#was an abusive gnome and the other had no sense of what to say and not say lol

[ssaalexblake]

Love how the last dragon tear I got was the one of the great great x whatever grandparents taking tea with Zelda and lightly testing about that man Link you're soooooo preoccupied about.

This is what grandparents Do in media. Maybe they do in RL, I cannot confirm tho.

But like, after the death and destruction I get the cutest one. Oops?

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Hi, may I get a match-up for the hobbit please? I'm genderfluid they/them) and would like to shipped with a masc character please.

I'm an INFP-A, 9w1. My horoscope is gemini sun, leo moon, and libra rising. All of those are extremely accurate lol. I'm very whimsical and distant, but once you get to know me I'm even MORE whimsical and very emotionally intense lol. I'm a bit of a manic pixie dream girl lol. My intensity usually intimidates people, but otherwise I'm very open and friendly once you get to know me. I'm observant and introspective, which ironically makes it difficult for me to make friends and makes me a bit sensitive. I'm extremely compassionate, empathetic, patient, and understanding. It's one of my worst traits as well, since i struggle with forming boundaries and being angry at people who mightve wronged me. I'm also incredibly indecisive. I'm not a pushover though, and have no problem gently letting ppl know when I disagree with them or something.

The animals that my friends/family say remind them of me are bears and elephants. My favorite color is yellow, and my favorite flowers are honeysuckle and jasmine. My favorite season is a tie between summer and winter, even though I HATE the cold.

With my friends I'm very chaotic and they describe me as "a silly gnome/goblin". When with them i initiate most hangouts and have always been a sort of ring leader.

My giving love language is quality time and words of affirmation. Receiving they are physical touch and quality time.

I come from an abusive household and had to look out for my younger siblings (2 younger sisters and 3 cousins who are basically brothers).I've been through a lot and that's given me a unique perspective on the world and what it means to be alive.

For hobbies I really enjoy reading, crafting, writing poetry and am very good at it, and just spending time outside. I love listening to music and listen to absolutely everything and enjoy it lol. I'm very go-with-the-flow and am down for practically anything and everything at least once. I don't like mean-spirited things/people, the cold, and being man-handled lol.

My style is very hippie/70s with goth influence. I have very long dark straight mahogany hair and blue eyes, and a very small/petite frame (hence not liking being manhandled lol). I'm very pretty in a free-spirited way, and I'm quite graceful.

My ideal type is someone who can get me out of my shell a bit while still appreciating my soft/whimsical side. Someone who can have my back and we can be our inner children together, if that makes sense. I'd do well with someone who could understand me, and help me be the best version of myself. I believe love and empathy are the only things worthwhile in life, in all the various forms they take, despite what I've been through. It terrifies me though, so id need someone to convince me to take that leap with them. Its easy to scare me off as well so someone who could understand how to approach me without overwhelming me would be best. In relationships I'm very much drawn to a twin flame sort of dynamic lol.

((I'm sorry if I did this wrong, I couldn't find any rules through navigation on mobile or anything other than your post about opening match-ups, I'm so sorry if I did this wrong! Thank you so much💗))

you did everything right, no worries!! there actually should be a post on rules and stuff tho so um, i'll have to go check what's wrong with that soon. but you're all good!!

im a bit insecure about just how this turned out, cant really tell if you'll like it but we'll see!

I ship you with...

Fili!

You've known Fili your entire life. You were born at around the same time Kili was and you're pretty sure that's the reason why you're so close to them. It makes sense. Your parents had never been the best and you had a lot of family that you were happy to escape from now and then, plus Dis was lovely and more of a mother to you than yours ever was. So you spent the better part of your childhood with Kili - and with Kili meant with Fili as well, because they came in a package deal. Always.

While Kili grew to be your best friend, much like a brother, Fili... you'd always felt a few butterflies around. You could've written it off as some kind of childhood crush, of an infatuation in your teenage years, but honestly, you'd never quite got over it. You were older now, old enough that you should have long since been normal about the whole thing, old enough to have found work for yourself and left your parents behind. But you were still just as close to Kili and Fili and no, you were not over your crush in the slightest. Over the years, you'd just gotten better at pushing it down and suppressing it.

So you're there with them when Thorin calls on them for the quest of reclaiming Erebor. You're there because you're practically family, because Thorin knows and trusts you, and you're just as quick to agree as his nephews. And why wouldn't you go? You love them all dearly, you'd never been on an adventure before and Erebor was your home too, after all, or would have been at least, under different circumstances. So a few weeks later you start out on a life-changing journey with your two favourite dwarves in the whole world and you're honestly only a bit wistful because you'd had to leave your books and paper behind.

The three of you are a force to be reckoned with. Kili matches your chaotic energy exactly and Fili is - though certainly being the most responsible out of the three of you - still not nearly as responsible as his uncle, so your journey to Bilbo's little home all the way in Bag's End is some of the most fun you've had in your entire life. Daily life with them is obviously great as well, but what with your work and all, you haven't seen them this much in a long, long while.

It quiets down a bit when the rest of the company joins (most of them you know, some of them you can't remember), but you're still enough to get on Thorin's nerves quite a lot. You do make friends with Bilbo, though, who's drawn to just how whimsical and open you are. He may have been a bit put off by your joking about with Kili and Fili at the start, but you have him charmed a few days into your journey. You talk about books and plants and really, anything at all, and by day six you think you may have found a new life-long friend in Bilbo.

But even though you're now spending your time getting to know someone new, you're still as observant as ever, and you notice - of course you do - that the closer you get to Bilbo, the less you see of Fili. Kili is always close by and you certainly spend at least half of your time joking about with him, but whenever you ride or walk next to Bilbo, talking and laughing, Fili seems to disappear somewhere into the background, so much so that you actually have to search for him to spot him. It hurts, a bit, because you can't seem to pinpoint just what's wrong for a while. Wasn't everything just fine when you started out on this journey? Had you said something, done something wrong? You knew this kind of thing from your parents, but never from Fili, especially because he knew about... well, about everything, really, so he knew just how sensitive you could be about things like these. You did your best not to let it bother you too much.

Instead, you focused on Bilbo. He was funny and sweet, intelligent and understanding and for as much as you love the dwarves, for as much as you love your kin, you like that he's not as rough and intense. He's different. And maybe you're a bit different than the rest of the dwarves, too - you'd always been a bit slimmer and smaller and more petite than the rest and maybe that had shaped your personality in some way, too, you weren't sure. Maybe that's why the two of you grew so close in such short time.

You express your feelings for him quite the same way you do for everyone: loud and chaotic, just the way you are. You tell him that he's funny and sweet, intelligent and understanding because that's exactly how you show people that you like them, so, well, you do. But every time when, in the spur of the moment, you give Bilbo a friendly compliment, out of the corner of your eyes you see Fili scoff. You frown and try not to interpret too much into it, but it's hard - after all, you've been doing nothing but interpret and think and imagine because you've kept all of your feelings for Fili bottled up inside of you for your entire life, analysing and wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny little chance that he liked you that way, too. Not that you've ever really found anything. He was always just Fili.

But not this time. No, not this time. This time he's scoffing and turning away and staring gloomily at you when he thinks you don't notice because you're too deep in conversation with Bilbo. You do, though, definitely, because he's not being as secretive as he thinks he is. You watch him argue with Kili one evening, which you're sure hasn't happened this severely in years. Simply put, he's being weird.

He stomps off and Kili plops down next to you right after - you ask, of course, what's wrong with his brother, but you've asked Kili multiple times already and he simply won't tell you. And as much as Fili's behaviour is upsetting you, you won't go up to him either, because you're not that kind of person that pushes others - you're not even really angry, you rarely are, because whatever the reason is why Fili is behaving this way, there surely is a reason and you know him well enough to be aware that it's a good one too.

It all comes to an end in Rivendell. Most of the dwarves are in a bad mood, Bilbo hasn't been as ecstatic the entire journey and Gandalf seems to be much happier here than travelling, so the company is a bit split when it comes to their opinions on this place. You don't mind it much. You like being clean for once. Bathing had become a luxury. So while the dwarves keep complaining and brooding moodily, you're talking happily with Bilbo and Gandalf.

The elves seem a bit put off by you, but you're used to that, and after a night in Rivendell, when the dwarves have started brooding less and - well, no, they're still complaining just as much - some of the elves are conversing more and more with you. Maybe it's because you're spending most of your time with Bilbo and Gandalf (and Elrond in tow) or maybe it's because you're open and friendly, but either way you're meeting new people left and right. And that's when Fili's behaviour changes yet again.

Instead of staying out of your space and scoffing, suddenly he's by your side everywhere you go, every step you take. You're happy at first, excited that he so surprisingly comes back to you (now you're glad that you weren't all that angry in the first place), but it becomes clear after a few minutes already that he's not there to talk to you very much. It seems that he's made it his mission to stand gloomily beside you, glare at everybody who comes close to you and generally answer everything you say to him with an unmotivated "hmpf". It irritates you.

But when you get woken up by an annoyingly loud knock in the middle of the night, that's it for you. You open the door to see Fili and you're not even angry, you're really just... tired. In every sense. He's standing there in his night clothes and he seems to have had an epiphany of some sort, he looks starstruck and you're so done. You're so done you just pull him in, close the door, get back in bed, pat the empty space next to you and tell him that if he wants to talk, he should do it quickly, before you fall asleep again.

He stands in the middle of your room for so long you've actually almost fallen asleep again when he speaks up. Stuttering, which isn't what you're used to at all when it comes to him, and stumbling over his words, admitting that he's been acting stupid, that he's been acting dumb, admitting that the reason, that reason that you were sure was there, is that he's in love with you. Deeply, desperately, for so long he can't remember a time when he wasn't.

You don't really think you've heard him right but you also don't care. It's too late, you're too tired, he's looking too warm and broad and comfortable and before you can think about much anything, you've reached for him and guided him to your bed and cuddled up to him - he smells familiar, he feels safe, and he's reaching his arms around you and placing a kiss on your hair and telling you good night and somewhere in your hazy mind, you recognise the weird feeling in your stomach as butterflies.

The next morning, you wake up warm and cozy and when you open your eyes, you're facing Fili. You're actually, honestly, truly facing Fili. It takes two seconds to register. Then you feel his breath on your lips and his forehead against yours and your eyes fall closed all by themselves as you listen to him ask if he can kiss you now. You let him. Of course you let him.

You actually do talk it out that morning, though. Between a lot of kisses and a lot of cuddling, there's also a lot of talking. You're a bit nervous (even though that feeling settles after about the third or fourth kiss) but Fili has always been good at convincing you that you were brave and strong enough to do anything, and with the rhythmic stroke of his hand on your arm, the way he beams at you when he makes you giggle, how happily he listens to you talk, all of that convinces you in just a few hours how very right you were to pine for him your entire life.

When you don't show up for breakfast, you guess the others were worried some elf had killed you in your sleep, so Kili comes knocking on your door some time before noon. In full Kili fashion, he doesn't really knock at all, he more like just comes barging into your room, so you have barely enough time to look up before he stands at the foot of your bed with a dumb grin on his face that tells you he was very much aware of what was going on with his brother the past few weeks.

You don't mind. You don't really mind anything anymore. Because you spend your days in Fili's arms now, with his hand in yours and courting braids in your hair, and you're happier than you've ever been before. Now the people you'd always considered family more than your real family did become your real family, a few years after you'd recovered Erebor, on the day that you marry Fili. The happiest day of your life, because Fili made you feel exactly the way you'd always wished he would, because he was exactly what you'd always wanted, because you loved him. And because he loved you.

[semper-legens]

34. The House in the Cerulean Sea, by TJ Klune

Owned: No, library Page count: 398 My summary: Linus Baker is a case worker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth, assigned to orphanages to see that magical children are being properly cared for. Proper and by-the-book, he is assigned to a ‘problem’ orphanage on a remote island - an orphanage that hosts a female gnome, a wyvern, a forest sprite, a blob boy, a werewolf, and the literal antichrist. Linus is expecting the worst. But with every day that passes, Linus finds himself caring more and more for the odd family on the island, headed by mild-mannered Arthur Parnassus and Zoe the island sprite. And as time goes by, Linus begins to wonder if he has a life outside of paperwork... My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

This book comes very well-recommended. And it's entirely up my street. I mean, please, a book about a home full of magical children seen as strange by the world and facing a lot of prejudice, and the case worker who falls in love with them and their lives? That's got me written all over it. And it was a fun book! Very charming, very endearing. The kids were all delightful, the main character was interesting, and I loved the world this was set in. More under the cut!

Our protagonist is Linus Baker, a by-the-book case worker for the government's branch dealing with magical youth. He goes into orphanages, ensures everything's running as it should, then leaves. He doesn't have dreams or ambitions, he's just a drone. But on going to the island, he finds his humanity, and allows himself to desire. In general I like protagonists in this kind of fiction that aren't Hot Young Singles, so seeing this relatively mediocre middle-aged man was actually really interesting! And his romance with Arthur, the head of the orphanage, was sweet. They play very well off each other, you really get a sense for how deeply compatible these two men are. The kids are also a delight. Fundamentally they're all just weird kids with magic powers who don't much trust outsiders - my favourite was Chauncey, a blob-boy who really wants to be a bellhop. Why? Saw it in a movie once and became obsessed with the notion. Which is exactly how little kid special interests work.

Not only is the worldbuilding here interesting, it's also revealed in small doses or at natural times, such as Linus going over the Rules and Regulations or reading case files. Magical beings are a Thing in this world, and are an oppressed minority, with children being forced into orphanages or schools and often abused by their caretakers. The signalling is pretty clear - the See Something, Say Something posters mentioned to be all over the place are so reminiscent of the posters with the exact same slogan that are all over train stations targeting immigrants. But magical beings aren't exactly one metaphor. Arthur and Linus' status as gay men are also the metaphor, it's allegorically representing a broad spectrum of marginalised communities.

The biggest gripe I had with this book was that the stakes didn't feel all that high. The kids are shown to be capable, threats are dealt with reasonably quickly, and people warm up to the kids rapidly on meeting them. A few decide to hate them for what they are, but they're portrayed more as one-note bigots than anything else. I get the wider point the book was trying to make about prejudice and systemic inequality, and it's admittedly effective in showing how individuals are often powerless in the face of systemic prejudice, and how even systems that seem to be working well from an outside perspective can be rotten to the core. It's just simplistic in its worldview, which isn't by necessity that bad a thing, but I was hoping for a little more nuance.

Next up...come on, grab your friends.

[zesstra-dnd]

No, I want to know why they just decided not to go into Astarions backstory more showing how he was when he was alive and how he was the sort of person who'd of probably sold Karlach and be smug about it. Instead we get a bunch of oo feel sorry for mee.. Even with the other spawn. They go through the same fucking shit but the games like ooh but Astarion look at his pretentious face isn't it soo innocent. I'm sorry people saying ooh he only supports you been evil/selfish because of his abuse but I'd say a lot of that is more from his life as a magister with only a bit from the abuse.

Then we've got his racism which is especially worse if you're playing a gnome because to him you're a creature who doesn't deserve to live.

Larian missed out on a lot of shit but now I'm stuck watching this guy be portrayed as some soft innocent little boy who is only mean because of his abuse like sorry no he wasn't innocent, there was a reason the gurr had every right to kill him, chances are With Astorians ego the vampires he was selling "criminals" got sick of his overconfidence and I can guarantee he tried to Threaten them thinking he had more. Power, basically something similar to the gross way he behaves if he ascends where he thinks he's stronger than he is telling tav to get in thier knees, saying that they are waiting for his command, it's weird and gross and if be killing him immediately though kicking him in the dick is hilarious

Sorry but Larian wasn't that good with dialogue choices. So much so that they had to patch in choices that made more sense than the ones we got even so. It's still not completely done.

LARIAN jsut let us have some evil guy who did fucked up shit in his past maybe he gets a cutscene where he's thinking about what happened to all those innocent people he sentenced/sold and feeling bad about it.

Also a cutscene of ascended Astarion getting the shit kicked out of him by other companios. And getting told to get his ego under control because he is nowhere as strong as he thinks he is because there is no way they would all just stand there and do nothing

He gets sooo much fucking reactions and screen time but poor Wyll barely gets any even where it would make sense as others take other any he might have also Halsin needs a complete rewrite most of them do with starting the romances because tell me why Minthera the evil lady is the most chill. About been rejected

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 9 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Your first night at Frankies, yearning mostly . . . no hanky panky! (yet 👀)

Warnings: Talk of abuse, talk of death of loved ones

W/C: 2.2k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 10

Frankie was buzzing with adrenaline as he drove you and Manny back to the restaurant. His hand hurt slightly, but he couldn’t stop think about how damn goodit felt to punch Kurt in the face, how when he heard the fear in your voice, everything turned red. How it took everything not to crush the vermin under his boot. But, he would unpack those feelings later, preferably over a case of beer with the boys. They, of all people, would understand.

You got out of the truck to say goodbye to Manny, and Frankie didn’t miss how you rubbed your lower back, how even from where he sat, he could see the ring of a bruise blossoming around your wrist.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said, climbing back into the truck. Frankie glanced at the clock on the dash – barely five minutes had passed. “Are you completely sure it’s okay I stay with you?”

“I want you to stay,” Frankie said. “Please, don’t get it in your head that you’re an inconvenience. I know you well enough by now to see that’s exactly where you’re heading.”

You laughed weakly. “I hate that you’re right,” you said, “I’m just not used to having extra help.” Frankie nodded, and waited for you to continue. “For a second in there, before you and Manny came in . . .I was terrified. I forgot I wasn’t alone and I – thank you, for what you did in there. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in when you did.”

You slumped back in your seat and closed your eyes.

“I think this whole thing got rid of my hangover, though,” you joked.

“You’re young enough that you can bounce back quickly from hangovers,” Frankie said, taking the obvious hint for a change in the subject.

“Please, you’re barely older than me,” you said. “You’re like, what? Thirty?”

“Thirty-two,” Frankie corrected.

“Oh my apologies, you’re ancient,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Frankie grinned and shook his head. It amazed him how easily you could still make a joke, despite everything you had been through today alone.

It was almost sunset when he pulled up to his home. Golden light splayed across your features, making you glow. Stunning. The thought was in Frankie’s mind before he could stop it. You turned to smile at him.

“Nice gnomes,” you said gesturing to the dozens of gnomes of varying sizes that were scattered around Frankie’s front garden. He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced.

“Thanks. My Abuelo used to give me one every Christmas, right up until he died last year.”

“I’m sorry,” you said your voice sincere, “I know how hard that is.”

Frankie shrugged, not wanting to talk about how after his Abuelo died, he made himself sick with grief. Instead, he chose to share something happier. “He used to hide things in them, since they’re all hollow. Sometimes it would be candy, or money. Once he hid my first iPod in one.”

“Sounds like he was a cool dude,” you said and Frankie nodded.

“He was the coolest,” Frankie agreed.

You were quiet for a few moments, holding your arms across your chest. The toll of the day was written plainly on your face, weariness lending itself to the dark circles under your eyes, to the way your shoulders curled inwards. Without thinking about it, Frankie wrapped his arms around you. You leant into the hug, burying your face into his neck. He rubbed your back gently, careful to avoid the spot he knew you were still hurting. You stood like that for a while, warmth leeching into him, and when you finally pulled away, you were almost quick enough to hide your damp eyes.

“Wanna go in?” Frankie asked, already feeling colder without you. He wanted to tug you back, hold you to him and not let go. You nodded, still not looking directly at him.

Inside, the house was cool and dark. Frankie tugged his cap off and placed it on a hook by the door, running a hand through his curls to fluff them up. He was suddenly more self-conscious than he had ever been before. He very rarely brought women back here, and when he did, he never liked them as much as he liked you.

He tried to imagine what you were thinking – were you grossed out at his unwashed breakfast plate sitting in the sink? Was the number of photos of family and friends that hung up on the walls and sat framed on every surface excessive? He didn’t remember seeing any photos like that at your apartment. But then, he also hadn’t been looking.

“It’s uh, not much,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“It suits you,” you said. Was it a compliment? Frankie wasn’t sure, until you continued. “Like, at first, it seems a little understated, but the more I look the more I see how you it all is.” You wandered over to a shelf stuffed with books and records, most of them coming from his old room at his parents when they had cleaned out their home a few years back.

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being nosy,” you said, tilting your head to read the spines. Most of the books were well loved classics – stuff that Frankie had read over and over until the covers became loose and pages began to fall out.

“Just don’t search the drawers in my bedroom, that’s where I keep all my vintage Playboys and a spare bag of mushrooms.”

You snorted with laughter and turned to face him properly. Your eyes were still puffy and red, but no longer teary. Frankie counted that as a victory. “You always struck me as more of an acid guy. Just like you’re striking me as a fan of Thai food?”

“Big fan, actually.”

“Excellent, I know this great place that delivers, I’ll pay.” When Frankie opens his mouth to protest, you hold a hand up silencing him. “Please, let me pay. I owe you big time for doing this, all of this, for me.”

Frankie eventually conceded, sensing that you were infinitely more stubborn than him. Thai food was ordered and delivered, the scent of the panang curry made Frankie’s mouth water. You sat across from him at the table, eyeing him. It took a few moment for Frankie to realise you had put one of his albums on – Erykah Badu, he quickly identified.

“Can I ask you something?” you said after swallowing a mouthful of pad Thai.

“Anything,” he said. Just don’t ask me how long I’ve wanted to fuck you.

“What’d you mean today, when you said it’s not my fault?”

Frankie wasn’t expecting that. “Well, all that stuff Kurt did – like trying to kill himself, that’s not your fault.” You shrugged, clearly unconvinced, so Frankie ploughed on. “It’s just a form of emotional manipulation. Do you remember Benny, the guy your friend went home with last night? His sister, Eve, kind of went through something similar. Her partner would threaten to hurt himself and her if she tried to leave. It wasn’t until she ended up in hospital that she told Benny and Will what was happening.”

You looked horrified. “Is she okay?”

Frankie made a wavering motion in the air with his hand. “Some – most days are better than others. She moved to Portland, met a really nice lady, they’re getting married in the summer.”

“Good for her,” you murmured.

“But like I said, it’s not your fault. None of it is. He’s the one to blame, if he tries anything. He’s in control of his actions, you aren’t.” Frankie’s voice was firm, and he refused to look away from you as he spoke. He needed, more than anything, for you to understand that.

The next few hours passed quietly, sitting next to each other on his worn couch, Netflix half forgotten while you drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually, when the sky turned from black to grey to pink, Frankie showed you the spare room and gave you some privacy, knowing you probably needed some time to yourself after the gruelling day. He knew that sometimes all a person needed was some time alone to process. He sat on the couch and pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket.

Andi, the waitress, had given him her number, followed by three x’s and a winky face. Once, Frankie would have opened his messenger app and texted her, asking her out. But now. . . he found he wasn’t at all interested. He crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash.

~*~

How long is too long to spend in someone else’s shower? Five minutes? Ten? Until the hot water runs out? Vanilla and honey body wash? Oh, shit that smells delicious.

You kept your thoughts light, avoiding the darkness that brewed in the forefront of your mind. You felt like you were going through a billion crisis’s, so instead of focusing on any, you decided to focus on none.

You thought back to Frankie’s intense gaze as he spoke to you at dinner, how incredibly sexy it had been. You were shocked you could think something like that after the day you’d had, but the thoughts had entered unwelcome into your mind. You tucked them away for later, when you weren’t so close to him and wouldn’t feel burning shame if you looked at him.

Stepping out of the shower, you took a deep breath and decided to truly inspect the . . . damage that was done today. Your wrist was already bruising and ached slightly when you thought too much about it. You faced your back to the mirror and twisted, grimacing at the sight of the damage Kurt had caused. Your lower back, like your wrist, was bruised black and purple. You quickly wrapped a towel around yourself, hiding the damage.

Deep breath, Spud, you’re stronger than you think.

Your grandfathers voice echoed in your ears. It was what he would say to you whenever you were hurt – just fallen out of a tree and fractured your ankle, sliced your finger open cutting onions, sobbing because the boy you had convinced yourself was your soulmate at fifteen just dumped you the day after you lost your virginity to him, it was always your grandfathers voice saying those words. Your heart ached with missing him.

The room Frankie had showed you was more of a home gym with a bed shoved into the corner than anything else. There was still a scattering of things that were undeniably Frankie in the room: a pile of old boots with holes in the canvas, a greasy looking toolbox, a poster for the Brooklyn Nets with players that looked like they had wandered out of the 90s. You didn’t know much about basketball but decided to at least keep an eye on when the Nets lost so you could rag on Frankie about it.

You grabbed your bags, assessing what Manny had grabbed. God, he’s good, you thought, realising he had packed you everything you needed. You dressed and grabbed your phone, breathing a sigh of relief when it was free of messages from Kurt. You typed out a quick message to Manny.

You are truly the most amazing friend anyone can ask for <3 thanks for packing my stuff.

Then, after a few moments, you sent one to Sara.

I broke up with Kurt, should I be sadder about it?

It was 7 in the morning, but within a minute your phone was buzzing with a call from her.

“Tell me you’re not lying to me,” her voice was hushed. You could hear her moving, a door clicking shut.

“I’m not lying. It’s done.” You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. “It was a fucking nightmare to do though.”

“Spill, what happened? Are you okay?” Sara’s voice was louder now. You gave her the rundown of everything that had happened, from the lunchtime confession to the actual breakup to how you were now sleeping in Frankie’s spare room.

“Wait – Frankie? Benny’s friend?”

“Are you still with Benny?” This was different: Sara had a policy of one night only – anything more and she claimed they’d fall in love with her.

“Of course, he has a massive dick. But back to you missy, you’re staying with Frankie?”

You sighed. “Yeah, just until I get the keys to my new place.”

“Are you gonna fuck him?” Sara sounded hopeful.

“Oh, my god! No!”

“Aw, c’mon, rebound sex is good for the soul.”

“Maybe with strangers in seedy bars who have half a chance of giving me the clap. Not with someone I-”

“-Have a huge thing for. Please, I saw it the moment you spotted him at fight night. You’re so hung up on this guy and Benny says-”

“This conversation is over, it’s my bedtime. I love you and you’re wrong.” You hung up quickly, cheeks burning with the lie. Did you want to have sex with Frankie? Desperately. At the most inappropriate of times, like when you heard the rumble of his voice through the window at work, like when you caught a glimpse of his beautiful, unique side profile, like when you were alone and allowed your thoughts to wander to what could be under his jeans.

You sighed, frustrated with yourself and rolled onto your side. If you were braver, more sure that his attraction matched yours, you would have gone to his room, crawled into bed beside him, let whatever was meant to be, be. But right now, you weren’t brave. You felt like you had used up all your courage quota for the year in a single day, which was a ridiculous sentiment.

So instead of going to Frankie’s room, like the pulsing in your underwear desperately wanted you to, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

[reversecreek]

struts onto the dash carrying this deliriously wriggling little elf in my arms like a swaddled bebe......... they’re genuinely my oldest muse of all time i think i created them when i was like. 13 possibly. n i haven’t written them in Years but. i’m literally so excited to jst vibrating w muse. smiles at u all demurely..... they have risen. u can find their pinterest here n their playlist here.

* alana champion, nonbinary + they/them | you know nyla palmer, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 6669 (i don’t know if you know) by neon indian like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole a two headed doll of a prairie girl with stitched on rabbit ears and butterfly wings, befriending shadow puppets & finding god with your eyes open underwater in a public pool you broke into thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 2nd, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

was born in georgiaaaa georgiaaaa (phoebe bridgers voice holds my bang...) to a vry honest hard working man named george (omgggg he’s called GEORGE and he’s from GEORGIA? ahaaaaa fuckk ur jestinggg) nd a woman who did her best named pamela..... george worked on a construction site n pamela was a pharmacist..... their house was this small rickety white thing with a wrap around porch n a very rabid overgrown garden tht kind of looked like the earth ws trying to reclaim it bc nobody ever hd the time or motivation to mow the lawn.... there ws literally a piece of fold out furniture just entirely submerged by weeds n foliage

nyla ws always closest w their dad george..... he hd this way of looking at the world tht was seeing the best in all of it.... he took them on long walks where he talked abt how u have to respect the trees bc they’re breathing fr us n we’re breathing fr them..... he hd a strange whimsical sense of humour n a gnome alter ego called grundlebolt who always tickled them..... in a way this closeness created a distance between nyla n their mother but not so much that it ws rly a problem. just enough tht nyla sometimes waited until their mother ws out of eye n ear shot to tell their dad they loved him bc they didn’t wna make her sad >_>

(mental health, death & grief tw) pamela always struggled w her mental health but george ws great n understanding n knew how to help her thru this... nyla didn’t get it too greatly at a very young age bt they knew their mum got “the sads” sometimes (how their dad wld explain tht she needed to lay down in the quiet for a while or why she’d stood at the stove n let the dinner burn until the smoke detector went off without doing anything abt it). when nyla was 14 they got home one day to a police car in the driveway n came prancing in exuberantly as they always did. immediately hugged the legs of an officer bc this is hw they wld greet everyone they ever met. they only realised something was wrong when they let go n saw their mum sat at the table crying. essentially there ws an accident at the construction site george worked at n :/ yeah. 

(jst mental health & grief tw now) this rly had an intense ripple effect on everyone tbh. pamela’s mental health deteriorated quite a lot without george there as her rock n nyla sort of had to step in as best they cld but it was....... hard. some days she ws better bt some days nyla had to sit her in the bath n stroke a wet sponge over her back bc they didn’t know how else to calm her down. nyla always had a very overactive imagination which george encouraged bt it ws like. losing him rly opened a window in nyla’s head n all rationality went floating out of it. their dreams seemed more real than being awake. fantasy wasn’t jst the way they coped bt it was the way they thought n the way they saw. everything on earth was alive. the trees n the clouds n the wall with a brick missing at the bottom of her road n especially their dad. their dad was alive in everything in nyla’s head. the sun shining extra bright in the morning was george. ponds were a veil they could dunk her head under and find george waiting on the other side. reality rly just pulled the plug n said bye tbh n they were ok w that <3

(abuse implied tw) their mum remarried too fast to a man named stephen n it was jst not a good arrangement. he was Not a nice man. i won’t go into this but home wasn’t a nice place for nyla any more n after a couple of yrs stephen wound up asking them to leave n their mum said nothing to contradict tht. there’s more to this bt long story short nyla left <3

(drugs tw) they couch surfed fr a while before settling living w their best friend. they got up to like... all sorts of trouble n grew up far too fast. nyla’s lack of sense n realism hd a habit of getting them into some sticky situations n these few yrs were a rollercoaster where they got by on the skin of their teeth. when they think of high skl they think of gravel and skinned knees and sucking sherbet dunkers to ignore the taste of pennies in ur mouth and getting lost in the woods a lot bc they’d take FAR too many drugs n be lead astray having conversations with kind trees whose branches held their hands

(drug mention) got by on odd jobs like making candles n selling them at market stalls. leaf blowing at cemeteries. face painting fr children’s parties (where they were blatantly high). random stuff. all over the place. in this time them n their best friend also hd a sugar daddy named tony who always wore very impressive colour block suits n mink stoles n jewelled fedoras n hd a swanky apartment w marble floors. rly just. surreal. lots of strange stories frm this time.

things kind of blew up in their friendship group n they fell out w their best friend raya bc she slept w this guy aj who nyla hd been madly in love w for yrs.... he was a Stinker n honestly so ws their best friend so good riddance i say bt obviously it felt like having their entire world flipped upside dwn fr nyla.... they split after this came out bc they just did Not want to b around these ppl any more n they decided to leave w this guy frm a band they barely knew tht much save fr a one night stand to tour w them..... this ws another whirlwind. jst chock full of them. it ws similar to being on a teacup ride at a carnival n spinning round n round n only knowing u were surrounded by lots of lights. tht’s how they’d best describe their time on tour.

SO in terms of them coming to irving 8 months ago they came w the band.... they honestly did pretty well on tour n wound up renting a big beach house on dorado as a kind of “retreat” sort of place fr them to shack up in while they worked on writing and recording their first big studio album (they gt signed w a label so it’s all vry exciting stuff). nyla among like 3 others were allowed to stay w them too bc they hd a lot of fun on tour. literally jst. taken on as professional groupies essentially. nyla loved it bc they’d never seen the ocean n when they first got there they jst threw off all their clothes n ran straight into the water. it was 3pm on a tuesday afternoon. they got arrested fr public indecency n didn’t get why bc they were like but i just wanted to hug the ocean u silly little oinker? i picture the beach house as like. the loudest one on dorado.... comes alive like a jungle at night..... they r probably bad neighbours. anyway. onto personality puts hand on hip.

PERSONALITY:

sets out patio furniture on someone else’s lawn n jst takes a seat n leans back like ahhhhh vat a nice day to be alive ya! (swedish accent suddenly bc they think it’s fun). they come out n start yelling n they’re jst so confused they’re like hey wat’s the big idea hey wat’s go on here why u angies why this happen?

likes drawing imaginary veins over their arms in all different colour blue pens in a sudden fit of hyperfixation n then forgets all abt it n goes out like tht n scares several townsfolk bt they’re oblivious they’re jst in her own world loving life already onto the next fixation. has many many different fads like this. one day will jst start snipping up a bunch of magazines bc they’re like EYES ARE COOL N THEY SEE EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P n they’ll stick a bunch of them over their wall n then forget they was doing that n leap onto the next. quite a pattern. bt they love the vein thing a lot it makes them feel like a walking planetarium like they have their own constellations

sometimes jst doesn’t make sense. they’re honestly kind of strange. pops up in places like they suddenly materialised there n it’s like how did u get there where have u been when were u last seen are u ok. has the energy of an ancient deity frm deep in a mountain cave n an ambiguous forest sprite all at once..... talks shit honestly. abt anything n everything. sometimes outrageous. sometimes plain incoherent. like what are u talking about? i dnt kno. even i dnt kno sometimes.

luvs stick n pokes will let anyone tattoo whatever they want on them for the price of a gummy bear kindly placed onto their tongue n swallowed whole

has this obsession w being underwater w their eyes open luvs it. calls it their tadpole time. runs baths just to lie there blinking looking around n drifting her arms. best friends w the bottom of any local swimming pool n hs probably given it a quick kiss so it knows they’re bff’s n then got sick bc there’s sm germs in a public pool. says the kgb probably poisoned their oatmeal n r finally here to deliver on their promise n THAT’S why they got sick unrelated to the pool incident. what promise? noone knows.

unclear if they believe what they say or if they jst has a very expanded sense of humour where they nvr let on if they’re joking.... lines r blurred a lot..... 

loves excitedly shouting things. sometimes just screams at the sky bc they say it’s good to let the creatures in ur belly fly out every once in a while otherwise their wings get sore.

(drugs tw) still does an excessive amt of hallucinogens n it kind of shows. very bad fr their brain bt we’re going to ignore it.

dresses fun n strange n eccentric n careless. loves to experiment. does nt care abt what’s considered to be societally appropriate. living in their own world.

sleeps around a lot... jst doesn’t rly see sex as a big deal.... very free w themselves in that way..... sometimes greets their friends w a kiss on the lips they’re like awww :) kisses <3 when they run into them in the middle of the cereal aisle n then pulls away n suddenly breaks into a box tht has a free toy in it bc it’s a banana with googly eyes n that’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! n isn’t he so HANDSOME????? enchante indeed my good sir ;)... gives the toy a kiss too.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

other groupies of the band: self explanatory a little.... i dnt have a name for the band yet bt all can b worked out..... i picture them as kind of. not that nice but like. there for a good time........ rock genre.... bit chaotic...... to say the least........ they dnt have to have come there w the band like nyla n the others they cld have been adopted in their time there.... whoever wld b wild n down fr a good time <3

chaotic trash goblin friends: idk what this title rly means it just came to me in a vision....... jst ppl tht r rly kind of off the rails n don’t care abt anything...... they r who nyla tends to mesh very well w......... they rly r living in their own world n by their own rules n they like ppl who do this too <3 inevitably they get up to no good n party far too much...... cld be angst to this if they enable each other’s bad habits...... world’s our oyster. opens my office door. let’s talk abt it.

nyla set up camp on their front lawn: maybe jst w a fold out chair. maybe w a literal pop up tent w someone else too. genuinely so bizarre of them bt that’s what we’re dealing with. they poke their head into the tent n nyla’s lying down crunching on a cracker crumbs over their tits n they just hold it out to them nt even fully consumed n are like hey polly want a cracker? :)

they responded to her craigslist ad: they posted one saying they cld cleanse their house of demonic energy bc they’re an all seeing eye in touch w the spirits. this is a lie. they came n waved sage around n did a little dance as they did it w bird sounds playing on a special cd they brought fr the occasion (had weird indistinct doodles over the case it ws brought in) n then ws like OOH! scary.... n jumped at something in the hall. they go in thinking maybe they’ve seen a ghost bt they just were startled by their own reflection in a mirror n is like. scary mirror placement...... might wna reconsider that........ they charge them merely 10 dollars fr their time n is like this was so fun we shd do it again some time :) also i think u have mould on ur bathroom tile! vanishes. they dnt recall them ever going to the bathroom.

came knocking asking for items for a garage sale: yes. u heard that right. they’re asking for ur muses things to set up their own garage sale. selling items that do not belong to them. they think this is a genius business strategy n don’t understand why ppl think this is so strange or why they cant just ask ppl to donate them things to sell bc hey they’re an entrepreneur? they even had a pencil behind their ear when they knocked on the door so why aren’t ppl taking their business seriously? probably got distracted several times trying to explain their pitch n chattered abt random other things instead.

honestly anything... fwbs... flings... good influence... someone who cnt stand the fact they’re barely coherent.... someone they stopped on the street one day n asked for their opinion on water beds.... we cn do literally anything. fling ur chara my way n we can talk.

[rosemakh]

The Bad Game

[Blurb: An innocent game of mini-golf takes a sinister turn when a family friend demands that Naomi make good on her bet. This deep betrayal leads to an impossible choice.]

[Author’s note: I wrote this in 2020. It’s loosely based on true events, as recounted by a friend of mine. This story is a tragic family drama. It deals with emotional abuse, manipulation, substance abuse, and other things that might trigger some readers (like most of my stories!)]

The driving lesson was over, so Naomi parked the old van and turned off the ignition.

"That was good, sweetie," Pastor Rob congratulated her from the passenger's seat, "You'll be able to get your license soon, for sure!"

Naomi shook her head and smiled sheepishly, "Maybe in a month."

They climbed out of the vehicle to stretch their legs and switch seats. Naomi hopped in and fastened her seat belt while Rob slid the driver's seat back. She giggled at some birds squabbling in the grass as he lowered his weighty girth into the van.

"How about some mini-golf?" He said, rather suddenly.

Naomi liked the game but she was tired. She'd been driving all morning and still had a pile of chores to do at home. She was also tired of being under the pastor's leering gaze. Spending the rest of the day with him -- followed by a Sunday of volunteering at his tiny church -- wasn't her idea of fun but he'd been kind enough to give her driving lessons when nobody else would. She was grateful to him, so she agreed to go.

On the way to the mini-golf park, Rob said, "How about a bet, this time?"

They'd played before but never with a wager. It seemed a little strange to Naomi, so she asked, "Like what?"

Rob kept his eyes on the road, "We'll play one round. If you win, I'll do any one thing you want and if I win, you'll do any one thing I want."

Coming from any other man, this kind of proposal would have alarmed her. But this man was like a grandfather to her. They'd known each other for years. He helped her family. He was goofy, humble, and generous. She trusted him.

She looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, okay! You'll probably just force me to go to lunch with you again or somethin', right?"

They both laughed.

They drove the rest of the way in silence with Elvis Presley crooning on the radio.

***

Naomi was usually pretty good at mini-golf but that day, she missed every shot. She almost felt as if an unseen force was affecting her game. Rob, on the other hand, was on a roll, banking his bright blue golf ball around plastic gnomes as if by magic and landing holes-in-one at both the lighthouse and crocodile lake. In dozens of games, she'd never seen him play so well and she'd never played so poorly.

As the game progressed, it became clear that she would lose the bet. A faint foreboding bloomed within her. She pushed it down and continued playing but by the end of the game, she'd lost by a huge margin. While they turned in their rented putters and balls, then made their way back to the van, Rob's face grew progressively pinched and dark.

Naomi sat in the front passenger's seat and fastened her seat belt. The edge seemed unusually sharp, digging into her neck as if trying to cut her. The earlier sense of foreboding bloomed again.

Rob yanked his door open, squeezed behind the wheel, mopped his sweaty forehead with one of his tree-trunk arms, and backed out of the parking space. A few feet ahead, a small gaggle of giggling women were crossing the lane. Rob, mouth gaping and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets, moved his head to openly gawk at them in their tiny shorts and tank tops. Naomi was used to him doing that but, for some reason, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the car door. She watched his lecherous behavior out of the corner of her eye. He didn't detach his eyes from the ladies' bodies until they'd all piled into their car.

***

Rob pulled out onto the highway and stopped at a red traffic light. He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead for a moment. A dangerous mood emanated from him.

Without looking at her, he grunted, "If I was the Mafia, you'd be in a lot of trouble right now."

Over the years, she'd seen him behave erratically. Sometimes his sermons would devolve into tales of bloody warfare, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. She knew the man had demons to fight but now it seemed he was about to use one on her. To prevent upsetting him, she didn't speak, but merely pressed herself hard against the door and looked away as the van accelerated.

He took a deep breath as if preparing to make an important announcement.

"Naomi," he said, "God showed me something last night. I was riding my bicycle like I do every night, and I looked up and saw you in the moon."

He sounded awestruck as if he'd witnessed a miracle.

"You were floating in the big full moon, wearing the most beautiful silver dress and slippers. Your hair was blowing all around you. You looked like an angel, just for me. I watched you and you smiled so sweetly, with so much love. And you reached your hands out to me and your dress blew and you were so beautiful. You stayed with me like that until I got back home."

Naomi couldn't think of anything to say. She continued looking out the window and prayed to God for safety.

When Rob parked in his driveway, Naomi had to will herself to move. She peeled herself from the door and opened it carefully. She wanted to run next door and call the police but slowly followed him into the big house, instead.

"Is your wife home?" She managed to ask as he swung the front door open.

"She's at Dorothy's piano recital at the college. They'll be gone for hours."

He led her through the cozy living room, past wholesome family pictures and walls filled with Christian crosses. Finely-crafted angel figurines looked on from shelves and tabletops as they passed. A desk in the corner housed a huge Bible, its pages edged with gold.

Rob positioned one dining chair so that it faced toward the backyard garden, then motioned for her to enter the tiny dining room and sit. She could see his wife's award-winning roses through the sliding glass door. Their yard was carpeted with soft, well-manicured grass. A set of cute lawn furniture sat on one side of the deck, overlooking a small swimming pool.

The dining chair didn't have arms, so Naomi awkwardly placed her hands in her lap. Rob suddenly stood in front of her, looming over her and blocking out the sun like a massive obelisk. To avoid his eyes, she stared at her hands.

His voice sounded above her, "I know you're a woman of God, so you'll honor your vow."

Barely a few inches in front of her, he knelt and pulled a ring box from his pants pocket. She stared at the box, praying it wasn't what she suspected. But it was. With bloated, hairy fingers, he flipped the top open to reveal a simple wedding ring. The gold-colored ring was etched with a diamond pattern to make it look like a normal ring but Naomi understood. Feeling as if she was in imminent danger, Naomi clenched her knees together tightly and thanked God she'd decided to wear jeans instead of a skirt.

He fixed his veiny bug eyes on her, "My sweetie, I've wanted to marry you since we first met when you were 14. These four years have been the happiest of my life. I know you feel the same way. God has shown me that you do."

Naomi tried rationalizing with him, "But you're already married. How will that work?"

He leaned toward her and his big belly pressed against her shins. He looked into her face like a lying boy that desperately wanted to be believed, "I've told you about that. It's basically an arranged marriage. I was 35 and our families put us together. We never loved each other."

"But it's a sin to violate your marriage vows. Besides, I don't feel that way about you, Pastor."

"But I know you do, sweetie," he nodded his head repeatedly, "God told me."

She shook her head furiously, "No!"

"It's okay, sweetie. Don't be afraid."

His fat belly pressed harder against her shins. The fleshy sensation made her feel sick, "You're old enough to be my father. Your daughter's older than me! It wouldn't work, I'm tellin' you!"

He continued, searching for ways to convince her, "And--and I know you don't want children so I got a vasectomy so you don't have to worry about that."

"Oh, God!" Naomi couldn't hold herself together anymore. Terrified, all she could do was tuck her head into her shoulder and sob.

"Sweetie--" He briefly touched her hand.

As if she'd been burned, Naomi drew her hands up to her chest.

He craned his blubbery neck to look into her face, "What's the matter, sweetie? Everything's okay. Haven't I proved that I care about you?"

He put one massive hand on her knee. Instinctively, she gasped and clenched her knees together tighter. She looked at the ceiling, gulping back sobs and biting her lip.

He placed the other hand on her lap, still holding the ring box, "Haven't I helped your family for the past four years. With your mom not working, what would you guys have done without me?"

She managed to choke out, "I appreciate everything you've done for us--" between sobs but couldn't continue.

"Oh, sweetie," His voice was tender as if speaking to a lover, "Don't cry. I know it's a big change," He waited a few moments for her to calm down but she was far too upset, "You're overwhelmed, my love. I'm sorry. I'll take you home now. Let's talk about this tomorrow after church."

Relieved to have a way out of the situation, she nodded shakily, "Tomorrow."

***

She'd managed to pull herself together and look somewhat normal by the time he pulled into her family's driveway. She scrambled out as soon as the van stopped.

Before she closed the door, he said, "I'll pick you up for church tomorrow, sweetie," and blew her a kiss.

She shut the door and willed her shaky legs to carry her up the cracked concrete walkway and into her family's shabby home.

She stepped into the living room in its usual state: Toys and dirty clothes littered the floor; Bowls of half-eaten cereal sat in small collections upon the tables; A sticky spill had congealed under the coffee table, next to the overturned cup that once held it.

She called to her young sisters, "Nancy, Nellie! Come clean up after yourselves, please!"

Nancy, 12, and Nellie, 5, stalked out of their room with mock annoyance. They glared at Naomi, stuck out their tongues, then collapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Cut it out, silly girls," Naomi said as she walked to the kitchen.

Their mother staggered out of the master bedroom and down the hall. She walked past Naomi without a word, opened the cabinet above the sink, and retrieved a large bottle of sleeping pills.

"Hi, Mom," Naomi said gently.

Her mother merely glanced at her, then opened the bottle. She moved almost robotically as if the effort of moving required all of her concentration and energy. She dropped three pills into her hand and swallowed them with a cold cup of coffee that was sitting on the counter.

"Are you okay, mom?" Naomi asked.

Naomi's mother turned to face her, "Never," and looked her up and down, "Look at you. You're so lucky. You don't have three mouths to feed."

Naomi stayed stone-faced and silent. Her mother said this often. The first time it happened, Naomi had made the mistake of talking back. She refused to make that mistake again.

With a surprising amount of force, her mother threw the open pill bottle against the sink's backsplash. Cloud-blue pills erupted from the bottle and fell haphazardly into the dirty dishes in the sink. A few landed in water and fizzed, creating bubbling islands of blue foam.

"I'm goin' to bed," her mother grunted.

Nellie, the youngest, peeked her head around the kitchen wall and held her toy bunny to her chin, "But Momma, you were in bed all day."

Their mother bent down and stroked Nellie's chubby face with a tenderness Naomi had not received from her in years, "Momma's tired, baby. Mommies get tired."

She stood up and snapped at Naomi, "Clean this place up!" then disappeared down the hall.

After their mother closed her door, Nancy strutted in and put a small pile of dirty cereal bowls on the kitchen table, "Where have you been all day, by the way? We've been stuck here with Mom and you've been out havin' fun!"

Naomi placed the bowls in the sink, "Believe me, nobody in this family is havin' fun."

Nancy took hold of her younger sister's hand, "Come on, Nellie, let's watch a movie while we wait for Naomi's crappy dinner."

"I like her crappy dinners," Nellie replied as they climbed onto the sofa.

"Oh, shut up, Nellie."

Overhearing the exchange from the kitchen, Naomi chuckled.

While preparing dinner, Naomi prayed for guidance. The thought of seeing Rob again made her feel sick, so she leaned over the sink for a few moments until the nausea subsided. Her mind raced with possibilities and none of them were good. If they stopped attending his church, she'd have to get a job. But she was just about to enter her last year of high school. If she quit school to work full-time, they'd probably never get out of poverty. On the other hand, if she stayed in high school and worked part-time, her sisters wouldn't have anyone to take care of them. Their mother was in no state to look after anybody and the girls were too young to take care of themselves all the time. She watched the pasta boiling on the stove. It roiled and raged like the thoughts in her head.

By the time dinner was ready, she had decided to turn him down and leave his church. She had no plan beyond that but she continued to pray and search for a solution.

***

Rob pulled into the driveway bright and early on Sunday morning. It was the sisters' responsibility to set up the church room in Rob's rundown beachside inn, so they had to get there before everyone else.

"Howdy-ho, kidderoos!" Rob greeted the girls as they headed towards the van.

Naomi checked to make sure the top button of her high-collar dress was done up and raised her hem slightly to keep it from dragging through the dew-covered grass. She picked up Nellie and strapped her into the front passenger's seat, then climbed into the farthest row of seats in the back.

Rob was watching in the rearview mirror, "You can sit up here with me, Naomi!"

"Nuh-uh! She said I can, Mr. Rob!" Nellie protested.

Beaming, Nancy spread her drawing books and art supplies across the middle row of seats and said proudly, "Oh, Yeah! So roomy! This must be what it's like not havin' any sisters! We should sit this way all the time."

"Well, that settles that," Naomi said as she pulled the van's sliding door shut.

He drove through the neighborhood slowly, glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds, "Are you sure you don't want to sit up front, Naomi? Sitting next to the driver is great driving practice."

Naomi didn't take her eyes off her book, "No thank you. I promised Nellie she could sit there."

"What if you drive, instead, and I sit next to you?"

Nancy piped up, "No way. I don't wanna die today!"

All four of them burst into laughter.

Rob dropped the subject but repeatedly flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror during the 30-minute trip. Eventually, Naomi placed her backpack in her lap in an attempt to hide her chest from his searing glances.

***

The ramshackle inn was a place of refuge where vagabonds and penny-pinching tourists could enjoy a room on the beach for next-to-nothing. Rob did all the repairs himself but, unlike Jesus, he wasn't much of a carpenter. The floors were lumpy, sagging, and did nothing to muffle the sounds of footsteps. The paint was flaking in various places both inside and outside the building, and the bare, wooden staircases wobbled and creaked. It was a humble place for humble people.

Naomi and her sisters ascended the stairs into the common room and got to work converting the tiny space into a functioning chapel.

***

That Sunday's service was no different from any other. Pastor Rob led with a spirited, yet incoherent, opening message, which seemed to be nothing more than a collection of random Bible quotes from a desktop calendar. After the opening, he jumped straight into an equally spirited sermon about men and women and all the sex passages in the Bible. Although he didn't look at her, Naomi knew who he'd written that sermon for.

He spoke with fire and the attendees responded in kind, yelling "Preach!" and "Amen, brother!" at random intervals.

Two young women came out of an adjoining room and sat together on one side of the small space. They were dressed in tiny jean shorts and string bikini tops. Pastor Rob seemed unable to keep himself from glancing at them every two seconds to ogle their exposed flesh.

After the service, the pastor mingled with the attendees. None of the smiling people shaking Rob's hand were aware of Saturday's events and no one -- maybe not even the man himself -- knew what he was going to do when he got Naomi alone again. The spongy floor shook with each of Rob's massive steps as he traveled through the cheerful crowd. Naomi felt the vibrations in her core, like a war drum signaling impending doom.

***

Just after Noon, he pulled the van up to the girls' house. Nancy and Nellie got out and said their goodbyes.

Naomi made her way to the front passenger seat.

"We're off to do more driving lessons!" Rob explained to the younger girls.

He waited until the sisters were safely inside the house, then drove to a nearby playground. He pulled into an unpaved parking space facing the park, where some families were enjoying the mild weather and fresh air. Naomi was grateful to have other people around.

The pastor turned off the van and gripped the steering wheel so hard his pudgy knuckles turned white. They both stared silently into the park for a while.

Suddenly, without looking at her, he asked, "Are you playing with me?" and continued staring ahead, awaiting her answer.

Naomi gathered her courage and calmly replied, "No."

She looked at him. A sick red color was creeping up his neck. She had to get this over quickly, "I thought about it and I'm sorry but I don't feel that way about you. You're like a grandfather to me."

He growled a reply through clenched teeth, "How could you say that?" And looked at her from the corner of his eye, "You've been flirting with me for years."

Naomi couldn't believe he was the same man who'd been laughing it up on the beach just an hour ago, "What?!"

He unclenched his jaw but the edge in his voice remained, "We've played tag on the beach--"

"Only with my sisters!"

"We kissed in the back seat of this van."

Naomi scoffed, trying to hide her panic, "I got back there with you because you asked. I didn't know you were goin' to kiss me!"

Rob finally looked at her and erupted, "Why else would I ask you to join me in a back seat!"

She had accidentally sent him into a rage, possibly putting herself in physical danger, but she could no longer control her actions. The deep feelings of betrayal, disgust, and fear were too overwhelming.

She yelled in his face, "Why would you think I wanted to kiss you?"

Rob immediately lowered his voice -- a so-called psychological tactic he loved to use when things got heated, "You told me you were saving yourself for marriage."

Naomi yelled again, "I told you that as my pastor!"

He spoke slowly, "You also told me you felt uncomfortable about your strong sexual desires."

"I thought I could confide in you!"

He removed his hands from the steering wheel and turned his body toward her. Looking deep into her eyes, he spoke gently, "I know you're a godly woman. With me, you won't have to worry about anything. I promise I'll never hurt you. You can explore your desires with me safely. No diseases. No pregnancy. And I'll take care of you, your mom, and your sisters."

Naomi couldn't believe what she was hearing, "You're tryin' to bribe me with my family?"

"It'll be a sacred union."

"You're already married, Rob!"

"It's okay," He spoke to her as if talking to an upset child, "We'll keep it a secret. Nobody has to get hurt. God's chosen few have always been misunderstood. We both know nobody will understand our love."

She screamed at the top of her lungs, "We don't have a love! How could you? I trusted you!" She smashed her fist against the dashboard, "You and no one else! And you'd do this to me? Were you doin' this all along?"

Rob maintained a steady, soothing tone, "I didn't do anything. It's God's plan, my love."

"SHUT UP!"

Naomi's hands were shaking so badly, she barely managed to undo her seat belt. She reached for the car door handle.

Rob raised his voice slightly and scolded her, "You promised me! You're not a liar!"

Her anger spent, tears ran down Naomi's cheeks as she looked him straight in his eyes.

Her voice shook as she said, "I think Jesus will forgive me for this one."

She shoved the door open, got out, then slammed it shut with a frustrated roar. Startled people in the park, who'd heard them yelling, stared at her. Avoiding their gazes, she angrily walked away.

She'd traveled several feet before Rob finished hauling his heft out of the vehicle. He called to her, "Did you buy your sisters' school supplies yet?"

She stopped on the spot.

"Or your mom's medicine?"

She lowered her head, tears cascading down her face. Her entire body shook as she clenched and unclenched her fists. A swarm of dark possibilities swirled in her mind.

A child's scream and laughter yanked her back into reality. Instinctively, she looked in the direction of the sound. The squealing toddler was being pushed on a swing by his smiling dad. Mom looked on, laughing loudly.

Naomi stared at the happy family. Memories of carefree days floated up from the depths of her mind. She could feel Rob's eyes on her.

Without looking at him, she walked back to the van, threw herself into the seat, slammed the door, and waited. After a moment, Rob squeezed behind the steering wheel, watching her. Without a glance or a word, she pulled the musty seat belt across her body and fastened it with a heavy click. It pressed against her chest and lap, pinning her to the seat. She folded her hands in her lap in a failed attempt to keep them from shaking.

She stared at the horizon, blinking away hot tears and taking measured breaths. Aware of Rob's gaze, she pressed against the car seat and bit her lip hard. Her body shook with adrenaline and terror.

Rob continued to stare at her as he started the van. He seemed to be savoring the moment as he raked his hungry eyes up and down her body.

***

The pastor sat the last grocery bag on the kitchen table.

He checked to make sure nobody else was around, then pulled Naomi close for a quick kiss on the lips, "See you Saturday, my love."

He headed out the door. She bent over the sink and washed her mouth out with dish soap.

She dried her face as Nancy came around the corner.

"Was that Pastor Rob?"

Naomi nodded.

A mischievous smile crept across Nancy's face, "Gee, I'm sure glad you two didn't die in your drivin' lesson!"

Naomi was too numb to even pretend to laugh but she forced herself to smile as sweetly as she could at her silly little sister, "That was funny, Nancy."

"Duh!"

Naomi pulled an ice cream cake from one of the grocery bags, "Look what I've got."

Nellie appeared in the doorway, curious. Naomi knelt so the kids could get a better look.

Nancy gasped, "Wow! Are we celebratin' somethin'?"

Naomi forced a warm smile for her sisters, "Yes. We're celebratin' how much I love you."

Just out of sight, their mother muttered, "Bring me some o' that to my room, Nancy," then shuffled back down the hall.

"Oh, Momma likes it, too!" Nellie said, "Thanks, Naomi!"

Nancy pulled a plate from the dish rack, "Yeah, I guess you're okay, sometimes."

At that, the three of them stuck their tongues out at each other playfully.

Naomi turned and placed the ice cream cake on the kitchen table. The golden ring on her left middle finger caught Nellie's eye.

Nellie pulled Naomi's hand to her own face so she could get a better look, "That ring's fancy! I like the diamond shapes. Did it cost a lot?"

Naomi briefly flashed a smile, "Yes, it cost me a whole lot."

"I won't tell, but Momma might get mad if she finds out."

Naomi gently pulled her hand free and stroked her precious little sister's hair, "I think you're right, honey. I bet she would."

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 29 of 26

Title: The House in the Cerulean Sea (2020)

Author: TJ Klune

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Comedy, Romance, Found Family, LGBT Protagonist, Third-Person 

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 10/13/2020

Date Finished: 10/18/2020

Linus Baker, a forty-year-old caseworker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY), lives a solitary and mundane life. But when he’s summoned by Extremely Upper Management and given a top-secret case, everything changes. Linus is sent to the classified Marsyas Island and tasked with investigating an orphanage housing six dangerous magical children-- including the Antichrist. He is to live among the residents for one month, record his observations, and report back to the organization. No more, no less. 

The master of the house, Arthur Parnassus, is a mysterious and enigmatic man. But Linus soon learns that Arthur will do anything to protect his wards. As Linus grows closer to Arthur and the children, a secret from the past and prejudice of the present threaten to destroy the orphanage and their way of life. Linus must decide if he can abandon the world he knows in order to help the ones that need it the most. 

"Fire and ash!” Lucy bellowed as he paced back and forth. “Death and destruction! I, the harbinger of calamity will bring pestilence and plague to the people of this world. The blood of the innocents will sustain me, and you will all fall to your knees in benediction as I am your god.” 

He bowed. 

The children and Mr. Parnassus clapped politely. Theodore chirped and spun in a circle. 

Linus gaped. 

“That was a lovely story, Lucy,” Mr. Parnassus said. “I especially liked your use of metaphors. Keep in mind that pestilence and plague are technically the same thing, so it did get a little repetitious at the end, but other than that, quite impressive. Well done.” 

Minor spoilers and content warning(s) under the cut. 

Content warnings for the book: Semi-detailed discussions of child abuse and trauma. Internalized fatphobia (challenged). Structural discrimination, and hatred/prejudice associated with that, some of it internalized. 

I'm going to have a hard time reviewing this book, because it was so goddamn good I don’t think I’ll do it justice in a few short paragraphs. So here’s the fast version: The House in the Cerulean Sea was a fucking delight to read from the first page. It’s full of genuine humor, magic, and charm, while being just this side of heart-wrenching. Though geared toward adults, it’s the first novel I’ve read in a long time that captures that childlike enthusiasm I used to have when reading a good fantasy book. It takes place in a world with magic (obviously), but it’s 98% character-driven. Both the main plot and the (queer!) romantic subplot are woven together so well that neither feel tacked on or lacking. The found family hit me in the emotions again and again and again. I read books out loud, and I spent the last third of this book struggling because I kept fucking crying and having to take regular breaks before continuing. And then I went through the whole book to find a good quote for this review and ended up fucking crying again. So yeah. 

Ok. Got that off my chest. Usually in these reviews I talk about what I liked and then what didn't work for me or confused me. The good news (?) is I have zero complaints or critiques on this one. So you just get to hear me gushing about it for a while.  

Since this is a character-driven book that’s where I’ll start. Linus Baker, the protagonist, is great. Let me just say I love speculative fiction books starring older characters. At forty, Linus isn’t old, but it feels like the majority of spec fic stars people under thirty. Linus is also a conspicuously ordinary guy; prim and proper to a fault, no magic, oblivious in many ways (including to his own loneliness), but with a hidden sense of justice and protectiveness for people that comes out more and more. His development over the course of the novel and how much he grows to love and care for the other characters is just so good. The writing draws attention to this through repeated phrases and jokes one doesn’t expect to make a comeback (more on that later). Seeing him come out of his shell and stand up for what’s right is cathartic as hell. As a side note, it’s also nice to have a fat protagonist who struggles with his self-image but gets warm affirmation and support from his family and love interest. 

Arthur Parnassus, the deuteragonist and said love interest, is more of an enigma. A lot of his motivation and behavior makes sense once you get his Tragic Backstory (TM), and I think this will be a fun book to reread based on that. I picked up on some of it before the reveal, but not everything. But without spoiling it, I do love seeing an older (mid-forties) father figure who would do literally anything to make sure the children on the island have the care and love they need. Seeing his patient love and acceptance of them tugs my heartstrings. Maybe I’m a bit of a sap. Linus and Arthur’s obvious mutual crush on each other is also really cute, okay. There’s something about older queer people finding love that makes me smile. 

And the children are great too, of course. I really liked each of them and thought they were all unique and interesting. My favorites are probably Lucy the six-year-old Antichrist, Sal the were-Pomeranian (his arc just really hit home for me), and Talia the gnome. They all have such distinct and fun personalities, and seeing them interact is great and often hilarious. I’m not very paternal, but I love seeing children with sad/abusive pasts blossom into their best selves with love, guidance, and support. It’s uh, a little personal. I’d be remiss not to mention Zoe, the resident island sprite, who brings a whole lot of personality and rounds off the group. 

When I say the story is character-driven, I mean it. While a fantasy novel, there’s not any significant violence or action in the story (except for maybe one scene if you squint). The House in the Cerulean Sea is carried by its characters, interactions, and worldbuilding. The humor and inherent charm helps too -- and manages to do so without ever feeling trite. I can’t help but admire that. I was never bored; I honestly enjoyed every page because I liked the characters so much. Not to say there isn’t an overarching conflict with the whole DICOMY thing, but most of the focus is Linus struggling and coming to terms with his discoveries-- about the others and himself, and how he can make a difference on a grand scale. To me that kind of stuff is captivating. And boy does seeing someone find the place they belong get me. As I said, found family is a big thing in this book. 

Aside from that, the writing is just super; it literally had me laughing from the first page. I can’t believe the fucking lemur joke came back at the end, too. But on that subject, I love that this book utilizes recurring jokes and phrases to show Linus’ character development. In particular, “see something, say something” and “don’t you wish you were here?” have VERY specific meanings to Linus at the beginning of the story, and over time transform into the polar opposite. I’m  holding myself back because I don’t want to spoil shit, but if you read it you’ll see what I mean. There’s also a lot of meaningful callbacks to certain dialogue earlier in the story and I eat that kind of stuff up. But even small details, like the early quip about Linus forgetting his umbrella, come back to deliver an emotional gutpunch near the end. So thanks for that, Mr. Klune. 

The book really takes a turn in the second half of the story, which is a tad darker. Avoiding the Actual Spoilers, this is where prejudice and hatred of the outside world become a bigger part of the story. We learn what’s really at stake, and that this wonderful found family in the first half is threatened by a world that hates and fears them. Boy does that shit get emotional REAL quick. Yes the allegory is obvious. No, that’s not a bad thing. Ultimately, The House in the Cerulean Sea becomes a story about love, hope, and change; and boy does that shit strike my gay little heart right where it hurts. 

If you’re looking for a (literal) magical pick-me-up (ignore my comment about crying a whole lot) with INTENSE found family vibes and a side helping of queer mlm romance, dear God read The House in the Cerulean Sea. I don’t think I did it justice in this review; just trust me, it’s real good. My only complaint is that it ends; I want more, damn it! 

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 12

Fig And Ayda Sitting in a Spiky Infernal Nightmare Tree

Welcome back to Fantasy High, where Brennan and Emily are giving the gays everything they want but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, the Bad Kids have just arrived in Arborly which is this ancient, twisty, mysterious forest town with buildings kind of built into the trees in such a way that makes it hard to tell it’s a town at first glance. Anyway, they get to Hollyhill--the family home of Fig’s gnome business-friend--Grover Tillythatch--which is basically this very dope hollowed out tree. At the edge of the forest (maybe a 30 min walk away), there is a place where the trees grow and twist together into an 80 foot high wall, barbed with razor sharp briars and super ominous looking. Très Sleeping Beauty.  

They unlock the gate but then realize they have to do something with the Hangvan. Gorgug thinks there’s a way to, with his Artificer skills, give the Van the availability to shrink, but that’ll be a whole project for later. What we have to deal with now though is the fact that Gilear is caught up in the wheel well of the Van, apple stuck in his mouth like a roast pig. Through a series of insane and very Gilear events (not a teleportation mishap like I initially thought), he ended up stuck there and has been since they woke up. He fully missed Hilariel and this is the first anyone noticed he was missing.The kids help Gilear out and give him a little makeover, courtesy of Adaine’s jacket--very needed because he 100% pissed his pants while jammed up (and way too soon after getting stuck).

Kristen knows that the temple she read about is extremely close to where they are. Adaine does a quick Locate Creature and can tell the elf from her Scry isn’t within the 1000 foot range. Plus, the forest they’re in just looks different.  

Anyway, once they’re in Ragh starts grabbing food. Sandra-Lynn gives Gilear a massage because that dude needs some TLC. Tracker is sticking with Kristen and in a weird headspace over the Galakaya info. And, turns out Ayda didn’t just stay in Leviathan. She teleported with them to see them off so she’s around too. The gang does a little investigation of the house where Riz finds out Grover is abusing his company expense account and Adaine pings a crazy amount of infernal energy from the spooky briar wall. Adaine also senses a strong but old (300 year-ish) aura of druidic magic in Arborly--from the reclamation efforts that took Arborly back from being behind the wall that separates Sylvere from the outside. It’s really the only progress that’s been made and it seems like it took a lot out of whoever did it. One more thing: There is a real gnomish energy around town (similar to the vibe at Gorgug’s place), even though Arborly is supposed to be very wood elf heavy.

Throughout all I’ve been describing, there have been rumblings of maybe throwing a party and Fig invites Ayda who enthusiastically accepts. The adults go to bed in the Van for safety (Sandra-Lynn puts the Hangman in charge while they’re gone) and the teens do what teens do when they have no adult supervision: They wild out. But not in a Golden Gardens “Let’s get tattoos and do drugs” kinda way. In a real, teenager kind of way. In an “I’m making crab nachos because my parents never let me,” kind of way. But that “they” doesn’t include Fig because she is doing the other thing teens do when they have no adult supervision: Sneaking out. Specifically to look at the briar wall. She can hear these faint whispers coming from the wall and Emily manages to get jump scared in a D&D game by Ayda who is suddenly standing next to Fig, having followed her because the party got overwhelming. 

They have a talk which I can and will describe but that needs to be seen in full to really appreciate the intimacy and tenderness but also fumbling awkwardness that’s happening. So while the rest of the Bad Kids are drinking and doing crab-stands and pretending to be shrimp (go with it) Fig tells Ayda that she sometimes does stuff like pretend to be other people and indulge in loud nonsense to cover up negative thoughts, like the ones that come from your dad being shoved in a gem and then getting kidnapped. Ayda can’t understand the disguising as a coping mechanism: “If I were you I wouldn’t want to be anyone else because you are very exceptional.” She then offers to give Fig a better look at the wall and, when Fig accepts, she turns them both invisible and flies them to it. 

Fig, upon watching Ayda do that very dope thing says that there’s no reason for Ayda to think she’s special when she can do cool stuff like that. Ayda, as we already know, thinks Fig is super dope too, both in abilities and personality. Ayda analyzes the briar wall and finds out mostly stuff we already knew--it keeps people from getting in or out, including through magical means like Dimension Door and it’s keyed to powerful devils. When she reaches for the thorns, they grow out to stab her and she flinches back before they can. When Fig does the same, the thorns don’t grow out. And, when she does a less intense Burning Hands, a charred handprint is left behind and the heat and energy travels somewhere else. The aura the wall is giving out doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it probably would someone else. Ayda finds it very cool, as she’s found everything Fig has done. They dip back into heart to heart mode and Ayda reveals something that we already knew from Brennan on the Discord: Ayda is technically about 150 years old due to her Phoenix cycling and she’s been working on building the Compass Points Library across her lifetimes, aided by notes left to herself by her previous incarnations. Fig asks why she would do that instead of just reinventing herself and Ayda says she doesn’t have a lot of self confidence and doesn’t want to make mistakes. Fig throws up in anticipation of saying something sincere, says she thinks Ayda is perfect the way she is, and then--as she is wont to do--skateboards away (successfully and 80 feet down the briar wall with a 22 acrobatics check).

Ayda flies down, compliments her on the sick trick then asks her to sign a binding contract that says she has info that she will give Fig but Fig can’t make any assumptions based on it or judge her. (The cast at this point is losing their minds and has been for the past couple of minutes.) Fig signs it and then Ayda gives her the information which is as follows: “At any waking moment outside of combat that you and I have been together, if you had tried to kiss me on the mouth, it would have been received favorably.” Fig drafts a contract (as a lawyer I’m using that term extremely loosely) that says that if Ayda makes fun of her, Fig will give her a wet willy. Ayda says that it’s more of a threat than a contract and Fig abruptly kisses her and then skateboards away and hides. Ayda doesn’t really have a good frame of reference for how this is supposed to go and Fig is throwing out all sorts of mixed signals but Fig comes out from hiding and apologizes and says that she’s having trouble being vulnerable since she hasn’t really done this as herself before. Ayda asks if they can go again because she thinks she can do better. Ally and Lou howl and cheer and bless the Union. Murph is clapping. Siobhan and Zac are full gone. Fig says that she only wanted to have a party so Ayda would stay longer. Ayda says she only stayed to hang out with Fig. Ayda says this is the best moment of her current life. Fig says she’s going for best, period--past incarnations included. They make out some more until Ayda has to go. Ayda says she needs to go so she can research the Planeshift spell for Fig (for free!). She doesn’t even care about shrinking down the library. Before she leaves, Ayda pulls out one of her feathers and says that if Fig holds it up and says her name, she’ll hear it and be able to come and help. Fig does the same with one of her ear-cuffs but it’s more of a gesture than an actual magical effect (though the cuff is bloody and mark my words, this is exactly the kind of goof that becomes plot relevant later). Fig comes back to the insanity the house has dissolved to and goes to use the hot tub.     

No comment. 

They all eventually go outside to sleep on a mattress, by the Van to get the protection of the Hallow spell. It’s a little glossed over but we learn when Fabian gives Riz Bardic Inspiration to remember to sleep outside that he’s taken a level of bard! In the morning (by which I mean afternoon), they all wake up to see Sandra-Lynn and Gilear speaking to, like, 40 wood-elf rangers. They’re mainly talking to an intense lady who seems to have a pretty high rank and this older looking fox. Fig steps up to speak for the group since they’re there on her invite and the elven woman is instantly wary of her horns, plus the Hangman is right there. She clearly doesn’t trust the infernal. With Guidance from Kristen, she gets a 27 Persuasion which tells her this lady (whose name we learn is Mira) will never like her BUT that’s OK because she’s not in charge. The fox actually outranks her. 

Fig shakes hands with the fox whose name is Nuathra and who is very charmed. The Bad Kids follow suit with the politeness and Nuathra is won over. He fends off Mira’s suspicions and is so chill that Fig decides (after consulting with Adaine) to just tell him they’re going into the nightmare forest. That gets bows pulled on them and Adaine steps in and identifies herself as the elven Oracle and says that they have to do it for prophecy reasons. The elves start whispering and Nuathra, who believes she is who she says she is, asks if she knows about any other high elves who look like her slinking around. Adaine says that yeah, she does, but she’s not working with them. Kristen tries to cut in and it makes Mira super aggro--seems like she doesn’t like beings that are devil adjacent or humans either. She also makes a dismissive comment aimed at high elves in response to Adaine’s statement about morality being complex.

Nuathra tells her to cool her jets and says that things are kinda tense because for the past few months, a high elven woman (Adaine’s mom) showed up, took a room at the Owl and Harp (a gnomish tavern), and hired a local wood elf drunkard named Killian. She kept to herself mostly but did do some business at the local gnomish Tinkerer’s Hall (possibly for spell components). Two nights ago, another high (extremely gassy) elven woman showed up and then they vanished (figuratively) with Killian.

When Tinkerer’s Hall is mentioned, Gorgug cuts in to get more info on that. Nuathra says that there is a gnomish population in Arborly because the Druid who gave their life to reclaim Arborly (Crafty Rootdrinker) was a gnome so now gnomes kind of have protected status. Nuathra starts tearing up a little and we later find out (via Gorgug’s intuition) that Nuathra was their Awakened animal companion (Awakened means you give a plant or animal average human intelligence and the ability to speak a language). Nuathra asks why they want to go into the forest and Gorgug says it’s because the Nightmare King might be coming back. After being horrified to learn that the NK’s crown wasn’t in magical Fort Knox and instead was just in some dude’s desk, Nuathra says that all the town’s resources are at their disposal. He points out the three obvious places to check out: (1) the tavern, (2) the tinkerer’s hall, and (3) a shrine which is a possible entrance to the forest of the NK (the Shrine of Thorns which is just on the edge of the forest--mostly still in the forest--and dedicated to a mysterious goddess).

Adaine asks about the dude in her vision and realizes quickly it’s not Killian. Then, following a comment Fig makes about honesty being the right move and spurred by their out of character knowledge, start poking at Fig for an answer to what’s different about her today. Riz rolls a 28 Investigate and Fig burns 2 luck points and a guidance to beat it with like a 31. Wild. Then they split up like this:

Gorgug, Ragh, and Fabian (with the Hangman) go to the tinkerer’s hall.

Adaine and Riz go to the tavern.

Kristen, Tracker and Fig go to the shrine (ferried by Sandra-Lynn who wants to then scout around on Baxter).       

Gilear makes lunch.              

But before they leave, Adaine Scrys on her mom and sees her, Aelwen, and Killian with a gem embedded in his open and bloody chest (clearly a puppet after the ritual that almost claimed RIz) traveling through a forest so twisted it looks like it’s underground. Adaine clocks some curse scarring on her mom and on a 15 arcana check wonders if the curse her mom got broken by Garthy was actually the Crown’s curse or maybe something the Falinel put on it for security (which could mean that the Curse on the crown is actually the goddess’s sanctum mentioned last ep). Almost immediately, Aelwen dispels the Scry and it ends. Adaine on a 25 Insight realizes that Aelwen didn’t actually sense the Scry. It was like someone told her it was happening and then she reacted to that. Adaine thinks Kalina might be around.         

On a nat 20 Perception check, Kristen sees Kalina’s eyes in the shadows. Riz--and the rest of the group--can’t see her, but she steps out of the shadows. Kalina starts slinging death threats--at the group and Tracker specifically--and Kristen does her classic Kristen thing of staring down a life or death situation with an insane casualness. Kalina says the only reason the gang is still alive is because they haven’t gotten directly in the way of her and what she wants yet. What does she want? Kristen asks. For them to stay out of the f-ing forest. Kalina vanishes. Kristen immediately loses all bravado and makes her friends dog pile her for comfort which they happily do.               

Kristen gives an arguably Inspiring Speech to give everyone 16 temp HP. Riz on a 28 Investigation roll notices that the grass where Kalina was standing isn’t bent. (The background music goes *BWANG* like Brennan planned it). Riz thinks Kalina wasn’t physically there. In fact, she might not have ever been physically there. He remembers that, in the photo, Pok’s sleeve isn’t bent where Kalina is touching him and people who can’t see Kalina don’t see the wrinkled sleeve they way they would if she was just invisible. And she’s not holding a glass in the photo. She’s holding up her hand and pretending she’s holding one. She might not exist physically at all. He thinks that the thing Aelwen and Arianwyn are doing is to give her corporeal form. They also put together than even if Kalina is somehow in their heads, she can’t really by *in* their heads because she keeps asking questions she would know the answers to already if she could read their minds. Kristen wants to chain up Tracker in the Van to keep her safe from Kalina but Tracker puts the kibosh on that with a quickness (revealing things we kinda already knew about their sex life in the process).

Anyway, let’s split up!

Tinkerer’s Hall

The Owlbear group and the Hangman kinda freak out the gnomes who think they’re being mugged or something but Gorgug wins them over with his gnomish last name and cool Solesian gadgets. They find out Killian needed wax to make candles and some basic spell components.

Tavern

The two Bad Kids possibly least equipped to go to the bar go there and try to get access to Adaine’s mom’s room. They pay Arianwyn’s tab (she left abruptly without paying) and bribe the bartender with an amount of money that will for sure get them put on a watchlist, sweating bullets the entire time, but eventually make it up there to the top suite.

The room is blood spattered, full of candle wax and arcane symbols, and there’s an image Adaine knows her mom drew of a robed, skeletal figure, wearing a crown, etched into the wall. Yikes. 

Shrine

Sandra-Lynn drops off the girls. Tracker casts a light spell and then has to step out. It’s like a vampire at the doorway of a church thing. Kristen sees a religious symbol on the wall and an ancient depiction of a woman in a dark robe and cape, holding a book and a broomstick, next to a small dwelling, black cat on her shoulder. 

Fig sees a charred handprint on the briars in the shrine and recognizes it as her own. She casts Burning Hands on her handprint that’s here for some reason and the fire catches and spreads. Brennan has a lot of fun making fire sound effects. A fiery doorway opens and a woman in armor, with horns and skeletal wings (plus flayed skin under the armor from what they can see--except for her face which is intact and beautiful) walks out and asks for Fig. When Fig identifies herself, the woman says she’s Vraz the Mean from the Nine Hells and Fig has been served. As in legally. As in a subpoena. 

Wild. 

Detention

Fig for Using up Two Luck Points Pre-Excursion Into a Doom Forest to Conceal a Crush 

I adore both Fig generally and Fig in this episode specifically but, truly, what a waste of Luck points at the cusp what possibly could be such a dire moment. And she won’t get those back before a long rest. This storyline is going so slowly. I’ve written (as I’m writing this sentence) 48k words worth of Report Cards and it’s been like what? A week? Less than that? She might not get those back for a while.

Now do I wish she’d made a different decision? Absolutely not. Emily, as always, is ride or die for the roleplay and I both love and respect it. 

But I can high-key see this biting her in the ass.  

Honor Roll

Kristen for Holding her Own Against Kalina

I think this marks K-girl’s first appearance on the Honor Roll and in my opinion (mine being the only one that matters I guess since I have no oversight and am Czar of this arbitrary award) she really earned it. First that clutch perception nat 20 to spot her and then having to hold the entire conversation by herself with no backup because she was the only one who could see her. I think this was actually a really good time for her to use her wild downplaying attitude and she was able to keep Kalina occupied for long enough for Riz to gather some of the most interesting pieces of info about Kalina yet. Very clutch.    

Random Thoughts

For a closer look into character/location descriptions from this episode, you can check out @jamiebluewind‘s posts here and here.

“Has your girl ever not delivered?”/”Yes.”/”Multiple times.”/”I mean, it’s always entertaining when you don’t.”

Lou and Siobhan Re the Hangan: “Can it turn into a Gundam?”/”Is it a transformer?”

Shoutout to Brennan for heading off flying Van shenanigans at the pass. That would have been an Immediate Problem. 

“I have never touched my Dad’s butt, nor do I want to.”

Brennan breaking himself during his first Gilear line of the ep. I wonder if he goes into any Gilear sentence knowing where he’s going, or if it’s all freeform improvisational jazz.

I think it’s really interesting that Fig fully loves Gilear but also still calls him Gilear and not Dad. Not deep meta point or anything. I just think it’s an interesting quirk of the character.   

Fig fully intending to eat an obvious death mushroom and every other party member at the same time slapping it out of her hands. 

I think I’ve mentioned on several occasions that I’m not really a shipper. Which isn’t to say I don’t enjoy romantic relationships in media. It’s just that it’s usually pretty clear which relationship the narrative is setting up so I really don’t get the point in basically campaigning for something that’s clearly going to happen (in which case, just enjoy the progression) or campaigning for something that’s clearly not going to happen and then being disappointed. But I gotta say, this Fig and Ayda has been a ride, I think largely because there was really no way to see this was coming when Ayda was introduced. Like, Tracker for instance was clearly introduced with Kristen in mind, down to being the Moon Cleric to her former Sun Cleric. Not only was Ayda not set up as a romanceable NPC, she very easily could have been skipped as even an option for befriending at all. She didn’t really make herself super available for it and it wasn’t even Fig who struck up a friendship with her initially. It was Adaine. And then Adaine got kidnapped which pushed the two resident Adaine stans together and, what do you know? Sparks (and not just from Ayda’s hair). The organic-ness of the relationship really added something that makes it really interesting and special. 

Also, lol that Fig finally found an age appropriate relationship but she’s also technically 150.

“I’m not gonna mend your piss pants.” 

For Adaine, the peak of luxury is access to fluffy robes which, mood.

OK, just to explicitly state my current pet theory that I alluded to last week, it seems pretty darn likely that Kalina is the familiar of the Mystery goddess. I said that cats are the most iconic witch’s familiar and, this ep, we saw the goddess depicted with a black cat. Plus, Brennan casually but very specifically noted that Kalina isn’t a big-cat. She’s like the tabaxi version of a house cat. And we learned that Kalina seems to be intangible which takes away one thing that was a little off for me--it seemed more like she was spreading a virus but the fact that she is intangible and just visible to people who are “infected” makes it seem more like she herself is the virus. AND, we were introduced to the concept of an Awakened, Sentient animal companion this episode which would be a great thing to do if you’re setting up the fact that this witch goddess turned her cat into a full sentient being and then a tabaxi and then a virus.  

Lol at Tracker giving Sandra-Lynn a Shovel Talk re: Jawbone. 

Riz, upon being questioned by Kristen where he got the photo of her for the “Casual” conspiracy wall he’s making: Look, you take pictures you hang them.

I want the Bad Kids to keep the motto of, “Spring Break!” year round. I want them to use it forever. I want them to be in their 30s--well out of school--and run into a deadly situation in the middle of Winter yelling, “I believe in you! Spring Break!” while very, very confused bystanders watch them. That’s really what friendship is about. Confusing the hell out of strangers with your in-jokes. 

Between last week of Fantasy High and this week of CritRole, I think a lot of people just learned what the Hallow spell is. 

“Just by being here we’re stealing. I’m like Robin Hood.”

Hangman: No rules!/Adaine: Some rules!

Guys I was SO concerned that Fig was gonna pull a Fabian and do something Concerning without any party support. So happy she decided to just get her kisses in instead. And then at the end of the ep when the two most chaotic party members were given a hell door that it 1000% seemed like they were gonna jump through but were ust handed legal paperwork instead.  

Figs comment about one of the best parts of friendship being getting to be a “chorus of nonsense” together without regard for what’s being said is so real.

I love the D&D gag of the party members who are not at an intense moment interjecting with whatever nonsense they’re doing. 

Everyone holding their collective breaths and then breaking as Emily succumbs to the urge to Touch a Thing. “You simply must.”

Ayda thinks “Choke on grapes, bitch,” is an excellent threat, and I agree.

Who cares for Ayda when she’s a newborn? Or is she reborn old enough to take care of herself? Also, update: Aguefort even worse dad than initially thought. 

Fig skateboarding away and dropping invisibility so Ayda can see and then later kissing her and Ayda going full visible are such cinematic moments. Well, the second one is at least. The first is just extremely funny. 

“I’m not gonna kiss the shrimp, Kristen. It’s dead, and we killed it.”

“I desperately and only want you to stay. And the only thing I want to do more than stay is do something for you” Why does Brennan keep dropping these raw ass lines casually in his high school D&D game?

“Can I get a help action from the jets of the hot tub?”

One little moment I loved from this ep was Mira being confused by the concept of a rock star and Adaine translating that she’s a bard/troubadour. I also just love the word troubadour. We shouldn’t have ever stopped using it. 

“That makes me nervous. Everything makes me nervous. Sure, why not.” Mood.

Mira also makes a comment about how diverse the group is that did *not* sound like a positive or even neutral statement and, listen, I’m getting Daybreak vibes my dudes.

Very funny every time we’re reminded that the reason the Bad Kids are doing this is because it’s a school project. 

Interesting character detail that Adaine started off talking about Aelwen and Arianwyn with distancing language but eventually slipped back into just calling them her mom and sister. 

A note in case it’s relevant later: Nuathra said that Crafty--his druid companion--was not a fan of cleric stuff, thought it was nonsense, and tried to avoid it at all costs. 

Fabian re Nuathra: What did the fox say?

Kristen asks Kalina’s name and she says, “You can call me Kalina,” which is subtly different than, “My name is Kalina,” which is probably just a turn of phrase and not plot relevant but I’ve been reading a lot of Fae stuff recently and a hyper-aware of weasel-out wording right now. 

“You good?”/”Now that I’m being pressed into the grass by all my friends? Yes.”

Adaine to Riz’s earlier encounter with Kalina: That was all you? You did all that damage to yourself?

I love Fig’s outrage at Adaine joking that she uses Detect Thoughts. The idea of, “We kill people and break into places and Catfish adult men but we DO NOT Detect Thoughts on each other that is the LINE.”

Kristen giving herself a sexy roleplay promotions from Officer up to Colonel was killing me. That whole thing was such a good bit and Ally and Brennan were on the same page immediately.  

Can’t wait to see the demonic (or is that devilish?) legal system so I can tell y’all how accurate it is and use something I learned in law school for once in my life. (Note: I am a lawyer, but you’d be surprised how unhelpful law school is to actually being a lawyer). 

Wonder what that subpoena was for. Maybe something involving Gorthalax or the wall? I’m trying to think of what they’d have jurisdiction over. She said the dude she works under is on the Sloth level of hell. 

Siobhan mentioned she has good Portent rolls right now which is comforting to hear. Lol, imagine if she had also decided to go full teenager this episode and use them to ferret out Fig’s crush.   

I need you to know that, in this same week (all within 48 hours of each other), between CritRole, Naddpod, The Good Place finale, I was really just drowning in content and emotions. 

The only crit of the ep is a nat 20 from Kristen. 

[arlakos]

Why Season 3 was a Rollercoaster of a mess. (Spoilers!)

 Oh boy

Oooooooh boy where do I even begin

Lets start from the beginning i Suppose

When Miraculous Ladybug first came out i fell in love with the series. I thought the premise was nice, the characters ok and the story interesting. Well, to be fair I didnt expect much of the story due to being in its first season, but I loved it. The finale was meh (the last episode, not the mid-series Origins story, I watched it on Netflix). I liked the series. I loved the fandom. And i Couldn’t wait for season 2 at the time.

Then season 2 came out

As i started watching the first ep of season 2, it started out strong, answered a question i already knew, but then... it didn't go any further. See, when I expected season 2, I expected the story to be taken up a notch, the plot to become stronger, new and interesting characters to be introduced, and for someone to replace Hawkmoth as the antagonist (bc in my mind, he always felt like a season 1 antagonist to be replaced one season later by the actual main antagonist, and the mayura leaks did not help). 

But it never came. The story remained simple and eventually started to become bland. All episodes were all single-story eps with no correlation to each other other than the characters in them. Every single character in the show that wasnt Marinette had any sort of character growth, and I could take any one of the episodes out other than the first and last two and it wouldn't have any impact. Maybe not all of them, but some.

(This was the same time I learned that all episodes in the series were meant to always be single episode storylines. It was the same time I learned the the shows creator was also an ASS-truc, but thats a story for another day)

So for season 2, I ended up starting to find the show boring and lackluster. Most of the episodes were boring and unentertaining, and aside from a select few, such as the finale, the new hero eps and a few others, the entire season was boring to heck. 

Worse still, Marinette went from an ok nice girl (who was at times a bit of an arse) to a stalker asshole who was at times worse than Chloe. 

(Then again, the first episode of the entire series literally had Marinette have a planner used to track Adrien's every move, so what the hell do i know)

The fandom, however, was still amazing at the time, so I stuck around. The fanfics were amazing at the time and the fandom was still so kind-hearted

Luckily for me, Season 3 would manage to have some much better episodes.

But at what cost.

WHAT. COST.

See, while Season 3 was undoubtedly better that season 2 overall in episode quality, this season was probably also the worst of all 3 at the same time. This season was not only the worst in overall season quality but the one that entirely ruined the fandom for me. The plot was again non-existent and there was still no character development, but they manage to make this season better by making a plotline that required all characters to be an idiot ball, then ditch it at the end just so Thomas could again insult people on twitter.

Lets start with the first episode of Season 3: Chameleon

Sometime before the production of season 2 and 3, Asstruc learned how to write someone as a martyr people would feel pity for that character and want to protect (read: stan) them.

So naturally, Ass-truc would abuse this a lot.

In the first ep of season 3, Astruc would create the worst episode ever made. 

The premise of the episode is that Lila has returned to school and has been telling lies, which makes Marinette mad. None of the class believes her due to everyone being written as an idiot (seriously the someone gotta has google on their smartphones everyone has), so of course, Naturally Mari confronts Lila, who swears to ruin her life before and after an akuma battle which doesnt really matter for this episode, aside from the fact that Lila fully works with hawkmoth because being a bad kid means that working with a terrorist is perfectly reasonable if you can get revenge on the good guys.

So, including the fact Ass-truc reintroduced Lila back into the show as a Chloe 2.0 to making everyone an idiot ball so that the writing could even work, this will be the episode that I will hate the most. And not just for the episode itself. We’ll come to that later. But the point is, this is how most of the season would go:

-Lila: *exists*

-Marinette: *cries* im suffering so much, my life is ruined!

-Fans: stan to the point of insanity

-Me sipping my salt flavored tea: b*tch calm the f*ck down.

Speaking of Marinette, the Miraculous team had already been hellbent on making Marinette more of an asshole, stalkery and creepy and passing it off as cute in season 2, so they decided to fix that by dialing all that shit up to 11. Episodes like Weredad and Oni-chan really showed this, with the former having Marinette Literally manipulating Chat Noir to be stuck in a bad situation just for her own sake, and latter literally having her try to break into Adriens house because Lila is there. All for the excuse that Lila is a Liar and totally not because she is with Adrien, Marinette cant be jealous because Marinetteisperfectandamazingand-

Yeah, she really sucks as the main character. TBH I'm waiting for the spinoff show where Alix and Kim dare each other to do stupid stuff each episode like its MTV’s Jackass, it's gonna be fun.

Now onto the Other episodes!

While I will admit that compared to season 2, there were a lot of good episodes. Gamer 2.0, Feast, Ikari Gozen, Party Crasher, and of course the heart-wrenching Oblivio come to mind. These episodes are amazing and show how good the episodes are when you make sure the garden gnome is locked in a closet somewhere during episode development.

So out of the 26 episodes, 5 of them were really good.

The rest were either kinda ok or complete shit. That's not to say they were all bad, but there were just some parts... at best there was either a part of it I found cringeworthy too much for me to consider it as one of the good ones, such as Pupetteer 2 with its Adrien Statue scene, or at worst all of it was just written so badly, such as the entirety of Stormy Weather not actually being an episode and acutally being just and episode recap.

Now for the plot. Oh, wait, what plot?

First of all, Miraculous never had one. At best it was just a bunch of single-episode stories that Ass-truc wants you to think are connected somehow and somehow all work together as a cohesive story. A lot of the characters in Miraculous Ladybug

You mean the overarching storyline where Marinette becomes a Guardian just because she can pick a hero? Yeah, just ignore the episode where Fu said he had to spend an entire childhood learning how to even be an apprentice Guardian, or ignore the fact that picking a person to be a hero doesn't make Marinette qualified to be Guardian in a slightest!

(If someone literally has to ask me this, ask yourself if a pharmacist is fit to be a doctor just because they hand out your meds.)

What about the storylines about other certain characters in the show like Lila, who the show has been building up to be a villain while casually destroying characters' intelligence to be able to do so? The story about Chloe accepting that she can’t really be a hero anymore and moving on?

Ruined by the Finale.

Oh yeah, the finale.

This season Finale was probably the worst finale out of all the seasons and half the stuff done in the last two episodes did not make sense. I dont want to talk about it much because I want to do a blog post about it later on, but for the sake of the finale, they ruined a bunch of characters, martyred Marinette for the 100th time, and created some stupid plot ideas for the sake of coolness. And by coolness i mean stanning Marinette again and making her extra special. Doesnt matter if it makes a contradiction or makes no sense. Stupidity has won this episode!

To be fair though, all the reasons above aren’t the reasons I hate this season. 

No.

The reason for season 3 being the worst for me is how it had ruined the fandom.

Ever since the first episode of season 3, the fandom has become a cesspool of salt and anger. Character bashing because the class didn't straight up agree with Marinette instantly, Over the top Marinette stanning, fanfics that go over the top crazy, it has gone insane. On ao3 most fanfics of ML that i have seen have been about ‘Chameleon Fix-Its’ where Lila is metaphorically shot with a GAT, ‘Marinette protection Squads’ which basically involve her moving schools because Lila exists, and the Maribat ship that has made my head dent my desk (seriously where the fuck did it come from?!). Worst still, as a result of Season 3, the Adrien hate has started to go crazy as a result of the Chameleon episode and similar eps resulting in Marinette being shipped with Luka (aka the better Adrien as stated by Marinette stans), Felix before the Felix episode dropped, and even Damien Wayne in the Notorious Maribat ship (no seriously where did it come from i want answers!). To put it simple, thanks to Ass-truc all of ao3 is filled with salt fics and no more original and interesting stories.

BTW while i have your attention and am talking about good Miraculous stories on ao3, go read Miraculous Tales by JED1 on AO3 its soo damn good.

To be fair, I myself am angry at the episode, but only because everyone was written to be an idiot ball for the episode to work, and because of the fact Astruc used the episode to rile up the fandom to be almost as toxic as him.

If anything, its the number one reasons why i hate seasons 3 and the reason why it has ruined the fandom for me.

And that, overall, is why i think Season 3 was a Rollercoaster of a mess.

[miresofblack]

𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 — i never promised you an open heart or charity / i never wanted to abuse your imagination

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 : the date is may 25th, 1938, and spring is not the only thing twisting dark damsons by their stems. 

her clothes don’t fit quite the way she likes it – being away for months had meant she’d grown out of everything but aside from the lightness, she is clean and sprightly as spring rain, and has arrived at pollux black’s countryside estate like a strong current blowing through the drapes. the morning had been spent hovering about the entire estate, listening to her aunt’s mumbling about minding the carpet, the way the humidity clung to the glasses, fussing at every green thing in turn until alphard, poking his head out from the top of the stairs, asks if lucretia has seen the great dane in the courtyard.

“maybe i saw it the foyer,” she says as she draws closer to the railing, “but i saw cygnus cleaning today. what’s that all about?”

alphard finds her trivia hardly interesting but simply stupid. it’s obvious he’s busy about the dog and all, and what he does offer is not quite an explanation but a well-know fact: “cygnus doesn’t do many things, much less with cleaning anything.”

“oh.” lucretia’s hand settles on the edge of the railing where she lingers inconveniently, smiling like a thunderhead on a tether worth pulling. “you don’t say.”

-❈-

it’s noon now, and the day's heat is whistling through her kindling body like a greeting.

she looks behind her and finds that the light behind her is weaker — like looking at sunlight through a fine white cloth, orion is now sat at the hilt of the mound, a silhouette of grey and shadow no different than an unsuspecting doe resting in a round, makeshift nest of grass.

'can you believe—' (now rolling her eyes, a fine spray of lucretia’s flyaway hairs scatter with irritation in the breeze; in this way, it's true that lucretia has always been a thing of motion.) '—they're making me learn—' (and motion, like way of sound, can only be compelled to change its state by the actions of an outside force.) '—about those BEASTS!' (and lucretia, by way of law, will always be the one of two to carry that force.)

the way he sounds and looks at her seems to turn every leaf, every single one, to a breathless crisp. “what.”

“the half-beasts. i’m talking about centaurs.”

he glares for something else that isn’t her answer even if it is all the more unspectacular and irritating. “like you? you’re half-gnome yourself.”

lucretia wastes no time shoving him into the grass with the delicacy of a bulldozer. “don’t ever say that to me again.”

and then she felt a tug. it was the kind of tug like having a rug pulled out clean from beneath her, like a plug yanked out straight from a socket. and then another tug, carrying with it that same sense of surprise, the same sense of blinking and finding herself severed until she’s face-planted into the ground. the dead of spring breeding dead thistles that scratch her bare legs with each shock of pain with every tussle, shredding whiteness into her skin and pinpricks of blood in the afternoon glare.

"you SNITCH—” he mumbled between both of lucretia’s hands she’d placed over his face in attempt to ward him off. “now i won’t be able to go to the world cup game, because of what you did, you snitch!”

“stop it, cygnus!”

they strike each other hard enough to ring a two-tone bell, the sound mad as a bull and heavy and scarlet enough that it all but shakes the trunk of the trees.

“you shouldn’t have done what you did!”

the thought of it leaves an agitation, a trepidation, like wings beating in her chest, that precise half-moment she’d watched cygnus hide something in his pocket before going through a chest full of linens. at first she’d thought he had been cleaning, that perhaps had meant to launder the linens, but elves did the laundry and she’d found for herself the antique pipe he’d placed behind four layers of linen.

“you stole.”

“and was it worth it to have told? well, let me tell you something lucretia - nobody likes a know-it-all, especially one as stupid and sneaky as you.”

when she’s older the pressure of her disdain will smash windows, but for now it only rattles in her scowl, the spring air giving a violent rustle as if it’d developed the requisite nerves to feel cold. lucretia stands over him and delivers one final spat:

“i’m not to blame for the bad thing you did, cygnus.”

when she shuffles down the path that cygnus had led her to not long ago, the soles of her shoes drag on the dried-out flower heads that litter the path, slogging miserably and diminishing the brown husks to ash. cygnus is following in her tracks and calling out to her only to remain in miserable earshot.

it is only when she nears orion she is reminded her to correct her dizzied gaze. “do not ask,” is all she has to say, “but you may see later.” with a hand now at his forearm, she steers them to a less aggravating area of the estate. “ right now i’m thinking bad things because i’m mad.”

-❈-

there’s a lag in the star’s sparkle, a wrinkle, a chink, in the way she blinks and unwraps her eating utensils and crosses her legs at the ankles after taking her seat at the table. both violent with thistle and scalded like flowering dogwood refusing to be pared for the cold bark of winter.

“a-yā!” her mother’s hand pecks at her hair and the slit of dirt on her elbow. “don’t look so pestilent, lucretia. we’ve hardly begun to cut into our food.”

terse, but still shaken after the tremor of cygnus’ underfoot, lucretia decides to try her best to remain placid. “i’m sorry,” she exhales with a squaring of her shoulders, gently smoothing out the fabric of her skirt as each thistle catches her fingers like a small sting. now with butterknife in hand, she’s cutting into a scone and eyeing cygnus with the fondness of an arrow enroute to bullseye. “i guess that cyngus and i are just not good at playing fair.”

the other looks up in gummy embrace and toothy smile. “it’s all in good fun, really.”

“but lucretia isn’t used to such excitement...”

“she has to.” a third voice announces as graceful and filled with intent as a serpent, or arrowhead, both marked with imperial demand. “present afflictions tend to our future good - better she and orion scrape their knees in the bounds of our homes than be clubbed over the head by anyone else outside our gates.”

they all nod. but what they don’t say is that tyrants are blind to their own rubble until they are crushed by it; which is to say, there is a kind of joy in the being crushed, as well as a kind of apathy. that’s all holiness is, really – the joy of indifference. so lucretia sinks like a stone into her seat. at a glance, her expression is flat, the body looks discarded, like a doll flung akimbo, but she’s eleven and all play, a wind-up toy waiting to be vitalized again after dinner. she doesn't know words like hate, like smash, like pain, like war, like murder, but she knows that familiarity is a type of ownership, ownership a type of omnipotence, and so that famous black family spirit is naturally crammed tight into all four foot, eleven inches like a handful of a molotov cocktail.

so she’ll play along, and the look she levels him from across the table is scorched and barren from the height of day. “next time, cousin, we play a game that you won’t see coming.”

“— and, can you pass me the butter, please?”

[longshotlink]

Because I am a DM and a bastard, for your D&D ask meme:

4, 6, 7, 9, 14, 16, 19, 24, 31, 34, 35, 37, 38, 41, 46, 47, 49, 56, 58, 59, 63, 67, 68 and 69 for Nerea!

4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be? 

Nerea would an aggro pulling spell. Despite hating being in the spotlight, she doesn’t want anyone else taking punishment. Only she deserves being hurt.

6. which party member do they relate to the most? 

Probably relates to Thysara the most. Lotta self-deprecation there, and Nerea sees herself in that.

7. which party member do they understand the least? 

Honestly probably Swivel. They’ve spent the most time together, but Nerea just does not get her sometimes.

9. do they care about their appearance? how much effort do they put into presentation? 

Basically none. She’s lived on streets her entire life. She’s numb to the idea of dressing up or presenting herself as ‘better’ than she is.

14. what is something they love about themself? 

She knows she should probably have something, but she tries not to think about herself very much. Her bladesinging is useful, but she doesn’t extend that usefulness to herself.

16. what are their feelings on the people who raised them? 

What - what does that even mean? Who would even have done that? She was more or less alone until she met the half-elf who taught her bladesinging, and even then, she didn’t really like being around him, so if that counts...

19. what haunts them? what doesn’t? 

Probably that if she doesn’t “pull her weight” the people around her will leave her. If she’s not useful, she’s nothing. Constant worry.

24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most? 

Fire most likely. Nerea would probably not feel connected to the elements, just that fire seems the most useful for her.

31. they’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? 

Shove it in her meager spellbook. Probably not the kind of paper she needs, but experiments might be needed and she wouldn’t want to waste that kind of paper.

34. which party member do they go to in a crisis? 

The only party member she’d feel she’d be “allowed” to do so with is Swivel. Just because their time together means she’s at least gotten to that level of ‘trust to not be rejected or turned away.’

35. which party member do they worry for? 

Thysara. She seems so distraught about her life choices. Nerea keeps worrying she’ll just disappear one day in some sort of despair fugue and not come back. She also worries about Aiden, she seems so angry most of the time, and it doesn’t feel healthy. At the same time, she has no idea how to approach either of these problems.

37. what is their favorite thing to hold? 

The rapier that was given to her during her “training” at bladesong. While not the happiest of times for Nerea, the sword gives her a sense of security, and not just in a danger sense, but a sense she won’t be given up for dead weight.

38. what do they smell like? 

Dirt, probably. She doesn’t bathe often and consistently sleeps on the ground. Part of that is “deserving” a bath, and the other is just not staying in one place long enough to feel comfortable taking a bath.

41. what are they attracted to in other people? 

If this is a romantic or physical attraction...she’s not. She doesn’t even know that’s not the norm. It’s just how she’s always been...probably chalked it up to “I don’t deserve that kind of thing” when she sees clearly happy people together, but she is actually ace/aro.

If you’re talking friendships, she doesn’t really know yet. She’s mostly run on “people who put up with her” but she’s figuring it out, I think. She likes the people she’s around at the moment.

46. what do they deprive themself of? 

Affection, attention, more than just enough food to get by, touch (touch-starved, not that she knows what that is), probably a bunch of other things she doesn’t feel she deserves. I swear she’ll get better...you know, if circumstances get better for her. Maybe she’ll curl further into her shell if things get worse.

47. when they meet someone, what is the first thing they notice? 

The look the person gives her. She’s always ready to make herself scarce or smaller if she feels the new person might hurt her or see her as beneath them. She’s always on the lookout for signs of abuse.

49. what makes them smile? 

I honestly don’t know how much she’s smiled in the game so far. Possibly not any? I’d imagine if she thought her friends (and she feels presumptuous to call them that) were in danger, but then found them in safety, that would probably make her smile in relief.

56. what animal do they most relate to? 

Mouse? Just kinda meek and hoping she’ll dodge notice.

58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality? 

She thinks her role in the party is to attract attention to keep it off others. She partly thinks this because she has a protective streak in her, but she also just thinks “if anyone is going to get hit, it might as well be me instead of someone else.”

Her actual role in the party? I dunno, wizards are pretty versatile. I guess I’d say mixed range offensive. With her sword she can do quite a bit up front, but she’s got a small selection of ranged spells if the enemy is just staying out of range. (Freaking peryton)

59. what is a quiet passion of theirs? 

Is surviving a passion? Probably not, but since that’s what she’s spent a lot of her life just trying to accomplish, she hasn’t really had a lot of time to explore those. Some would think singing would be, but it’s kind of just part of her magic, and she sees it as more of a tool than something to be proud or passionate about.

63. what fight has scared them the most? 

Honestly, the Iron Bull construct thing. It was huge and metal, and she had no idea how to honestly hurt it. And then Swivel was inside it? The crag cats felt bad too, but that was a “if i don’t protect people, it’s my fault if they die, and then i’ll be in trouble for it” sort of reason, less mortal fear.

67. what makes them laugh?

Swivel. Part fondness, part exasperation. But either way, the laughter will be quiet.

68. what was the best moment of their life? 

She doesn’t believe such a thing exists. (Also, hasn’t happened yet. I imagine eventually something will happen that will make her so happy or awed that it’ll stick with her. Everything else has been tinged in awful so far.

69. how would they describe their party members? 

Swivel is loud and somehow also rather sneaky? She disappears a lot, and Nerea isn’t always sure if that means she became invisible or she just found someone she wanted to bed. Nerea is glad to have her, but always worried the gnome will find someone she likes better to travel and perform with.

Thysara is worrying. She clearly had something traumatic happen recently, and she seems very down on herself a lot. Nerea doesn’t like the way she talks about herself and no she does not see the hypocrisy in that. Thysara is at the moment quiet and hesitant, at least it seems that way.

Aiden spends a lot of time grumbling to herself, and Nerea knows she’s angry and worried about the baron/duke guy, but it makes it hard to approach and get to know her very well. She’s very capable in battle, and Nerea wishes she were like that a bit more. She just steps in and is very confident about her decisions.

Muriel is...intimidating. She’s tall and has a very commanding presence about her. Nerea is nervous to speak her mind around Muriel, afraid of disappointing her. She feels the most distant of her party members to Nerea.

[dragimal]

Longform Audio Creepypasta Recs

hey TMA fandom! as a new TMA listener but looooongtime creepypasta fan, I find it rly cool that ppl who aren’t into horror are getting into TMA! I’m hoping this will help bring fresh blood (hah) to the horror fandom, so if you’ve realized that you rather like audio horror but don’t know what else to look into, I’m here to recommend my favorite longform creepypasta narrations! 

this is far from an exhaustive list of long creepypastas, but I just want to introduce some of the stories I consider to be the best of the genre. and while I’m just reccing longform in this post, there are plenty of short one-shots I could rec if anyone wants to ask me abt a specific theme/Entity or even a specific ep of TMA (there are several MAG eps that brought me straight back to a specific creepypasta or two, lmao)

also, I’ll just be linking to MrCreepyPasta’s narrations b/c I’m heavily biased so I mostly listen to him, but there are plenty of other great narrators out there like CreepsMcPasta, CreepypastaJr, etc. (most of their names are variations on a theme asdfgh). and if u just want the text version of any of these, every video I link has a link in its own description back to the original text posting of the story

THAT outta the way, here are my recs! I’ll try to remember all the trigger warnings I can, but keep in mind I tend to be p hardy to most horror content, so there may be some things that slip past simply b/c they don’t register to me. also it’s been a minute since I’ve listened to some of these, so some have updated or I may have just forgotten some aspects. I’ll also update this if ppl find it useful and I find more good long pastas~

Penpal (2.5 hrs, complete)

op recounts some of their odd experiences as a child, all of which stem from an elementary school project involving a pen pal. as he recalls these experiences, a horrifying picture of his past begins to emerge...

easily my favorite pasta of all time-- and that’s saying something, considering there are some damn good recs here. it’s one of the first I read so long ago, and few have come close to what this one made me feel. op does an incredible job of capturing the nostalgia and childhood wanderlust of youth, and the last few lines of each chunk of the story hit like a goddamned truck-- esp "Friends”, I cry like a baby every time, it just.... hits something tender in me...

TW: stalking of children, subsequent kidnapping and child abuse at the end (and while it’s not necessarily *confirmed*, heavy implications of child sexual abuse, for that last bit). implied cat death. some graphic description of the victim of a hit-and-run

Search and Rescue Woods (~5 hrs, ongoing?)

op recalls several of the strange and disturbing experiences (their own and quoted from coworkers) of working search-and-rescue for an unnamed national forest in the US

y’know that feeling u get when u see photos lawn chairs just sitting at the bottom of the ocean? even if there’s a perfectly good explanation for why they’re there, it’s still haunting b/c it feels wrong to see them there, in that context? that’s basically this entire assortment of stories-- the obvious example being the stairs, of course, but even a lot of the human elements feel so out of place and wrong. if you’re a fan of Spiral-type horror w/ a hard edge of Stranger, this is the story for u

TW: generally clinical but graphic descriptions of mutilated bodies. use of the r-slur against an nd individual (it’s during a story that the main character is quoting from a different one-off character, so it thankfully only happens the one time..). child death, in certain stories. some wild animal death

Borrasca (2.5 hrs, complete)

Sam moves to a small mountain town with his family after his father’s job relocates them. he hears some spooky legends about the town, but doesn’t think much of them... that is, until his sister disappears. as Sam and his friends dig deeper into the town’s history to find any clues to his sister’s disappearance, they begin to realize there’s something deeply deeply wrong with their quaint little home

I’ve always loved horror that’s ‘mundane’ enough to be done by regular humans, but vague enough that it could actually be supernatural, under the right circumstances-- and this is one of those mysteries that keeps u guessing until the VERY end. my mind felt like that Pepe Silvia corkboard meme the first time I listened to this, I was losin’ it. this is also prolly one of my favorite examples of MCP’s talent as a narrator, b/c he adds in his own subtle foreshadowing with his voicework, and it blows my mind every time I listen to it again

also worth mentioning there’s a (3.5 hr) sequel! since the horror/mystery is basically done after the first one, the sequel is mostly suspense/thriller and character closure. if ur just here for the horror/mystery and the gut-punch of that first ending, then the sequel isn’t necessary. but if you want more closure for our dear sweet cast who deserve so much better, then by all means!

TW: the ending involves heavy sexual abuse (involving underage girls, no less), part of which is graphic. like I know I joke abt having to take breaks after reading emotionally exhausting stories, but I genuinely had to take a couple days of recovery after this one-- and that’s from someone who’s p hardy to all kinds of graphic content. do NOT take this warning lightly if this is a sensitive topic for you

Tales From the Gas Station (10 hrs for free, otherwise ongoing)

Jack works at a gas station at the edge of a middle-of-nowhere town. Strange things happen at the gas station-- bipedal deer stopping by for a drink, dark gods leaving vague messages, fingers growing from the ground out back, sudden lawn gnome appearances-- All just a part of the daily grind, right?

so if I wanna be totally fair, this is more a rec for Night Vale fans than anything (tho the TMA/WTNV overlap seems to be p significant). the comedic, nonchalant tone taken towards everything supernatural and horrific is p much 1:1 WTNV. I’ve genuinely cried laughing at some of the fuckshit that happens, esp anything involving Jerry. not to say that GST doesn’t have its heavy-horror moments, but the frequency is more comparable to Night Vale’s approach-- dark comedy definitely takes center stage, here. tho this also varies by the POV-- the “Finding Vanessa” arcs are told from the perspective of a more serious character, so the heavy parts are far more frequent and hit a lot harder

as for the time estimate, here’s where it gets a littleee bit complicated. the first version was put out for free, and read for free by MCP (among a few other narrators). this came out in several different parts, and the one video I linked above has compiled *most* of volume 1, but not the Halloween story, featured here. HOWEVER, the author has taken a second go at v1 and beyond, which is currently ongoing and available to buy as books or audiobooks ALSO narrated by MCP!

as for deciding which version to listen to, I’ll just try to describe the differences here. the first version was written entirely via Jack’s online forum posts, which were subject to more direct reader interaction and Jack’s scatterbrain. thus, the first version leaves a LOT more details up to reader interpretation/theorizing, straight up doesn’t have or explain certain plot arcs yet, and is very disorganized in terms of timeline all due to Jack’s canon memory issues. this all, personally, made it v fun and silly to follow, but I’m aware that’s not for everyone. the second version is written from a more standard first person narrative from Jack’s perspective. while Jack’s memory issues still make him an unreliable narrator (often *upsettingly* so in this version), the actual narrative is far more organized, complete, and easy to follow. the fun thing is that the first version can still be considered canon material to the second version, as Jack references making those very forum posts within the second version narrative. so, personally, I consider the second version to be the core cohesive story, while the first version is supplemental, fun material that provides more context for a few of the strange bits that happen in the story (like Jack’s ‘secret admirer’ makes more sense if u’ve listened to the first version). either way, the second version is the only way the story is going to continue (as far as I’m aware), so if you’re ONLY going to listen to one version of the story, listen to the second version

TW: for the first version, there are some uncomfortable jokes/implications at certain points-- associating villains/assholes with fatness and/or personality disorders is unfortunately a running theme, and a few off-color jokes are made abt some of Jack’s conditions (general mental health and his brief use of crutches). there’s also a point at which it’s implied that a specific one-off arc is a ploy to rape Jack, tho nothing actually comes of it beyond awkward scheming (but just in case, that story is specifically “Death at the Gas Station” at the very end of that long compilation, if u wanna skip it). for the second version, I believe the author was made aware of these issues and either straight-up removed or fixed most of them in some way. there’s just one point where an intentionally-questionable character uses the g*psy slur, and a few points where a regular commenter on Jack’s forum posts has w*ndigo in their username

in terms of gore for either one, uhhh maybe some descriptions of injuries? body horror? this one’s a lot harder to call for me, b/c the comedy softens the blow on a lot of the horror

Accounts From a Lonely Broadcast Station (5 hrs, ongoing)

Evelyn is the new voice of a small mountain town’s local radio station. her job is to take calls, play music (ALWAYS play the music), and broadcast emergency warnings whenever the fog rolls in from the surrounding forest. pretty standard stuff. she tries to make the most of it-- if only that damn crow with human eyes would stop watching her...

this one’s similar to Gas Station Tales with its heavy reliance on dark humor, but it takes itself a bit more seriously, with a more even split b/t genuine horror and comedy. also MCP brings in wonderful extra voice talent w/ this one, I RLY love Evelyn's va ;w;

TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation and body horror

My Friend Has Been Living in an Alternate Reality (4 hrs, complete)

op’s eccentric friend, Clint, turns up on op’s doorstep unannounced after several years missing. Clint vanishes again just as abruptly, leaving op with a journal detailing a horrifying, dangerous journey that’s almost too bizarre to believe, yet...

so this one’s more like an action/thriller with horror garnish, tbh-- very exciting and suspenseful! I love the weird, apocalyptic world Clint describes in his journals, and the societies that have cropped up around these hostile circumstances

TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation/injury

My Name is Lily Madwhip (~8 hrs, ongoing)

Lily Madwhip sees things before they happen. they’re usually horrible things like deaths and injuries that she wishes she could prevent but often can’t. at least her best friend-- an angel possessing one of Lily’s dolls-- is around to provide advice

this one’s from the perspective of a little girl, and it leans into dark humor enough to soften at least some of the more traumatic moments. Lily’s young enough that she’s somewhat removed from the full gravity of the deaths around her, but the fact that it’s happening so frequently at all seems to be warping her perspective towards death to be more... casual? is that the right word? it’s just a rly interesting perspective to see for horror. also we’ve got another rly great guest va here for Lily~

TW: brief descriptions of injury, but they’re not graphic. frequent animal death.

The Showers (2.75 hrs, complete)

op recounts a scary story he heard from a teacher back in high school about a vague location and a terrifying encounter. he later ventures to find this location to see the truth for himself, but is it worth it?

this one’s a classic-- I think it was of the first creepypasta I listened to? not this version, but I wouldn’t be able to tell u which narrator it was at the time. I won’t say that this one’s the most unique story out there, but something abt it has always stuck with me?.... idk, I think the premise rly hooks me

TW: oh god it’s been a while, but I don’t remember anything particularly triggering? maybe body horror?

[serenagaywaterford]

OKAY so last night's episode actually gave me a lot of hope for serena's arc. [SPOILERS] there was a blatant parallel: the shot of serena standing in front of the window on the nursery at that house and the shot of june standing in front of the window in eleanor's room after convincing eleanor to go for a walk (with the intention of going to see hannah). also the fact that fred is clearly lying to her makes me believe that's the catalyst for her wake up call. or maybe I'm delusional who knows

(cont.) also the fact that the only point of june’s storyline this episode was essentially to show us that june’s selfishness has consequences, just like serena’s. I really can’t help but think they’re setting them up as different sides of the same coin.

——

So I purposely put this in my drafts before I left the house so I could reply in the car. (Since I cant open asks on my phone)

Now, caveat, I skimmed the episode really quickly and only watched serena scenes (sorta), and alma, and naomi. So I doubt really have a good grasp of the episode.

Thank you for pointing out the framing parallel! I wouldn’t have seen it otherwise probably. Honestly, I think maybe you’re right … I thought it was curious when Olivia mentioned “home” and Serena was like “i dont have a home anymore” or whatever it was. She’s so unmoored, but in a quiet way. Even with Fred around she’s still not… home. (It’s where the heart is, right? And Nichole is in Canada, and even in a non-shippy way, June was her ~heart side, the compassion/humanity side only June has been able to draw out, miraculously.) And the contrast with June who is equally unmoored, emotionally (in a much louder way than serena). It’s like they’re both incredibly unbalanced without the other. There are other counterweights of course like Nichole (for Serena) and Nick (for June) (and Hannah too). But they are both missing tethers. Yet they also refuse to admit that connection. Cos it sucks lmao.

Anyway, what was my point? Oh, yeah. So, the convo with Naomi. Firstly, you have to love Eleanor lmao. “It’s good you didn’t die, little babby!” I found that interesting for many reasons but also cos it was a direct reference to Serena and June’s work in 2x08. Serena saved that baby. With June’s constant nudging. There have been seemingly frequent references to 2x08, either explicit or implicit. That was June and Serena’s teamwork, with Janine’s instincts. And then I’m not totally sure what to make of Naomi’s comment about how well June is getting along with Eleanor. That was a dig about Serena, but I can’t decide if it was an admonishment, suspicion, or veiled jealousy on behalf of Serena, or what it was. I’d have to watch it again. I love Naomi, that’s all I know.

I loved how awkward Serena was at the ball with those other Wives. She’s no longer one of them. Not that she’s ever been particularly socially apt with them. I like how it’s setting up that Serena is not quite who she used to be, and she’s a bit outcast. I’m sure given time she would assimilate though; she’s good at that.

Now, as for Fred. I honestly skipped through a lot of those cos I hate him more than any other character ever on this show. I just hope and PRAY that they’re setting Serena up for a rude awakening, cos right now she seems to be blocking out his abuse like a superstar. I don’t want her to be assaulted again by him, but I don’t see her really getting the message any other way. Cos Fred is clearly lying to her face. 

So, I guess its hopeful in a way. But I’ll have to wait and see cos my faith in this show is very low.

(I can’t even talk about that ballroom dancing scene cos I skipped it and it was stupid af. Typical melodramatic American primetime TV bullshit. Whatevs. I’m past it.)

And yeah, I need 100% of fandom to hop off Serena’s dick about her selfishness when June Osborne is running around endangering every Martha, Wife, and Handmaid she sees – all for Hannah. And all cos she has some arrogant, inflated sense of her own ability to be a ~rebel. She’s actually going insane I think. And like… what does June expect anyway? She’s gonna show up at Hannah’s school… and then???? WHAT?????? 

I’m on mobile but can someone do the underpants gnome meme for June??? Please? Like honestly she has no plan and just gets everyone upset or DEAD.

And none of it even makes sense. If June had just left with Nichole, that baby would be safe and untouchable. (Or less insecure anyway.) And Serena wouldn’t be flipping out nearly as hard (if you believe that’s reason she’s upset at June). June could have then used Serena as her inside contact to get Hannah out. Ta da. You’d still have to trust Serena and likely get her something in return but I’d say that’s a better shot than just randomly running around Gilead getting innocent people killed. But hey, that’s me lmao. Right now NEITHER of her kids are safe lol. GOOD JOB.

So, yeah, I think (hope) they’re setting it up as Serena and June are basically the same person, in many ways. They’re both incredibly narrow minded and self absorbed, and dont seem to care who they trample on to get their way. Just in slightly different ways cos at least June wants her babies out of Gilead, and isn’t delusional af about parental rights lol.

[isweartoerenimnotjaeger]

Visiting Mana’s Grave

               (This just happened out of the blue. Warning it is sad. I visited my grandparent’s graves, so I got inspired to write this. It’s usually a thing in my family to go down during Memorial Day and go look at my relatives graves. I know it’s supposed to be for veterans that have passed, but we also used it as an excuse to visit my other relatives that have not served in the army. Well, perhaps it’s not really an excuse since my grandfather was a veteran, but we would also visit my cousin’s grave because she was in the same cemetery, or my grandmother. Today we visited my other grandmother. We haven’t visited her grave site in a couple years because usually we see my grandfather’s. Trigger warnings: very sad, implied child abuse and implied car accident).

               Today was Memorial Day. It was supposed to be a day to honor veterans that died, but some people also used the holiday to visit their loved one’s graves that were not even veterans. So, while the holiday was meant for veterans, Cross was using it as an excuse to drag his brat up to Mana’s grave. He felt guilty about it. He should really make the drive more often to let Allen visit Mana. It would probably be healthy for him, not to mention Mana didn’t have anyone looking after his grave site from what it seemed. Usually it was something that took an entire day. It wasn’t because the drive to get up there was long. It was quite short. They didn’t know what to do with Mana’s body when he passed because he never had a will. They ended up deciding to bury him in the town’s cemetery because many Noah family members lived in this area. He was also a childhood friend of Cross’s and even though Mana went under the name Walker, he was still apart of the Noah family. It’s just that Allen would crumble, and it took him awhile to pull himself back together whenever they did visit the grave. Cross had to be mentally and physically prepared to see Allen like that and he wanted to plan those visitations in such a way where Allen had time to grieve. He had time to express his emotions and time to pull himself together again.

               If Allen really wanted to (and could remember the way there), he could visit Mana whenever he wanted to. Cross preferred taking him up there himself though. You know, for moral support. Allen also had a tendency to freeze up and Cross was afraid that if no one was there the kid would sit there forever. In a way Cross thought Allen chose not to go alone because it hurt too much as it was. Maybe he was afraid of going alone.

               From his spot in the window Cross could see this time around that the sun was shining and there was a gentle spring breeze that shook the tree leaves outside. The other times Cross attempted to take Allen, it was always rainy or cold. It felt fitting. Mana always had a smile on his face. He was always bright and cheerful. He looked for the best in people. A sunny day was perfect kind of weather to go visit him.

               “You ready to go kid?” Cross asked, turning around to face the small, timid, little boy who swung his legs back and forth in the chair he sat in. His tone held a particular tenderness to it that he only uses on things pertaining Mana. Allen looked up slowly, as if coming out of a daze. This was quite natural for him and Cross learned to stay patient. The kid was hurting after all. He may not understand his feelings towards his adoptive father because his dad was a total asshole, but he lost people before. He knew how hard it was to adjust. Speaking of his dad. His father’s grave was also in the town’s cemetery. Right next to his mother’s. He never visited them though. He would visit his mother’s, but he really didn’t want to be near his father’s. He could give less of a fuck over what his grave site looked like.

               “You ready to go?” Cross asked again at the kid’s blank look, walking over to ruffle up his hair. That seemed to lift some of the daze and the child nodded back before scooting off of his chair and following Cross.

               As they approached the car Cross asked, “So, do you know what kind of flowers Mana liked? Or what his favorite color is?”

               Allen looked up at him in confusion. What did he mean by flowers and stuff?

               “Usually people leave flowers when they visit graves. It makes them look pretty. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Sometimes people will leave little animal statues or solar lights,” Cross explained with a shrug as they got into the car.

               “I don’t know,” Allen shrugged, feigning disinterest.

               Cross was about to just accept Allen’s word and drive to the cemetery, but he decided against it. Allen was in a vulnerable state right now and hiding his emotions. While Allen was feigning disinterest, he could be actually really wanting to put something on Mana’s grave, but not willing to admit it.

               “Well…we have time. I think we should check out and see what they have. Maybe something will jump out at you. Besides, you were his son and I doubt anyone else is putting anything nice on his grave,” Cross said as he started up the car and began to drive. He was being a hypocrite. He knew that. I mean it wasn’t like he was taking care of his own father’s grave so why the hell was he preaching to this kid? What right did he have? Mana was special though. He was a fucking nutcase, but he took care of Allen the best that he could. That’s saying a lot more than his own father ever did. Plus, he was a childhood friend of sorts, Cross felt it was his duty to make sure Mana got something. Or at least forced the kid into looking at putting something on his grave.

               “Okay,” was Allen’s response.

~

               Allen stared with deep concentration at the flower sheet, willing the complicated words to make sense. He could pick out familiar flower names like a Rose, Daisy, Lily, but there were a lot he couldn’t pronounce or remember what they were. Cross didn’t seem impatient though. He allowed Allen time to try and figure it out himself. Judging from the furrowed eyebrows and the way he looked like he was trying to mentally combust the paper he was looking at; he could see Allen was not getting very far.

               Cross knelt down to peer at the paper in Allen’s hand, “Got any you’re interested in?”

               “No…” Allen responded which he was technically being truthful. The ones he could read and understand were few and their meanings were even harder to understand. He didn’t know flowers had meanings to begin with. Well if that’s the case he didn’t want to choose the wrong one.

               “Well...what about this flower?” Cross asked, pointing to the word Aster. It was one Allen could read but didn’t know what it looked like.

               “It’s that bright purple flower with the yellow center,” Cross said, tapping Allen’s shoulder and pointing up at one of the flower vases, “It means patience, love, and wisdom. If I had to pick a flower for Mana, I think I would pick that one. We could also add some forget-me-nots which represent remembrance. It’s those little blue flowers up there. Maybe some zinnias, which are those colorful puffier flowers up there. It represents friendship, remembrance, and goodness.”

               “Can we have that one to?” Allen asked, pointing at a sunflower. He thought it was very sunny and happy looking like Mana.

               “Sure.”

               “What does it mean?” Allen asked, wanting to make sure it would still fit with the arrangement.

               “It means adoration and loyalty.”

               “Mana liked to look at them a lot,” Allen stated. Cross nodded.

               “Alright then. Anything else?” Cross asked. Allen was so invested in understanding the flower chart he didn’t see what other things the flower/gardening shop had. They had a lot of colorful garden decorations. There were sculptures of bears, mushrooms, garden gnomes, crosses, color changing lights, wind chimes, cats, and dogs. The dogs are what caught Allen’s eye. Allen strode over to the decorations, looking at one particular statue of a dog that looked almost exactly like Allen the dog. Of course, the statue didn’t include his clown costume. Without the costume though, it would’ve definitely been an exact replica of Allen. Cross looked over at Allen who seemed absolutely fixated on one specific statue of a dog that was sleeping with it’s head resting on it’s paws. It looked peaceful.

               Allen wasn’t the type of kid to ask for stuff. Sometimes he’ll get ballsy and ask for something just to piss Cross off, but he never asked for much. It was mostly little things like candy or some shit. Bigger things like toys, the kid would stare a little bit too long, but move on.

               “You want it?” Cross asked nonchalantly, “Go ahead and get it.”

               Allen put his head down in shame, feeling guilty that Cross knew it. He couldn’t help it though. It felt like it was screaming at him to grab it. He knew Mana would love it.

               “Come on. Don’t worry about it. Grab it,” Cross responded, taking Allen out of his guilty thoughts as he ruffled up his hair again. With a moment of hesitation, the little boy grabbed the dog statue and carefully carried it towards the cash register. Cross shot off what kind of flower arrangement they wanted and in just a few minutes Allen had the dog statue in his lap with a bouquet of flowers. It was quite the arrangement. A little bit crazy, but colorful, just like Mana.

               “T-Thank you,” Allen stuttered out as Cross started up the car, petting the dog lightly with a fingertip.

               “Don’t worry about it kid. Besides, Mana deserves it,” Cross said as he drove to the cemetery. The rest of the drive was spent in silence and it seemed like the closer they got to the grave site, the heavier the atmosphere got.

When Cross finally pulled up near the spot Mana was buried, he sighed. “Alright kid. Let’s go see Mana, shall we?”

               Allen gave a slight nod, his body slouching as he got out of the car. Cross placed his hand against Allen’s back, pushing him gently forward as he guided the boy to Mana’s grave. It only took a couple minutes to find it and Cross was surprised with how well kept it was. The two stood awkwardly for a long time, staring down at the letters etched into the stone. Mana Walker.

               “Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?” Cross asked. I mean, it was sort of a private moment and he wanted to give Allen the option to be alone with his grief. He wouldn’t stay away for long, of course, but sometimes people just needed to be alone for a bit.

               Allen nodded.

               “Alright. I won’t be gone long. If you need something send Tim after me,” Cross said, rubbing Allen’s head affectionately before he wandered off. Allen felt the huge weight in his chest slowly pull him down to the grass in front of Mana’s grave.

               “Hi Mana…I got you flowers…well Cross helped. He knows a lot about flowers. I forgot the name of some of them, but I got you a sunflower because we’d always see them on our travels. I also got you this dog. It looks like your dog. He doesn’t have a clown costume on though. I know you missed him a lot even though you wouldn’t admit it that day…that day we met,” Allen said softly as he placed each item against the gravestone, “I have…I have a lot of friends now. I also do dancing and singing. I’m pretty good at it…”

               Then the words trailed off. It seemed meaningless to describe to Mana his day and what’s been going on. Words were harder to come by when grief threatened to pull him down, wrapping it’s way around his body, around his neck, covering his eyes. All that he could choke out was.

               “I miss you…” and then he felt himself become sucked into the vortex. His mind blanked out.

~

               Without meaning to, Cross stumbled upon his parent’s graves. To be honest, he actually forgot where they were. It’s been so long. His mother died earlier than his dad, when he was still in high school. He couldn’t remember much of the funeral services, other than the fact that Neah stood beside him, while Mana stood at the other. There were a few mourners, but nothing much. His father passed when he just got out of high school. There was no Neah. There was no Mana. There were no mourners. It was just him standing there, making sure that fucking bastard was finally dead. Cross was utterly alone with the meager belongings his parent’s left him. Most of it was his father’s so he ended up selling his possessions. He kept the few things his mother had, but most of it was sold off to support his dad’s drug habit. Later on, he did the same with his father’s possession. An eye for an eye.

               Cross glowered down at his father’s grave for a good moment or two, his gaze softened a little bit when his eyes moved over to his mother’s.

               “Long time no see,” Cross sighed, keeping his eyes trained on his mother’s grave. He refused to make stupid conversation with his old man…even if he was dead and couldn’t talk back.

               “I managed to knock anyone up or die in a ditch. Though you’ve probably noticed that anyway. I also acquired a brat of my own. I think you would’ve liked him on your more lucid days. He taught me a lot. He’s also annoyed me a lot. He’s a weird little boy but very talented. Sorry Ma, I should stop by more. I haven’t been able to get over my shit with the old man yet. Still, that isn’t being fair to you. Maybe if the brat decides to want to see Mana a lot more, I’ll come by more. Introduce him to you.”

               “As for you, you smarmy ass bastard. You can forget about it. You should be thankful the city gives enough of a shit about you to keep the grass around your gravestone mowed,” Cross spat, his attention shifting to his father’s grave, “I hope that in whatever circle of hell you are in you are watching me do a better job than you ever had at being a father. I hope it tears you up inside. I am thankful that you’ll never get the chance to see Allen. You’ve already done enough damage to one kid. So, keep watching me. I’ll show you how a real man is supposed to be.”

               “See you Ma. Sorry you had to see that,” Cross growled as he finally stalked off to go check on his kid.

~

               When Cross approached Mana’s resting place, the kid was frozen in place, staring off into space. That’s what he thought might happen during their visit today. Cross sighed and walked over to kneel beside the child.

               “Allen? Hey kid? Kid?” Cross asked, smacking Allen’s face lightly. Allen jolted back in surprise and fear as he was brought back to reality. He blinked up at Cross, his eyes still looked dazed.

               “You doing okay?” Cross asked, reaching up to move some hair out of the younger’s face. Allen shrugged. He didn’t trust himself to speak in fear he would start crying. Cross hummed, not believing Allen for a single moment but deciding not to push him into talking.

               “Alright,” Cross said, deciding to shift himself so he was sitting behind Allen. He continued to run his fingers through his hair to hopefully keep Allen comforted. Even if the brat wasn’t outright sobbing, he was still going through a lot of pain. He just wished he would let himself feel the emotions he was experiencing instead of stuffing them. It’s not like he had any room to talk since he did the same exact thing, but he wanted the kid to feel better instead of worse. He was an adult where it was normal to stuff one’s emotions (even if it wasn’t healthy. Allen was a child; he shouldn’t have to stuff his emotions and hopefully his generation will learn to continue not to do so as they grew older.

               “You know it’s okay to cry,” Cross said after several moments of silence. Allen had his eyes closed, and had his head leaned back to enjoy Cross’s ministrations. He didn’t look content though. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was seeing things behind his eyelids that he didn’t want to see. It was hard not to think of Mana or the tiny fragments that Allen could remember from the accident as he sat by his grave. It was harder to control the horrible memories that blossomed up behind his eyes without mercy. It was a struggle to try and keep his emotions in check

               Allen’s bottom lip trembled before putting his head down, “I don’t want to cry…”

               “Why? You may feel a little better once you do.”

               “Cuz it hurts…” Allen sniffled. He hated feeling his chest hurt or the headache afterwards. He hated spiraling down into such a hurtful kind of pain that made him feel like he was going to die from it. He hated Cross touching him. He hated being here. He hated seeing Mana’s dead corpse behind his eyes. He hated hearing the thunder in his head and see the painful flashes of lightning. He hated feeling so cold when it was a lovely, sunny, spring day out.

               “Yeah, but it hurts more to bury it. It just gets worse and worse” Cross advised, deciding to push Allen a little bit. I mean the kid was teetering on the edge and he’d rather him get it out of his system now than later on. Cross grabbed Allen, setting him on his lap as he began to rock slowly. Allen’s sniffling grew louder. Allen gave a long whine before trying to hide himself in Cross’s armpit to try and make the icky feelings go away. With a choked sob the dam broke and Allen became a quaking, wailing mess.

               “There we go,” Cross said, rubbing Allen’s back and adjusting him so he would stop trying to suffocate himself against his body. The way the kid was wailing made Cross’s eyes sting a little with unshed tears, but he was determined to hold himself together. God, when the kid cried, he could really cry sometimes. The wails sounded like they were coming from someplace deep inside and it wasn’t often Cross heard such pain coming from the little boy’s throat. It was the type of crying that the movies always tried to make painfully beautiful, but in reality, it was ugly and painful to watch. It was the type of crying that left you purple in the face, that sounded like someone was suffocating on the pain that threatened to drown them alive. It both terrified and hurt Cross to hear it because no child should have to wail like that. No parent liked to hear their kid wailing in pain, even if it did them good to get rid of that pain.

               “I know….I know….you’re okay…it’s okay,” Cross cooed, his own painful flashbacks trying to rear their ugly head. He remembered being a snot nosed brat and crying like this, but there wasn’t anybody there to hold him. There were only people there to hit him across the face, telling him to shut up before they gave him something to cry about. There was screaming that threatened to outmatch his own cries of rage and pain.

               It felt like eons until Allen began to calm down instead of choking on his own sobs. His eyes were swollen and his little cheeks were a bright angry red. His throat was raw, his face felt sticky and disgusting. It felt a lot easier to breathe though. Well, aside from the stuffy nose and the pounding headache, his chest felt lighter, which made it feel easier to breathe. Meanwhile Cross kept rocking him, whispering to him and easing him back from the stormy waters in his head to calmer seas. Allen whined when Cross pulled him away to grab his shirt to try and clean off his face. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was to bury his face into Cross’s chest and fall asleep.

               “Do you feel better now that you got all that crap out of your system?” Cross asked after he cleaned up Allen’s face. Allen could only offer up a huge yawn in response as he leaned forward, back against Cross.

               “Alright. We’ll head home. You should say bye to Mana though.”

               Allen whined, not wanting to leave Mana. He was too tired to voice his thoughts though.

               “We’ll come back to see him another day, okay? I think he’d like you to rest at home for now. Besides, he has the dog keeping watch on his grave now, so he’ll be okay until we come back.”

               That made a little sense to Allen’s tired, child-like mind. He had Allen the dog to protect his grave now until Allen came back. Still, he was reluctant to say goodbye, managing a little wave and keeping his eyes open until he couldn’t see his grave anymore as Cross carried him back to the car.

(Hahaha…I didn’t cry like a little bitch at all while making this…not at all…haha…heh. Anyways, upcoming drabbles, I still got one that is currently almost done, another bit of Linkllen that needs a lot more editing, the amusement park draft that is currently not done but started. I also have Krory and Miranda’s date on the back burner, Cross chaperoning a field trip as one drabble idea, another one where Cross takes Allen to his first concert. If you all have anymore suggestions or ideas to add, feel free to comment them or message me!)

[reversecreek]

clicks onto the dash wearing kitten heels n coyly holding my bang....... hi. me again. it took me so long to select a gif to use on cricket’s intro n i settled on this one bc he looks so unsure abt his smile n it’s rly his essence <3 u can find his pinterest board here n his (work in progress) spotify playlist here. hmu to plot!!! 

* alex wolff, cis male + he/him | you know cricket donahue, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to should have known better by sufjan stevens like, a million times this year, which slipping on wet leaves to photograph a tree struck alight by lightning, delivering a tedtalk to your own reflection to hype yourself up to buy groceries, hiding your hands inside of your sleeves in case you grew an impromptu megan fox thumb overnight thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 1st, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

cricket ws born to a couple tht lived in lilac ridge. their trailer was tucked closest to the woods n always fell under the shade. it was like the leaves wanted to pretend they were a perpetual hanging cloud on the family n that was kind of fitting. their only reason fr having him in the first place was a kind of shrugged like........... we’re under the income bracket we’d get child benefits so why not! may as well try it to rake in some extra cash! needless to say they didn’t rly think it thru or anticipate all of the responsibilities tht came w children n wound up seeing him as an extremely large burden n boy didn’t he know it!

(child neglect & abuse tw) i’ll try to keep this part vague n brief but things were Not Good for cricket growing up. people in lilac ridge didn’t like his parents n it was for a gd reason. he remembers foggy things. being little n wandering around combing the grass with a stick to search for wrappers to suck on bc he was hungry. feeling uneasy when the front door opened. finding out his name was cricket bc the insects used to crawl into their trailer thru the vents n his parents liked to squish them into the carpet -- his mum told him as much once. i think this says a lot. to excessively trim the fat of the story he wound up entering the system at around 8 after his latest and most serious hospital visit. his parents hd to deal w the authorities n last he heard they bounced to evade charges.

(anxiety & violence & trauma tw) cricket sustained a few lifelong injuries from his time in lilac ridge. his knee didn’t heal right which meant he had (n still has to this day) a limp n he’s partially deaf in one ear. he’s always been an incredibly insecure n anxious person so this mde him rly self conscious going into a strange n new environment tht wld b difficult fr any kid to adjust to, nvm w these added worries. he jst felt like something weird to ogle at honestly. he probably wld have felt like that no matter where he was or what he looked like. he cld be in a huge hall of 200 people all wearing the same uniform n he’d still feel like the odd one out. needless to say this didn’t rly help him make friends

cricket’s coping mechanisms were romanticising the things tht other people found ugly or embarrassing or painfully ordinary. he liked it when the rain hit clunky drops against school windows n forbid everyone from playing outside bc he could feel the vibrations through the rubber soles of his shoes n it was a little bit like hearing all of the world at once fr just a moment. he liked medieval fantasy lore about stout gnomes w crumbs in their beards n cheeks red from ale. he liked fallen nests with the remnants of hatched eggs still dirty from the branches n soil they’d hit on the way down. he liked the way the sunlight leaked thru the leaves of the trees in the woods and how, when he sat very still, he could tune into the ringing that was always in his ear n pretend it was coming from the same place, that light thru the leaves, that the angels were trying to talk to him.

he spent a lot of time in the red room at his high skl (i’m begging u this is not a 50 shades reference) (after googling i jst realised it’s called a darkroom bt i’m leaving this fr the sake of sexy bimbo authenticity) n felt quite at home in there. he borrowed a camera whenever he cld (maybe he did yearbook) n photography became his way of immortalising the world as the romanticised version he wanted it to be. his memories were bad bt his photos were beautiful. maybe if he took enough they’d paste over n bleed into each other. maybe bad cld be replaced w beautiful if he tried his very best.

he got placed into fostering w a family once bt apparently didn’t meet the vibe check of their tastes so he wound up returning to the group home he’d initially been placed in. overall this is where he grew up n he aged out the system rather than getting adopted. there was a sense of floundering/isolation/not feeling gd enough in tht bt cricket made do the best he knew how. 

that said there were some gd points! (shocking i kno bc his life hs been so fking bleak so far bt please it’s ok........) (is it?) (🤔). basically he interned as an assistant at this local photography studio during high skl working under this kind of whimsical yet endearing old man. suspected wizard possibly in cricket’s eyes, as an avid fantasy genre reader. for one of his bdays said old man / his boss bought him his very own film camera n cricket cried bc he’d never been bought a bday gift. this ws rly embarrassing bc this old man didn’t know how to emote n neither did cricket so he ws jst sort of sat wiping his eyes n sniffling saying he wasn’t crying as the old man pretended to suddenly clean his lenses. when cricket graduated he offered him a full time position there. they do like. wedding photographs n family portraits n all kinds of things...... pay isn’t huge bt it’s something n he Loves taking photos so it’s sexy <3

PERSONALITY:

SUCH an anxious person it’s actually unreal. overthinks absolutely everything he’s ever said. one morning he might hv put green socks on n for the rest of the day he’s nervously looking around like omggggggg they’re all looking at my socks probably thinking im a little green sock boy thinking i’m a fool n a jester this is all everyone’s probably thinking about i hv to hide my green socks..... even tho literally no-one cares

once saw a girl eating a chicken wing n in his head was like ok she likes chicken good future gift idea..... n turned up at her house with an entire rotisserie chicken

probably thinks WAY too hard abt what to write in bday cards n googles like generic ideas that he can use.... u open a card from cricket n it always says smthn weird like “Warmest wishes and love on your birthday and always!” or “You deserve everything happy. Wishing you that all year long!” tht he got off google

nervously fiddles w things a lot. literally anything. his hair. the cuffs of his sleeves. a thread on his bag. u name it

struggles w eye contact sometimes............ it’s like. he wants to talk to ppl n make friends bt he’s honestly so bad at it. he’s fumbling thru life like a nervous headless chicken

ALWAYS has his camera on him. like always. will tke a photo of u bc he thinks u look nice then be like im so sorry im so sorry...... bowing his head shakily holding his camera bc he doesn’t even kno what possessed him he jst thought it’d be a nice photograph bt boundaries exist. probably breathes very heavily over this later in his room panicking thinking he nw seems like hannibal lecter

probably more confident online bc he has time to think abt what he says more.......... i can see him hving a group of online friends tht he’s more confident w. honestly he’s pretty witty at heart he jst has a hard time verbalising things so ppl overlook him sometimes bt once u get to know him more / he’s more comfy he can b a funny little man.....

loves photographs where he cuts something out of them. loves missing spaces n voids. thinks it’s a rly interesting concept when something that isn’t there becomes the focus of a photograph where everything else is. probably loses his mind fr a collage like a front row 1d stan. likes experimenting w light n perception. pretty artistic honestly hs probably made a stop motion film in the past bc that’s just an extended form of photography in his mind bt i doubt he showed anyone

ummm...... very sweet bt like. he reminds me a lot of this quote. “he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.” feel like tht sums him up quite nicely

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone he met at a wedding: cricket probably ws forced to photograph a wedding fr his boss one time n it cld b interesting as a place to meet from that....... like. i can imagine either it being rly awkward maybe he accidentally spilled a drink on ur muse n was stuttering rly apologetic n it ws just a train wreck. or mayb they took pity on him or even (in a shocking turn of events) a shine to him n invited him to drink n dance. omgggg the thought of cricket trying to dance makes me wna die n probably mkes cricket wna hyperventilate bt idk maybe he went wild n let loose. mayb they wound up damaging the camera somehow. mayb they had to scramble to get another one n ur muse covered the cost n it was a strange late night excursion tht cricket thought about a lot since. cricket probably vowed to pay them bk somehow no matter what. idk. we can work things out. lots of diff options here. doesn’t have to b a wedding either can b any event tht required a photographer

ppl he went to school w: pretty self explanatory i suppose...... maybe they were frm completely different worlds..... mayb ur muse was popular n cricket was definitely not but they got paired fr an assignment n had to work on a project together....... mayb cricket asked ur muse on a date one time n it was completely embarrassing bc he didn’t realise they had a bf n it haunts cricket at night still bc he’s rly dramatic.... mayb ur muse felt sry fr him n ate lunch w him n inducted him into their group like a lost puppy finding a home.... world’s our oyster

neighbours from his brief time at lilac ridge: not to reference taylor swift but i’m gna reference taylor swift n say we cld do a seven inspired plot here. sighs a little..... then sighs a lot. he was here ages 0-8 so idk. we cld work out childhood plots perhaps....

sickening simp: i mean.............. cricket probably gets crushes on ppl so easily like just. anyone who’s the slightest bit nice to him.................. he’s a disgrace. ok i take it back. bt also please get it together freak............... i didn’t say that. he’d probably b extra nice to this person n try n pay close attention to things they liked so he cld get them little gifts. just a bit embarrassing n lovestruck bless his heart. wldn’t expect anything back tho honestly that just isn’t something he tends to do.

let’s go gays: cricket’s bi but he probably was rly in his head abt liking boys n tried to sort of squash it internally during his younger yrs...... i think he’s more comfy w it now MAYBE idk bt back then i picture him having a friend tht ws kind of like. similarly loserish as him perhaps (no offence to ur muse potentially filling this plot or cricket bt let’s face the facts) n they’d hang out n play games a lot n one time it jst kind of happened n he was like............. *struts in looking around sharply* What going on here? except not. bc it’s cricket. more like *shambles in looking around anxiously* What’s, uh... What’s... the happenings? S--... I’m sorry. (immediate apology for saying what’s the happenings bc nobody talks like that n it was an impulsive panic bc he didn’t know what else to say)

those who grew up in the system w him: maybe at the group home or i’d also like the family that fostered him n said sayonara. honestly i imagine the parents just thought he ws a bit too much of a handful / had too much baggage which is rly quite merciless n terrible but. if u think that aligns w ur muses home situation hmu......

um. can’t think of more bt just anything honestly. jst go wild.......