I guess. Thank you so so much to everyone who reads, likes, comments,... I love it all!!

@highladyofherondale @amazinginglyawesomeperson @illyrianbeauty

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Feyre sat down at her small desk after lunch, a smile lingering on her face. She’d just eaten with Rhys, and at some point during the meal, he’d casually referred to her as his girlfriend, before realizing what he’d said and looking at her with dread in his eyes. She hadn’t been able to stop her laugh at the sight of him freaking out, a warm feeling spreading in her heart at the idea that he considered her his girlfriend, that it had come as naturally to him as it had to her. Still smiling, she opened her inbox to check emails, somewhat mindlessly reading through them, thinking - and blushing - about something Rhys had whispered in her ear before leaving her at the door. Something about making his girlfriend moan when he…

There was an email from New York. From John, the author she’d met with the week before. And the email was titled: “John Helvar - Illustrated edition - Trip to NYC?” She opened it frantically and read what he’d written to her:

From: john.helvar@gmail.com

To: arch.feyre@gmail.com

Email sent on: Tuesday, October 30th at 1:04 p.m.

Feyre,

How are you?

I’m writing to you as a follow up of our meeting in Velaris last week. I was charmed by all of the ideas you presented to me, and showed them to my publisher on Friday. She also liked them, and would like to meet you and discuss them further before making a final decision. We’re both available at the beginning of next week, and would like for you to come to New York for a few days. It would be a trip from Sunday afternoon until Wednesday morning, allowing us two full days to work. The publishing house would pay for your plane tickets and your hotel.

Let me know before Thursday if you’re available, to book everything for you.

Looking forward to seeing you soon in New York,

John.

She wasn’t sure she was breathing. He wanted her to come to New York. To meet his publisher. To craft a contract. Which meant he wanted to work with her, he wanted her to create every single one of the illustrations for his books. An entire collection, with about 100 to 150 pages per book. After meeting her twice, he trusted her enough to agree to working with her for the next few months, the next few years. She felt her heart racing in her chest, her breathing became jagged and her hands were shaking.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go to New York and meet with these people when she had to drag herself out of bed every morning, when she found every drawing she made harder than the last. Not when she’d been unable to pick up a paintbrush for months, her only drawings being those requested for work. She’d felt sort of confident during the meetings with him, but it hadn’t been serious. For all that she wanted and needed this job, she hadn’t considered the possibility that he might actually choose her. Her vision blurred and she realized she was crying. The realization woke her up and she tried to force her body to calm down. Nothing was decided yet, she thought, clenching at her desk to keep herself grounded, he simply wanted her to meet the rest of the team that was working on the project. Maybe he didn’t even want to work only with her, maybe she would be part of a bigger team of illustrators and her work wouldn’t even be noticed.

But it didn't work, she was still panicking, tears still rolled down on her cheeks. Without thinking, she picked up her phone and dialed.

***

The day was beautiful. Granted, it was raining, and he was freezing, and he had about a zillion paperwork to finish before he could go home tonight. But how could this day not be beautiful, when he’d just had lunch with his wonderful girlfriend - it was official now - and she was coming to his place to spend the night. He’d have to buy some stuff for her if she started to sleep at his house more regularly, like a toothbrush, some of her shampoo, maybe some stuff for her period if she wanted, a hairbrush,...

He was driven away from his mental shopping list by the vibrations of his phone in his pocket. Smiling at the name on the screen, he answered:

“Hey you, miss me already?”

“Oh Gods Rhys, I’m freaking out.” Her voice was stranded, and her breathing frantic.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I am. It’s just…. I received an email from the guy I met with the other week. He wants me to go to New York next week to meet his publishing team.”

“Feyre, that’s great!” He wasn’t really an expert in the publishing world, but the author wanting her to meet with his publisher was bound to be a good sign.

“I… Yeah I guess it is.” But her voice was flat, and he started wondering what was in this email that got her so freaked out.

“Darling, what’s going on? You don’t sound pleased.”

“No, I am.” A pause. “I am. See you tonight at your place?”

“Y - yes, sure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

But she had already hung up before his question was over.

***

She refused to approach the subject of New York for the entire evening, cleverly avoiding talking about it, and bluntly staring at him when he tried to bring it up. So they ate in near silence, Rhys trying and failing to make her open up to him, and then keeping quiet, hoping she might feel better if he left her alone. They washed the dishes, turned off the lights and got up to his bedroom. He was fishing out a clean pair of underpants to sleep in when he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, seated on his bed, her hand tucked between her thighs, crying silently. He turned around and hurried to her, kneeling down in front of her.

“Feyre, what’s going on?”

She avoided his eyes, and was clenching her hands together, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. Still without looking at him, she said: “Are you… Are you mad at me?”

“What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well… I don’t know. Because I didn’t want to talk about New York, and you might think I want to hide something from you, and be mad.” Her voice had grown quieter as she talked, and she looked so sad, Rhys decided then and there that if he ever met her ex-boyfriend, he wouldn’t mind punching him in the face once or twice.

“Feyre, please, look at me.” And he was pleading her, pleading because he wanted her to look into his eyes and understand that he would never react like that, with her or anyone else. She met his eyes but she was still sobbing silently, her beautiful face stained by tears, and her eyes red. “Feyre, you don’t have to tell me everything. Ever. If you don’t want to tell me about something, it’s absolutely fine, and normal.” He rested his hands on her thighs gently. “I simply stopped talking about it because I thought I was annoying you, and I thought you’d feel better if I left it alone. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

He stopped talking and let her cry, not wanting to make her feel like she had to stop before she felt better. She cried for a while longer, and then she managed to calm down enough to take in deep breaths. He got up from his knees, sat down beside her and gently took her head between his hand. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, and slowly, so that she’d understand what he was doing and stop him if she wanted to, he hugged her. She gripped his jumper and he tightened his grip on her back, pulling her even closer to him.

“I don’t think I’m going to go to New York,” her voice was a mere whisper, as if she was indeed telling him a secret, but she was steady.

“Can I ask you why?” He kept his voice equally low.

“I don’t think it’s going to be worth it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not good enough to do this job, Rhys. And even if I was, even if the people I’d met with liked my work… I would never be able to deliver.”

“Why would you think that? You’ve been doing this job for years.”

“But this is different. It’s… It’s such a big commitment. If I do agree to work with them, I’ll probably be involved in this project for years. It’s seven books to illustrate. It would take so long, and I can’t guarantee them that I’ll be able to manage it.”

He gently forced her to move away from him so that he could look her in the eyes when he answered:

“Feyre, this is your job, and from what you’ve shown me, you’re pretty good at it. I have no doubt that if you start working with them, you’ll deliver every single piece of art they need. And every single one of them will be beautiful.”

She gave him a sad smile, and it broke his heart a little, because he could see that she didn’t believe him, that she simply smiled because she thought he was only trying to reassure her. Gods, he wanted to help her so much it hurt, he could feel his heart break at the sight of her being so sad. He couldn’t stand to know that she didn’t believe in herself, when he himself believed in her more than he could express. And it seemed that there was nothing he could say or do that would change her feeling of being worthless.

“Feyre, why do you think you can’t manage?”

“Because… My job, it’s not serious. Working with your hobby, that’s not something serious, that’s not something you can do for your entire life. Drawing and painting, I never learned properly, I was never trained. And untrained skills are useless in the professional world, I wouldn’t be able to hold my own in such a big project.”

And then he knew. He knew why she was feeling so unconfident. And he was boiling with rage at the idea. But he needed to be sure:

“Did he tell you that? Did he call your talents useless and tell you that you couldn’t work with them?” Her silence was answer enough, and he wanted to cry. “Shit Feyre. You are so talented. What you’re able to create, what comes to life under your touch, it’s a gift. And it’s beautiful. Maybe you weren’t trained, but I have absolutely no doubt that you’ll be able to meet any challenge that comes your way. You’re strong, and you’re stubborn enough not to let anyone tell you otherwise.” She chuckled slightly at that, sniffing after her tears, “Feyre, I think you should go to New York, because you might regret it if you don’t. And I’m sure you won’t regret going. Worse thing happens, you don’t like it, you tell them that you don’t want to work with them, and you come back home. Free trip to New York!”

She actually laughed at his sloppy attempt at a joke, and wiped her eyes to get rid of the last tears lingering in them. His chest tightened, and he resisted the urge to take her in his arms again, allowing her space to breathe. When she looked at him once more, there was still sadness in her eyes, but it was coated with a joyful brightness that reflected in her smile. She advanced and kissed him fully, her lips wet and salty, and he kissed her back, hugging her against him.

***

She arrived at her desk the next morning rested and smiling softly. What had happened the night before had been… amazing. Rhysand had been amazing. She’d had one of her most awful days in a long time, and still he had found the right words, given her the exact amount of reassuring and affection and space to sort it out. He’d given her space, had allowed her to cry for as long as she’d needed it, not commenting on it, not asking for her to calm down. And she had felt so much better afterwards. She couldn’t exactly say that she was confident about her abilities to work on the project, but at least she was ready to try. She opened her computer and typed an answer:

RE: John Helvar - Illustrated edition - Trip to NYC?

From: arch.feyre@gmail.com

To: john.helvar@gmail.com

Draft written on: Wednesday, October 31st at 9:12 a.m.

Hello John,

Thank you for your email. I am thrilled that you liked my ideas for your book, and would love to come to New York next week to discuss it further with you and your associates. I am available on the dates you gave me, so feel free to book those days for our meeting. Please find enclosed a copy of my personal information for any booking you might have to make regarding this trip.

Looking forward to seeing you again,

Greetings from Velaris.

Feyre.

Looking at her screen, she exhaled loudly and clicked send, afraid she might lose her nerves if she waited any longer.

She was going to New York.

[rayonfrozenwings]

Series: renee celebrates 1K (on tumblr) by writing from follower prompts

- you can still send me prompts to my ask box.

This is a continuation of The ROWAELIN COFFEE SHOP PROMPT sent in.

AO3 Links  :  Part 1 :  Part 2 : Part 3 : AO3 series Link.

Tumblr Links: Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Another coffee Shop? Part 3

wc/  2487

The bar was quiet, a DJ come bartender served them some drinks and brought them them the bistro menu. It was still too early for dancing, they should have gone and gotten burgers first, cheaper and more satisfying. Aelin glanced at the menu and ordered some wedges with sour cream and extra bacon and cheese, Lysandra ordered some fancy deep fried cheese things that Aelin was going to steal off her plate when it arrived and the two boys also ordered some deep fried options.

“We could have gotten the same stuff for considerably less down the street” Aelin said.

“Yes, but then your friend would have had to walk even farther in her heels.” Rowan replied.

Aelin looked down, as if this was the first moment she noticed Lysandra’s high heels.

“Were you wearing those at uni?” she asked.

Lysandra nodded and took a sip of her Chocolate Martini, after a moment she said to Aelin, “I don’t think we can be friends if you don’t even notice my shoes.”  

Aelin laughed, “I just mean, that we walked all the way from Uni, then to Rowan’s place, and then to that stupid door and now here, and you are still wearing them!”.

“I live in my heels, I like the idea that I can use them to stab someone through the heart if I need to.” She said it with a lightheartedness in her tone, yet Aelin wondered if there was some truth to it.

“I guess Rowan is chilviarious then - who would have known” Fenrys piped up, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

Their food arrived and Aelin stole from everyone else's plates, no-one seemed to mind, like a communal feast of fried treats. Their drinks were topped up and the laughter carried on as they talked and got to know each other. Aelin loved Lysandra, this girl had a no-nonsense attitude and seemed to win over everyone she met. Aelin didn’t even warm up to the boys this fast. She hoped that Lysandra would still want to be her friend after this night was over. What a risk she had taken, jumping in boots and all with this friendship. Fenrys was moving around the room, chatting to girls and boys alike, charm oozing from every pore. Lysandra watched from behind her Martini glass and then went and got another drink leaving Aelin with Rowan alone.

“So how often do you come out?” Aelin had been out one other time with Rowan and Fenrys and twice with Fenrys alone as his wingman/lady. It seemed Rowan was reluctant to cross some invisible line that only he knew about.

“I come out when I’m invited.” he said matter of factly, watching the room, arms folded and whisky on the table. His r’s were rolling again, which meant maybe the two whiskies he had already had were making his accent a little stronger. She ate another fried cheese thing of Lysandra’s looking back at the bar to see her talking to the DJ.

“Mmm, me too. I must be more likeable than you, since Fenrys has invited me out more recently.” she watched, waiting for him to react. He didn't - just smiled at her. So she tried again. “Maybe I’m a better wing-man.” she said turning back to the room.

Rowan whispered, “Maybe you are, I don’t waste my time going after things I don’t want to keep.” and Aelin quickly turned back, the shadows in the dark room making it difficult to tell if there was an undercurrent. It certainly felt like there was more to his words. The air went taut between them. He smiled viciously at her, white teeth breaking through the gloom. She couldn’t tell if it was the lighting or if he always looked this fierce.

Her tone lowered, face downcast as she said, “Mr Whitethorn, you wouldn’t even know when something good was right in front of you.”

He picked up his drink and took another sip, the smell of the golden liquid filled the space between them. The silence stretching on as they both refused to drop the stare of the other one.

“Hey, any of those cheese things left” Fenrys returned, his hand clasped Aelin’s shoulder and she looked up to him as he leaned over scanning the table.

“I think Aelin ate them all.” Rowan deadpanned.

“Aww Aelin, you need to learn how to share! I share all the time! By the way, Do you think Lysandra likes me?” Aelin started to laugh and looked to the woman in question still talking to the DJ.

“Sorry Fenrys, I think you missed your opportunity.” pointing to Lysandra and the DJ as she said it.

He looked over his shoulder and sat back down next to them. “Damn, I’m not having any luck tonight, must be because I rushed my hair.”

“Or Lorcan’s not here to make you look good” Aelin retorted.

“True true, and Rowan is scaring away the others from our table,” he said, Aelin nodded sagely. Rowan pretended to be hurt but then shrugged and finished off his glass.

“I’m getting another Whisky anyone want one?” he said as he left, not really waiting for an answer. Aelin and Fenrys shook their heads and started talking about the potential in the club. Tonight was strange, everything felt a little different. Something was starting but Aelin didn’t know what.

---

Something was definitely in the air, Rowan couldn’t stop looking at Aelin, ever since that comment this morning she had been on his mind. It was a bad idea to go out and get drunk with someone you might actually want to spend more time with. He wasn’t ready. He was too broken. He was bad for her. All these thoughts ran through his head as he waited for his drink at the bar. Lysandra nodded at him through the moving heads at the bar making a beeline towards him. The room was starting to fill up now and her DJ had stopped talking to her to get the music ready.

“So how long have you liked her?” she whispered by his ear, her hand grazing his shoulder and her shoes click-clacked past him.

“Pardon” he said. Hearing her but hoping she would drop the topic.

Lysandra hopped up on a stool next to him and ordered another chocolate Martini, flicking her platinum card over the counter in the process. Maybe she did have money. She certainly acted like it.

“Nevermind, I’m sure I’m right, I’m good at sensing these sorts of things.” she looked around the room again, Fenrys and Aelin had moved towards the dance-floor, the beat thumping through the floor now turning the room into a club rather than a bar. “Do you dance Rowan?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Maybe you should learn to like it or find other ways to keep her interest.” her martini arrived and she went back to the table without him.

Rowan continued to sit at the bar with his whisky, his mood was turning sour. He should leave, watching her dance with Fenrys was a bit much, more people joining the dance floor as time went on. He swallowed the last of his glass and ordered another. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, her legs, the muscles that were clearly underneath the tight jeans as she danced. The confidence she had was like an aura around her, magnetic and enticing. He looked over to their table and Lysandra had a small group of mixed company, sipping their drinks and laughing loudly.

Fenrys continued to move between the two ladies, checking on them and meeting new people, moving between the table and Aelin on the dance-floor. They were all a much better fit than Rowan. Like a perfect set of three. He should have waited until Lorcan was free before trying this again. But Aelin kept pulling him in, all Fenrys had to say at work was “hey want to come out tonight, Aelin is coming ,” and he was there.

Maybe he should go dance.

He took another swig. Looked at his watch, it was still early, he was nearly drunk. How many whiskies had he had now? Rowan walked to the edge of the bar, it was darker and cooler here and he leaned against the wall by a small window, enjoying the breeze coming in. The sea scent calming him. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about her hip shaking and twirling and clear his mind.

“Hey” said the voice he was trying to hard to forget.

“Hey” he said back.

“Want to dance?” she asked, her fingers walking up his arm in a playful manner.

“I’m not sure I’d be coordinated enough, I drank too fast.”

“Ahh that is a problem, maybe we can dance over here, and if you fall the wall can catch you.” her open palm now resting on his bicep. Did she know she was playing with fire?

Rowan looked down at her, Aelin licked her lips and whispered, “If i’m not your type, you just need to say.”

He swallowed, “You’re definitely my type, but i’m not sure you want this.”

Aelin stood on her tippy-toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. Her pupils dilating as she continued to watch him in the dark, hands on him and her body still pressed close. “I know what I want.” was all she said and she went back to the dance floor.

Rowan released the breath he was holiding and tried to think straight. He was in a lot deeper than he realised.

--

Aelin had staked her claim, whether Rowan joined her or not was another thing entirely. Sure it might ruin her work environment. Sure it might end horribly, but all she could think about was the way his body had felt against hers in the darkness.

She made her way back to the dance floor and let the music take her, bending her body and moving to the beat. The crowd moved with her and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead with the exertion and lack of fresh air. How long should she dance, maybe she should just avoid him for the rest of the night rather than face being turned down, and tomorrow morning just pretend that nothing had ever happened. That was always an option. Fenrys and Lysandra joined the dancefloor with the group that had joined them. Aelin didn't care, she kept dancing off to the side, watching Fenrys and Lysandra dance with the new people. Maybe Fenrys would do better tonight after all. The song changed and tempo sped up, she had to take a break. Walking off to the side she found a seat at the bar and ordered a drink to cool herself off. By the time the bartender had brought it back Rowan was standing behind her ready to pay for it.

“I can pay.” she said defensively.

“I know. I want to though.” he said, the whisky breath falling down around her. Luckily she loved the taste, what if she tried to kiss him and he had coffee breath? Would it be like the smell of coffee or the taste? He spoke again and she missed it - completely lost in her own minds wanderings.

“Sorry?”

“I said are you alright? You appeared to be away with the faeries.” he was a lot less fierce in the light of the bar perhaps she had imagined the animalistic chemistry between them.

“Yea, just a bit hot… need some fresh air or something.” she took a sip of the soft drink she had ordered. “I might go outside for a bit.” she said it, hoping for an easy escape - she was not expecting him to say “i’ll come with you.”

They walked outside and a bouncer told them not to go too far, some strange people were on the streets tonight, more seedy than usual. Aelin walked across the street to a bench and sat down on the backrest - feet on the seat. The street light was casting shadows onto the path filtered through the leaves of the spreading tree above them, creating movement where there wasn’t any. Aelin rubbed her arms.

“You cold?” Asked Rowan as he leaned against street lamp.

“Just a little, it's cold out here - it’s good though, its helping me cool down. I must have been so caught up in the moment I didn’t realise how light headed I was getting.”  

Rowan looked around but didn’t say anything making her more nervous.

“Do you think work will be busy tomorrow?” she asked, trying to find neutral topics.

“It’s always busy, whether I feel like dealing with the busy-ness is different.” He took a deep breath, “Lorcan is opening so at least I get a small sleep in.”

Aelin nodded, “Same for me, Maeve said I didn't have to come in until the afternoon, so it's just two classes to wake up for tomorrow, easy day.” she played with the holes in the knees of her jeans.

She looked up at him. He was looking directly at her, she could feel her temperature rising again. She could take a huge risk tonight, would it be worth it?

Aelin jumped off the chair, and smiled, “guess we better go back inside before they wonder where we have gone.”

“I guess.”

The air was so still between them, the summer heat dissipating and the yellow lights hugging their skin like humid afternoon air. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. His lips looked simultaneously hard and soft. How long had she been looking at his lips?

Rowan walked over to her and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, “if you are getting cold we should head back inside.”

“I think i'm fine out here, maybe i’m enjoying the company.”

And Rowan leaned down and kissed her. Her arms tingled where he touched her as his lips pressed up against her own and she opened her mouth to him. At her offer he took more and she could taste the whisky still on his breath. They pulled apart and he leaned his forehead down on her own.

“I’d like to see where this might go Aelin.” he said.

She looked up to him and saw what he was offering, “Maybe we should go back to your place tonight?”

Rowan’s hands moved down her arms and he held her hand in his own, “lets do that.”  and then he kissed her again, a gentle kiss on her nose, affectionate and playful, “I’d like to get to know you better Aelin.”

Aelin nodded, a little lost for words that this was actually happening. “I think we should say goodbye though.” Rowan agreed and they went upstairs before heading off into the darkness to spend the night at Rowan’s place.

[sweetxvertigo]

2018 was an interesting year. 

I started the year the way I do almost every year now, at a Games Done Quick event. Always my favorite time of the year, because I get to hang out with my Twitch friends that I only see twice a year. A few weeks after that I got to go to the Royal Rumble in Philly which was awesome. RR was always my favorite of the Big 4 WWE pay-per-views. 

In February I started to get a bit more serious about my weight and started doing a set of yoga things for about 12 weeks. I didn’t see much of a result from it which is unfortunate but it was motivation to start going to the gym to see actual results. Unfortunately myself and my friends that were going kinda fell off the grind in the middle of the summer but hopefully that’ll pick back up soon. I played a show on my birthday and two of my closer friends from Twitch drove up to catch the show and spend my birthday with me. We got poutine after the show and then hung out for a bit. Easily one of the best birthdays in recent memory. 

In April I started getting my teeth fixed. For anyone who didn’t know before this, I needed a TON of dental work. I got a bunch of broken teeth out and got crowns on my front top teeth. Sometime this year I’m going to be getting implants for the ones that were too broken to fix. My teeth were a huge source of my self esteem issues for years and getting even just the front ones fixed has been incredible for my esteem. I smile with my teeth now, I laugh and don’t worry about covering up my mouth. I can eat foods without worrying about them being too tough and breaking a tooth. 

This next part is probably gonna end up being a lot of word vomit so I apologize in advance. Skip down about 3 paragraphs if you don’t want to read it.

In the later part of April I started talking to a girl. I'd known who she was for a while, we used to follow each other on tumblr years ago. We talked for a few days and she asked if I wanted to get coffee with her when she got home from school. I was so unbelievably nervous. I’d never been on a date before that, and I was caught so offguard by the fact that SHE asked ME. We kept talking for a while before she got home and we eventually met up at a Starbucks nearby near the end of May. If you thought I was nervous before, the time I spent leading up to her walking in the door of that starbucks was the most nervous I think I’ve ever been. Once she got there and we started talking though it was great. We had a lot in common and she was easily one of the funniest people I’ve met. We talked for an hour and it was such a fun and nice time. Before we left she told me we should do that again sometime. I was so relieved and shocked that I didn’t scare her off. We went and saw Deadpool the week after which was really nice. Afterwards she drove me home and we talked a lot on the way back. I was very honest about a lot of things and she wasn’t scared away. About a week later she asked me to get dinner at one of her favorite restaurants and it was a lot of fun again. She drove me home again and before getting out of her car I asked if I could kiss her. She said yes and the way she so excitedly pressed her lips into mine is something I still remember so vividly. We saw eachother for another month or so. She would send me good morning texts every day and apologize if she didn’t, which was already way more than I ever expected to get. She was such a source of positive energy and I needed that.

As time went on I kinda let my anxiety get the best of me and I think that really affected how things were going. I knew she was bad at texting and stuff and here I was anxiously texting her too much. Overthinking every little thing like I do, because if I actually manage to find something good, I have to ruin it somehow. The last time we hung out she had to leave early because she got sick from the food we ate. After that things kind of fizzled out. She told me that she was going back to school soon and that things were going too hectic before she went back so she wasn’t sure when she’d have time to see me again. I ended up seeing her once more before she left when we ran into eachother at Red Robin. It was nice to see her, she hugged me before leaving. I feel bad because I sent her multiple big texts after that which I know didn’t help anything but me being the clingy sumbitch I am I thought that some sort of closure would help. And it kind of did. 

I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t on my mind from time to time still. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about texting her, knowing she was home for winter break. I think the reason I’m having such a hard time getting over her is because she’s the only one who has ever really given me that much of a chance. Every other thing I’ve been in ended so soon after and I felt like I was worth it for the first time in my life. We talked about that a few times after everything kinda went downhill and she would tell me that I am worth it, but it was basically just bad timing. I want to try and stop thinking about her as much. If our paths cross again and the timing is right, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying again, but I’m not going to hold my breath and I can’t let “what ifs” keep me from trying to meet new people. It was honestly such a good learning experience though and I’m so thankful that I met her. 

The rest of the summer had a lot of fun things in it as well. I got to go to Minneapolis again for Summer Games Done Quick in late June, then again in August for one of my closest friend’s wedding. I got to see some of my favorite bands, Coheed and The Menzingers. I played shows, I wrote music, I got closer with friends. The fall/winter weren’t kind to me mentally. I’ve had a few mild anxiety attacks. I did see Coheed and The Menzingers a second time each in October/November. My band started recording a new EP a few weeks ago which is sounding amazing so far. I sold 60-something shirts of a design I created. It’s been a long time since I was motivated to make something like that and it really paid off. 

2018 had a lot of good parts, and a lot of bad parts, but that’s no surprise. I want 2019 to be a year of change and growth. I want to find myself being more confident, going on more dates, meeting more people, writing more music, getting my shit more together. I want to reach out and get help for my mental illnesses. I want to become a better me. I want to feel like I’m worth it. 

I apologize if you actually read all of this. I had a lot of feelings to get out. 

[angelixii]

1-140 (anything you haven't answered already) - Felix

Oh, hello! Thanks for the ask!! 💕

3 fears - Spiders (I get frightened when I think about them) heights (slightly) and the public (anything like murder, kidnapped, ya know stupid people)

 3 Things I love - Music, Idols, and animals

 2 Turns on - ig Hats (like snapbacks) and glasses

 2 Turns off - oof I don’t really know.. ig self absorbed or a fudge boy

 My best friend - C: @straykids-sk (wuv you)

 How tall am I - 5′2

 What do I miss right now - My cat that passed away :c (her name was P.J)

 Favourite color - Blue, red, and sometimes green

 Do I have a crush - no not really

 Favourite place - my home

 What am I listening to right now - theres a website called asoftmurmur.com and it has noises like rain or waves and stuff like that

 Shoe size - pretty sure 10 in US womens

 Eye color - brown

 Hair color - light-ish brown

 Meaning behind my URL - I chose Felix cause hes my bias wrecker and hes angelic C:

 Favourite song - Theres like a million but 5SOS’s She Looks So Perfect wil always be a favorite (idk why)

 Favourite band - Ill just chose Stray Kids cause I don’t wanna write them all out

 How I feel right now - kinda tired but ig ok

 Someone I love - Ill say my best fren Georgia (@straykids-sk) cause i wuv her

 My current relationship status - single and i kinda wanna stay that way for a while

  My relationship with my parents - We all live in the same house and its just us (I have one other sister but she moved out. But shes here a lot tho) and we all get along well

 Favorite season - probably Spring c:

 Tattoos and piercing I have - none and I don’t really want any

 Tattoos and piercing I want - ^^^

The reasons I joined Tumblr - Georgia wanted me to and I thought it would be fun (I was right c:)

 Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? - no :/

 Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? - oh heel no she my best fren I would never

 How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? - when I have school like 20 minutes at max

 Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? - I did today

 Where am I right now? - at my house on my laptop c:

 Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? - reasonable level cause I’ve always had ear problems and they are sensitive (even tho I always have my earbuds in)

 Do I live with my Mom and Dad? - yup

 Am I excited for anything? - not that I can think of no

 Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? - nope :/

 How often do I wear a fake smile? - not THAT often

 If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? - oooof I don’t think I could answer that question

 What do I think about most? - probably k-pop

 Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? - Definitely behind

 What was the last lie I told? - It was kinda a joke but “i’ll do it because im the good child”

 Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? - Eh depends on who it is but facetiming/video chatting

 Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? - ghosts kinda and aliens, I mean sure we’ve barely discovered space, who knows whats out there

 Do I believe in magic? - sometimes yeah

 Do I believe in luck? - I mean yeah

 What’s the weather like right now?- theres nothing really going on

 What was the last book I’ve read? - uhhhhhh fully on my own (not in class)? The Maze Runner Scorch Trials

 Do I have any nicknames? - Kassadoodle, Kassidilla, Kassy

 Do I spend money or save it? - I’m trying to save as much as I can rn in my little money jar c:

 Can I touch my nose with a tounge? - nah

 Favourite animal? - Lions and Fennec Foxes

 What was I doing last night at 12 AM? - uhhh im pretty sure saying goodbye to Georgia on video chat

 What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? - oo um I cant really think of one rn :/

 What is my favorite word? - yeet

 My top 5 blogs on tumblr (not in any order)

@honeylixs

@zoxsu

@tinyfigureskater

@stray-kids-dork

@straykidsmate

 If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? - I probably wouldn’t say anything cause im shy and afraid people would judge me on what I say c:

 Do I have any relatives in jail? -not that I know of

What is my current desktop picture? - a pic of Bts

Had sex? Bought condoms? Gotten pregnant? Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Had job? Smoked weed? Smoked cigarettes? Drank alcohol?

no to ALL those questions C:

Am I a vegetarian/vegan? - nope don’t think I could ever

Been overweight? - …

Been underweight? - no.

Gotten my heart broken? - nah

Been to prom? - nope

Been in airplane? - nope and I never want to really

Learned another language? - I take required (cause im one of the more intelligent kids in school. I know shocker right?) Spanish classes in school but im on summer break so I dont remember any c:

Wore make up?- nope

Dyed my hair? - nope

Had a surgery? - plenty of ear surgery and had my tonsils removed

Met someone famous? - nope

Stalked someone on a social network? - nope

Been fishing? - no but my dad has always wanted to take me and it sounds kinda fun

Been rejected by a crush? - nope never really had one and if I did I would never have the guts

What do I want for birthday? - ooo idk but i have to wait till next year anyway cause its already passed

Do I like my handwriting? - sometimes when my hand cooperates

Where do I want to live when older? - with my girl Georgia

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? - nope ima good child (yeah ok suuureee)

What I’m really bad at - running :/

What my greatest achievments are - managing to keep straight A’s and I dont even study cause im online so

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me - “u bird cage” - Georgia c;

What I’d do if I won in a lottery - ooooooooof idk

What do I like about myself - uhhhhh heh ig my hair or eyes/eyelashes

My closest Tumblr friend - Georgia (yes I do know her irl but shes honestly the closet tumblr friend I have so)

Any question you’d like? - hmm idk

Are you outgoing or shy? - definitely shy, unless with people im close to then quite crazy

What kind of people are you attracted to? - funny, cute and nice people

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? - hA no

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? - kinda

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? - oof idk

What does the most recent text that you sent say? “ohhhh no XDD” (sent to Georgia)

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? - (I already answered this question and don’t wanna answer again)

Do you like it when people play with your hair? - yes I love when freinds at school did (once we were watching a movie in Spanish and my friend next to me was playing with my hair and I almost fell asleep heh)

Do you think there is life on other planets? - totally

Do you like bubble baths? - I haven’t had one in forever

Do you like your neighbors? - only one cause I think im related to them somehow or they are to like my uncle

Where would you like to travel? - out of this hell hole country c:

Favorite part of your daily routine? - checking my tumblr and stanning talent

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? - stomach

What do you do when you wake up? - check my notifications on my phone

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? - I wish it was more tan than it is (im quite pale)

Do you ever want to get married? - yeah

If your hair long enough for a pony tail? - yes but I hate pony tails so I never do it (I used to all the time as a kid)

Would you rather live without TV or music? - I rarely watch t.v anymore and listen to music almost all day so

Have you ever liked someone and never told them? - I mean yeah

What are your favorite stores to shop in? - I dont really have one for clothes but I do like Walmart

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? - I mean sometimes

Do you smile at strangers? - If the smile at me first yeah

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? - not that I can remember no

Ever wished you were someone else? - no (as much as I hate myself no)

Favorite makeup brand? - son;t wear any so I dont got one

Last thing you ate? - a Reese cup

Ever won a competition? For what? - not a big one I can remeber no

Ever been in love? - c:

Facebook or Twitter? - dont have a fb and i barely use twitter anymore but twitter

Twitter or Tumblr? - DEFINITELy tumblr

Are you watching tv right now? - i mean its always on for bg noise and light so ig so

What color are your towels? - all kinds of colors

Favorite ice cream flavor? - either Strawberry with out the strawberries or cookie dough

First person you talked to today? - my mom

Last person you talked to today? - Georgia

Name a person you hate? - C: theres too many

Name a person you love? - once again, theres too many

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? - C: theres too many

Do you tan a lot? - I barely go outside so thats a no

Have any pets? - too many

Do you type fast? - I mean kinda yeah

Do you regret anything from your past? - everything XD

Ever broken someone’s heart? - I highly doubt it

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? - C:

Is cheating ever okay? - hell no

Do you believe in true love? - I mean sure

What your zodiac sign? - Pisces

Do you believe in ghosts? - why is this question on here twice?

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? (via catscuddlingandyou) - “…but not at all overwhelming, the balance of the different fragrances was subtle and flawless.” Twilight - Breaking Dawn (Do NOt ask me why thats the closest book its not mine and ive never read it and i NEVER plan on it)

oof that took like two hours heh.. its now currently 2:18am. and im very tired

but thanks for the ask anyway love! Im sorry for the wait! I was busy today. But im probably going to go to bed now

[greenappleeyes]

According to You (part 12)

Words: 1.8k

Summary: You break some major news to Misha.

Warnings: None really; mild language, stressed reader

A/N: This chapter feels a little choppy to me, but I promise it wasn’t as rushed as it seems.

Feedback motivates my writing muse, so an extra thank you to everyone that leaves some. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, just shoot me an ask or DM because Tumblr doesn't always notify me of comments and reblogs.

Misha is single in this series and, as always, no hate or disrespect towards Vicki or their family.

——————

You settled into your new routine easily after a few weeks of living in your new place. Working at the café, spending time with Misha, and even the occasional lunch date with co-workers; it all felt so normal. It was hard to imagine how you managed to stay sane being trapped like a caged bird by Paul for so many years.

“Hey babe.” Misha said sleepily, pressing his body against your back and kissing your temple. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

You hadn’t even realized you were staring blankly out the window. Spinning around, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “You, me, work; just… life.”

Ducking his head down, he pressed his lips to yours; the kiss quickly turning heated. The taste and feel of his tongue rolling against yours still managed to leave you breathless. One of his hands threaded through your hair while the other wrapped firmly around your waist; pulling your pliant body against his.

As much as you wanted to stay in Mishas arms all day, you forced yourself to pull away from him. “Mmff… I have to get ready for work.”

“I don’t want you to.” Misha pouted while playfully trying to keep you from wiggling free. “Call in sick. We can stay home and play doctor.”

You laughed heartily; briefly distracted from attempting to escape. Misha took the opportunity to pull you close again; kissing along your jaw and neck. Before he was able to make your knees go completely weak, you managed to remember that you didn’t want to be late for work; again.

“I have to get ready.” He let you pull away this time as you patted his cheek. “We will continue this tonight.”

——————

“Mish?!” You yelled as you entered you apartment only a couple hours after leaving for work. “Are you still here?”

He scooted around the corner to ask what you were doing home so early, but understood immediately upon seeing your pale, clammy skin and the ‘I hate everything’ expression on your face. “Hey, come here and sit down.”

You dragged your feet to the couch and plopped down with a groan. “You should probably go. I don’t want to give you whatever I have.”

“Have you eaten?” He asked, ignoring your suggestion. “I have my cure-all soup at home in the freezer.”

“Ew, no.” You were starving, but the idea of food made you want to wretch. “I don’t know if I could even keep it down.”

Pulling your shoes off and lifting your legs in to the couch, he only smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “You should try. I’ll be right back.”

Upon returning, he found you sitting in the kitchen munching away on a baguette you had brought home from work. “I think I just needed to eat something.”

“Told you.” He said with a smirk as he opened the ziplock bag and began heating the frozen soup on the stove. “You should save some of that for your lunch here.”

Standing up, you kissed him on the cheek and smiled brightly. “You’re too good for me.”

——————

Over the next week, you began noticing an odd pattern. If you went longer than a few hours without eating, you’d become annoyingly nauseous; but as soon as you ate something, you’d feel normal again.

“Your probably knocked up.” Your co-worker Emily said with a laugh.

“That’s not even funny!” It really wasn’t, but you weren’t going to get into details with her about it. “Plus, that’s not even possible; I’ve been on birth control for years. Maybe I’m just getting old. I’m not 20 anymore.”

Emily shrugged and changed the subject, but now the seed of doubt has been planted. What if you were pregnant? How would Misha feel about it? You had only officially been together for a short time and he was already in his early forties; surely he didn’t want a baby disrupting his life even more than you already had.

You decided to push those worries aside for the moment. You had been on birth control even since Paul insisted several years ago after… what happened and there hadn’t been even a scare since then.

——————

A few more weeks passed and you let your worries dissipate. Your appetite had increased, but you chalked it up to stress. Every potential symptom had a logical explanation, therefore there was no reason to worry.

Work had been difficult one particular day; short staffed and busy. You still managed to eat lunch, but you had been dreaming of the leftover pizza sitting in your fridge. The walk home was short and you practically drooled the whole way.

Walking inside, you headed straight for the kitchen and froze in your tracks at the sight of Misha shoving the last bite into his mouth. “Hey, how was work?” He asked while chewing on the very thing you had desired all day.

“You…” your voice cracked unexpectedly. Tears were spilling down your face before you even had a chance to finish your statement.

Misha rushed over to you, assuming the worst; that you had seen Paul. “Woah, Y/N, calm down. What happened?”

What happened? He ate your pizza; that’s what happened. “How could you?!” You shouted through tears and weakly tried to push him away. “I’d been wanting that all day and you just…”

“I’m sorry.” He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong, but clearly you were upset with him. The only thing he could do was wait until you were calm.

After a moment, you finally composed yourself. “Misha, we need to talk.”

His heart pounded in his chest at the seriousness of your tone. Were you not happy? Did you not want to be with him anymore? Did you miss Paul? “Ok. Let’s talk.”

“I need to go to the store.” You said abruptly. “I need to know for sure.” At the moment, you weren’t concerned about how crazy you looked; you needed your answer before dragging anyone else into your paranoid madness.  

Misha had so many emotions swirling in him at the moment. He went from being happy you were home from work, to worried about why you were crying, to scared he had fucked up, and now just confused with your behavior. “Sweetie, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” You said, wiping the tears from your eyes. “But I have to find out. Just hang tight here and I’ll find out. I’ll be back in a bit, don’t go anywhere.”

——————

You paced in the bathroom in the Walgreens just up the street from your apartment. Three minutes is an awfully long time when you’re waiting for life changing news. Your phones alarm beeped; but you were almost too scared to look.

Finally gaining the courage to answer the question that had been plaguing the back of your mind for weeks; you peered down at the little, white, plastic stick.

The tiny digital screen showed one word that changed everything for you. Pregnant.

And odd calm came over you. The question had been answered. You had a new set of things to worry about, but you had an answer. Taking a deep breath, you tried to process what to do next. The obvious first thing that came to mind was to stop taking your clearly non-functional birth control and make a doctors appointment.

Misha. You had to tell Misha. This could be a dealbreaker for him and as much as it scared you to tell him, you couldn’t hide this; that simply wouldn’t be fair.  

The walk back to your apartment seemed to take twice as long as it took to get to the store. In the short time, you played every scenario in your mind; ranging from him flat out leaving you to being ecstatic. Hopefully his reaction was the latter.

He was waiting for you outside; worry written all over his face. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

You hugged him tightly, praying that tonight didn’t end poorly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

——————

“I love you, Misha.” Your hands were clamped tight on his to keep them from shaking. “You’ve done so much for me and I can never thank you enough.”

Misha tried to maintain eye contact with you, but looked down and your hands when nerves took over. “Why does this sound like the ‘I love you but I’m not in love with you’ speech?”

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock for a moment until you smiled reassuringly. “Misha, no. I am in love with you; completely. I’m sorry I made you worry, but that’s not what’s going on here.” Your smile faded as your own insecurities took hold. “Not unless you decide to walk away tonight. I won’t blame…”

It was Mishas turn to reassure you. “I’m not ever walking away from you. What could be so bad that you’d think that?”

It’s now or never. “I don’t know a better way to tell you this without being blunt. Misha, I’m pregnant. So if you don’t want to deal with that, I get it. It’s ok.”

“Pregnant.” Misha said calmly, trying to process the information.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes in case they were filled with disgust like you were bracing yourself for. The shuffling sound of him standing up from his chair pulled your attention away from your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You said, barely above a whisper. “This just complicates things more.”

He tried to respond, but couldn’t seem to find his voice through the emotion welling inside of him. Instead, he positioned himself on his knees, between your legs, and gently laid his head against your belly. His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you tightly; waiting until he could speak again.

After a moment, he was able to compose himself enough to look up at you again. The tears had caused his eyes to redden and get puffy, which only made his brilliant blue irises shine brighter. “Y/N, I love you and I hope you know there’s absolutely no fucking way you’re ever getting rid of me now.”

Relief washed over you at his overwhelmingly happy reaction. Internally chiding yourself, you remembered that he wasn’t Paul. He was the complete opposite and he loved you. Cupping his face in your hands, you encouraged him to sit up and kiss you.

Hidden inside your mind, behind the elation of starting a family with Misha, was one nagging question. What if the baby was Paul’s?”

—————— Tag list: @splendidcas @Seasalticecream0131 @grunge-crybabies @love-charmer-sketch @hamartiamacguffin @heavenlyrainyparis @crowleysminion @mysteriouslyme81 @bitchasaurus @smoothdogsgirl @aly-birleanu @djs-lacrimose @ourloveisforthelovely @docharleythegeekqueen @pastapizzacheesedragon @castiel-savvy18 @Lllydg @alangel1895 @gill-ons @sassy-losechester @mysweetcookie99 @sparklingcas @i-littlemissillusions @moon-and-stars-cas @rosep16 @cornflax01 @lazairahel @alyssa6marie @marisayouass @afanofmanystuffs @ronnie248-blog @bluetina-blog @kmcmpmd @amyapathetic @emycakes4457 @waywardmoeyy @cursedwithboredom @jchnwatson39 @animexchocolate @missdestiel67 @bookcaseninja @letsmakeitanotheryear @thebookisbtr @trinty33 @acciojarofdirt @maui137 @silenceofmidnite @kcam1621 @alexastacio @thran-duils @soythedemonqueen @xxmizzlexx @pie-not-cake-you-assbutt @fashon72 @al-ja-gr @crowleysgrl @stori-teller @kai899 @cookiecakeslive @kscenarios4u @misscherryberry @ale-moe @protectivedestiel @xagateophobiax @shamelesslydean @ironictrickster @bea789 @notfergusmom @lauuerodz @willowtighe @sparklesuperwholock88 @daddymalachai @earthtokace @xxgoldiethegoldenxx @dream-to-live @castielsguardianangel @secretlysage @1978supernatural @danycontreras2 @cas-honeybee @facebokurlbok @tiffanycaruso @lullabylike @sekovanicc111 @aditimukul @caitlinocalypse @iwontdance-dontaskme @drakkie-blog @herangelicvirtue @sonnierae26 @lefthologramdeer @kristendansmith

[shortqueershakespeare]

teeeheee all asks :)

Okay I’m splitting this into several posts, so here come the first two (also I just wrote out half of these and tumblr ate them so bear with me while i try not to scream in frustration)

*Lover* Asks!

I Forgot That You Existed: What was something that you thought would kill you, but it didn’t? 

My first breakup.

Cruel Summer: Describe your favorite summer fling! (or if you haven’t had one, your ideal one)

It’s summer of 2019 and I am in love, but not with the boys I’m dating. He holds my heart in his hands all summer and breaks it bit by bit. His head is on mine in the neon lights of a nightclub, our fingers intertwined. He lifts his head and meets my eyes before catching my lips in his own, once, twice, three times. We don’t speak of it again that night. He makes me feel wanted and I feel asleep with his body wrapped around mine. 

He tells me he isn’t interested in me and I struggle to accept it. But he’s so important to me that I can’t let his friendship go. He kisses me again and claims he thought I was someone else. He tells me we’ll talk about it in the morning. We never speak of it again.

Lover: What song do you want to dance to at your wedding? (or if you already had one, what was your first dance to?)

You Take Me As I Am or November Song by Stornoway.

The Man: Do you deal with any stereotypes or double standards in your career?  

Yeah, I’m definitely treated differently if people perceive me as female at first.

The Archer: What is one of your biggest insecurities?

My chest or thinking I’m too much for people.

I Think He Knows: What is a quality you find to be attractive in others?

Unabashed, shameless enthusiasm.

Miss Americana: What would have been your high school superlative? 

I was voted most likely to be ID’d until I’m thirty which is particularly funny now as a trans man.

Paper Rings: What are the books beside your bed (your favorite ones!)?

We were liars by E. Lockhart, in the event this doesn’t fall apart by Shannon Barry and Ich Bin Linus by Linus Giese.

Cornelia Street: Do you have a “Cornelia Street,” a place made special because of someone in your life? If so, describe it! 

I have a few so bear with me

A small theatre on an unassuming street in a sleepy city. Life is breathed into these halls by those who call it home. It has seen me turn from child to teenager to adult and every stage in between. I have kissed and cried and broken and burned in these halls, on this stage. I remember paint splattered jeans and tangled up arms and feet. I remember late nights with screams and cries of desperation and early mornings, constructing a world together. I have fallen in love here, had my first kiss here, confronted who I truly am here. I have grown into myself in a way that only this building has been able to witness. 

A city by the sea not far from where I grew up, it has witnessed every turning point of my transition and has been present in every relationship I have ever had. It was the site of my first use of my name, the location of my first pride, the home of my trans community.

These buildings have seen thousands of students kiss and fuck and cry and love and lose over the years. I am no exception. I fell in love with others and myself here. My identity here was so intertwined in him, and relearning who I am in these walls is a long arduous journey, but one that I am glad to have been on.

Death By A Thousand Cuts: What movie has really stuck with you, emotionally?

Pride.

London Boy: If you could travel anywhere with a lover, where would you go?

New York probably, or maybe Luxembourg.

Soon You’ll Get Better: How do you cope with difficult news?

I keep a brave face if I need to but I’ll cry if its safe and okay to.

False God: Have you ever been in a long distance relationship, or would you ever consider it? 

Yep, my first relationship was long distance while he was at uni and my second was long distance in the holidays.

You Need To Calm Down: How do you deal with bullies or trolls?

Generally don’t respond, if I need to get it out I’ll write out my feelings but not send them.

Afterglow: How do you react to conflicts?

I tend to try and mediate and if the other person is bad at conflict I usually write myself notes.

ME!: What is something you love about yourself?

My compassion and capacity for forgiveness.

It’s Nice To Have A Friend: Describe your oldest friend! 

A tall, blonde girl sits in the corner of a room. She is largely quiet until she finds someone she likes but then you hear her sharp wit and caring side come out. She is remarkably insightful and phenomenally artistically talented. She is confident like noone else and supportive in a way you rarely see. She’ll defend her loved ones til she dies and make you regret ever crossing her.

Daylight: You are what you love; what are some of your passions? 

Languages, writing, theatre, reading.

reputation asks

...Ready for It?: How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

This kind of depends, I can get ready in 15 minutes if I’m not eating but I do prefer to give myself about an hour.

End Game: What is the best date you have ever been on, or what would your dream date be?

I’d like to meet up for lunch, take the train somewhere and explore, go to a play in the evening and spend the night stargazing and talking.

I Did Something Bad: What are your bad habits?

I bite my nails and am pretty messy.

Don’t Blame Me: What are some things you are obsessed with?

Fandomwise it’s Merlin, Harry Potter (but only the fanon aspects, canon and jkr can fuck off) and Eastenders.

Delicate: What are you insecure about?

Being too much for people.

Look What You Made Me Do: What was the last lie you told?

It was probably about how productive I’ve been.

So It Goes...: Who or what inspires you?

Honestly often it’s my siblings, and I’m also determined to make this world better for trans and queer people following me.

Gorgeous: Do you have a ‘type’? If so, describe what it is.

It’s been described as generic white boy by my friends, but I’d say tall and skinny with short dark curly hair and a big smile.

Getaway Car: Describe your dream road trip.

Driving around Europe, visiting my family and friends.

King of My Heart: If you won the lottery, what is the first luxury you would buy for yourself?

Top surgery?? Does that count?? If it has to be material probably a nice prosthetic or maybe a good camera.

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: What are some of your favorite songs?

Okay so at the moment we’re on my 2021 playlist which includes Lonely by Joel Corry, drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo, Sword from the Stone and Suzanne by Passenger.

Dress: Where do you like to shop and how would you describe your style

I usually shop at H&M and ASOS and I own a lot of tie dye and rainbow, I tend to swap between vibrant masc (green blue yellow black), muted masc (grey blue black) and rainbow.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: What literary character(s) do you most identify with?

Gat and Cady from We Were Liars, Avery from Two Boys Kissing.

Call It What You Want: What is a happy memory of yours that happened in November (of any year)?

November 2016, My first binder arrives and I cry and cry when I see how flat it makes me. My mum hugs me and makes me promise I’ll be safe with it and to tell her if I need another. She asks me if I’ve made any progress on picking a name and buys me books with trans protagonists. She loves me without question.

New Year’s Day: What was the last New Years resolution you made? Did you keep it?

I actually don’t know but whatever it was, I’m certain I broke it.

Magazines: What are some of your favorite books?

Okay apart from those mentioned as my bedside ones: Two Boys Kissing, Turtles All the Way Down, I’ll Give You The Sun, An Absolutely Remarkable thing.

[another-mentalhealthblog]

It all started out with a waffle.

Yesterday morning, I woke up relatively early. It was a Saturday, and I woke up before 7am. I believe this was largely because I woke up to the smell of waffles.

My dad made waffles on his waffle iron, something he now does on occasion, but something that he always used to do when I was a kid.

And that’s the thing.

As a kid, after I grew out of eating cereal, I would always eat two waffles with butter, syrup and a glass of apple juice as my breakfast in the morning before going off to school.

As a child, I didn’t think anything of this. I didn’t think about the calories, the carbs, the sugars, the fats... how “healthy” or “unhealthy” it was for me to be eating that at the beginning of every day.

It was just my breakfast, and it tasted delicious. And that’s all that mattered to me.

But somewhere along the way, the relationship that I had with food changed.

It started when I was a sophomore in high school.

I got out of my first, long relationship. Two years. And needed something else to fixate on, I guess. So I turned to my body.

I began to look at myself in the mirror and realize I hadn’t been taking care of myself, and I didn’t like the way I looked. In reality, there was nothing wrong with the way I looked.

But I told myself I had too much fat on my stomach area. And I didn’t like the way my thighs touched.

So I started working out more, eating “cleaner” and “healthier,” and overall... less.

This is when I started to look at food as “good” and “bad,” ... “healthy” and “unhealthy.”

Food went from just being food... to having all of these different labels and categories.

I even had a calendar hung up on my wall where I would circle the date in green if I had a “good” day where I worked out and ate “clean” and “healthy” all day... in yellow if I felt like I slipped up and could’ve done better... or in red if I didn’t work out and didn’t eat within my clean and healthy standards.

All of these things were aimed around one, singular goal, of changing the way my body looked on the outside, so I would feel more confident about myself.

Little did I remember, that there is so much more to being confident than how you look on the outside.

A whopping seven years ago, I also created my first health and fitness blog on Tumblr, called Believe and Achieve. Where I would reblog transformation photos, photos of girls with flat, toned, tanned stomachs, almonds, fruits, vegetables... everything related to weight loss and shrinking yourself smaller.

On February 27, 2013, I wrote a text post, entitled, “Goals.”

My goals were to exercise every day and keep eating healthy meals and snacks. To not let an unmotivated attitude take over me again and make me lose progress. Keep eating healthy and keep exercising. To make money from babysitting to consider paying for a plan to go to the gym more. To go to the gym minimum of twice a week. To not skip more than a day a week and don’t indulge when it’s “really not necessary.”

I said, “It takes three months. By the end of May and the beginning of summer I will be so happy I started now and not then. I have to get there but I have to start now."

I can go on and on and on about the things I used to write on this Tumblr. I used to be so, terribly hard on myself when it came to eating and exercising. Let us just visit two more, shall we?

Another post I wrote was... “A healthy lifestyle sucks somedays, and today is one of them. I hate how i have this huge weight of guilt on my shoulders after eating three moderately poor meals today and not having time to workout this week. I feel like such a failure. i hate feeling so damn bad for eating things that i wouldn’t have considered “unhealthy” this time last year. it’s good that my eyes are opened and I can tell the difference between healthy and unhealthy, but this guilt thing for eating things that I consider unhealthy now and not working out even though I really didn’t have any time is the worst.”

And another post I wrote was... “someone please help. I NEED to know how to not binge :( i literally can’t have sleepovers or go to parties or vacation without over eating crap food and i know that’s not awful to do every once in a while but i feel like this month i’ve been doing it way more than every once in a while, so it’s not “okay” anymore. and all it does is make me feel bad about myself: while im doing it, all night after i do it, and especially the next day, but i keep doing it. and if i binge really bad then i honestly loose my appetite and don’t want to eat the whole next day even though i know my body needs nutrients. i know im wrong, but i feel like all of this binging has wiped away all of my hard work that i started in the spring because honestly my stomach has definitely gotten bigger and i’ve lost sight of the muscle i was building. if anyone took the time to read this please send me an ask with some advice, i need it.”

And one last post: I constantly caught between wanting to eat 100% clean and healthy so that I see more results, and wanting to enjoy life and being a teenager. I know that sounds silly because if I just dedicate myself to eating clean (or at least cleaner than i do now) for a few weeks, I’ll grow into it and it’ll become a habit and i can still “enjoy life” and “be a teenager.” I also know I can make unhealthy choices in moderation here and there too. but I feel like my unhealthy choices (ex, this past week: pizza saturday night, a barbeque dinner and birthday cake sunday night, pizza tuesday night, suki hana yesterday afternoon..) are putting me in a stand still where I exercise enough, but only eat like 50-60% clean.. so its not that im not seeing any results, just enough to satisfy me. because I’m not fully dedicated, because I want to be able to eat what I want and again, enjoy being a teenager. it’s tough.

So I think we understand how poor my relationship with food was seven years ago.

And what has happened since then?

It’s been a roller coaster of ups and downs that would honestly take hours for me to get into.

But I want to fast forward into the present, and talk about my day and night last night, just to show you that change is possible.

So yesterday, I woke up to the smell of waffles. And I will honestly admit that I am still healing my relationship with food, after seven years, because of the internal dialogue that goes on in my head when I smell a food like waffles in the morning.

While this internal dialogue used to be so loud and control the decisions I was making when it came to food, it now a more of a whisper that I can tell to shut the hell up.

It goes a little something like this.

I smell the waffles. I think, “Should I go for it? Or should I eat something healthier - like oatmeal? Or eggs and toast?”

In the past, I would have eaten something “cleaner” or “healthier” to stay “on track” with my goals. Or I would have eaten the waffles and mentally ripped myself to shreds for eating something “unhealthy” and “getting off track.”

But yesterday, I realized how much I have made and am making true growth and progress when it comes to my relationship with food.

Because I reached for not one, but two waffles, without any guilt. I put butter and syrup on them. Even paired them with a cup of coffee with two spoonfuls of dairy free vanilla creamer.

I ate the waffles. Enjoyed every bite. And realized how much growth and progress I have made over the years.

Another thing about yesterday and these waffles was that I knew my family was ordering dinner from The Cheesecake Factory that night.

Normally around this time of year, my family and I spend a day in Philadelphia doing Christmas things and going out to lunch or dinner. Since we couldn’t do that this year because of COVID, we decided to bring the tradition into the safety of our home.

So instead of going out to lunch or dinner, we ordered dinner in from the Cheesecake Factory.

Another proud moment of growth for me.

Because in the past, I would’ve ordered something low calorie, no carb, clean, healthy, etc. Especially when there is a low calorie “skinnylicious” section on the menu.

But the current version of myself wanted a burger. So I ordered a classic burger, with the bun, and french fries. And thought nothing of it, except how much I have grown in my relationship with food, and how excited I was to eat it.

In the past... knowing I had appetizers, a big, fat, burger, and a piece of Linda’s chocolate fudge cake coming for me that night, I would have deprived myself of food during the day, or made sure I ate 110% clean, healthy, low carb and low calorie leading up to the big Christmas she-bang of food at night.

But yesterday... I started the day with waffles. Exercised for my mental health, in a way that felt good to me in the moment. A mix of a 20 minute leg workout, 10 minutes of cycling, 15 minutes of stretching and 5 minutes of meditation.

Had a protein shake after exercising. And did not alter my eating during the day because of what I was going to be eating that night.

Honestly, I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know how I went from being a person who would hate herself if she didn’t eat clean and healthy and workout for 7 days straight. To a person who exercises in such a healthy way, for her mental health, and doesn’t diet or feel guilt around food at all anymore.

Truthfully... I know two of the biggest things that got me here were changing the kinds of people I follow on social media. And allowing myself to break up with the scale, and my old beliefs and habits.

Because we’re humans. We’re meant to grow, change and evolve. You are supposed to and don’t have to always stay the same.

And I am proud to say that I am living, breathing proof that you can go from food guilt and restriction, to complete food freedom.

Eat the waffles. Eat the burger. Eat the fudge cake. Enjoy your freaking LIFE. And then, the next morning, you wake up and move on with your life.

This morning, I went back to my regular routine of coffee and oatmeal. Soon, I’ll have another meal or a snack, maybe exercise for 20-30 minutes, and, again... just continue on with my life.

Your life doesn’t have to revolve around weight loss, achieving a flat stomach, having abs, and always eating “clean” and “healthy” all of the time.

You are allowed to live your freaking life, eat your favorite foods, and do whatever brings you peace, happiness and joy. Especially during the holiday season.

[lostinfic]

5 | Writing

(this is the full chapter, including a new part that wasn’t previously posted)

Mercier x Betty  British Raj AU

Calcutta, 1902. The word ‘dance’ comes to mind, their own choreography of gazes exchanged across the room, brushes of hands and half-spoken confessions. They orbit around each other, destined never to collide it seems; Mercier is upper class, Betty is a governess. And he’s spying on the family whose children she swore to protect. But in this foreign land of spices and silk, of golden gods and lush forests, where cultural norms clash and wane, even destinies must yield to desire.

Rating: Mature Word count: 5.6k You don’t need to have seen either show.

Tumblr   |   Ao3   |    This chapter on Ao3

A screen of woven kus-kus roots hung in Betty’s doorway to block the sun. A servant was spraying it with aromatic water from a goatskin bag, the dampness further helped keep the room cool. Betty waited, poised beside it, a white scarf covered her head. She wrung her hands together, nervous and alert, every muscle in her body taut and ready to sprint as soon as the servant left.

The footsteps receded and disappeared around the corner of the house. Betty slipped out, tiptoed the length of the second floor balcony. It was the perfect time to sneak out: the whole Wigram family was napping or dawdling the afternoon away, and heavy curtains blocked every window to keep out the heat.

In the garden, Betty crept past bushes and flowers, staying in the shadows until she reached a moldy wooden door. She plucked some flowers from a vine of Climbing Bauhinia then slipped out into the back street.

Face hidden by the white scarf, she waited until a group of children had ran past her to walk to the statue of Ganesha. Time had smoothed out its features carved in stone, moss covered its tusks and crown, furled brown leaves decomposed at its feet.

The remover of obstacles.

Although Betty didn’t adhere to Hinduism, she’d rather not risk angering a god and therefore offered Ganesha some sweet-smelling blossoms. After a quick prayer, she slipped a hand in the damp space behind the stone idol, cringing, always afraid to feel some creepy-crawly. Much to her happiness, it’s paper she felt. Betty clutched the letter to her heart and sneaked back to her room.

Betty and Jean-François exchanged a letter every day, sometimes twice a day. She wrote to him before sunrise and, unless he was swamped at work, she would receive a reply by the time she could sneak out in the afternoon. If the kids stayed in their room long enough, she could write back right away and find a new letter behind Ganesha before going to bed.

Hopefully, no one had noticed his messenger or Betty coming and going behind the house. In case a stranger intercepted their messages, they avoided using the names of people or of specific places in Calcutta.

Betty savoured every letter, sitting on the window seat, she broke the wax seal and opened the folded pages like a treasure chest.

“Dearest,

Your letter brightened my morning after another misadventure with my sister’s monkey. Can you believe he stole all my pens? I could not, for the life of me, find one to work. I feared it would prevent me from writing to you, but I eventually found them stacked at the bottom of a closet. She still refuses to get rid of the blasted thing.”

Betty laughed quietly, the misadventures of Jean-François and Voltaire the monkey were an ongoing saga. The animal was a perfect angel whenever Gabrielle was near but turned into a little devil as soon as she was out of sight. And Jean-François was his favourite victim.

At first, Betty hadn’t known what to write about. She felt she had nothing important enough or wise enough to share. As it turned out, these tidbits of their daily lives were as worthy of a correspondence as any philosophical debate or political argument. She loved learning more about his work, his hobbies, even about the food he ate (information she may or may not use in fantasies of the domestic kind).

Jean-François’ questions had eased her anxieties about writing. He wanted to know about her life before India, her work with the children, even the books she loved. And she asked her own questions in return about his childhood and travels.

And perhaps these things would be better shared face to face, but knowing her shyness, she would not reveal half as much in person as she did in print. She thought twice about everything she wrote, of course, but she really did want to be known by him. He always asked follow up questions, and their letters were getting longer and longer.

“I cannot wait until you finally have a day free that we can spend together. In the meantime, someone of our acquaintance is organising a celebration for the arrival of her son and his family this Sunday. I believe your employer will be invited with his wife and children seeing as how she has grandchildren arriving too. I hope to see you there. Perhaps hope is too weak a word…

This lady has a house so big, one could spend a whole evening in it without meeting another soul. And I believe you would adore her garden too, it has many charming nooks to sit down and contemplate.”

Thoughts of a house and garden where they could easily hide from guests had her imagination running: their arms around each other, perhaps even his lips on her neck… She wasn’t naive, she knew what this exchange would lead to. It would be a lie to say she didn’t want it, but she had to be smart about it this time.

She read the letter twice, absorbing every word, admiring his fine penmanship, she stroked the words with her fingertips, lingering on his signature: “Sincerely, J.” One word that meant everything to her.

Betty had to hurry to reply to Jean-François’ letter before the kids awoke. She wrote a rough draft on the back of a drawing by Winifred, but ran out of ink. “Oh, bugger.”

She headed downstairs to Lord Wigram’s study. She was allowed to take paper and ink from there to teach the girls.

The door was ajar, but his lordship wasn’t in. Between the door and the storing cabinet, she glided her hand over the bookcases that lined the wall. She’d borrowed some of these books before. Many were already there when they arrived, left behind by the previous owner, and she seldom saw Lord or Lady Wigram read.

There was one book in particular, with a red leather cover, that always attracted her, but she hadn’t dared take it for fear of getting caught. It was an ancient Indian text translated by Sir Burton, and printed for private circulation only. She’d heard about it in England where it had caused quite a stir: The Kama Sutra.

She tried to ignore it and took the supplies she needed. But Jean-François’ letter and the sneaking out had heated her blood– she surrendered to curiosity and stole the book. She hid it in her apron and rearranged the novels on the shelf so as not to leave a gap. Muffling a squeal into her palm, she hurried back to her room.

Betty hid the book at the bottom of a drawer and took some deep breaths to calm her nerves. Sitting on the edge of her chair at the slope desk, she focused on her calligraphy.

“I think I recall L.W. talking about that celebration this coming Sunday. I so long to see you again. I should love you to show me around the garden. I dream of exploring those little nooks you mentioned.”

The blush on her cheeks spread to her ears, she felt the tips heat up.

She wrote some more about the Indian tale she’d read to the children this morning and how it had made her want to travel to the Himalayas, but she was running out of time. She signed off: “Yours, B.”

Betty checked on the children to make sure they were still napping, before sneaking back down to the garden. She left her letter behind Ganesha for Jean-François’ messenger to pick up.

When she reentered the garden, Samaira, Oliver’s nanny, was there, watching her. Betty yelped, and her hand flew to her heart. Samaira jumped too, but quickly recovered and squinted at Betty, arms crossed on her chest. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Oh, no.

She’d been caught red-handed. And the first thought that entered Betty’s mind didn’t have to do with her job or the Wigrams but with Jean-François. This could mean the end of their correspondence, or worse, of any contact between them. Blood drained from her face.

“Betty? Where were you?” Samaira asked again.

“I, er, I… was out?”

“Out?”

“For a bit of fresh air.”

“In the street?” Samaira insisted.

Betty clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. Her mind reeled to find some reasonable explanation, but Samaira’s dark eyes scared all thoughts from her brain.

“I see you every day.” Samaira smiled, which scared Betty even more. “Me too,” she added.

“You too…?”

“I love a man. Rakesh.” Rakesh was the butler of the Lloyds next door.

“You love Rakesh? Oh!” She wasn’t going to report Betty’s activities to the Wigrams, they were in the same situation. Fear left her body so fast her legs wobbled and she leaned against the fence. “Oh, you’re in love. You will not tell her ladyship about me? I only slip out for a minute.”

“I will not tell, if you don’t.”

“Promise.” She looped arms with Samaira, and they giggled conspiratorily. “So, do you sneak out to meet him?”

Samaira blushed and nodded shyly.

“I don’t, I’m not meeting him,” Betty specified. “We send each other letters.”

“It is Colonel Mercier, yes?”

“How did you know?”

Samaira laughed, she had a lovely musical laughter. “I see him look at you.”

It was Betty’s turn to blush.

The nanny left to get back to Oliver, and Betty lingered in the garden, thinking over this new development. They could help each other, she realized, if she watched Samaira’s back when she met with Rakesh, then she could count on her when she had an opportunity to see Jean-François. Now, she looked forward to Sunday even more, with the nanny’s help she could meet Jean-François in secret during the reception without worrying about the children.

“Betty!” Lady Wigram yelled from the drawing room doorstep. “What do you think you’re doing? Dawdling again, girl?”

“… picking flowers, your ladyship.”

Lady Wigram narrowed her eyes at her. “Where is my husband?”

“I don’t know. I’ve not seen him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, your ladyship.”

“Well, stop wasting your time and come back in, girl, Victoria needs you.”

Betty bowed her head and nipped back to the house.

*

Mercier inspected his skin closely, running his hand over his cheeks to ascertain their smoothness after shaving. Satisfied, he dabbed on some aftershave, the witch hazel lotion made his skin tingled. He rubbed pomade between his palms and added it to his hair. Memories of Betty running her fingers through it filled his mind, and he felt a tightening, low in his abdomen. He left his curls a tad more disheveled than usual. She liked it that way.

Tonight was the Marquise de Brem’s dinner party to celebrate the arrival of her son to Calcutta. The de Brems were one of the last prominent French family in India. He was well acquainted with the Marquise, an older woman who had decided to stay in her country of adoption after her husband’s death. Her son, on the other hand, had not chosen to move to India, but was sent here to avoid a scandal. Or so the rumours went.

Mercier discarded his towel and walked to his closet. The scandal surrounding de Brem didn’t matter right now. The most important thing was Betty’s presence at this dinner party. He brushed the sleeves of several shirts to pick the softest one. In his letters, he’d hinted at the privacy afforded by the Marquise’s house and garden. Betty’s reply gave him hope for further closeness between them tonight. He thought of her body pressed to his in a dark alcove, of kisses stolen under a palm tree in the garden.

Mercier redirected his thoughts to the choice of outfit, he’d thought about Betty at length already in the bath.

He slipped on a dove grey shirt and chose a pair of cufflinks. Betty’s letters were stacked beside the jewelry box, and he rested his hand upon them for a moment.

He’d found in her writing a keen mind. A woman whose observations and interrogations indicated a great curiosity and desire to learn. And he couldn’t think of a more noble quality in any human being. For all his earlier, somewhat impure, thoughts, the intimacy he longed to share with her went beyond the physical.

She was simply charming.

Beside the stack of letters, he kept a list. A list of all the places he wanted to show her in India: the backwaters of Kerala, the theyyam rituals in Kannur, the intricately carved temples of Osian, the abandoned Mughal capital of Fatehpur Sikri, the Golden Temple in Amritsar. Places where she might learn about history and the diverse Indian culture, and live the adventures she desired. He had not allowed himself yet to write down places outside of India, but that list existed, somewhere in his mind.

Unfortunately, one free day a month was far from enough to go through that list. He’d have to find a way to convince Wigram to give her more free time. Men never discussed such things, however, he needed a good strategy. Maybe Gabrielle could help.

Regardless, it shouldn’t be his priority with Wigram. He had yet to find any incriminating evidence against the man, even if he was convinced Wigram was up to something in his dealings with the French. Mercier had to keep investigating. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have an excuse to visit the Wigram’s house anymore.

Mercier straightened his neck tie and headed out with butterflies in his stomach.

From his carriage, he could already hear music. The Marquise de Brem was famous for lively social gatherings. Children were playing hopscotch on the front steps and greeted guests. Mercier searched for Betty’s pupils but didn’t recognize any of them.

Throughout her decades in Calcutta, the Marquise had added to her house levels and wings, turrets, porticoes and balustrades that grew like tree fungus on the original building. All these asymmetries and niches offered hiding opportunities Jean-François hoped to take advantage of.

He strode inside, a bawdy grin already on his lips. As good manners dictated, he first introduced himself to the lady of the house. The Marquise had long ago forgone dresses and corsets in favour of more practical native outfits, but tonight she’d made an effort. After all, she was introducing her son to Calcutta’s high society. Mercier complimented her. “Si j’avais vingt ans de moins”– were I twenty years younger, she sighed, eyeing Jean-François appreciatively as he kissed her hand. “Now, which lucky lady shall I introduce you to?”

“No need Marquise.”

“Is that so?”

The Marquise’s son arrived before she could interrogate him. “Mercier, mon ami,” said de Brem, a fake smile under his blond mustache. “I hear we will be working together again. The old team.”

Mercier ground his teeth, de Brem was the kind of man who took all the credit for work he didn’t do. Probably a side-effect of being praised for the most trivial achievement as a child. “Although, now that I have arrived,” he continued, “you will not be needed here as much. If at all.” Mercier frowned, unable to tell if de Brem was privy to the French governor’s decisions or talking through his hat.

As he was looking for an excuse to get away from de Brem, Wigram walked through the front door with his wife. Only his wife. No beautiful governess to share complicit smiles with. Mercier’s shoulders dropped. He wanted nothing more than leave the party now, but with de Brem’s comment it seemed wiser to stick around and demonstrate his professionalism.

Mercier grabbed a glass of wine and plastered on a smile.

*

Betty woke up to Samaira softly saying her name and shaking her shoulder. “What is it?”

“You need break. I sit with her.”

Betty caressed Winifred’s feverish cheek. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Oliver is sleeping.” She added in a whisper, “you have mail waiting.”

Winifred’s body temperature had risen worryingly fast on Sunday, and the only possible treatment had been to keep her cool. Betty had spent the last 48 hours doing so. She’d missed the dinner party and a chance to see Jean-François, but she’d been too worried about the little girl to think about that. Every one of her whimpers made Betty’s heart ache. These tropical fevers claimed so many lives in India.

The scent of sickness clung to her, Betty washed and changed into another black dress, then headed out into the garden. She filled her lungs with misty, morning air. Reading a letter from Jean-François would offer a welcomed respite.

A bird flew away, Lord Wigram was there, in a dressing gown, bloodshot eyes and dark circles marred his usual jovial face. “How is she?” he asked about his daughter.

“Better. I think. Stable.”

“Good. Good… Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Not at all, your lordship.”

His distant, empty stare glided over the clusters of dwindling frangipanis. “Emma had a fragile health too…” he said, referring to his deceased first wife.

“I know, but she’s a strong one, Winnie.” Betty dared put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Lady Wigram walked out of the house at that moment. She cleared her throat.

“Your breakfast is ready, dear. We can send for the doctor again after.”

Once they’d disappeared inside the house, Betty slipped out of the garden in the backstreet. Behind the statue of Ganesha, she found not one, but three letters.

She opened them in her room. The first one only said: “Are you awake?”

In the second one, his usual fine penmanship became increasingly messy.

“Gajdant is angry with me because I keep sending him to see if you have replied. You must be sleeping. I only wanted to talk to you.

You were not at the diner party. De Brem was at the diner party with his stupid mustache. Quel con. Don’t talk to him. Wigram was there too. I have to talk to him so I can see you. He sees you every day. That is why he only gives you one day off. If I was him, I would not want to not see you. But if I was him I would be married to Lady Wigram. I do not want to marry her.

Where are you Betty? I saw a brige you would like.

It was teribly boring tonight. Everything is borin. Except when you are there. You are not boring. You are beautiful and I want to make you smile all the time. I wantd to go in the garden with you. I should not think that way about you, but I do. When you are close to me I want you closer closer. And I think you want it too. I kissed your forehead last time even your forehead is beautiful. Je voudrais te donner mille autres baisers et pas seulement sur le front. Et te prendre dans mes bras et te garder.

Je m’endors. Good night.”

Betty chuckled as she read his message. “Oh, Jean-François what happened to you?” she said, shaking her head indulgently. The third letter shed some light on the matter.

“Dearest,

I must apologise for my last letter. I am afraid I had too much to drink at the party. I somehow thought writing to you as soon as I arrived home was a good idea. I suppose it was a better idea than climbing to your bedroom window. I hope I have not offended you and you can forgive my behaviour.

Yours sincerely, J.”

*

Mercier paced the hall, waiting for Gajdant, the messenger, to come back. Betty had yet to reply to his last letters, and he feared he’d really upset her with his cognac-inspired messages.

In his letter of apology, he’d wanted to reassure her his intentions were honest and pure, but found he could not do it as it might be a lie. In fact, he didn’t know what his intentions were at all. Did he want more than the companionship and adventure she’d asked for? He only knew her letters made him happy. In nine days, they would see each other again, unrestricted by work or the presence of others. Then, he would know. Surely, it would all prove to be nothing more than an infatuation.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Gabrielle asked.

“Not all day. Until the messenger comes back.”

Gabrielle sat on the recliner and browse the newspaper. “It could take awhile,” she said, “I gave him notes for five of my friends too.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Am I not allowed to send messages too?”

Mercier sighed and sat down beside his sister. “I made a fool of myself.”

“Oh, come now, I’ve seen you drunk, it’s not as bad as you imagine. You need to loosen up sometimes.” She squeezed his shoulder gently, rubbing a thumb over a knot in his muscles.

“I barely know her, and yet I am reduced to this.”

“That’s love, dear brother.”

He huffed and was about to contradict her when the front door opened— Gajdant. Mercier jumped to his feet. The man handed him a folded missive, and Mercier held his breath until he recognized Betty’s handwriting.

“Dear friend,

Apologies accepted for that cavalier letter. I’m sorry I could not be at the dinner party, but one of the girls is ill and I stayed home with her. I had been thinking about this night every day since you first mentioned it. In fact, I’m afraid that I was so fixated on it, I did not notice her health declining. She is feeling better, but I shall devote more of my time to my pupils now. Tonight, I will have more time to write to you.

P.S. I should like to see you try to climb up to my window.”

“Cheeky girl.”

“Good news?” Gabrielle asked, sorting through her own mail.

“I am forgiven.”

“Good for you,” she said. “I’m going to the tailor for my wedding dress, I would ask you to come with me but I have a feeling you already have plans to visit Wigram.”

“If you really need me…”

“Nah, Julia is coming with me already. But don’t forget the concert tomorrow night.”

Mercier changed into a suit then headed to the consulate side of the house. He needed some official-looking papers that would justify the visit.

In the hall, he met de Brem who had already made himself quite at home in the office. “Mercier, excellent, I was looking for you. I have been reading your reports. How is the inquiry on Lord Wigram going?”

“Fine.”

“Have you found anything relevant yet?”

“Nothing concrete yet, but I believe he’s experiencing financial troubles. I was just on my way to meet with him.”

“I will take care of that.” De Brem grabbed the papers out of Mercier’s hands. “I should like to see him for myself.”

“You met him at your mother’s party.”

“Here is something more adequate for your… abilities. I trust you are familiar with the situation in Dhaka.” He handed him a heavy file and left.

Robbed of both an interesting case and an opportunity to see Betty, Mercier clenched his jaw. He glared at de Brem’s receding silhouette.

The file concerned a French indigo manufacturer in negotiations with the local zemindar, he required immediate help from the consulate. Mercier swore under his breath: he had to leave Calcutta.

*

Betty adored these moments when she had the house to herself. The children were asleep and their parents out for the night to a concert. Even Samaira had left, Betty had helped her sneak out to meet Rakesh. Lady Wigram’s absence, in particular, was a relief. These days, she watched the governess closer than before and had taken to entering Betty’s bedroom without knocking or asking permission.

The domestics too enjoyed the absence of the mensahib, their muted chatter reached Betty’s ears in the living room. They prepared the house for the night: they turned down beds, pulled curtains, lighted lamps and candles, and set the table for breakfast.

Betty curled on the sofa, pulling her sleeveless nightgown over her knees. In the warm glow of an oil lamp, she reread Jean-François’ last letter.

“I am eager to spend more time with you. There are so many places I should like to take you, but wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, your wish will be my command.”

Betty sighed dreamily and turned her face to the window. A bright moon shone above the city.

Where was he right now? At the same concert as the Wigrams? She imagined him, ever so handsome in his tuxedo, glass of wine in hand, surrounded by charming people. Surrounded by women, because he attracted them of course.

Betty shook her head to get rid of these jealous thoughts.

“Whatever you want to do”, he’d said. Betty looked down at the book resting on her knees, The Kama Sutra tucked between the pages of her album of pressed flowers.

She’d read diligently through the preface and introduction and the first part describing the sixty-four arts and the arrangement of a house. Tonight, at last, she reached the one she was really interested in. “Part II: On sexual union”. The list of chapters made her blush: “Of the embrace”, “On Kissing”, “On biting”, “About females acting the part of Males”, “On holding the Lingam in the Mouth”.

Betty slammed the book shut and fanned herself. “Oh goodness.” She steeled herself and reopened the book. It began with a description of the kinds of sexual union, and she found herself wondering in which category Jean-François fit. Hare, bull or horse? She suppressed a nervous giggle and kept reading. The author described the pleasure of women and their active participation in the act in ways she hadn’t known possible.

She squirmed on the sofa, imagination aflame with the descriptions of every kind of embrace and kissing:

“When one of two lovers presses forcibly one thigh between those of the other… When a man presses the middle part of the woman's body against his own, and mounts upon her to practise, either scratching with the nail or finger, or biting, or striking, or kissing, the hair of the woman being loose and flowing… Whatever things may be done by one of the lovers to the other, the same should be returned by the other… A mark made on the breast or on the hips is called the "leaf of a blue lotus"… When a person is going on a journey, and makes a mark on the thighs, or on the breast, it is called a "token of remembrance..."

Betty’s chest rose with heavy breaths, heat spread from her core, up her neck to her cheeks. A soft knock startled her. Jean-François was there in his tuxedo, white bow tie and waistcoat, jacket draped over his arm. She blinked, certain it was her mind playing tricks on her. “B— Miss Salinger… are you okay?” She scrambled up to her feet.

“Yes. Sorry.” His gaze moved up and down her body cover by only a thin layer of linen. She toyed with the tip of braid nervously. In their letters, they’d shared their innermost thoughts, and yet she shied away now they met in the flesh.

“I… I think I forgot a document here last time I met with Lord Wigram.”

“Oh, well, I’m afraid his lordship and his wife are not home right now.”

“Yes, the butler informed me.”

“They are at a concert… Were you invited too, colonel?”

“Yes, I was, but I changed my mind.” So he knew she would be alone in the house. “How are the children?” he asked.

“Fine. Winnie recovered. They’re sound asleep at the moment. Such good children, never wake me up at night.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.” Their eyes met, and she bit her lower lip. Was he reading between the lines? She couldn’t speak openly, not when a domestic could walk in a any time. She couldn’t risk it.

“I should look for my book,” he said.

“Of course.”

He stepped inside, and she stepped back. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she watched him search for a book he had never forgotten here in the first place.

Hare, bull or horse, she wondered again as her gaze drifted down his slim torso.

The clock struck ten. “Oh, time for us staff to retire to our rooms.”

“All of you?”

“Yes.”

“Is no one staying up to greet the Wigrams when they get back?”

“I think, the butler, maybe, but he’s staying in the north wing, after he’ll have let you out.”

“I see.” He slipped his jacket back on, ready to leave.

“Wait.” She pushed a book into his hands so it would look like he found what he was looking for. As he took it, his fingers caressed hers.

“Good night, miss Salinger.”

“Good night, Colonel.”

Betty listened to his receding footsteps, then ventured in the hall to make sure the butler saw him exit. She stayed there, immobile, heart hammering until the butler retired to the north wing.

She checked on the children— in deep slumber. She slipped outside, to the garden. She raised her nightgown, and walked farther, the night-cool grass tickled her soles.

A rustle of leaves alerted her to his presence. Jean-François was leaning against the trunk of a palm tree. He’d unknotted his bowtie and opened the first button on his shirt. Right there, below his Adam’s apple, that dip between his clavicles, that’s where she wanted to press her lips. The urge was so strong it robbed her of words.

“I tried to climb up to your window,” he joked to break the silence.

She laughed and relaxed, but only briefly. “You cannot be here.��� She’d warned him not to jeopardise her position. His smiled waned.

“Why did you come in the garden if you didn’t want to see me?”

“I couldn’t resist,” she admitted, “but if we’re caught…”

“I know, I would not have done it if I didn’t have a good reason.”

“What’s going on?”

“I could not leave without seeing you again.”

Her stomach dropped. “You’re leaving?”

“Calcutta, not India, and only for a couple of weeks.”

“Weeks! Can we still write.”

“Yes. Gabrielle will send me your letters, and I will send her mine. But they might take days to reach you.”

The news crushed her chest, breath escaped her. She had not realized how essential their correspondence was to her until now. “Will you be back in time for my day off?”

“I don’t know.”

“But… all the things you said we would do. I…” She swallowed her whining and chewed the inside of her cheeks. He was an important man, with a job and colleagues and friends. Of course, he had other things to do. But she didn’t. She had nothing outside of taking care of the children.

“I will try my best, Betty. I do not want to miss it, believe me.” He stepped closer, and carefully touched her hands, silently asking for permission to hold them. His fingers slipped inside her palms, and he rubbed his thumbs over her skin. She clasped his hands tighter as if to ground herself. He raised them to his lips, peppering kisses across her knuckles. “A demonstrative kiss,” the Kama Sutra called it.

“Jean-François,” she whispered, just to say his name. He looked at her, in the darkness she could barely discern his face, she touched it instead, featherlight brushes across his temples, down the narrow bridge of his nose, along his jawline. She touched his lower lip, soft and plum under the pad of her fingers. She was always the one touching him, she realized and thus raised his hand to her cheek. His long fingers cradled her face tenderly, and she felt like something precious.

“Is it odd, if I say I will miss you?” she asked.

“Then I am odd too.”

She placed her hands upon his chest, and thought of pressing her nails into his skin, “a token of remembrance”. Something to remember her by. She’d been forgotten too many times before. “What are you thinking?” he asked. Rather than answer, she kissed the skin between the lapels of his shirt. A simple, lingering press of the lips, restrained by modesty. She breathed in the herbal notes of his cologne. His breath hitched, and he burrowed his hands into her hair. He tugged, angling her head back. He stared at her parted lips, and she reveled in that hungry gaze. “Betty,” he growled, half warning, half begging. She pecked his lips briefly and stepped away. He frowned.

“Godspeed, Jean-François. Come back quickly,” she said, something teasing slipping into her words. “You’ll have more” was implied.

He looked fixedly at her, his face betrayed nothing, and she worried she’d upset until he chuckled and sighed.

“I will be back sooner than you think. And I won’t let you stop next time. You might need this.” He returned the book she’d thrust into his hands earlier: her album of pressed flowers with The Kama Sutra inside.

“Oh, I… it’s not what you think.”

“I rather hope it is what I think. Write to me, as often as you can. We can compare notes.” He smirked and left her weak in the knees.

Chapter 6: Biting

[unwillingkomaedakin]

Entry 5 - July 4th 2020

i'm writing this on the tumblr app, which lowkey seems to not be that great, so when i get back home i'll edit and fix these trip posts. today was the first day of my family's trip to the capital of the state. literally the only reason we're here is because my mom is a stupid thot who's chasing a rich guy who's going on a vacation to the capital, so of course my mom followed him. literally no one wanted to come, everyone wanted to stay home. but my mom forced us all to come because she's a fucking bitch. anyway, i won't write about everything that happened, just some key parts i suppose.

i have a really hard time falling asleep due to my insomnia, and an even harder time falling asleep in a car because it's uncomfortable and loud. so i decided to go two days without sleep (with about 2-3 hours of naps sprinkled between) so i'd be really tired and sleep for most of the car trip. we've gone to the capital multiple times before, and the drive is like 7 hours long. it's horribly boring, not to mention having to spend all that time with the people i hate most on this earth (my family). i could go on about my hatred for them, but that's not important right now. ew i fucking hear my brother and mom making out right now. fucking kill me.

anyway my plan worked and i slept for almost all of the car trip. what's funny is that this trip came out of literally nowhere, and days before she told us about this trip, she was always complaining that she had no money. how stupid does she think i am? my asshat of a mom said that the place we were staying at wasn't ready yet so we had to kill a few hours. we went to a shopping center and i found a psvita copy of ultra despair girls, so that was kinda cool. after like three hours of walking around and my mom blowing her money on stupid shit, we left. i bought an ipad on afterpay, so yay for that i suppose.

my mom called the place we were staying at and they said our room was ready already SI we could come early. when we got there we realized we got the wrong room so we went to reception and they messed up our rooms. i feel like my luck caused that. we went to a nearby shop to buy milk and bread while they prepared our actual room, and when we got back we were able to leave our stuff in our actual room since it was all shoved in the back of the car.

we stayed in the room for a while, i played animal crossing. after, my mom told us (i should mention it was me, my mom, my older brother and my younger step-sister on the trip and in my family) that we were going to eat dinner somewhere undecided with my grandparents (who are nice but i don't really care about them. i hate the whole "you should love your family because you're family" thing, it's beyond stupid.). we got an uber to the hotel where my grandparents were staying and we walked around for a while looking for somewhere to eat. we eventually settled on hungry jacks (known in most countries as burger king i think) even though i didn't want to go. they didn't care about me or my opinions or input, they kept even forgetting about me and walking off without me.

i love the capital, it's great and full of diverse people. but the experience is basically ruined if you go with people you fucking despise. when we ate i sat with my grandma (probably the nicest person there) and she asked about my friends (which i should mention i have none). i told her i have no friends and we talked about it for a little bit and how i want to move schools again. my mom overheard and shot down the idea, my grandma even suggested homeschooling but my mom insists that i stay in a school full of people who hate and bully me all the time. if i kill myself, it's totally that bitch's. all of my misery is my mother's fault, i can't describe how much i fucking hate her. the fact that she was so persistent on me staying at a school that made me feel like shit made me cry twice, but no one noticed luckily. we left and walked around for a while then eventually returned to my grandparents hotel. we had trouble getting an uber to bring us back to our hotel, but eventually we got one.

that sorta brings me to now. my mom is saying tomorrow we're going to some market thing. i want to go home. we have to stay here for like another 5 days. i'm already miserable from just one day, i wonder how much worse things can get in that period of time. we'll just have to wait and see. i already hyperventilated twice before coming here, once during today, and almost one right now. i'm gonna try and sleep the despair off before it engulfs me. i want to hope that things will get better. that's the only thing i can do. so that's what i'll do.

[ask-artsy-oncie]

I guess it’s time to overshare again...

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 people to be tagged. tagged by @duckybeth99​

LAST: Last drink: It was probably grapefruit juice lmao Last phone call: Mama Last text message: “https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQZ70ttAsjM I love you I love you I love you"
 (to my girlfriend) Last song you listened to: MapleStory’s Sleepywood Theme Last time I cried: I’m pretty sure a couple days ago...

HAVE YOU EVER:
 Dated someone twice: Nah, I mean, kinda? Me and my gf took a break a couple years back but it wasn’t like we weren’t planning on coming back to each other... Been cheated on: No. Kissed someone and regretted it: Not as far as I can remember... Lost someone special: Yes...
 Been depressed: :) Been drunk and thrown up: No, I haven’t even had an alcoholic bev outside of a few sips.

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
 Made a new friend: Yes...!! A few..!! Fallen out of love: Depends on what sense you mean that in... I’ve fallen out of love with certain media, a few people I used to call friends, a creative inspiration... but not with my girlfriend...! Laughed until you cried: Absolutely. I drown my sorrows in YouTube comedies. Met someone who changed you: Yeah. A few people, and in a few ways. Found out who your true friends were: I... guess...? I mean I went through that song and dance when I graduated high school so not much has changed... Found out someone was talking about you: Yes.

GENERAL:
 How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: I don’t know if you mean “outside of tumblr” (like an extensive social time on skype or discord) or literally I have physically met them. I’m just going to leave it to “I can count the number on my hands” because either way that’s true. Do you have any pets?: I have had a lot of pets over the course of my life. My family loves animals and we need a cat to take care of the rodents. It’s mostly been cats, I’ve known... like five cats in the years I’ve been conscious..? We currently only have one left... and then we’ve had four dogs (three at the same time at one point) and currently only have one left. We also currently have a goldfish named Dimples. (who used to be a classroom pet in Mama’s classroom) Do you want to change your name?: Nah, I was named after my grandmother and I value that... The name means a lot to Papa and my family. I do have a masc./neutral name but I don’t consider my legal name my dead name?? Pls don’t be afraid to use it. What time did you wake up this morning?: lmao like 4:30 AM bc cramps are the worst. What were you doing last night?: I drew something right before I went to bed, but other than that, I got my hair bleached and dyed, and was in the process of dyeing some fabric.
 Name something you cannot wait for: halloween halloween hALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN!!!!! (+ Halloween at Disneyland lmao) Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes my cat’s name is Tom and I have to yell at him all the time. 
 What’s getting on your nerves right now?: If menstrual cramps and acne could both just stop existing I’d be really happy. Blood type: I don’t know, I got my blood tested recently and they wouldn’t fukcing tell me. All I know is that Papa is an O type so maybe I am too...?? Nickname: Fina/Artsy Relationship status: *inhales* I LOVE MY GF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 Zodiac sign: Cancer Pronouns: he/him/she/her
 Favorite tv show: I’ve got a lot of favorites... too many favorites, really. I’ll have to compile a list someday... College: SF State. Hair color: Most of my hair is brown, but my bangs are pretty much the bisexual flag. Do you have a crush on someone: I mean....... @duckybeth99 is pretty damn cute~~ But I also have a long list of fictional character crushes too. What do you like about yourself: I guess... I.... like that I have really vivid, lucid dreams...? It’s entertaining, at least...

FIRSTS:
 First surgery: I had to get a baby tooth removed because it refused to fall out. First piercing: I am a virgin in that regard... First sport you joined: I guess ballet/tap, but if you want like a non-performing arts sport, then basketball (which I ended up playing for like 8 years) First vacation: My family went to visit my grandmother in Warshington a couple months after 9/11 so like that was pretty wild... First pair of sneakers: Again like I don’t know how you expect anyone to remember that unless they had a vivid childhood memory concerning their sneakers. Dude, I remember the first time I ate a pack of instant ramen better than I remember my first sneakers. If I had to make an educated guess, they were probably Velcro sneakers because I had an abhorrence for tying my shoes.

Eating: I should be eating breakfast it’s like 6:55 rn... Drinking: And I’ll have some grapefruit juice with that breakfast I’m sure... I’m about to: Make breakfast fuck I’m hungry.... Listening to: The world waking up, birds chirping... and idk the sound of my keyboard is pretty nice too... Want kids: Yes. Get married: Absolutely. Career: Listen I would adore spending the rest of my life as a comic artist, storyboarder, or character designer... I really, that’s what I want to do with my whole entire life. But just... the way things are, doesn’t really feel like I’m going to be able to get there.... So I’ve set myself up a path of getting my credentials to become an art teacher at my local high school and replace the godawful one there now...

WHICH IS BETTER:
 Lips or eyes: Don’t make me choose between that. I love both of those things.... Hugs or kisses: Same. Shorter or taller: Really depends... I like taller guys and shorter girls... (or... I mean... I could BE the taller guy too I am 100% A-OK with that.) Older or younger: Yeah this makes me uncomfortable, so I’m gonna pretend this is a general life question and I gotta say adulthood is rather underrated if you can keep your childhood interests in your heart. Basically I have money now and that’s pretty baller. Romantic or spontaneous: Romantic. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive... Loud is fine but I like when people are emotionally open... Hook up or relationship: Mama always said not to date anyone I couldn’t see myself marrying... Troublemaker or hesitant: Idk I’m chill with both, but I guess with hesitant people you got yourself more of a chance of staying alive haha

HAVE YOU EVER:
 Kissed a stranger: No.
 Drank hard liquor: Nope. Lost glasses/contacts: Of course, I do that all the fucking time, all the FUCKING TIME. Sex on first date: ...I am a virgin in that regard, as well... Broken someone’s heart: Yes, I know for sure that I have. Been arrested: No. Turned someone down: Yes, and the entire situation was unpleasant as fuck please do not ask me to elaborate on that ever. Fallen for a friend: My girlfriend is my friend ;)

DO YOU BELIEVE:
 In yourself: Complicated, next question. Miracles: To a degree, yeah. Love at first sight: Yeah, but I’m a goddamned romantic *shrugs* Heaven: ehhh.... another Complicated.

TAG: I don’t know 25 people to tag. I guess some mutuals would be @tisbubb, @xxthederptorxx, @lastoneout, @ilananight, and @chanditoys (only if you guys want to!) other than that uuuuhhhhhhhh if you reading this and you wanna, go ahead lmao I can’t stop you.