#yeah the devs actually just told me you can only hate her or make jokes about hating her After you complete all her quests

[nowis-scales]

Back to our regularly scheduled program on CF…

Last time, we left off with EdeIgard blaming the Church for the attack on Arianrhod, because here at the BE Strikeforce, taking accountability for how our decisions that affect other people is not where we shine!

(Emblems:

❃ = Positive, not a problem.

❋ = It is entirely neutral.

✾ = It’s a bit negative, but it’s told in a joking way.

✿ = It is negative and critical.

Remember to filter #Fódlan Fault Finding and #Shut up about Del as needed!)

✾ Yeah you’re probs never gonna get to kill me because I don’t think the people are gonna be chill with the imperialism ✾

❋ Me every day of my goddamn life. Not because of anything related to this route though, just like... Koto as a person. I have an anxiety disorder lol. I make unfunny jokes about it a lot. ❋

✾ Those are all excellent questions. We will not be answering those questions for you, Dorothea. The answers to some of them won’t make this route as sympathetic as it wants to be. ✾

✿ Caspar repeatedly assures her that he’s okay with how things are, and she’s like “no no no you don’t understand you’re a victim” and he just comes around like “yeah you admit when you make mistakes”.

Caspar, she’s still making the same assumption about you! Nothing has changed! Also this dialogue about “I admit to my mistakes” sounds like it was damn near lifted from the Ryoma/Corrin support, which is funny because even as a fellow dev’s pet, Ryoma actually acknowledges wrongdoing. Doesn’t get more than a slap on the wrist for it, mind you, but that’s more than EdeIgard gets… which is nothing. ✿

❋ I had a conversation with a friend about a fic idea I had for a sort of “Koto’s Own Wish Fulfillment Rewrite of Crimson Flower” told from the perspective of Petra, and while he liked my initial idea, he didn’t like that I wasn’t thinking of using the concept the story presents 97% of the time when it comes to the relationship between Petra and EdeIgard. I remember him saying that there “really isn’t much evidence that Petra’s unhappy”, and while I don’t think he’s wrong, the fact that there is any evidence is what draws me toward it. I know there are a lot of other points where the game tries to say that their relationship is actually super happy, and I don’t hate those, I just wish their relationship had actual complex feelings attached to it.

Cause if we just go for the route where they’re actually super besties and Petra’s struggles are related more to EdeIgard’s father, then it just becomes another instance of “nobody but Rhea can actually fully hate EdeIgard and anything bad that happens to others is not actually her fault”. The relationship would be compelling if there was more complex feelings associated with and given more depth, but with the way CF presents it, it seems kind of… flat, I suppose? Like anything it has done here, I just feel like Flora and Felicia can do it better, particularly because there’s two of them and each girl’s feelings can be fully realized — Petra can only feel as one person, and that one person has to be nice to Edie 97% of the time.

So if you ever feel like I’m discrediting the relationship between EdeIgard and Petra a bit, yeah, I recognize that I probably am! I don’t even actually dislike the way it’s presented! I just dislike that it’s presented this way in a game that already makes Edie kind of untouchable. I think it would be really cool for Edie’s “moral greyness” to actually bloom, rather than just being several layers of benevolent sexism. ❋

✾ Get our asses Dimitri

Also do they ever explain why he doesn’t have the eyepatch in CF, aside from being more mentally stable than in the other routes? ✾

❋ Rhea there has never been a good king/future king in this game series that hasn’t been willing to throw himself into danger, it's kind of a staple. ❋

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #20)

01/07/88  11:56 PM

Hey.

That first night was rough.

The following six would not be much better.

Honestly, most of my time spent in the dump has excused itself from my memory, on account of being so profoundly unremarkable and entirely unpleasant. I’m pretty sure I know what I did, but a large sum of the details are basically gone. Thankfully, none of it’s all that important, but I still feel like I should write down what I can recall. It’s kind of weird -- it feels like the more I write, the more I remember. Maybe once all’s said and done, I should try keeping a journal or some corny crap like that. A real one.

‘Dunno if I could stay regular on it without the added benefit of pretending to talk to you.

Anyway. Seven-ish days, I stayed there, and each day, relations with Wreck-it stayed just as strained, clipped, and awkward as the day before. I found out on the first morning that he had a strike system in mind -- I break three rules, that’s three strikes, that’s my ass hitting the road. Of course, I found out about this shortly after making my first strike. Literally seconds into the first day. 

I hadn’t slept at all, being too sick and anxious and plagued by a snoring gorilla. So, when he woke up, before he could even stand, he was greeted by a violation of Rule #2:

“Hey, Maestro, what’s it like havin’ an entire brass section lodged in your nose?”

Then he, let’s say, ‘explained’ that I’d just struck one of three.

The second strike was not long for this world, either. Just hours later, I’d break Rule #5, completely by accident.

Business was pretty slow that day, being so early in the School Year (I heard some things here and there about so-and-so’s throwing First Day of School parties, but there was no festival this year -- not in the climate for it, I guess). Fix-it had a fair amount of free time between gamers, and made the incredibly ill-advised decision to try to talk to me. I was curled up on my pillows trying very hard to sleep when I heard him climbing up the bricks, calling out cautiously, “Mavy? Are you here?”

I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed a brick and tossed it in the direction of his voice. I then heard a yelp, a handful of Nicelander gasps, those tumbling sound effects, and that morbid little funeral drone. I didn’t expect to actually hit him, let alone K.O. him. He’s so damn easy to K.O., it’s like cracking an egg.

Regardless of it being an accident, regardless of the fact that Fix-it was assuring everyone he was fit as a fiddle seconds later, regardless of the fact that Wreck-it wasn’t even in the dump at the time, but watching from the roof of Niceland, it was a strike. So I had one left until I was out on my ass. I really had to pull it together in that regard. And I did, sort of.

I spent each day more or less the same: Looking for distractions that didn’t break any rules, puking, and trying to sleep.

I wandered around when I could. I took sporadic catnaps. I took very, very cold baths in the river, which I did not miss doing at all, but I certainly couldn’t use the showers in your game anymore. I drew sketches of the gamers’ faces as they played. I spent lots of time hugging a bucket. I very quietly played my guitar, more for the motion than the music. I snuck into the building from behind and raided apartments during gameplay, stockpiling food and water as my appetite slowly came back. It was all repetitive, futile, and not nearly enough to distract me the way I needed. I wanted buffs so, so bad. Even a drink. But for the life of me, I could not leave the game.

I tried many times, often several times in a day. I’d go stand at our dinky little train station, staring at the dinky little train I’d have to use as a newfound ground-dweller, and shiver. I’d pace. I’d kick the train, usually. It was so demeaning and frustrating. Nobody can keep me locked up. Yet there I was, too afraid to leave my own Dev-damned game out of fear that I’d be murdered. That had to be exactly what my attacker wanted me to feel. Just crippling, paralyzing fear. She may not have killed me, but maybe she was counting on other ways to make me disappear. And there I was, giving her what she wanted.

Wreck-it, on the other hand, left the game nightly to go to Tapper’s, right after closing. He’d check in with me beforehand, and it’d be the same each time.

He’d say, “Hey. Holdin’ up okay?”

I’d say, “Yup.”

He’d say, “Think you might leave soon?”

I’d say, “Hopefully.”

He’d say, “I’m going to Tapper’s, if you’re interested.”

I’d say, “No, thanks.”

End scene.

Word for word, the same every night. Those were really our only brief windows of communication, right up until the fifth night, after he had come back from Tapper’s and settled in. 

The withdrawals had cleared up by then, but, needless to say, I still didn’t feel too good. I’d been stuck in there for nearly a week, feeling more broken and pathetic than I’d ever felt in my life. Everything was weighing down so, so hard, it was like I could barely breathe. Being unable to find you, nearly being murdered, being villainized, practically losing my brush -- it all had me cornered. There was nowhere to run. I was wishing so deeply for a way out. So, like I’ve done countless times before, I stared out into the arcade through the screen, trying to imagine a reality where I could break out and leave all of this behind.

The thing is, though, I’d only ever dreamed of that when no one else was around. This time, I was peering over the mound of bricks that I’d been sleeping behind, barely ten feet from Wreck-it’s stump. I was lying there for Devs know how long before, completely by accident, a question slipped from my mouth.

“What do you think it’s like out there?”

Wreck-it jumped. “Huh?”

I jumped. “What?”

“What’d you say?”

I felt my face burn up. I couldn’t have that conversation, not with him. I slipped back down the bricks to my privacy, and instinctively grabbed my guitar. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

Wreck-it didn’t press, but I didn’t expect him to. It was the heavy, awkward silence after that I was worried about, so, without a second thought, I started playing my guitar. I’d played quietly while Wreck-it was around a few times before, and he didn’t seem to mind. Up until that point, though, I’d been silent on the vocals, because… y’know, I guess I just didn’t feel much like singing since you’d left. But in my panic, I started singing the first thing that popped into my head. It was this song I’d started writing about a concrete world and a neon storm. It wasn’t done. I’d forgotten most of it. It was a freakin’ mess -- eventually, I just gave up. I sighed and started plucking no tune in particular. Me and my unpredictable mouth.

That’s when Wreck-it piped in again, casually.

“Was that a new one?”

I cringed. “Yeah. It’s... not done.”

He paused. “It was nice. When it’s done, you should play it at Tapper’s.” He paused again. “...Y’know, after… things die down a bit.”

“...Yeah, right. As if I’ll ever play there again. Certainly not at Qix, either.”

“No?”

“No. Sprites at Qix are there for a good time, and I’m not super conducive to those anymore, so… even if it ever opens up again, I’m off the setlist.”

Qix had, indeed, been barred from the public not too long after the incident. It had become even more of a hotspot for buff use and dealing. Hardly stopped users and dealers from finding new places for it, but, still, the arcade lost its one and only nightclub. So that was grand.

“And, as for Tapper, I kinda doubt he wants the arcade’s most hated sprite playing at his bar.”

“Tapper still likes you,” he said. “I mean, he even talked about you the other night, said he’d run into you at the memorial. Wanted to know how you were doing.”

It was true -- I had met Tapper briefly at the memorial, and I remembered that he said that I was always welcome in his game if I needed company. It really was a sweet thing, looking back. But I didn’t take him seriously at the time, ‘cause I still thought it was a big joke. And after that, I definitely made him regret his offer. All I’d done at Tapper’s was drink myself violent and end up throwing punches and breaking glass. I was certain that he’d changed his mind and started hating me like everyone else. That thought really stung.

I waited, for a moment. “...What did you tell him?”

“I just told him I wouldn’t know.”

“Good,” I nodded, “good.”

We were both quiet for a long while, before words slipped out of me again. “I’m gonna miss that bar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… whether Tapper likes me or not, I’m… bad for business, now. I could draw sprites in with my music, before, but, now… Even if he says I’m welcome there, I’m not really. It’s not entirely up to him.” I sighed, and felt my voice drop so low, it practically dragged. “I’m not welcome anywhere, anymore, so… that’s great.”

“Nowhere at all?”

I said, “Nope. Didn’t you say yourself that I’m trouble? Big trouble? Everyone seems to think that. Bigger trouble than anyone can deal with nowadays.”

Once again, we were both silent for a moment. I’d stopped playing, reduced to flicking one string with my thumb, just enough to hear it.

I heard Wreck-it take a deep breath behind me. He paused, and then, in a slow, awkward voice, said, “Well… Yeah, maybe, but… You don’t scare me, kid.”

I wished that could have made me feel better. It was, objectively, a pretty decent thing to say, and another sprite probably would have been very comforted by the chance of an ally in this mess, or at the very least, someone with something resembling loyalty. But it just made me feel worse. I felt too smart to believe any of that crap could last. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d change his mind. I’d always figured that sooner or later, everyone would decide I’m too much. That was just the way of things. 

However, given my bleak circumstances, I had little choice but to accept his… tolerance while it lasted. Having someone on my side, even for just a little while, seemed like it could have proven helpful.

So, after a long, sullen silence, I just went back to plucking idly on my guitar. “Good to know you’re not as dumb as you look, then.”

His breath caught in disbelief for a second, before he dropped right back into growling, “Name-calling. Watch it.”

“It was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, a super backhanded one.”

I closed my eyes, trying to play myself to sleep. “Just take it, pal. I don’t got that many kind words to share, so I gotta ration them out wisely.”

He grumbled. “You would call that kind.”

“I do. Now, can we cut the yammerin’ and sleep?”

“Fine. Yeesh.”

He slept. I didn’t. Not ‘til midday the following day, anyway. I fell asleep during gameplay hours, and woke up just after closing when Wreck-it stomped his big ol’ stumps up the bricks. We had the usual pre-Tapper’s exchange, ending, of course, with me refusing his offer to come along. I was tired as hell, and I still wasn’t ready to go out there.

But, as I quickly discovered, it didn’t matter if I was ready or not.

I’d been in a fitful sleep for what must have been barely half an hour when Wreck-it’s feet woke me up again. This time, he came around behind my bricky knoll to stand next to me, towering with this look on his face that I didn’t like at all.

He said, “Hey kid, guess what.”

“I’m being evicted?”

“No,” he grinned in a way I couldn’t read -- don’t really see him smile that often, honestly, “but you are leaving. You’re going to Tapper’s!”

I was not following. “Uh… ‘kay, you do know that I said ‘no thanks’, right? That’s a thing you remember?”

“Yup, yup, I do. But listen to this -- I talked to Tapper for you, and all that stuff you said about him hating you or -- or, y’know, all that --” he shook his head, “-- not true. He misses you, kid. You gotta get out there and show him you’re alive.”

I felt my face burn up.

“You-- You--” I sprung to my feet, “You TOLD HIM I’M STAYING WITH YOU!?”

He put his hands on his hips nonchalantly. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

“HOW-- WHEN I SPECIFICALLY SAID NOT TO?! THAT WAS RULE NUMBER ONE!!”

“Ah, ah,” he pointed, “polite request number one, and, request denied.”

I’d have throttled his fat neck if my fingers could fit around it.

“WHY’D I WASTE MY TIME BEING POLITE, THEN, LARD-FACE!?”

He seemed thoroughly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m gonna let that one slide, because you can bellyache all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been in here way, way too long, kid.”

“QUIT CALLING ME KID! I’M GONNA LEAVE, OKAY! SOON! ON MY OWN!”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you were going to,” he nodded in a condescending sort of way that made me want to hurl a brick between his eyes, “but now you get to leave with me, right now.”

“NO, I DON’T!”

“You said you’re here ‘cause you had nowhere else to go, right? Well, now you’ve got somewhere else to go, so get up off my bricks, and come go to the bar like I know you’ve been dying to do all week.”

He wasn’t wrong. But I was so angry. And I was still so scared.

“I DON’T WANT TO GO, AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

His eyebrows raised for a second, and he shrugged. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this.”

Then the colossal bastard grabbed me. Me, as in, my entire body, in one of his huge, meaty paddles he calls hands. It’s not that he’s never done that before, but it’s always been to throw me, and lasted only a second. This time, he started walking down the bricks, with the clear intention of just carrying me the entire way to Tapper’s. His code is still less dense than that of Fix-it, but that prolonged contact still made my binary crawl. Devs, did it crawl.

So, after a quick burst of threats and shrieking, I conceded. I agreed to go with him if he would just put me the hell down. He dropped me, I ran back to grab my book bag, and we trudged to the train. The way he walked behind me made me feel like he was marching me to some grim fate. Some grim, unnatural, unspeakably awkward fate.

As much as I lamented being reduced to riding the train like a chump, seeing the way his massive ass just barely fit into one of the cars was pretty rewarding.

Once we started rolling, he told me, “You know it’ll do you good to get out. You’re just not coded for life in a box, kid.”

I don’t remember if I sighed or gave the flattest laugh of my life. “Yeah, tell that to the Devs. And for cuss’ sake, quit calling me kid.”

In all truthfulness, as scared as I was, I really was so relieved at a chance to finally leave. And as much as I hated not being able to do it on my own, I was, admittedly, glad to have a second pair of eyes. It was probably a pretty decent thing of him to do, scouting out a safe place for me to go. Even if I really, really didn’t want or ask for it.

But I’m still pissed at him for denying my incredibly polite request.

[abbeyfangirl]

dragon age: all characters (companions)

I’ve been in this fandom for a hot minute now and I want to update my opinions on characters :)

Origins

Alistair: super sweet dude who literally is not the stereotypicalchantryguyfightme. He’s a great example of healthy masculinity and I totally wish he was bi because I have an entire essay on that— also: he’s a poc! His mum was brown. In game he’s got dark features. if you really want a blond/blue-eyes/white guy, make your warden that. or accept that brown people can be noble and moral. or just draw cailan, idk. just because BioWare whitewashes doesn’t mean you should.

Leliana: someone hug my singing girlfriend before I crush her under with my own hugs. Also: nugs. Yes! Shoes. Yes! She likes how I style my hair? YES!! I honestly think she’s super duper and it pisses me off whenever someone’s like: yeah she enjoys killing people and the Game. ok. and michel de chevin willingly participated in genocidal marches through the alienage he grew up in with his elvhen mum. 

Morrigan: dirty swamp witch that i stan and also have a v big crush on. tiddies. Have a son with a GW so we can raise him with our tiddies out in the forest. she’s also white-passing, as her father was chasind and all people we’ve seen that are chasind are black. therefore, she is biracial. therefore, poc can be goths and don’t shy away from giving morrigan a darker skintone. if the devs had of been thinking, she’d have a darker skintone.

Zevran: Actually is the best romance, I think. Loves consent, therefore I will stan him so hard my skull cracks a little. Also: he is a very brown boy and if he’s white in da4 I’m seriously going to throw all canon out the fucking window. genuinely a good person who needs to be told so. 

Wynne: grandma who only likes my friends who go to church. but also super sweet and I’d rest my head on her bosom (in a platonic way omg ZEVRAN)

Sten: angry quiet boi. the bestest boi. I totally would give him a kitten for a gift and bake him cookies. Thicc softie. I think if I had DA:O and i knew how to use mods i would mod the fuck outta him. sorry.

Sha(y)le: who’s gender? idk her. See also: fuck birds and authority. pound ur ass into the ground you feathery meatbag little shits. fuck songbirds.

Dog: such a good boi. thicc. thinks Alistair is a whiny fuck and is Morrigan’s only friend. love him. he’s the cutest companion. bet.

Ohgren: honestly forgot about him bcc he’s such a shitbag. also: he could’ve been a really cool addiction recovery type but NOPE. probably would have a trump shirt in a modern au and would catcall wlw and hit mlm. no thanks.

Awakening

Anders: he acts like rlly straight but he’s so gay I can smell it. also he’s rlly cute and fun and I love him so much.

Justice: MAYBE i’M selF CONSCious OF THE twitchING. is the friend that genuinely doesn’t get dick jokes but is ur 110% ride or die.

Nathaniel Howe: honestly is sort of a white knight/neck beard a little, but it’s kind of charming with his whole velanna m’lady?? grump boi. annoying soul patch that I’d mod out SO FAST—

Sigrun: would have ROMANCED the FUCK out of her. why she even entertains the idea of fucking with ohgren makes me realize most of the writers are dumbfucks.png. peppy little emo. 12/10 would die if she kissed my cheek teasingly.

Ohgren: why. why. why. I’d have brought Shayle over. Maybe Zev? Definitely Dog.

Velanna: she was written to be an annoying feminist and you can tell but I deadass am a kindred spirit with her bcc I too am deadpan annoyed with Thedas’ general population too. love her. Would’ve loved to romance her. She’d totally be one of those who’d get all tsundere and be like “n-no i hate you” *kisses the fuckin soul out of you then blushes so hard she’s now a tomato*

Dragon Age II

Anders: fuck the cops. i don’t care. fuck the cops. (vine reference). also: do i hate him for blowing up the chantry that would eventually annul a huge collection of his people? no. read dalishious’s meta on Anders. v intriguing. didn’t they retcon the fuck out of the reported deaths too? like there was like eight Templars and Elthinia in there. Templars killed more “abominations” in a day than Anders in the game canon—

Aveline: initially thought she was fine and then realized she’s shit to my lil brother and I will fucking clap her ginger ass. See also: whorephobia isn’t a joke so fuck off with treating Isabela badly, you tit.

Bethany: sunshine. Literal sunshine. I feel my freckles grow in her presence and i love it. she’s my little baby sister and I’d slam that ogre so fuckin hard before it touched either twin.

Carver: there has to be a mod where both twins survive. I love them both to bits. My babies. carver is my bitter, angry little brother and I can relate because I too am very angry and would totally clap my own ass. hes so genuine and I don’t get the competition between Beth and Carver. Like, both are fuckin stellar in different ways. In this essay I will—

Fenris: honestly, I don’t get the general hate between him and Anders. Fenris’ main arc should’ve been a recovery arc, not drunken moping and revenge. he deserves better. give him a soft sweater instead of his spikes and let him love himself as much as I love him for MAKERS SAKE. like when you really think about their relationship, it could’ve been an eye-opener for fenris and finally some legit sympathy for anders. but we all know that if they had of teamed up that Meredith would’ve been dead before the end of Act 1 so.

Isabela: whorephobia is not a joke. oversexualizing your only appearing brown woman is so poorly written. how about we appreciate her and her lovely bosoms but also let people tease her about her heart of gold? her innate understanding of freedom? instead of just a wave of dick? please?? can we give her some pants for when she fights? can we accept that i fall for rogues who hate themselves?? fuck. also whomever draws her x femHawke x Merrill literally is after my own heart.

Merrill: my fucking babygirl MARRY ME. Fenris could’ve been her older brother type, but NO. she and Isabela should’ve been canonical gfs instead of Isabela/Fenris (no shaming the pairing tho!!). I love how she’s written as neurodivergent. V nice. Sometimes I just look her up and cry because she’s fucking everything. Also: she’s in the Dalish origin and she’s far from being white. Why did they make the most innocent/naïve character really white? hmmmm.

Sebastian: whew that boy. Would totally be that annoying Mormon at your door but you still let him in bcc he’s super sweet. Also: huge ass bible thumper and should get his head slap because you said the maker loved all his children why do you defend a complicit old hag you annoying attractive fuck—

Varric: totally is a bard and the devs couldn’t handle the idea of him being one bcc it might make him look less straight. is the only grey morality person I don’t want to fucking bash in with a fry pan. he sees people and I like that, but you totally know he’s siding with mages every time bcc him and Anders are like besties. I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules. “Professional Younger Brother”.

Tallis: I know nothing about her but she seems okay. I think she was an escaped slave and honestly? Fucking props. Spy on a shitting organization, idk what you’re doing, but your VA was that cool lesbian from SPN so I think ur okay?

Inquisition

Blackwall: Redemption Arc 101. Love him to bits. Sad dad bunwall. good man. actually atoned for his sins by actively becoming a good person. his initial design is 80% hotter im so sorry but so not.

Cassandra: was way browner in the last game. would romance the fuck outta her. I love me a butch lady who melts at my dorky recitation of poetry. BioWare is a coward. also is the worst choice for divine. but not a bad person. could use some more guidance or get her ass whipped by a dalish elf about religion or a circle mage kid whos like “yeah bud i didn’t ask for the templars to whip my ass everyday for existing.”

The Iron Bull: I think the Qunari/Vashoth were a little based off black people (the whole anti blackness thing where ppl are scared of them bcc of whatever reason) and it pisses me off that he had a weird ass dubcon thing with Dorian in banter. It doesn’t make sense— he’s an A+++ dom and would not jump straight in role play without at least checking in at first like wtf BioWare.

Cole: his mother was chasind so he’s like not supposed to be that white? or like biracial? albino? idk. love him to bits tho. He’s neurodivergent and I deadass love him. romancing him? idk. I see why ppl think it’s fuckin nasty but also like as a writer I’d age him the fuck up so fast before my inquisitor even THOUGHT about that. like idk. I’m down with him being a sweet little bro character tho. he’s a babe. love him.

Sera: had the worst fucking writer I’ve ever seen and I willingly read the twilight saga twice by a shit ass racist white lady who okay’d pedophilia. like. Fuck you Kristjanson suck your own dick you fuck. had the worst options in regards to speak to her. has a thicc case of internalized racism that literally most of the fandom just loves to use against her. my lesbian neurodivergent queen. Would write a thousand fix it fics for her. Love her to bits. im gay.

Varric: I haven’t played DA2 so i don’t get why everyone wants to romance him but like. a dwarf romance? yes please. Idk he reminds me of my uncle so I only see him as fun uncle material. Deadass should adopt Cole and Merrill and co parent with Blackwall for Sera. dads? fuck yeah. love me some wholesome, present fathers.

Dorian: is a gay stereotype that I love/hate so much. and he’s also just as bad about being a creep bcc he sexualizes qunari men (in banter). I attribute that to shit writing tho. I want to protect him from all the “omg gay best friend!” people. he’d clearly be that tired gay that wouldn’t give a diddly damn about ur het romance. wanna talk about politics? he’s ur guy/gay.

Solas: “me, an intellectual:”. I don’t hate him, but I’m not about him. He comes off as mysterious and suave (which he totally is) but I deadass would not save him from himself because he’s a racist, exclusionist eggshell. idk. not my cup of tea, but I can totally see the appeal. And he’s interesting, I’ll totally say that. “I think the Dalish are garbage but they made you” is not a compliment. it’s so offensive. and such bait for “quirky girls” which I’m no fan of. Would be Achilles and let Patroclus (Lavellan in his case) die before he realized how his pride is literally a waste of time. If he gets a redemption arc I hope Lavellan gets to slap him before getting him to teach all about ancient Arlathan and show that the Evanuris weren’t all total dicknozzles. (Aka I really have a hard time believing that they’d be slavery cult things. especially since they’ve compared elves to indigenous ppl, Jews and the Romani.)

Vivienne: it’s so racist that they’d make a black woman be pro-slavery. That’s such internalized racism. She could’ve been the cool ass “educate yourself first before you speak, fool” ice lady, but NO. the devs could’ve kept the “Templars are a tool that I proudly can mandate” and the “circles are very good education” and we. Could. Have. Romanced. Her. Like. Fuck. Sake. I just wanna give her a hug and say “love yourself omg!!” and not even in a romantic way. Also: she and morrigan should not have been so antagonistic towards each other. I’d expect them to have great respect for each other, as they both moved up in the world through hardwork and very little help. They could learn different magic from each other too and still maintain that rival respect “oh you” mood. Sidenote: probably the cooler option for Divine. if her approval is high enough she’ll love and be loyal to you forever and i can’t see her agenda being bad. she improves the circles exponentially and tells all the antis to suck her pretty painted toes.

Josephine: an actual disney princess. romanced her my first playthrough. I love her so much. she just makes me so happy. And she’s like: “Integrity, Loyalty, peace. That is what it means to be a GREY WARDEN good fucking person.” she’s the person who would let you hold her hand if you got anxious and she’d be that person who shouldered the whole group project with finesse and poise and would probably lie for everyone as to not be mean. i love josie. her and leliana’s relationship is so cute, too. whether it’s romantic or not: women supporting women.

Leliana: if you leave her hardened you must hate her. why. she becomes so against herself. i like how shes feminine and lighthearted because that’s so powerful-- to remain hopeful when the world is hopeless. (its hard to know when to soften her/harden her so i get it but. google it. she deserves to be happy and sweet again.)

Cullen: uwu war criminal with shit ass “redemption arc” that was actually a half-assed (at BEST) recovery arc. Recovery isn’t linear, it isn’t pretty, and even the broken need to be told they are wrong in order to heal right. Like I’m offended by that bullshit. I’ve had to do some mental health recovery in the past and unlearning lots of toxic ideologies— which I’m still unlearning— and it bothers me that he gets an easy pass because he’s hot. It’s one thing if you like Cullen, it’s another thing if you hold him accountable.

[wren-bishop]

Backyard - Devyn

@drunkcn

Devyn: devyn was already a few shots in before she even showed up to riley's place, having an aching feeling that she'd need to be somewhat buzzed. she made a b-line to the first person she spotted with a cup in their hand, snatching it from them and smiling. "this is just what i needed, how did you know?" she teased before taking a small sip.

Wren: Wren just let her take his cup, "I'm very good at what I do" said Wren pulling his flask out of his pocket and taking a sip so he wouldn't be without a drink. "How are you doing tonight? Have you seen Val anywhere?" he asked

Devyn: her eyes followed his hand as he pulled a flask from his pocket, smiling a bit wider once he started drinking from him. "you came prepared," she stated, clearly liking that fact. devyn shook her head, the corners of her lips turning under just a bit. "i've only been here five minutes, she's probably around here somewhere... probably making out with memphis somewhere."

Wren: "Nana says to always bring a flask" said Wren closing it back up. Wren did his best to stay calm on the outside, "Haha devyn, so funny" Wren replied, "She won't makeout with Memphis until way later in the party" he joked. Why did people keep trying to warn him about the two of them? Was there a good reason?

Devyn: "i like nana, she's a smart lady." she nodded her head, matter-of-factly. her expression fell, her eyebrows joining together in the middle. "who says i'm joking? didn't you hear about memphis cheating on kimmy with valerie? i mean, i know it's old news but the two of them clearly like each other." that was as much as she knew about the blonde's relationships, she was completely unaware that she was actually dating wren. "why do you wanna know where she is anyways, you got a thing for her?"

Wren: "I mean yeah I was around for that, but it was just about breaking them up it wasn't like a .. they like each other thing" said Wren with a shrug opening his flask back up and taking a sip. "We're dating" Wren added, realizing that Devyn just didn't know, made more sense why she was talking about Valerie and Memphis like that. He was still a little more nervous than when the night had started, and he didn't like that he hadn't seen her yet and that they hadn't come together at all.

Devyn: she inhaled deeply, eyes widening when she was informed of his relationship status to the girl in question. then her cheeks started to go red but she tried to hide her embarrassment by taking another sip from the cup she stole from him. "i didn't know that." she spoke into the glass before the liquid touched her lips. "that's a shame... i'm sure she's probably not with memphis. he's probably not even here, i don't think he even knows riley." devyn tried to backtrack, thinking it'd give wren a bit of peace of mind. "have you tried texting her?"

Wren: Wren smiled a little when the girl started to get red, "It's cool, Valerie's a very casual person" Wren replied. "Yeah, I just don't want to text her a bunch and seem like a loser" he added. He'd been working on keeping things restrained so he wouldn't come off as desperate towards Valerie, he was just so excited that someone actually liked him for once. He didn't know if he'd ever get that again, so he had to move smart about it.

Devyn: devyn rolled her eyes, reaching out to him to pat his arm reassuringly. "not texting your girlfriend would make you a loser, not texting her too much. my boyfriend never texts me, he's the biggest loser i know. if valerie thinks you're a loser for texting too much, then she's dumb and doesn't deserve you as her boyfriend."  it was something so silly to worry about but it also made dev sort of jealous, wanting that from her own boyfriend. "i'd send her a text to let her know where you are so she can find you, cos maybe she's around looking for you."

Wren: "I just don't want to like triple text her" explained Wren, "I text her a lot to begin with" he added. He kind of felt sorry for Devyn, he felt ignored by Valerie a lot too, "I'm sorry your boyfriends not blowing up your phone all the time, ask Val it gets annoying" Wren said with a shrug, "Yeah, maybe. I hope so." said Wren, when he was with Valerie everything was great, it was the in between times that were hard.

Devyn: her nose scrunched up as she shook her head, not wanting him to feel sorry for her for any reason. she didn't like when people took pity on her. "don't be sorry, he's not really the one i want blowing up my phone anyways." she didn't mean to say that, at least not the past part. and when she realized that the thought didn't actually stay in her head, she started laughing at herself , thinking it'd act as some sort of distraction. "anyways, i'm totally down to keep you occupied until she shows up if you want."

Wren: Wren completely acknowledged what she said, but he laughed it off with her just to give her the benefit of the doubt. "Yeah that sounds fun, we should refill my drink that is now your drink, and get me one too" said Wren with a kind smile as he led them towards the drink table on the porch. He took her cup and refilled it with punch and filled up a cup for himself. "Hows cheer going with Kelsey and the whole pregnant thing?" he asked

Devyn: devyn followed along, walking in line with him until they got to the refreshments. when he brought up kelsey, she couldn't help but smile and then laugh. "oh my god, this pregnancy is honestly the greatest thing. coach has basically benched her which probably means she won't be captain anymore chanel is basically next in line," at least in her opinion, "which i'm sort of on the fence about but she'd make a much better captain than kelsey does."

Wren: "I've heard a lot of different opinions" said Wren, "about the cheer captain thing" he clarified. "Don't you want to be captain?" he asked, considering everyone else he had talked to wanted to be captain.

Devyn: devyn didn't know people were actually talking about it, only because she didn't know if the coach was actually going to boot kelsey from the spot or not. she was just about to take a sip when she was asked if she wanted to be captain. instantly, she shook her head. "fuck that, no." she answered bluntly. "nobody on the team even really likes me, nobody would listen to me."

Wren: "I mean there's a big difference between being liked and being respected" Wren replied, "But I also get not wanting to be captain. I'll be happy whoever it is, like whichever of my friends gets it. I don't really have a huge problem with anyone on the team, but I know you guys have a lot of problems with each other ... from what I've been told" Wren continued, shutting himself up to take a long sip of his drink.

Devyn: she tilted her head to the side as she shrugged her shoulders. "well, yeah... she hates me for no reason. she tried to force me into a truce with her and threatened to tell people who my real dad is if i didn't agree." she sort of had loose lips when she drank, that was supposed to be a secret. devyn slowly looked at him, her expression mimicking shock at what she'd just told him. "can we pretend i didn't just say that?"

Wren: Wren was kind of shocked when Devyn let that one slide, "Yeah we can definitely pretend that you didn't just say that" said Wren taking a big gulp of his drink, "Don't worry I'm good with secrets" he replied. He put up his glass to hers, "Cheers?" he said trying to move their conversation past this.

Devyn: she stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to give him some sort of explanation but really, she didn't even know a whole lot of details. she knew just what happened and the name of her biological father. "thanks," devyn flashed him an awkward smile before taking a large gulp from her cup. "what are we cheering for?"

Wren: "For keeping secrets, and for not making me choose who I support for captain ... because I don't want to have to pick" said Wren, he liked Devyn a lot, she was really sweet. He'd heard a lot of stuff, but she was probably just confused between the two guys, and she was clearly hurting on a lot of fronts.

[knjfed]

OBLIVIOUS ↝ otis milburn

requested? ↝ yeah from a lil anon!

summary / the request ↝ can you do an imagine where the reader is jealous of maeve and otis jealous over some guy the reader is hanging out?? idk i know your good at making imagines,, pls do more otis content thanks!

thanks you for the request and kind words! i’ve been thinking about doing something like this for a while! hope you like it.

warnings ↝ fem!reader, cussing, and implied sexual content (again, not with otis smh)

ッッッ

you were listing to music as the teacher was speaking to the class. you could care less about what was going on since she was a shit teacher and already had it out for you.

you just about jumped out of your seat when you felt someone lightly tapped your shoulder, when you looked over to meet the face of the person that almost scared you to death you saw otis.

“hey, sorry. what’s up?” you spoke, pausing your music and putting your full attention on him. your eyes met his beautiful blue ones and you tried not to get distracted.

“uh— the teacher assigned partners for the project. you’re with devon..” he told you as his leg bounced lightly from under the table. you were thankful that you were partnered up with devon, but you’d rather otis.

you simply nodded and smiled his way. “thanks otis, who are you stuck with?” you questioned as you glanced around the class and saw devon talking to a girl named tabitha.

“i’m with maeve.” he replied right away. for some reason that sent a sick feeling to wash over you. him and maeve would be partners. she would be around him more than usual. he might actually make a move or she would.

you face dropped for a split second and you hoped he didn’t notice before you covered it with a convincing smile.

“oh, that’s cool. if she comes to your house try to hide all the sexual things, she might think you’re into some really odd things.” you chuckled, using humor to cover your real emotions yet again. at least it worked.

he rolled his eyes and shoved your chair back with his foot while you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

before you could say anything maeve walked up to the both of you, leaning against the desk you both were sat at. she smelled like cigarette smoke and it made your nose scrunch up in disgust for a moment before looking up at her.

“sorry to interrupt but i forgot to give you my address. you’ll need to come over for the project.” she spoke to otis, completely ignoring you. you glanced at otis and saw some blood rush to his cheeks and a shy smile form on his face. 

the feeling was back. your heart sank and you felt your face relax, you didn’t even know you were all tense with her around you and otis. without notice you grabbed a blue pen from your book bag and gripped it lightly.

swallowing the words wanting to come out you got up from your chair and moved past maeve, not caring if you shoved her a bit on ‘accident.’ 

otis was making it clear that he liked the girl, so why even bother with him when he could have her? you walked in front of devon’s desk and smiled down at him. 

he was your basic white boy with brown eyes and shaggy brown hair. you could have sworn he didn’t sleep for days at a time.

“hey, i was told we had been partnered up for the project. you can come over to mine around five. don’t be late.” you spoke, grabbing his arm lightly and pulling up his sleeve, writing down your address in the blue pen. 

you clicked the top of the pen and looked up at devon, he was wide eyed and had a dorky smile tugging at his lips. “yeah, yeah. got it. i’ll be there.” he said, did you make him flustered? 

the bell rang shortly after and you went back over to otis and noticed maeve was gone. you grabbed you book bag and waited for otis to grab his own bag. the look on his face didn’t go unnoticed. his eyebrows were furrowed and he had his jaw clenched. he quickly changed his expression when he saw you looking at him.

“you alright? the bell has rung. i don’t want to leave you behind.” you joked lightly, watching as he put his bag on his back. he shrugged his shoulders and looked away from your eyes. 

“don’t worry about it. good luck with your project with devon, yeah?” he spoke, his voice was unsure towards the end. you didn’t have time to say anything as he walked past you. leaving you in the class room by yourself. utterly confused. 

ッッッッ

a week had passed and devon came over everyday after school for the project, by the third day it was just about you two hanging out since you both had finshed. you two were friends, best friends even. nothing more than that.

in the span of a week you saw otis and maeve getting closer in and out of class. they were even passing notes! where you guys in kindergarten or something?

otis would barley give you the time of day now. everytime you looked at him he was either doing something with maeve or looking down at his paper with flushed cheeks.

the feeling was back. you didn’t know what it was, but you didn’t like it at all.

devon took quick notice of this. he had also noticed your crush on otis since day one.

you felt something hit the side of your head, when you looked over you saw devon looking at you with concern written all over his face. you looked down at the paper ball he tossed at you and opened it.

‘talk to him. he’s still your best friend right? so what if you like him, he would be lucky to have you.’

his handwriting was messy yet readable. you clenched you jaw and stared writing back. looks like you were in kindergarten too with this stupid note passing stuff.

‘oh shut it dev, it’s not that sim—‘

your writing was cut short when someone grabbed the note from under your pen and laughed.

fucking adam!

“the fuck is this? note passing from the dork and the geek?” he chuckled, reading it to himself with his smirk growing.

“oh real original daddies boy! stay out of my shit!” you groaned, venom laced in your tone as you shot up out of your seat in an attempt to grab it.

he raised his arm up and shoved you down, your back hitting your chair. you looked around and saw no teacher. stupid bloke left the classroom for some unknown reason. there were eyes on you and adam, waiting to see the whole thing play out.

you glanced up at otis but he was looking at the note. he wanted to hear what it said.

quickly devon was by your side, gripping your arm lightly to help you up. you thanked him before catching otis’s expression from the corner of your eye.

he was hurt?

you didn’t care at this point.

“talk to him. he’s still your best friend right? so what if you like him, he would be lucky to have you.” adam read aloud as some of the class laughed and some stayed quiet.

he went to read more but you had enough of his shit. you took a deep breath and swung your fist, hitting him right in the nose.

he fell back and dropped the note. you went closer and kicked his side for good measure.

with a huff you grabbed your book bag and walked to the front of the class, taking a bow before leaving.

you ran into the teacher who was just now coming back, you ignored his yells directed towards you with you middle finger up at him.

your grip on your book bag strap tightened as you made it to the bathroom.

tossing your bag down on the ground you sat on the closed toilet, locking the stall door.

“fuck! fuck adam, fuck mr holmes, fuck maeve, fuck otis, fuck... fuck me!” you pretty much exploded. you hated his. the feeling you didn’t really know was kept coming up, this time it was mixed with frustration.

“at least i wasn’t on the top of the list.” a voice spoke from outside the stall. otis.

“what do you want? go pass some notes to maeve about the whole thing. i’m sure she’ll love to hear from you again.” you mummbled the last bit and rubbed your face, trying to calm down the feeling you were experiencing.

he paused for a moment and you could see his feet move closer to the stall door.

“are you.. are you jealous?” he asked. right as he said that it all clicked for you. you are jealous!

“so what if i am? i’m getting over it. just go back to maeve. i’m fine here.” you spoke, swallowing your pride as your voice cracked a bit towards the end.

“open the door y/n. i’d rather talk to you to your face rather than through a stall door.” he requested, laughing lightly in hopes to brighten the mood a bit.

you rolled your eyes and did as he asked, when you did you were met with a hug from him.

you loved his hugs. they calmed you when you needed it most.

no matter how much you wanted to shove him away you just couldn’t. you wrapped your arms around him and let your cheek rest on his chest.

“is this the part where you tell me i’m a great friend but you don’t feel the same about me?” you chuckled dryly, not letting go until he stepped back and looked down at you.

“this is the part where i tell you i feel the same way about you. those notes to maeve where about you. i may have gotten jealous over you and devon and she wouldn’t let it go.. sorry if i gave you the wrong impression..” he trailed off, you could tell that he felt bad.

in response you rolled your eyes and laughed a bit. “otis, you’re oblivious. devon and i finished the project on the third day, all we did was talk about how i felt about you. plus other things like if stars are just fireflys.” you spoke like it was a really serious, which it was of course.

“I’M the oblivious one? i’ve liked you more than a best friend for four years!” he admitted with a dramatic huff.

you were shocked, you had only come to terms with your feelings for otis two years ago.

without much thought you cupped his face and brought his lips down to yours, kissing him. his lips were soft and warm against your own, you’ve waited for this moment for a long time.

when you pulled away all you could focus on was his bright blue eyes and toothy grin.

“we don’t have to be jealous of one another anymore, that’s for sure.”

ッッッ

thank you for reading! please leave your feedback and send me your requests! i love hearing from you guys and y’all make me smile so much.

[howlingwind]

01. what’s your name/alias you go by ??

my name is jeff !! lmfao (i don’t let memes die) it’s not my real name but i’ve gone by cody on tumblr for a long time

02. what’s your age ??

twenty. jfc i’m old. but also apparently a fetus??

03. what’s your zodiac sign ??

aries, which couldn’t feel further from correct lmfao

04. what’s your ethnicity ??

uhh mostly italian & sicilian, but you could probably point to any white place in europe and i’ll have a little bit of that in me. i’m also 1/16th native american but it’s such a small amount and sadly i don’t even know which tribe to learn more about them.

05. what’s your nationality ??

‘murican

06. what’s your favorite band and/or musical artist ??

i’m super indecisive about everything, so it’s difficult for me to pick faves (as you’ll see in a sec) but… mac miller,  post malone, johnny cash, eminem, tenacious d, colter wall, kehlani, bruno mars, snoop dogg, elvis presley, justin timberlake, sublime, the rolling stones, etc etc there’s probably a lot i’m forgetting tho. i like most types of music except country. well, modern country anyway.

07. what’s your dream job ??

uh, i don’t have one? i mean yeah, i’d love to be a writer, or game dev, or a narrative director on a game, or direct, write, or act in movies or television, but like…i could live without any of that stuff. i just want to make a decent living, be able to own a house, not completely hate my job. yknow, not a glamorous life but a good one.

08. what’s one place you would love to visit ??

idk there’s a lot of places i’d like to go, but i’d most like to visit alpha centauri, even tho that’ll never happen lol

09. what’s your favorite tv show ??

i can’t pick that! but i love a lot of shows. general hospital, lucifer, the 100, supernatural, stranger things, izombie, south park, legends of tomorrow, once upon a time, arrow (at times), dragon ball, big brother, riverdale, chilling adventures of sabrina, that 70′s show, the ranch, umm… i could probably keep listing forever.

10. what’s your favorite movie ??

hmmmm, again i’ve got a list but… joe dirt, the new guy, why him, the waterboy, 50 first dates, all the spider-man movies, thor ragnarok, man of steel, 21 jump street, 22 jump street ,and a fuckton more lol 

11. what’s your favorite song ??

constantly in flux, but the current faves are — creep by radiohead, stay by post malone, no below by speedy ortiz, unshaken by d’angelo, cruel cruel world by willie nelson, wanksta by 50 cent, shooter by lil wayne & robin thicke, stressed out by 21 pilots, self care by mac miller (along with practically everything on his final album), and i will always, un-ironically love only in america by riff raff. he’s not the greatest ever but that song is hilarious and always puts me in a good mood.

12. what’s your favorite sport ??

can i say rocket league? lol

13. what’s your favorite food ??

pizza, unquestionably. cereal is a damn close second tho. or pot stickers. damn, i’m hungry… 

14. what’s your favorite face claim to use ??

typically, i’ve always really liked using paul wesley, chris wood, and matt daddario. i’m using lindsey morgan for the first time now though, and i really like her as an fc too.

15. what’s your least favorite face claim ??

to use?? um pretty much any singer or model just bc their resources aren’t too great. i really didn’t enjoy using pete davidson as much as i thought i would, either lol

to see… uh probs emma roberts or andy biersack. emma for obvs reasons but also bc i once had a really bad experience with people using those fcs. idm people using whoever they feel like using tho.

16. what’s your favorite character of yours to play ?? which do you think you’re most like ??

oh man, uhh i really enjoy writing chrissy & theo. they both speak to me. but tbh i’m not much like any of my characters? i’m boring af so i tend not to make any like me lol. i am kinda like theo in the sense that i’m quiet, and really just try to be a good person. other than that i’m most like jason solely based on the fact we’re both human lol

17. what’s your sexuality ??

danversexual. attracted only to fictional danvers women, examples including carol, kara, and alex danvers.

lmfao but nah i’m just a boring straight boy. well, like 99.9% straight. jensen ackles makes me question shit.

18. what’s the last movie you saw in a cinema/theater ??

captain marvel (thanks to dani lol). only two months late but it was worth the experience haha.

19. what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had ??

thankfully i’ve never really hurt myself too terribly except for a broken wrist, but between the ages of 10-17 i’d occasionally hurt my back by sitting weird, usually in an attempt to play video games without the glasses i desperately needed lol. once when i was like 11 i laid belly down on the couch with my elbows up on the arm of it for like three hours, which messed me up for days, then a few other times i hurt myself, but another bad one when i was 17, i had my back curved while sitting and propping my laptop up on my knee, tried to move and literally just cried, crawled on the floor, and laid there all night until i forced myself to move in the morning. lol luckily it hasn’t happened since i lost a little weight.

20. what’s a random or interesting fact about you ??

uhm, nothing? i literally can’t think of one, i’m dull af. i uh.. i replaced my own cpu cooler once? lmfao

21. do you listen to music while you write ??

sometimes. a lot of time i just like the silence or ambient background noise, but if i’ve got a fitting playlist for the vibe of what i’m trying to write, i’ll use it!

22. are you a morning, day, evening, or night writer ??

i’m a never writer, apparently v___v but lol ideally a night writer, my best work is between the hours of 12am & 4am, but my sleeping schedule is so inconsistent, and so is my dad’s who spends literally every waking moment of his telling me different stuff he wants done, so it’s tough to hit that sweet spot. i write whenever i get a chance tho.

23. have you ever roleplayed intoxicated ??

lol nah i’ve never even had a drink. like what teenager doesn’t have a drink at some point?? i told you i’m lame.

24. what language or languages do you speak ??

english, barely. and assassin’s creed 2 taught me some italian swears. and ac: odyssey has had me occasionally dropping “malaka” bombs since the day i first played it haha.

25. how long have you roleplayed ??

officially, about 9 years. i started at 11 on myspace, rping dragon ball z stuff. but basically about 12 years, if you count how from the ages of 8-11 i’d put an anime pic up on my myspace, pretend i was older, and talk to roleplayers i didn’t realize were roleplayers lmfao.

26. favorite roleplay genre ??

i like pretty much anything, tbh. as long as it’s well thought out, has an interesting plot, or whatever. sometimes it doesn’t even need that, it just needs to catch my eye or line up with something i’m looking for. but yeah, supernatural, multi-fandom, sci-fi, romance, town rps, high school/college rps, anime rp (well, pokemon mostly), harry potter… i’ve done it all tbh and don’t particularly have a favorite.

27. one sound you hate & one you love ??

the sound of cotton stretching is the absolute worst thing to me. or scratching cotton. idk, it just sends chills up and down my spine and makes my hands feel weak lmfao. i’m weird. i really love the sound of rain, or fire crackling, or like “ambient” harp or ukulele music.

28. do you believe in ghosts ??

short answer, yes. long answer… i’m pretty sure i was friends with a ghost girl as a kid?? like no joke, even looking back at it through rational “adult” eyes, i’m still convinced. my fam moved into a new apartment, and pretty much right after that i started having dreams about a girl my age at the time (11-12). i’d never seen her before but the dreams would be like just conversations, like i was visiting a friend or something. i don’t remember them much, but i do remember the feeling of someone else in my room all the time, like you know how if someone else is around you just know even if you’re not looking at them? like that. there was even one night i was getting in bed, laid there a minute, and then i could have absolutely sworn somebody came in the room and sat down next to me on the bed because i felt the bed sink a little under their weight, but i looked and no one was there. i had a really vivid conversation/dream/thing that night. then a few nights later, for the first time since moving there i didn’t have one. the next morning my dad was really freaked out and said he fell asleep in the chair, but woke up and couldn’t breathe, and felt cold little hands over his mouth. he rationalized it as just waking up from a nightmare but i didn’t think so, so that night when i went to sleep and saw her i got really upset, yelled at her for it, and woke up right after. then i never saw or heard anything even remotely similar again, like she left or disappeared or something. it’s so weird, and i know how crazy it sounds, but yeah. don’t get me started on the topic of ghosts lmfao. THEN AGAIN, like a year later we had a carbon monoxide scare, but i really doubt the two were related because that would mean there was an entire year that we were breathing it in and the monitor didn’t do anything lol

29. do you believe in aliens ??

no alien story, thankfully, but it just makes no sense not to believe in them to me. like, we probably don’t have them on earth, and we’ve probably never encountered any, but it’s as close as you can get to a mathematical certainty that there’s some other life out there in the universe.

30. do you believe in true love ??

like, people who are just meant for each other, like romantic soulmates? nah not really. but i believe that two people can grow to truly love one another. whether it’s based off an initial attraction/infatuation, or a friendship, or both. i’d actually argue that’s a simple explanation of the biological science behind the feeling of love, but that’s an essay i’m not gonna write lol. but there’s apparently a lot of different types of love, so i guess “true love” is suggestive? 

also slightly unrelated but i don’t-quite-believe-in-but-am-open-to-the-idea-of soulmates, not necessarily as two souls who are just meant for each other romantically and always end up together, but more as two or more souls that gravitate toward each other to make up the important people in each other’s lives, like family members, lovers, or close friends. but that’s more of a theoretical idea/possibility than an actual belief of mine.

31. do you hold grudges ??

um, yes. lol i try not to, and i really do want everyone to be their best/happiest selves, but some people man… some people can take a long walk off a short pier lmao

32. do you have any obsessions right now ??

PO KE MON GOTTA CATCH EM ALLLLL. also… life is strange (thanks dani lol). supernatural. stranger things (thanks dani & steph) the 100 / clexa / becho  (thanks steph). lucifer. captain marvel (thanks dani). the song “creep” by radiohead and all its covers (tom ellis, haley reinhart, etc). cyberpunk 2077 (thanks dani). as you can see, i’m easily influenced lmfao.

33. do you drive & if so, have you ever been in a crash ??

nope i don’t drive, precisely because i’d definitely end up in a crash lol

34. do you like the smell of gasoline ??

uh that’s a big fat no from me, chief

35. do you prefer writing fluff, angst, or smut ??

i like it all equally, i think. i just really like writing & rp in general. i did run a smut rp once in the past tho. it gets old quick tbh and is the one of the three i can live without lol

36. are you in a relationship ??

bahahahahahahaha no.

37. grab the nearest book to you and turn to page 23, what is the 17the line ??

❝  “and why would that be?” kronos’s golden eyes glittered.  ❞

— the last olympian by rick riordan.

38. put your playlist on shuffle and list the first four songs that pop up:

1. season of the witch – donovan 2. riot van – arctic monkeys 3. busta rhymes – qveen herby 4. der kommissar – after the fire

also i gotta cheat because it’s too perfect that the next two are

5. stay – mac miller (one of my favorites ever that i forgot to mention above) 6. only in america – riff raff (i just love this ok. the video is hilarious but tw james franco for those that don’t like him)

[that-one-regina]

Music cleanses the soul

I’m feeling spontaneous or whatever, so I decided to post a Snowbaz/Carry On one shot(I think it’s a one shot, but I’ve never written one so idk) that I wrote a few weeks ago, pretty much all of it being written during hw halls and between classes at school, I was kinda obsessed.

Hope whoever reads it enjoys!

It was inspired by the thought of Baz playing the violin for Simon

On ao3 here!

Baz’s point of view

I don’t know how long I play before I realize that my muscles have relaxed even more, my breathing is slow and composed, and my mind is completely filled with Snow. It almost seems like I can actually feel him, his bright flames of magick rolling over me. I abruptly stop playing the love ballad I’d unknowingly chosen and march over to the door. I stand next to it for a second, violin still in hand, and fix my hair. Then I yank the door open, staring into Snow’s gapping face, just as I expected.

“Baz! What, what are you doing here?” Snow stammers, his full checks turning bright pink. I try not to smile at the sight.

“This is my room too, Snow. Where else would I be? I’m not going to sleep on the football pitch.”

“Oh,” he replies, mouth still hanging open, “I just thought you’d be at home. It’s Christmas break.”

“And?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and walking away from him, sitting cross legged on my bed, pretending to fix something on my violin. Snow closes the door and stands in front of me, right next to my music stand.

His face is composed now, shifted back to his suspicious, squinty eyed expression. The only one I see other than a glare when he knows I’m watching him.

“I just assumed you had a family plan of torturing innocent children and kittens,” Snow says, crossing his arms. I roll my eyes.

“Oh, we wouldn’t dare harm kittens, Snow. That’s more of a Halloween thing.”

He just glares at me, unamused. I sigh, deciding to be the one to ask.

“Snow, why are you here?”

“Well, Baz, this is my room, too, right?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes again.

“Seriously, Snow.”

He looks at his feet, then up at my face again. I can’t read his expression. He must be really trying to hide what he’s thinking, I can usually tell the second I look into his eyes. But right now they’re blank.

“You first, Baz.”

I want to argue again, but think better of it. Snow’s acting way too stubborn right now for me to get anywhere.

“Fine, I’ll tell you, but if you repeat this to another living soul, I will deny it, and this time when I feed you to a fucking chimera, I won’t fail.” I say, surprising myself. I don’t know when I decided to tell him the truth. Snow seems surprised, too. He backs over to his bed so that he’s sitting on the edge, across from me. His eyes are wide, curious. Good. I hated seeing them look empty and cold. It reminds me too much of a mirror.

“It’s not a long story, okay? It’s just stupid and it would be bad if a lot of people knew. My family wants to keep quiet about it.”

I close my eyes and clench my fists, preparing myself. I hate thinking about this. It always puts me in a bitter mood.

“My father kicked me out. Told me that after I’m done at Watford I’m done with him, too. He said I could come home for the holidays still, but to hell with that. If he’s done with me, I’m done with him.” I relax my hands, resting them on my knees, but keep my eyes closed. I can’t believe I just told Snow. I think I just wanted to get it out. Dev and Niall already know, but they ignore it. That’s what we do. If there’s a problem like this we all silently agree to ignore it. But I don’t want to ignore this. I want to get mad, to allow myself to feel something. And I know Snow won’t let this go. Snow will hold it over my head, torture me with it, force me to get angry about it.

“But, why-”

I snap my eyes open, half-heartedly glaring at Snow.

“Why they kicked me out doesn’t matter, Snow.” I shake my head, getting hotter and hotter, starting to burn, “No, you know what, it does, it does matter, and it really fucking sucks, too, but there’s nothing we can do about it, so I’m not explaining.” And I defuse, just like that.

I put my face in my hands, trying to fully calm down. I didn't mean to explode. Outbursts like that from either person are most of the reason Snow and I fight all the time. Sometimes the fire mingles with the smoke and I can’t tell whether I’m choking or burning, or maybe flying and filling my lungs with the air and water that I need to live. Snow’s too fucking confusing to me. So I explode. Or push him down the stairs. Whichever comes first.

“What about you, Snow? Why aren’t you spending the holiday baking heart shaped cookies and singing merry little carols with Wellbelove?”

I look up when he hesitates, about to yell at him for refusing to talk, but stop when I see his face. He looks pained. At first I think it must be because of why he’s at Watford, but he’s staring into my eyes and I recognize the look immediately. If I was anyone else I’d think it was pity, but I know Snow too much for that. It’s more like empathy. He stands, still staring at me.

“Baz, you-”

“Snow, stop, just-”

“Baz.”

I freeze, the intensity in his voice causing me to forget to keep him from talking anymore. I can’t focus on anything other than keeping myself from jumping him right then and there. To kiss him, punch him, I don’t know.

“Simon, please. I don’t want to talk about it. Please.” I guess I didn’t tell him to get mad about it. I just wanted him to know.

Snow stares at me a few seconds more, then walks over and sits next to me on my bed. I have the urge to yell at him but he’s sitting so close that my mind’s too foggy to pretend to be mad about it. I suspect him to push for more details because he’s Snow and he’s thick and so fucking stubborn, but for once he drops it. He’s probably just going to ask again later, but for now he ignores it.

“Agatha and I broke up. That’s why I’m not with her. She still invited me to stay, at least for Christmas dinner, but I thought it’d be too weird. So, I’m spending Christmas at Watford.”

“What about Bunce? Why don’t you stay with her?”

“I’m not allowed. Her mum doesn’t want me around too long. Something with her and the Mage. There’s something you two have in common. Hating me because of the Mage.”

I tense, thinking that was a dig, but Snow’s smirking. A joke. It was a joke.

“So we’re joking now, Snow,” I ask, displaying a smirk to match his, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah we are,” he giggles, attempting to copy me with the eyebrow raise and completely failing. His mouth gets all distorted, like he’s about to drink out of a straw, and both his eyebrows are wiggling up and down as he tries.

“Snow, just stop,” I say, laughing, “ You look like a constipated squirrel.” He snorts, covering his mouth, laughing right along with me. Our laughter starts to die down and we end up staring at each other again. He’s so beautiful. His face gets an awed kind of expression. Then he glances down, staring at the instrument in my lap.

“I forgot that you play the violin. You always practiced anywhere but in our room. Why?”

“Why what?” I ask, looking at his face, hoping he doesn’t catch me, but also wishing I could see his eyes. I can always tell what Snow is thinking through his eyes. He tries to hide it, but all his feelings are so transparent.

“Why do you play? Why never in our room?” He asks, looking up at me and leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees.

I take a deep breath, stalling as try to figure out what he’s thinking. His eyes aren’t giving anything away. He’s really good at hiding today.

“It’s the same answer for both, I guess. I…,” I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him or not. I’ve already let him in more than I ever imagined I would have. But it’s Snow. Snow, who’s so animated and alive that you can practically read his mind by staring into his brilliant, blue eyes. Snow, who right now looks blank and gone, who’s apparently gotten all too well at hiding what he feels. Snow, who may give away just a little bit of emotion if I only open up to him a little more. I stare down at my shoes.

“I’ve always loved to play. My mother gave me this violin for my birthday as a child. She said a boy should learn to play an instrument, that it was more important than almost anything else. She claimed that the violin taught grace because you had to learn to hold it and not fall over. It taught you how to be gentle, always being precise in how you play and treat it, never letting it be harmed or broken.”

I swallow, unable to stop now. I look up at Snow to find him staring at me. I don’t let myself think about what I see there, and instead continue.

“The most important lesson she said it’d teach me was how to love.” I see Snow tense out of the corner of my eye; I almost feel it. “Having it with me at all times, hating the practices but loving the performances, that’d make me love it. She was right about that one. I do love this violin. I love how stubborn it is, strings always pushing back as I press against them again and again. How it’s always there in the room, whether I want to destroy it or play it, it’s always there.” Snow’s started breathing again, but faster. I get the urge to touch his chest, to feel just how fast his insane, stubborn little heart is beating.

“That’s not why I play though. I play because the music consumes me. I’m not just playing the strings, playing with the fire; I am the fire. I can burn and smoke and fall apart, but then burst from the ashes like a phoenix, unharmed, more alive and awake than ever.”

I’m still staring at Snow, but now I let myself register what’s on his face, in his eyes. His eyes are burning like the fire from my music, but I still can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“It’s always fire with you, Baz,” Snow starts, trying to hide a small smile. “You should show me some of it.”

“What?” I ask, shaking my head.

“Play something. Right now. There’s only you and I at the school for the holiday, so we might as well get along.”

I continue to shake my head. This is a position I never thought I’d be in. Snow wanting to hear my music.

“Please, Baz. Just one song.” Snow pouts, sticking out his lower lip and looking up at me through his lashes.

“Fine.” I agree, setting everything up.

“Where are your papers? What song are you playing?” Snow asks. I ignore him and just start to play the same ballad from earlier. Everything else starts to melt away, until it’s just the music, Snow, and I, all trapped in a tiny corner in my mind.

I’m almost finished with the song when I feel two broad hands on my shoulders, lightly shaking them.

“Baz, are you okay? Baz,” Snow shouts frantically. I stop playing, finally fully registering the world around me. I set my violin on my bed next to me, the opposite side Snow is on, because he’s sitting on his knees, right next to me, still staring at my face, wide eyed. That’s when I realize that I’d started crying. No wonder Snow freaked out. I’m surprised he hasn’t ran straight out the door yet.

Once I realize I’m crying it’s impossible to stop. I got too lost, too trapped in the music. I start crying more intensely now, silent tears turning into violent sobs. It’s been so long since I’ve cried. I never let myself because I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to stop.

Snow’s hands slide down my arms, wrapping around my waist, his mouth right next to my ear, whispering.

“It’s okay,” he says, “It’s okay. You’re fine, Baz. You’re fine.”

He pulls us down, guiding me to lay down on my side as he lays down beside me. He cradles me, big spoons, whatever the hell you want to call it, stroking my hair as I try to calm down, try to stop crying. It only works enough to let me get quieter, the silent tears returning.

“I’m right here, Baz. I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay with you until you’re happy, even if it takes forever. Just let it out, you’re okay. I’ll be with you until you’re better, and then I’ll stay right by your side for a long, long time after.”

I have so many questions, but Simon’s face is in my hair and he smells like scones and the schools cheap soap, and this whole day has taken so much out of me.

I close my eyes, which have stopped crying, and listen to Simon’s breathing, matching my own to his. I lay there, unreasonably happy, drifting off to sleep in Simon Snow’s arms.

[worstchosenone]

Fake Accounts

When Baz receives a message from a secret admirer, he knows immediately who is behind it. 

My fic for @snowbazspookyweek day 1

Prompt: Tricks

Word count: 1.1k

Baz

I’m sitting on my bed, reading something for school when my laptop pings at the end of my bed. Pings, like someone’s messaged me. I roll my eyes, I don’t know who would be messaging me, the only people I can think of are Dev and Niall, and they never message me. I message them.

Curious now, I pull the open laptop into my lap. The message came from my email account, and it reads:

From: Funmage61

i like you

I narrow my eyes at the screen, no way this is real. Probably some cheeky first year, or a bot.

From: BazGPitch

Who is this?

From: Funmage61

a secret admirer

From: BazGPitch

Not interested.

I’m not going to fall for this bait, it’s probably Snow trying to get me to spill all of my evil secrets. Come to think of it, Snow’s not here, at 9pm on a school night. And his laptop is missing as well, so he’s either at some late night study session (unlikely), or it’s him.

From: Funmage61

you don’t even know who I am

From: BazGPitch

Judging by your questionable relationship with punctuation and capitalization, not interested.

Simon

“He’s not falling for it,” I groan at Penny over my laptop, who just glances at me from hers.

“Of course not, Simon,” I can tell she’s itching to say I told you so. “Have you ever seen Baz interested in anyone? Why now?”

“I thought maybe if someone was interested in him. And as a matter of fact, I have, I’ve seen him be interested in Agatha.”

She just makes a noncommittal noise at that.

From: Funmage61

You don’t have to be such a git.

I hit send, probably not the best idea, cover-wise, but he’s just so infuriating.

Baz

He called me a git, so it’s definitely Snow.

That doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with this.

Simon

From: BazGPitch

If I’m ‘such a git’, why exactly do you like me? From: Funmage61

Idk

From: BazGPitch

No, tell me. What makes me so irresistible?

God, he’s really doing this. What a prat, even to someone who likes him. I can’t do this, I can’t sit here and detail the reasons why someone might like Baz. I can’t think of a single reason (okay, maybe I can, but I’m not going to type them out).

He’ll never tell me anything important anyway. I’m about to log out, and possibly delete the fake account, when it pings again.

From: BazGPitch

It doesn’t matter anyway, I like someone else.

I immediately pull my mouse away from the Log Off button, my eyes widening. “Penny!”

Baz

He doesn’t reply for a while, and I’m thinking that he logged off before he could see it, (which is a little disappointing) when it pings again:

From: Funmage61

How do you know that I’m not her?

From: BazGPitch

Because he hates me.

It almost hurts to send it, he’ll know who I’m talking about, but I’ll play it off as a joke. A trick. And, he’ll be so flustered that it’ll be worth it anyway.

Simon

He? Baz is gay?

Hates him? The only ‘he’ who hates Baz is me. The only anyone who hates Baz is me, Baz is flawless.

But surely…

From: Funmage61 Hates you? Who?

From: BazGPitch

Simon Snow.

I audibly gasp, I mean, I knew it was coming. But it can’t be true.

“Simon?” Penny asks, looking back up from her laptop. She looks like I’ve just pulled her out of ultra-concentration mode. “What happened? Did Baz tell you who he likes?” 

“No, I just, I realized how late it is. I have to go.”

“Simon, what-?”

I shut my laptop shove it into my bag. Leaving her with her half-asked question.

Baz  

He doesn’t respond, and that name (his name) just sits there on the screen until I almost can’t bear to look at it anymore. My heart is beating wildly (or as wildly as an undead vampires heart can beat).

As if this matters, as if this was a real confession that will lead to anything real and not just a flustered and embarrassed (and probably angry) Snow.

I wait for him to come up to our room, and he doesn’t. I wait for him to respond, and he doesn’t.

Hours pass, it’s now 1am, and I’m starting to worry. Why would it affect him this much?

Simon

It’s nearly 1:30 when I return to our room, Baz is asleep on his bed. Or at least I think he’s asleep. Which is a relief, I don’t want to confront him until tomorrow. I can deal with this then.

I quietly get dressed for bed, tucking myself under the covers.

When I’m settled, and ready for sleep, Baz says, so quietly I almost can’t hear it: “Funmage61, that’s quite a shit name isn’t it?”

“What?” I growl, rolling over to face him.

“I said, your username is shit.”

I sit up, and I think that he does too, but it’s so dark I can’t really tell, “You knew?”

“Of course I knew, Snow,” He says it in that, I’m-so-much-smarter-than-you tone. I hate that tone. “I’m not an idiot, and I’m certainly not in love with you,” I can hear the sneer in his voice.

“So, that was a trick?” I’m trying to sound tough, to sound like I’m not about to cry. I don’t even know why I am, Baz is a prat. Of course he’d lie like that.

“Don’t sound so hurt, Snow. You were just doing the very same thing to me.”

“Sorry, Baz,” I sniff, growling as best I can. “I just thought, maybe you were actually human. And not just some cold monster, I thought maybe we could be friends, or something.”

Silence.

“Friends?”

“I don’t know, just let me sleep.”

“Snow, can you come here?”

“No.”

“Just come here, Snow.”

I do, and soon. I’m sitting on the very edge of his bed. And he is sitting up, and looking at me with his grey eyes. And fuck, maybe I did want him to like me. Just a little.

“You wouldn’t have been disgusted if I had liked you?” He looks almost vulnerable, and that’s just making this all harder.

“Why would I be disgusted?”

“Because I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, you’re just a boy.” So I kiss him, because he is just a boy. Maybe even a boy that I like (definitely a boy that I like).

This is a nice kiss, nicer than it’s ever been with Agatha, different, more Baz. Which is good, because I don’t want to be kissing anyone but baz.

He pulls away, which reminds me that this was all a trick.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have- you don’t-”

“You kissed me?”

“Yeah, it was stupid-”

“No, it was perfect,” And he’s smiling this sort of sweet, perfect, smile that I’ve never seen on his face before, and it’s making me want to kiss him again. So I do.

[liiacsuns]

Carry On Countdown, DAY 7.

Day 7, DEC 1: Your favourite trope

“He got in a fight again,” says Penny one day while we’re studying in the library. She’s the only one who’s studying really, but I like being here with her.

“What are you talking about?” I ask

“Baz. He got in a fight again. First time in a while.”

“Oh that. I know, I was there,” I answer with a shrug and she starts freaking out.

“What? Why? Wait nothing happened to you, right?”

“Of course not Penny, I would have told you. I just saw it happen when I was going back home, nothing much really.”

“Oh, I see. Do you know why?” she asks.

“Why would I? I don’t talk to Baz, and I couldn’t exactly ask the other guy why he got beaten up, could I?”

“True. I’ll ask Trixie, I’m pretty sure she’ll know. She always knows this kind of stuff.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to her?” I say, remembering all the times she complains about her roommate.

“I can do an exception for our local punk. I want to know what got him back into fighting,” she says with a smirk.

“And I’m the one obsessed,” I sigh.

“Oh shut up you know you were. And don’t tell me you’re not curious too”

“Actually I’m not. I honestly don’t care about why Baz got into a fight, unless it’s with me. And it wasn’t with me, so I’m not going to complain. Now please, can we go back to studying?”

“You’re not even doing it, you spent the last hour staring out the window,” she teases with a laugh, but goes back to studying.

     Penny wasn’t the type to listen to gossips before we got into college, but now she kind of does, especially when it’s about Baz. He’s in our year, tall, rich, arrogant. Apparently his style is punk (leather jackets, ripped jeans, piercings, combat boots…) and he’s supposed to be my enemy and to hate me since we first met, two years and a half ago. The first two years, the only interactions we had were to throw insults and snarky comments at each other, and him getting into multiple fights a week, but it stopped at the beginning of this year. And again, I’m not complaining, it was tiring.

     I stay with Penny for one more hour, before leaving the campus to go home. The flat I’m renting is small, not especially the best, but I don’t have a roommate and I’m close to everything, so I deal with it. I’m there in five minutes, and there’s someone waiting in front of my door. Jet black hair, pale as ever, dressed in all black. I smile as he sits up and hugs me from behind while I open the door.

“Penny is really interested about your fight,” I say with a smile.

“Bet she is. What did you tell her?”

“That I witnessed it but didn’t know the reasons behind. And that I don’t care at all,” I answer, laughing.

     I can’t say anything else, I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me slowly, his jacket already on the couch. So fast. I still have my coat and my boots on, and he’s already comfortable, like he’s the one living here. He’s not, even though it sometimes feels like it.

“I like the pink”, he says later, gesturing to my sweater.

“I thought your favorite was the yellow one?” I tease.

“It is, but I like the pink too. And I can’t believe I’m talking about pastel colours and which one is my favorite,” he says with a smile.

“Oh poor Basilton, can’t handle a bit of colour?” I mock.

“Not on me. But on you I don’t mind.”

“That’s really fortunate because I’m not becoming a goth cliché for your pretty eyes,” I end with a laugh, before kissing him again.

     We end up snuggling in the couch watching Stranger Things (I already binge watched the entire season, but I insisted on showing it to him), and it’s a perfect night. We don’t talk about the fight, or Penny, or school, or anything. We don’t have to, and don’t want to. I was actually there when it happened, and I know what happened. He fought with that guy because he was making fun of me (it turns out that wearing only pastels is pretty gay, and people don’t really like it). But I can’t really tell her that, because then I’d have to tell her that actually, Baz doesn’t hate me at all, and that the only thing we fight about is what we’re going to watch or eat.

     It’s not that we’re ashamed or anything. But after two years of hatred and rivalry and all that, it would be too much to deal with, and we don’t really want to. DOing our thing on our own without the world knowing is fine. I kind of like this option more to be honest, there is just the two of us, without people asking questions or trying to learn more about our story and everything. We have our lives, our friends, and we don’t mix them, but at the end of the day he comes over to my place and we have our own little bubble, only the two of us, and that’s perfect.

“Should we tell people about us?” he asks suddenly, staring down at me.

“I don’t know. Do you want to?”

“I’m not sure. I like this, coming here and spending the night with you and all, without having to care about other people. But at the same time it would be nice to be out you know? Like, be able to hold your hand or kiss you in the middle of the library, things like that.”

“We would get kicked out,” I say with a laugh. “But I see what you mean, yeah. Maybe we can start telling people? Like not right now, and not everyone, but tell Penny, and Dev and Niall you know? Go slowly?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. The pastel kid and the punk brat. Everyone’s going to freak out.”

“That would make a great movie title,” I joke. “But I don’t really care you know?. I like the punk brat, and you’re not actually a brat when we’re together. So I don’t mind your reputation.”

“Be careful, you’re starting to be sappy,” he laughs, and I flip him off.

#####

     I’m with Penny again, in the cafeteria this time, sitting across from her, trying to listen to what she’s saying as I eat. She’s talking about the last book she read I think, so it’s not that bad that I don’t actually listen. I don’t read, I don’t like it that much. But a few minutes later, I hear Baz’s name, and I suddenly pay attention.

“Wait what?” I exclaim, a bit too loud.

“Are you even listening to me?” she sighs. “I was saying that I still don’t know why Baz got into that fight.”

“Seriously Penny? It’s been like a week, can’t you move on?”

“I told you the same thing for a whole year when you were obsessed with him, you don’t have any right to tell me to move on, okay?”

     I want to protest but she’s right, I was totally obsessed with him last year. I don’t really know why, to be honest.

“I really don’t understand what got you so obsessed with him,” she continues. “I mean, yeah he’s kinda hot and all but still.”

“Okay first of all it wasn’t for his looks. And second, he’s not hot, he’s beautiful, that’s common knowledge.”

“Always so cheesy Snow” I hear Baz say suddenly. I look up and see him standing beside Penny, smirking. “Already cheating on your boyfriend Bunce? Or has the great Simon Snow finally found someone?”

“Oh shut up Baz,” Penny says, irritated.

“Actually we were talking about you,” I say with a smile, and I can’t help but smile even more when I see him slightly blush.

“Me being hot isn’t something new, I thought you both knew that,” he immediately says, and I want to wipe that superior smirk off his face. But that would be inappropriate here.

“Oh we know, that’s what I was saying to Penny. I see you’re still full of yourself,” I joke.

“I always am, you know that,” he answers before leaving, and Penny’s automatically staring at me with wide eyes.

“Okay what was that about? Since when do you guys talk? Or flirt, whatever the hell that was.”

“We have a project to do together for a class,” I say with a shrug.

“You do? Really? Why did you choose him?”

“I didn’t, the teacher made the groups. Turns out we can be together in the same room without being at each other throats.”

“That’s weird. Super weird. But cool I guess, unless you start becoming obsessed with him again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good.”

     I’m glad she doesn’t ask more questions. I’m not good at lying, especially when I’m lying to her. And I don’t like it, because she’s my best friend, and pretty much my only friend since Agatha left for California.

#####

     It all started with a serious conversation. It’s friday evening, Baz came over and we were talking about telling our friends about our relationship. But now I’m on his lap, neither of us have a shirt on and we’re kissing like there is no tomorrow.

     My hand is in his hair, and he’s tracing abstract patterns on my chest, and I don’t care about breathing, or opening my eyes or anything else, just his tongue in my mouth and his lips against mine. I like when it’s passionate like this. I know that later we’ll both have marks on our necks and collarbones, and he’ll probably curse me tomorrow because “fuck Simon how am I going to hide this, it’s like the size of Texas for fuck sake!”, but right now I honestly don’t care, and judging by the noises he makes when I suck and bite on his skin, he doesn’t either.

     I’m too focused on Baz, on kissing him and making him do that noise again, because fuck, that’s really really hot, and it gets to me every single time. I don’t hear the door opening and someone coming into the living room. I’m too busy kissing the air out of him and almost grinding on him. And suddenly I hear a scream. I immediately pull back, and Penny is here, eyes wide, and I’m breathless, so is Baz, and we’re half-naked, there’s already a few hickeys on his neck, and probably on mine too, and the only thing I find to say is “Oh hey Penny, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t “hey” me Simon Snow. What are YOU doing? Like, both of you,” she exclaims.

“I don’t think a drawing is needed Bunce, is it?” Baz intervenes

“Oh don’t sass me Basilton, we both know I can sass you back. Explain to me what the hell is happening and since when do you guys make out instead of fight.”

“Okay, calm down Pen, we’ll explain. Just- just let us get dressed,” I say, gesturing for Baz to put his shirt back on. He groans, but does it anyway.

     Penny’s sitting opposite of us, her hands folded on her lap, and I can tell she’s listening closely, that she doesn’t want to miss a single word we say. I explain, I know Baz will mess things up if he does, I tell her about how we got together almost three months ago, that we were planning on telling her soon but we wanted to keep our little bubble of safety for a bit more.

“What about that project? Is that a lie too?” she asks

“No, we do have a project together. It’s just that it’s not that one that got us together you know. We already were.”

     She doesn’t take it badly. I know she wouldn’t, but I was afraid she would be mad at me for hiding it. She seems to understand though. She even jokes a little with Baz, and it’s almost surreal. A moment later, I realize that she’s not supposed to be here, and ask her why she came. She wanted to watch Harry Potter with me, but decides to leave us alone to “do our gross things” and goes home about half an hour later.

    As soon as the door closes, I’m on my bed, Baz hovering above me, kissing the hell out of me, and I don’t complain a bit.

Thanks again @blackintheskies !! :3

[ravenclawbaz]

Carry On Countdown

Day 1 

Prompt: At Watford

Summary: It’s Halloween and Baz doesn’t usually go to the party that Watford throws every year, but how could he pass up a chance to annoy Simon Snow?

Word Count: 2081

Also on AO3

Simon's POV:

It's safe to say I've never been the biggest fan of Halloween. Sometimes kids at the home would dress up and go trick-or-treating and, as we got older, they started to sneak out and go to parties. Celebrating the return of the dead by dressing up as witches and vampires wasn't something that appealed to me, and still doesn't today.

This is one of the first times I have seen Penny not actually doing something related to school work. She's currently sitting on Baz's bed (he'd kill both of us if he found out), planning out her Halloween costume. Trying, and failing, to incorporate me into it.

"Simon it's our last year at Watford, don't you actually want to join in on the Halloween festivities for once in your life?" She sighs and lays back on the bed, tucking her arms under her head.

"I've told you a thousand times and my answer is still no. I refuse to celebrate Halloween and I'll continue to refuse until my death."

"You're so dramatic. But fine, you don't need to dress up, just please at least come to the celebration this year? I promise you'll have fun!" At this point, I might just go so she stops bothering me about it.

"If I go will you stop asking?" I ask, defeated.

"Yes."

"Fine." I let out a sigh and she jumps up with a smile on her face, "Don't get too excited though! I can't promise that I'm going to enjoy it." I laugh as she flops on the bed next to me, messing up my curls with her fingers.

"I knew you would cave in eventually." I roll my eyes and knock her hand out of my hair, turning away. "Now," she says, jumping back up off the bed, "you have some planning to help me with."

I'm in for a long night.

---

Penny and I make our way down to the dining room where the 'party' is at. We spent most of the night working on Penny's costume, which she had taken two hours to decide on and had ended up being a pickle. So now I'm in my usual attire (my Watford uniform), walking down to a celebration I don't necessarily want to go to, next to a pickle.

All I can hope is that Baz isn't here, that would just make it worse. The fact that we had spent the last 7 years in our room while everyone was at the celebration is a good sign that I will not be seeing him here tonight.

It's been about an hour since Penny and I arrived and things are actually going better than I thought they would, although she abandoned me 15 minutes ago to dance. There are some interesting costumes on people I never thought I would see dressed up like this. For instance, Dev and Niall are dressed as minions which I find ironic and a bit disgusting.

I'm leaning against the wall, watching Penny dance in her pickle costume when I realize that I shouldn't be left alone to people watch. Not when Baz just walked into the room looking like that.

I'm not sure if it's some kind of joke, but even if it is I hate it. His hair is slicked back more than usual, I can see the grease from here, and there are noticeable fangs poking out of his mouth (are those real?). The fuck is dressed as Dracula, cape and all.

I stare intently as his eyes scan the room, watching as his eyes settle on mine. He smirks his stupid Baz smirk, this one accompanied with blood dripping down from his mouth, and looks like he's going to come over, before he turns and joins Dev and Niall by the punch bowl.

Unbelievable. Baz has always looked like a vampire and it wasn't until kind of recently that I thought he might actually be one. With all his trips to the catacombs in 5th year and how he literally looks dead all the time, how could no one else think the same. Baz is well aware of my suspicion which is why I know this is just to mess with me.

I look for Penny in the mess of dancing people and finally spot her green pickle form. I know she hates my obsession with Baz being a vampire just as much as the next person, but I need to make sure she sees the shit he's pulling.

Squeezing through the crowd of sweaty, loud teenagers as fast as I can, I make it to Penny and grab her arm, forcing her to follow me out of the dining room.

"Simon, what the hell?" She says, panting from all the dancing she's been doing.

"Baz came." I ignore her question.

"Okay. And? What does this have to do with me?" She asks, clearly annoyed that I stopped her from having fun just to complain about Baz.

"It has to do with you because I'm your friend and I should be allowed to talk about Baz as much as I want to you. And he's dressed like fucking Dracula, Penny. He's doing this to mess with me!" She sighs and peers around the corner to look for Baz. I let go of her arm.

"Simon Snow you are literally 18 years old and upset because Baz is dressed as a vampire?" She still sound annoyed, but I can hear the amusement in her voice, "Although I have to admit, he doesn't look half bad."

"Gross Penny."

"Well this has been fun. I think I'm going to go back in, why don't you go back up to your room? You don't have to stay if you don't want to, Simon." She says, leaving before I get a chance to say anything else.

Once she's out of sight, I look around the corner and find Baz looking right back at me. He must've been watching us this whole time. And I hate how Penny is right.

I decide to call it a night and head back up to Mummers House.

---

Not long after I make it back to our room and am comfortable in bed, I hear Baz saying goodnight to Dev and Niall and then opening the door.

I try to ignore him but it's hard when he looks like that and when he only stayed at the celebration for a total of 20 minutes. Why would he get all dressed up just to leave right after he got there?

"Why are you back so soon?" I ask, ensuring that my voice is hostile.

"Dev and Niall were done and I couldn't be bothered to stand around by myself." He says, taking off his cape and draping it over the back of his chair.

I don't answer him and instead pull my covers up to my chest, crossing my arms over them and fuming silently while Baz sits on his bed, not bothering to take off his costume. I'm more pissed than I'd like to admit about the fact that Baz actually looks good like this. Well, besides the hair. His hair always looks better when it's loosely hanging around his face. I wish he'd wear it like that more often but at least I'm blessed with seeing it, being his roommate and all.

We stay silent for a total of 2 minutes before I can't stand just sitting here anymore.

"Are you doing this to fuck with me?" I ask.

"Hm?" He replies like he doesn't know what I'm talking about.

I uncross my arms and gesture with one of them at him, "Your costume. You're doing it to fuck with me."

"And why would I do that, Snow?" He turns on his bed to face me, signature Baz smirk plastered on his stupidly perfect face.

"You know why." I say, still not making eye contact with him.

"I'm not sure I do though." Yep, he's definitely fucking with me.

Instead of getting him to admit it I just say, "Well, your hair is shit like that anyway. So whatever game you were playing, you lost."

"Insulting me isn't going to do anything, Snow. You should know that by now. Besides, I know I look damn good anyway."

"Well yeah obviously." I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?" Oh shit, he must've heard me. I look over, expecting to see him looking at me smugly but am instead met with a confused Baz face. Now that's one I don't see very often.

I think about lying and saying I said nothing but decide against it. Penny did say it's our last year so why not screw myself over, knowing that I'll only have to endure Baz's snide comments for less than a year.

"I said yes. You do look damn good and I hate it. You're a vampire for fuck's sake, and a real one too, you're not supposed to look good! I should not be aroused by your stupid hair and your stupid fangs and your stupid cape and your stupid shirt and cape but I am and I hate it. Although, your hair really does look better when you don't mess with it like that." By now, I'm stood up, running my fingers through my curls and messing them up even more.

I expect Baz to say something snarky back but instead he just stands there, staring at the ground. He looks like he's deep in though and I'm just now realizing how close we are. I really should sleep with a shirt on because here I am, standing way too close to a confused Baz dressed like Dracula, wearing only pajama bottoms and my cross.

I continue to just stand there, waiting for Baz to gather his thoughts and say something, anything.

"Oh." He finally says. Is now really the time for him to be at a loss for words?

"Baz, I-"

"Does my hair really look better when I don't slick it back?" He asks, looking up from the floor and into my eyes.

"It really does. And it's even worse now it looks like you've smothered it in butter." I say, smiling.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" He asks, his mouth turning into a small smile.

"Hey, shut up!" I shove his shoulder and he stumbles back a few steps.

We're both laughing now and I've never seen anything more beautiful. Baz's eyes are lit up and brighter than I've ever seen them before, his mouth open and his fake fangs on full display.

As our laughter starts to die down, I notice that I'd grabbed his hand at some point. I hold onto it, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles and bring my other hand up to cup the side of his face.

"Simon-" He starts to say but I cut him off with my hand in his mouth (romantic, right?).

I pull the fake set of teeth out of his mouth and before he can scold me for being gross and shoving my fingers in his mouth, I shut him up with my mouth on his.

He's hesitant at first but I work my lips against his until he starts to move back against me. I feel him place his hand gently on my hip and I lean into his touch, moving slightly closer to him. My hand moves to grab the back of his neck as I pull him even closer to me.

The kiss starts slow but gradually gets more heated and he's unlacing our fingers, moving his hand to tug at my hair. He starts to pant into my mouth and I decide to pull away, moving my hands down to his waist and keeping them there, resting my head against his forehead.

He reaches up to my mouth with his thumb and slowly runs it over my bottom lip, pulling it out and releasing it. When he pulls it away, I can see the fake blood from his vampire makeup that got on my mouth. Instead of wiping it on his pants like any normal person would do, he puts his thumb in his mouth and slowly sucks on it, keeping eye contact with me the whole time.

"You're so gross." I whisper.

"Snow, I'm a vampire. I drink blood, specifically other people's blood." It's not even my blood but I let him get away with it and instead lean in to kiss his stupid vampire mouth again.

[gampires]

Halloween Bash

Summary: it’s Simons first Halloween he is celebrating and Watford is having a party. He plans to ask Agatha out but things don’t go as planned.

Word count: 1233

Wattpad: Gampires

______

Chapter 1

Simon never celebrated Halloween before, he hardly knew what it was. At the orphanages they never did any decorations for holidays other than Christmas or Easter.

They weren't even allowed to talk about it, some said it was the devils holiday.

Simon didn't understand why though. It looked like fun, dressing up as your idol and getting free food. Sign Simon up.

He always hoped he could celebrate one day, but that dream left when he went to Watford. Maybe it should have been the other way around, no one was stopping him from doing it. But for some reason when he learned about magic it all seemed kind of foolish. He also didn't want Baz to pick on him for celebrating such holiday.

It was his fifth year at Watford when he heard about the Halloween Bash Watford was having. He was thrilled to hear about it, a party where he can hang out with Agatha and Penny with no worry's about the Humdrum.

He didn’t understand why they hadn’t done it the last four years but he decided it didn’t matter.

He was finally going to ask Agatha out. That’s all that mattered.

The party was in two weeks and Simon could hardly wait. He still had to figure out how to ask her out though. Whenever he would ask Penny, Agatha would show up before Penny could answer. But today he made sure Agatha couldn’t interrupt him-he had told her the Mage wanted to talk to her about the party. He will probably get crap for it later but he will deal with it when it comes.

“Penny, I need an idea quick.”

She sits across from Simon and she is practicing some spell.

“Huh?”

“I said I need an idea to ask Agatha to the Halloween Bash.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Oh that stupid thing.”

“You’re only mad because you don’t have a date.”

She jabs her fork at him, splashing gravy in his tie.

“Hey I could get someone if I wanted to, but I already have Micah.”

“Ah, Yes the American.”

Simon works the gravy out of his tie as she speaks

“It’s not like you have anyone either.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, “Yes, that’s why we are here. Now how should I ask her out?”

“I don’t know Simon, I never asked a girl out.”

“Yes, but you are one. Or at least somewhat.”

“Ha, good one.” She says sarcastically, “why don’t you just ask Baz? He has probably asked a girl out before. He knows a thing or two.”

Simon scowls “And give him another reason to tease me? I think not.” But now he actually considers it. He probably has asked a girl out before, and she most likely said yes. But that would probably been because of the fact he’s bloody perfect.

He sighs “This is pointless, Penny. She’s never going to say yes anyways.” He rest his chin on his hands and she pats his shoulder.

“That’s not the spirit Simon! It’s Halloween! You’ll find a way, don’t worry.” Simon nods and tries to smile. His gaze goes to Baz. Maybe he could help.

“You know what? Screw it, I am going to ask her out.”

“Really? You’re just going to ask her out? No big surprise? Wow Simon, you do not know a thing.”

“Whatever, I am done thinking about. The more I do the more I want to back out.”

And then Agatha walks in, she looks frustrated- probably because of Simon-but then Dev gets up from his table and walks over to her.

He cast a spell Simon can’t make out and blue birds come in holding a poster that says, Agatha, my dear, will you go to the Bash with me?.

Simons mouth drops and he expects her to decline but then she doesn’t. She actually looks happy.

“P-Penny?”

“Oh, Simon. I am sorry.” She is frowning and Simon is frozen.

Dev returns to his table grinning and Baz gives him a pat in the back.

Agatha sits down next to Simon,

smiling.

“Wow did you guys see that? That totally made my day.”

“Y-yeah that was great Agatha. I’m really happy for you.” He forces himself to smile at her, “I just have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

He stands up, unclenching his hands and wiping his palms on his slacks. He walks over to the door and quicken his pace once he gets out of the room.

Simon actually goes to the bathroom and runs water over his face. He stands there and looks in the mirror. He does know why he’s so worked up about this. He hadn’t even had an idea. Maybe she was better off with Dev.

No he thinks.

This is his first Halloween and it is going to be bloody perfect and he will do anything to keep it that way. He will even do the impossible; ask Baz for help.

____

Simon walks in the room that night slamming the door close. That startles Baz, who is sitting at his desk doing homework.

“Bloody hell, Snow. Do you have to knock the door off it’s hinges every time you enter?” He sneers at Simon.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and plop on his bed.

It’s quite for another few seconds before he talks.

“Hey, Baz?”

“Snow?”

“Could you help me with something?”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. When he sees Simons am not joking he stops laughing.

“You’re serious? Snow you have hated me since you first laid eyes in me and are convinced I am a plotting vampire. Why would I help you?”

“I need you to help me get a date.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to make Agatha jealous, so she will date me.”

“Snow, that makes no sense. And why would I help you steal Devs girlfriend? You know how long it took him to perfect that spell?”

He goes back to doing his work and Simon sits there for awhile thinking.

What could he do to make Baz help him?

“I won’t leave the window open for the rest of the year.” He blurts out.

Baz raises an eyebrow and nods.

“Okay. I will help you, but you can’t tell Dev.”

“Okay.” Simon grins and sticks out his hand.

“Shake On it.”

“You’re funny if you think I am going to touch your hand.”

“Come on Baz, just do it.” He pleads

Baz sighs and shakes his hand.

“Tomorrow I’ll find you a date.”

“Really? That soon?” He grins “perfect.”

____

The next day at lunch Agatha won’t stop talking about her plans for the dance and Penny just keeps nodding along.

Simon just try’s to ignore her. Soon he will win her over.

Baz walks it with a dozen orange and purple roses and a card.

He starts to walk over to a table and it takes Simon a minute to realize it’s his table.

Baz stops just in front of him.

“Simon Snow, will you be my date to the Bash?” He says and Simons jaw drops.

_____

Dun-dun- duhhhh

What will happen next? You will never know😈

Just kidding you will probably know by Thursday😂 so this is a Halloween “special” and I will try and post every other day leading up to Halloween. The last chapter shall be posted on Halloween!😁

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #35)

(cw: discussion of addiction) ----------

01/23/88   4:02 PM

Hey.

So. I’d admitted that I was an addict. 

Which was, as I’d realize in the days after, not just a sentence you could say and be over with. It was an admission to so many things, many of which I’d been trying so hard not to believe over the course of my addiction. That it really was that bad. That it wouldn’t just go away with time. That I could not stop of my own free will. That I couldn’t fix myself alone.

That counselling really was my one chance at beating this thing for good. 

Which, in itself, was a scary thought. If it was my last chance, I could not screw it up. And I’ve always loved screwing things up. It’s so, so important that I get this thing right, and it’s been really hard at points to picture myself doing that. Even as early as the second step, I felt doomed to fail.

The second step, of course, is Hope. 

Hope that a higher power could save us from ourselves.

Yeah. It’s not that I don’t believe in the Devs. I do, unfortunately. It’s just that I’ve always believed they’re fickle dickwads who don’t give a crit about any of us. They’ve only ever been a source of pain for me. Honestly, I outright hate the Devs. So being faced with this idea that if I didn’t find faith, I could not complete this extremely important counselling, I was understandably more than a little stressed. I didn’t get why that had to be part of the deal. So many of the steps are built around this faith. It’s integral. I had to beg the question: Do only Devout deserve saving?

Fix-it’s response to my spirited rants was to suggest that it did not necessarily have to be the Devs, just a higher power. Something bigger than him or me, some deeper meaning to life, something I truly believed in. Like he, himself, while he is a practicing Devout, places more importance on ‘duty’ than anything else. ‘Duty’ informs his actions, ‘duty’ colors his lens of the world. I probably don’t need to tell you the jokes I made out of that. He didn’t seem to get it.

That widened things up, I’ll give him that. But it widened them too much. I could either pick the Devs, or pull something out of my ass and make a religion out of it. The latter sounds like something I’d only enjoy doing while high, for cuss’ sake. I’ve never been too big on philosophies in general. Partying hard had always been enough of a philosophy for me, but then I went and partied too damn hard and wound up the mess that I was. A junkie with no rhyme or reason.

Step two was looking even more depressing than expected.

On the night before my third session, Fix-it brought out a surprise that he thought might help me relax or cheer up or what have you. He laid down a tarp, a few blank canvases, and gave me an assortment of tubes of paint and scraggly, used brushes. I was a little taken aback. I so rarely use normal, boring, non-magical paint. I was worried that using it would just make me feel worse about my brush still being on the fritz, but I was drawn to the naked canvases anyway. Fix-it sat at the table and watched as if he had put down food for a feral raccoon and wanted to give it space. Having him watch may have bothered me at one point in time, but he had done a genuinely pretty cool thing for me. I’d deal.

And let’s be real -- I am a feral raccoon.

It didn’t take me long to decide what to paint. The one thing that had been consistently on my mind: Revenge on Worluk. All in various gruesome ways. In one painting, I’d ripped her throat out with my teeth. In another, I crushed her with a giant fly swatter. The last one, which was my favorite, showed her dismembered and built into a chair that I was sitting on.

Fix-it said they were all beautiful, and they’d look so good on the shelf in the broom closet. I argued for a place in the kitchen, but no, he insisted that they’d look better in the closet.

As I worked, as I painted the gnarly details on that bug’s face, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had done for step two. What was her higher power? What could she possibly turn to for peace after what she had done to me? The Devs? Duty? Or are there just some things you can never make peace with? That is, if she even felt remorse for it at all. I couldn’t imagine a remorseful pixel in her body.

And then that led to me thinking, of course… What about me? What could ever really bring me peace? I knew for sure that I felt remorse. I definitely wished I had not gone down the path I did over the course of… well, ever since you left. I’d seen and done some really awful things. There was Tapper, there was that poor sap I threatened for a hit of GC, there was… everyone else I’d come in contact with, really. My actions had taken a darker turn than I’d ever gone down before, even in my past pits of depression. My mind was so haunted by then, I didn’t recognize it anymore. Relentless, nightmarish thoughts plagued me all the time. Trauma, guilt, hopelessness, existential questions without answers. Your death, and the blame I placed on myself. My Dev-given, meaningless lot in life. Hatred from what felt like the entire arcade over a crime I didn’t commit, enough to nearly get me killed. All this weighed down on me. It had trapped me. And the only escape I could ever see was in buffs. The thing that I felt the most fondness for, the thing that I had come to long for above all else, was a mind-numbing high. Buffs could save me from my mind, even if they ended up killing it in the process. 

That was my argument in favor of the addiction.

I had to find something, anything, that would bring a counter-argument strong enough to hold up. My guilt for hurting Tapper, while it was very deep and genuine, would only have so many legs to stand on. I even remembered my weird, buff-induced conversation with the river, wherein I realized I owed my own survival to you… and to myself. That had been a groundbreaking epiphany at the time. But it was not enough. I knew that.  Because I remembered what it felt like to be in the thick of my addiction, and I remembered how no one around me mattered anymore. Nothing I owed to anyone else would make a difference to me if I relapsed and fell back into that state of mind. Neither would anything I owed myself, certainly, not with my self-preservation offline. And in the face of all those facts... I was scared.

I didn’t feel safe. I felt like the floor beneath me could have broken at any moment, and I’d lose control again. I needed something to hold onto that could actually bear my weight, because I had become quite heavily burdened. But I had no idea what that thing could be.

It was so frustrating, nearly enough to bring me to tears as I painted. I kept remembering what Wreck-it told me when we fought, about how I didn’t actually want to get better, how I just wanted to keep using everybody, so there was no use helping me. That in particular stuck with me. I didn’t understand why at first. Maybe that was true when he said it. But it wasn’t anymore. 

I didn’t want to be miserable anymore. I didn’t want to be a plague on everyone around me, not really. I wanted to get better. But the means to do so felt like a cruel puzzle I couldn’t solve. Like a battle I had already lost.

Fix-it went to bed, but I stayed up into the night painting and pondering. Even after I was done, I took one of the paintings and began slowly and idly covering it with lazy patches of color. I did some serious soul-searching that night. I tried to harness whatever it was that drove me as a living being. Whatever it was, it must have been old. Older than my knowledge of the Devs, even. I tried to cast my mind back to my very first days and remember what inspired me then, before the Devs’ gospel tainted my life. But I couldn’t come up with anything substantial. Fun, mischief, laughter, all very important things, but no solid foundations for philosophies. Philosophies that could keep me away from substances, mind you.

It seemed hopeless. But I tried to relax with my painting. I took deep breaths and let the color flow, creating no image in particular. Just beautiful, abstract motions that felt self-soothing in the cleanest way I had attempted in a while. It really did feel great to have access to a full spectrum of color again, even if it was real, physical paint and not magical like mine. I so deeply missed having full functionality of my tools. All that time without it, I’d felt like I was hobbling around with a missing limb. I need my color. It’s just embedded in who I am. Always has been.

My very first coherent thoughts after being plugged in were about the color pulsing inside my code.

I froze.

Was that it?

Could that even work?

The force bigger than me, the deeper meaning to life, the one thing that had been with me since the very first second I remember entering consciousness… well, that was color. I see it and feel it in all things, and always have. It inspires me. It does guide my actions, in a sense. 

But color? It felt too obvious, almost. It was one of the most important things in the world to me. But could I really pull a philosophy out of it?

I felt cold, but not in a bad way -- more like a refreshing breeze on a sweaty day. But that breeze also felt hundreds of miles high, with me suspended on this one new idea that I had to strengthen before it could break. What if there was something even bigger than the Devs? Something that ignored games, roles, class, age, gender? Something that, if I played my cards right, could free me from the life I felt trapped in?

Something strong enough to weaponize against the Devs’ presence in my mind?

Even kill it for good?

I remember bursting into Fix-it’s room and scaring the bits out of him. I leapt onto his bed and stained the blanket with my paint-splattered hands.

“Color,” I said firmly.

Fix-it stammered, reaching to turn on the lamp. “Wha-- Wha-- What’s-- Mavy?”

“Color,” I repeated. “That’s my higher power. I think. The thing I believe in? I think it might be color.”

He was quiet for a second, his hands raised cautiously, his mouth open in hesitation to speak. “Mavy-- Mavy, settle down, now--” he said, not really registering my relatively controlled demeanor after my very aggressive entrance.

“Don’t tell me to settle down,” I told him. For some reason, I was shaking with adrenaline. I was so unsure. I wanted to be right, but I barely felt like I had an idea.

“Oh, it’s-- It’s just that last time you started goin’ on about color, you went and stabbed your hand with a fork, so, I just wanna make sure you’re not gonna--”

“Oh...” I said, the memories blowing up in my brain. “The kaleidoscope. In my dreams-- trips-- whatever-- the kaleidoscope… Me becoming color…”

I held my sticky wet glove to my forehead, my mind connecting more and more wires. Every thought and memory coming into my head was telling me that I was right. I stared past Fix-it, feeling my heart pound. “That can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way. That all has to mean something, right?”

“C-Color?” 

“Yes!” I jabbed him in the shoulder, at which he groaned in pain. “That’s it! My stupid higher power homework. I think I’ve got it!”

I heard him give vague and confused murmurs of encouragement as he sank back down to the pillows. “That’s great, Mavy, that’s wonderful… I’m so… so happy for you...” And he was out like a light, even with the light still on.

Whatever, I thought. Maybe he didn’t understand, but I… sort of did. That was what mattered.

The following night, though, I’d have to put that thought to the test. I went into my third session of counselling with a nervous sweat. I would have to explain my revelation to the group in words, when so much of it was just… how I felt. I’d been running through my speech again and again up until the moment I sat in that circle of chairs, and as I did, I began to doubt myself more and more. I don’t know anything about making solid philosophies, or if what I made could even be considered a philosophy. Maybe my idea was actually garbage, and they wouldn’t accept it. It was so vague. I hadn’t even worked out all the kinks in it yet. I just hoped I would understand it more as I said it out loud.

Stage fright has never been a problem for me. I’m a born performer. But this was not a performance. This was real life. I had trouble opening up like that even to you, and now here I was in a room with sprites I barely knew, including one who tried to kill me. I definitely didn’t like the idea of showing vulnerability in front of her. I didn’t want her to know anything about me.

But I knew the drill. Just deal with it.

When the turns eventually came to me, I introduced myself as an addict, and told everyone that I’d done some work on step two. There were a couple claps and nods.

“Except,” I told them, “I, uh, didn’t pick the Devs as my higher power. That’s not against the rules, is it?”

“No, no, of course not,” Clyde told me. “We have a few others here who also picked their own.”

“Charity,” someone said, waving slightly.

Another piped in, “Honor.”

Then, to my shock, the raspy voice of Worluk chimed in, with just about the most unexpected word I could think of.

“Friendship.”

Yeah. That threw me off. I tried not to raise my eyebrows so obviously at her, but I had to glance at least. I found her still not quite looking my way, but without a hint of shame in her body language. Who the hell was this chick?

I told myself to shake it off. The spotlight was on me, and I had no time to be tripped up by murderous mosquitoes. 

“What about you?” Clyde asked me. “Would you like to share?”

I swallowed. Now or never. “Sure. I picked, uh… color.”

Clyde’s featureless brows raised a bit, making my stomach clench in embarrassment. “Really? Well, that’s one we haven’t heard of before. What does color mean to you, Mavis?”

I looked out at the expectant faces. Except Worluk, who was still not looking, which I tried not to read into and just carry on. She could not ruin this for me. I had to be strong and confident, like I know I am. All I had to do was say a few words. It seemed like a simple thing to do, but I felt so damn seen, and I didn’t like it. I saw some impatient frowns from sprites who still didn’t want me there, I saw some eyes full of curiosity over what I’d say, but the rest just looked… neutral. Like I was just another part of the process. Like it didn’t matter to them either way if I fumbled or stuck the landing. 

Normally, I’d hate that. But in this context? It seemed to take so much pressure off. It wasn’t about them. It was my step to take, and they were just witnesses to it.

So I took a deep breath, and I just started talking.

“Color is… everything. I mean, it’s what I do, but it’s also who I am. Y’know, inside. Color is the first thing I remember from the moment I was plugged in. I don’t just see it, I feel it. And it’s… I mean, it’s in everything. Almost all of our games have color. That’s all we are at the end of the day, just blotches of color behind screens, and that’s… that’s kind of awesome, when you think about it. It’s something everyone has in common, no matter what game or role you’re programmed into. That makes things a bit simpler, y’know, to think of yourself not as a Good Guy or a Bad Guy or an Easter Egg, you’re just… a living splash of color.”

I wasn’t sure if I was actually making any sense, but to my surprise, I saw quite a few receptive faces even leaning in a bit to listen. They were intrigued, which was encouraging. So I took it a step further.

“As far as philosophies or things to live by, well… It just got me thinkin’ like... I’m an artist. And artists know that every color is useful. Any color can be mixed, or painted over, in any shade, in any shape. And usually…it takes a lot of different colors and shades to make a beautiful painting. So when you’ve been using the same color again and again, just monochrome, or even analogous, like I have… you’re not gonna be happy. There are so many things I’ve believed, so many things that I’ve thought to be absolute truths that have led me to take buffs. Like… I’ve never been into the whole Easter Egg thing. And I thought buffs were the only thing that could save me from that. But… maybe they’re not. Color, to me, feels like…”

I sighed, trying to pull the words out of myself. “...Flexibility. Possibility. An open mind, I guess. A new color is like a new way of thinking. And... there’s always another color. There’s always another way. And… y’know, it’s probably high time I started acting like it.”

There was silence for a moment. 

But then I saw smiles, and I heard claps, even some small words of encouragement. They were congratulating me and thanking me for sharing. Even some sprites that had given me standoffish looks before were giving me grudging nods.

I… did it. I did it right.

I could hardly believe it. I felt like I’d just spilled out some of my ugliest, most confusing guts, but they loved it.

I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. It was too heavy. I was too vulnerable. 

But all I could do was… grin.

“Mavis,” Clyde said, “thank you so much for sharing. That’s just fantastic to hear. You’re gonna do great things here -- and remember that even when you stumble, it’s that faith of yours that’s going to lift you back up again. You’re going to have to hold onto it from here on out. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah,” I sighed so hard, it made me dizzy. “Yeah, of course.”

There was a bit more discussion, and the meeting carried on as usual, as if I hadn’t just done something incredible (for me, anyway). But I had a feeling I was going to have to get used to that. Bending myself in unnatural ways to reach this lofty goal of sobriety, and then carrying on as if everything was normal.

Because that was going to be the new normal, after all.

And my first night in that new normal, I tried to find ways to embody my colorful philosophy in whatever small way I could. I looked around at everyone in the circle, and I asked myself to examine the colors that each of them made me feel, beyond what I could see. Specifically Worluk, the one who had been giving me so much trouble, making me so much more nervous than I already was.

To me, she felt… like a toxic yellow. Barely touched with green. Just bright, garish, nauseating and impossible to ignore. While everyone else just blended into each other’s vague, muted tones. It became very apparent just how much I had been ignoring the rest of the group and honing in on her.

Surely, there was something I could do about that.

I wasn’t sure how effective it would be, but I dared to challenge myself with this: If I could not mute Worluk’s color in my mind, maybe I could at least let the rest of the group grow brighter.

[rambamboo]

Yo you're like the only person I can find on tumblr that goes to/talks about AAU (that's kinda weird to me) but I'm an incoming freshmen and I wanted to ask for your... idk review(?) of the school. Like what do you like, what do you hate, and if you would recommend it? Thanks in advance!

lmao there’s a few of us we just don’t talk about .. i mean i don’t even talk about it besides the fact that it says in my faq but a bunch of ppl on here just randomly started asking me about it out of the blue so LOL

some other active tumbl arteests that go here/graduated recently are moopdrea (vis dev) and celihime (illustration) if you want to ask them things too. don’t tell them i sent you lmao

long post under cut

i guess what i like about aau/my program is gonna be diff from other ppl… and majors treat you v differently here … like animation, vis dev, and illustration seem like they would be in the same vein but they have totally different requirements, workloads, atmosphere etc

things i like:

personally there are some classes that legit changed my life and my entire view on art and myself .. like ive been extremely humbled compared to who i was in 1st year

most profs i’ve had are rly sweet ppl that genuinely wanna help you but idk if that’s specific to my major/focus (illustration - comics)

with stuff like the annual spring show and all the connections the school has, if you’re reALLY good at the time you’re about to graduate you can prob land a sweet gig(some rly awesome graduates in recent years work at disney, cartoon network, marvel, dc, etc now but pls note this is just a fraction of graduates)

things i don’t rly like:

not every prof does this but a lot of profs i’ve had are big into the mindset that it’s glorious to overwork to death for your art/cut ‘useless’ ppl out of your life etc (some profs aren’t into this at all but yeah a lot of profs do tho)

just gonna say this outright … in some classes i didn’t learn shit and wasn’t into it lmao

oh yeah there’s an 80% dropout rate or at least that’s what it was when i first came here LMAO. the program is also 5.5 years!!! not the standard 4 and idk why they don’t tell you this more clearly :^)))

this isn’t rly a thing i like nor dislike but i think prospective students should know that the grading system is real tough, at least in my major. if you do a pretty good assignment you get a C, A means professional level, and D means fail. so it’s not something you can cruise by in with last-minute work, at least in my major (i think in other majors they’re more lax about it)

^those things are about the actual classes but w stuff like facilities it’s like alright? just little things like if you’re not an animation/gamedev student or don’t have a digital class you can’t use the cintiq/intuos labs without paying a fee, the meal plans are expensive and the cafe food isn’t rly good (also they’re overcrowded a lot of the time), dorms are shoddy and also expensive lmao … it’s a for-profit school in sf so this is just what it is

i can’t just say whether or not i’d recommend the school i think it depends on a ton of different factors bc ppl come from different walks of lifei have learned A LOT here but at the same time the amount of mental breakdowns i’ve had from financial strain and beating myself up are just incredibleee lmao ….. you also v likely will have to overwork … especially in my major at least. there’s assignments that i’m rly not joking i spend 40 hours per week on, so that my profs won’t yell at me. and there have been some finals weeks where i slept like 20 minutes per night for like 3-4 days in a row. i have a friend in my major who gets A’s in all her classes who said during finals one semester she’d wake up in the morning and have to throw up and then go straight to class bc she was so overworked??i mean i’m rly not trying to scare you but no one told me how things would be before i came here so i feel like i should tell ppl now that i know what it’s like …… you rly have to work that much sometimes just so that you can get a grade above C (it’s not like that for every class but some classes are v intense)

I FEEL LIKE I’M SAYING A LOT OF NEGATIVES AND MAKING IT SOUND LIKE HELL LMAO but i mean …. i!!! like i rly dO love how much i’ve learned here and all the amazing experiences i’ve had (like near epiphanies lmao) and i’ve met many priceless friends as well ….. everyday is still good for me and i’m grateful that i’m so privileged i can study here. but just pls be aware of some of the cons since not everything is sunshine and rainbows here

[loseitall-ff]

21. Part 2

Patting the side of the bed with my eyes still firmly closed “Robyn” I mumbled, opening my eyes and seeing an empty bed side. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I wonder where she is at. Scratching my chest looking around the room, last night was a beautiful night with my woman. Even though that happened with Robyn we got to spend the night together at least, I am hoping Robyn is feeling good though. Looking to my night stand and grabbing my phone, all that sex made me tired. Seeing the missed calls from my tour manager and manager, also missed call from Mijo. I feel so popular but it is all work, something I am hiding away from at the moment. Calling my tour manager, let me see what is good with him “yes, yes breezy” Dev said down the phone “what’s good Dev, did the stage make it to Australia?” I have this weekend left and then Monday I’m gone, I need to leave early because I want to rehearse on stage there, I don’t want to be going there last minute because this is a big tour and it will take it out of me “yeah it arrived, I am flying out tomorrow. Dancers, stylist, sound engineers the whole team they all flew out today, we got the tour bus ready, we just need the man himself. Your Support acts will be there soon, but everything good on our end, I just want to know that you are feeling it because you been a little off with things?” clearing my throat “what can I say, I am dealing with it. Just a little anxious, this is a big tour and I am going to miss my family but we will be good” this sucks, but I am trying to spend time with my family before I do go.

Walking down the steps with my phone pressed against my ear talking to Mijo “so what you finna do then? You want to go in business with me?” looking to the living area, Robyn is curled up on the couch with the open fire on watching TV “why not, I will do anything to help you and your family. You can go with this nightclub idea and I will put the money to it” walking over to Robyn, her head shot up looking at me “forreal?” he said in shock “why you acting mad shocked? I got you, just send me the details and I will help you out with the cash flow” leaning down and pressing a kiss to Robyn’ lips “thank you bro, you finna come to my niece party though. Ron invited you? It’s tomorrow” sitting next to Robyn “I am planning on spending that time with my family bro” rubbing my chin “erm” I don’t know what to do “you know what, I will come through with shawty for a while” I guess I can do that “yeah come with Rih, just come for a while” I want to spend time with them before I go but don’t want to let them down.

Robyn placed her legs over my lap “you good?” placing my phone at the side of me “kind of, I couldn’t really sleep. Then I was just watching people talk about me on social media, I acted stupid and I looked stupid on the video. My brother text me asking where I was” I can tell she hasn’t slept “fuck what people think, fuck them all Robyn. Don’t be sad over that shit, you just need to concentrate on you. They don’t know what you have been through so fuck em, what did your stupid brother want anyways?” it will be something stupid because the guy is a dick “asking where I am, I told him that it has nothing to do with him so he called me a bitch” shaking my head “can I punch him? He is a straight up bitch!” Robyn shook her head “please do not do that, I don’t need it. I can handle him, he just knows I am with you because he’s not stupid. I need to get back though” Robyn looks so beautiful without make-up I admire her beauty, I am so damn lucky “I promise, for you I will be good because I need to be in their good books too” I really want to punch Rorrey.

Robyn yanked her feet away from me “what you doing?” I asked smiling “you touching my feet, I am a little ticklish” she placed her feet just under my thigh “I am touching my baby’ feet, so what” she zipped my jacket up hiding her face “I just feel and look like shit, I am embarrassed. But I saw what you got Mel and I feel a little jealous” oh no, rolling my eyes “so is Mel apart of the Black Pyramid team now? Why did I not get a chain” I knew Robyn would do this “well I like Mel, my team needs some females so I thought why not. Did she get the delivery?” looking over at Robyn “she did but where is mine Chris? I should be first lady” she whined, sighing out “I am right Chris, I should be the first lady of Black Pyramid. I should have a unique chain like you all” rubbing the side of my face laughing “you really like the chain? It’s like mine but a little more girly” it was so last minute, I am glad it looks good “yes I do like it, Chris stop. I am jealous, I want a delivery of all your clothing line and chain. This is not fair” staring at Robyn in confusion “I bought you an engagement ring and besides, we shouldn’t even be together” Robyn snatched her feet away from under my thigh “hate you, I am jealous and want it” reaching over and pulling the jacket down away from her face “I will see what I can do for you, just Mel can promo my shit too” Robyn gets so jealous about shit now.

Mijo is really excited about this business venture, all I know is that I will be paying out but in the long run it will be a good thing. It will make money for the both of us, he has sent me picture of the place he wants to buy “what you and Mijo about to do? I heard you speaking” moving my eyes away from my phone “going into business together, and oh yeah. It’s Mijo’ sister daughter party tomorrow, I need to drop by. You coming with me too and you need to pack a weekend bag for Liana and yourself, spending some time together. I need to buy a few things and I will be all yours tomorrow” I actually need to check with my nigga, I want to go to the Lakers game tomorrow “you fancy going to a Basketball game with me?” looking back at my phone “I rather you don’t go, you’re going to be gone for so long Chris. I don’t like your schedule, it looks so busy. It’s like you move to Europe for months!” locking my phone not knowing what to say “you can come out to me?” placing my phone down “I need to get Liana back in school, I think I have done enough with taking her out. Monday she goes back, I am trying to keep her in there for as long as I can. I will bring my album out and you will be out there, I can’t share that with you” I was waiting for Robyn to make me feel like I wanted this.

Rubbing the top of my head “Robyn I didn’t ask for this, it’s my job. I understand you have a job too, but in everyone’s eyes we live separate lives so of course they are not going to schedule me in thinking of you or Liana, I am going to be sad as fuck. I am suffering the most here, I won’t even see my daughter. She is always changing on me, she always learns something new and then I got you. I am losing out of this, I am sad as fuck. I’ll be on tour for Liana’ birthday” she thinks I am not suffering when I am “sorry” Robyn said “it’s cool, just trust me when I say that I am going to miss you so much” Robyn moved up from the couch and crawled over to me, climbing on to my lap facing me “sorry, I was being selfish but I just love you” placing her hands at the side of my face “please be safe out there, I am so scared to lose you. You are my everything” pecking my lips with hers “same baby, I love you too. I want you to be strong” wrapping my arms around Robyn.

Placing a blunt between my lips as I closed my front door, unlocking my car door for Robyn as she shuffled towards the car. She is wearing my boxers, long tee and jacket with my Gucci slides on that are too big for her feet, but she has nothing else to wear but that. Seeing my neighbour leave their home at the same time as me, looking at him as he stared at both Robyn and I, he just smiled looking away “oh my gosh!” hearing Robyn half shout, turning my head staring ahead of me seeing Robyn looking at the ground sitting in the car. Looking at the ground, I chuckled seeing the Gucci slide on has fell off her foot “they are so big for my feet” moving the blunt away from my lips blowing out the smoke, picking up the slide on “it’s cool” leaning down and placing it back on her foot “you’re so cute” Robyn beamed, moving back and closing the car door.

“Can I drop you off at the front of your home or down the road like always? I actually don’t want you to be walking around with your legs out” I pointed out “they are only my legs” she said, I shrugged “no man can see them besides me now” I joked turning off on the road “Chris, there is something I need to tell you before we get to my place” looking over at Robyn “you want me to park up? We are literally here” looking in the rear-view mirror before I parked up on the side road “I mean you didn’t have too but thank you, just last night you asked me about protection. If I am taking anything, I said I am didn’t I” nodding my head “yeah you did” turning the music down a little more “I lied, I am not taking anything at all” my eyes widened “is this where you tell me you are pregnant?” I said feeling nervous as shit right now, Robyn giggled “no, I’m not pregnant. I just didn’t want to lie to you and make you think I am on something when I am not” letting out an oh going silent “there is a reason why you’re not on anything, does that mean you are trying for a baby?” I rather she tell me if she is, Robyn shrugged “I don’t know, I just think why wait? Let nature take its course, to have more kids with the man I love is something I wouldn’t stop. Are you upset with me?” shaking my head “nah, I’m not upset. Anything you feel is right I will do, not like we are getting any younger so why not” Robyn’ face broke into a smile “I thought you would have been annoyed with me, to be honest if it happens then it does but I will let nature take its course” leaning over and pressing a kiss to Robyn’ cheek “I wouldn’t ever be annoyed with you, I rather you be truthful with me. Just be that with me ok?” Robyn nodded her head “I promise” that is all I want.

Robyn actually let me park outside the home and drop her off, nobody will see me anyways because her family went out so it is just Robyn home alone “I would invite you in but we might end up having sex and I don’t want to get caught, but thank you for dropping me off home handsome. I will give you your clothes back when I see you tomorrow” turning the car engine off “keep it” I said while unbuckling my seatbelt “yay! It smells of you so I am happy” she is so cute “so tomorrow then, I got lots in store for us as a family. Get lots of rest and I will pick you up” I do have a lot planned for them, it’s hard to fit it in all in one day so I may need to take things out “thank you for being considerate, spending every moment with us. I love it” smiling a little “well I got my auntie and mom coming with me, meeting the fans you see so they deal with that part. Liana not going to see gamma either for a while, my sister did say she will come and take her out with Desean if you don’t mind” Robyn doesn’t look pleased “didn’t know your mom was going but I guess it will be nice for Liana to spend some time with her auntie and cousin, Liana is really going to miss you both” now Robyn looks even more sad.

[gobigorgohome2016]

On Being Bold

I keep a running list in my journal of topics I want to cover in my blog.  Unfortunately, the list has been growing faster than I can write, since I have been quite busy lately with 90+ mile weeks, coaching, and writing.  

A couple weeks ago, I wrote down “imposter syndrome” (or lack thereof) in my journal, and have been letting that phrase marinate in my mind.  Ironically, the phrase has come up 6 times in the past week, organically, and three times with three different people just today.  I figure it’s time to unleash my thoughts. 

My running joke with my friends and family lately is that I feel like I can attribute a lot of my success in running to the fact I have the opposite of impostor syndrome.  to a fault.  In fact, I’m 99% positive that the reason some people find me so grossly obnoxious is because of this trait.

The truth is, I’ve never felt out of place when I’m running or racing.  In fact, the times I feel most out of place are when I didn’t surprise myself with my finishing time or place.  Does that sound douche-baggy?  Probably.

But, what could you achieve if you were too dumb to know what failure looked like?  What if you knew nothing about what it took for others to succeed?  What if, instead of thinking that you had to outwork the person next to you, that you simply had to work the right level for you?  

Even though I was happy after my Houston race [truth be told, I have decided that if I’m going to be poor AF and make a shit ton of investments into the most unforgiving of sports, I’m going to be damn pleased with myself every time I cross a finish line], there was still a big part of me that was left wanting more.

Have I experienced impostor syndrome in the past in regards to running?  I would say the closest I have come was last year at Houston, where I knew the times I had previously run (PR of 1:17:19) didn’t exactly preclude me to be part of the field of women I was competing with.  It wasn’t that I didn’t feel I belonged, but I understood that if someone questioned whether it would have been more appropriate for me to be in the American Development field at that time, well, yeah - the answer would have been yes.  But, I also know that if I had been placed in the Am Dev field I would have been pissed.  

When I was in Houston I used my 8 mile run on Friday to reflect on where I’d been, and where I was going.  So much had changed in a year, yet so much had stayed the same.  The novelty of casually running into Ryan Hall and Jordan Hasay in the dinner buffet line had worn off; I have grown used to traveling solo on my “business trips”; when the person sitting next to me on the airplane asks what I do, I still take every opportunity to say “professional runner” instead of “coach” or “freelance writer.”  

I still look at my result at the end of the day and know it could be - it should be - better.  

Some people will say that I am hard on myself; I will say that my lack of impostor syndrome is showing.  I have never believed I don’t belong anywhere; on the other hand, I have always felt I belonged in places I probably didn’t.  

Take college, for instance.  I did not belong in college.  Did I belong in college D1 running?  yes.  Did my grades or academic work ethic mean I belonged in a double major of chemistry and literature with a math minor?  No.  Did I know any better or care when I failed more exams than I passed?  no. 

Did I belong in grad school?  My GPA, lack of relative lab experience, inability to express myself in a concise manner, utter disregard of hierarchy, and true lack of basic chemistry knowledge really probably meant I didn’t.  But, I did not know any better.  Despite my personal struggles with grad school, I was actually pretty accomplished, having won a few awards at conferences and within the department, as well as earning a fellowship. 

Lack of impostor syndrome can be a double edged sword, though.  Sometimes, people think they see through you and believe you are taking from them what they think is theirs.  This situation is the worst, because not only do you feel powerless, but also super annoyed.  Like, sorry, I can’t control what opportunities people feel inclined to give me - or anyone else.  I was de-friended on facebook recently by a former teammate, and I have a sneaking suspicion my lack of impostor syndrome (sometimes confused with cockiness) was to blame.  Actually, I am defriended often, and I’m sure that’s part of the reason. 

I learned early on that the best way to weed out the people worth surrounding yourself with is to believe you belong somewhere.  When I had trouble making friends in college, I studied the behaviors of others (I feel like this sounds less weird if I point out I was first a psychology major).  The people who made friends the easiest were also the ones who put themselves down the most, and who visibly lacked self-esteem.  Crying, “omg i hate my life, I can’t find a boyfriend, and I want to quit school” seemed to be the siren song that attracted hoards of new friends. 

On Sunday, my coach had told me to be bold during the race, and I took it to heart.  I suppose I’m not one who often needs the reminder, so I thought to myself:  what if I tried to be bolder?  With 5k to go in the race, I said those words out loud as I saw women ahead, coming back to me.  I kept willing myself to go and catch her, and she (and others) came back to me.  

The interesting thing I noticed:  I was more willing to be bold when I knew no one was behind me who could catch me if I failed.  What does that say?  Perhaps that the perception of failure holds me back sometimes?  What could I do if I were in a perpetual state of last place in a solid field?  Would I perform better than if I was in the middle of a decent field?  #deepthoughts

Interestingly, when I chose where to run in college, I wanted to get away from the feeling that I was a big fish in a little pond.  For 3 years of high school I was the top runner on the team, and I was terrified of that position being challenged.  I desperately needed out of the constant anxiety surrounding the question of what if one day I wasn’t the best?

At Marquette, I had moments where I was the best, and plenty of moments where I wasn’t.  I don’t know that this situation made me a better athlete, though, either.  

I really dislike running small, local races because I have always felt the most anxiety for them.  If I was supposed to win - and I don’t - how will I feel?  I notice that a lot of times, I’m more afraid of how will I feel? than the actual underlying cause.  At this point I know that I don’t just perform poorly for no reason.  If someone beats me or I run a bad time it’s because a) the person was simply better than me on that day, b) I’m not in shape, or c) something happened completely out of my control.  

In 2017, my goal is to run the A-standard for the Olympic Trials.  To my knowledge, the A-standard has not been released (the B standard is still 2:45).  I realized that my goal is not going to change whether the A-standard is announced as 2:27 or 2:37.

I found out recently that the 2017 (and 2018) US marathon championships will be held at CIM.  Just in the few days since finding this out, I feel extremely renewed in my running, like purpose has been restored.  That’s not to say that I didn’t feel a purpose before, more so that it confirms for me that the marathon sets my soul on fire in ways that other distances don’t.  

I have often wondered why it is so easy for me to go out and willfully do something that I don’t intrinsically love (train), when no one is forcing me to do it.  I am not a particularly disciplined person (just ask Dave - I WILL watch the shows we recorded this week even though I agreed not to until he comes home), yet something gets me out the door to run every single day.  This leads me to believe my heart is conscious that there is more left to achieve.  

I will - perhaps boldly - say that I believe the best is yet to come.  Simply because I have not reached the level yet where a tiny voice inside my head has told me that I don’t belong, and I know that is the voice I strive the most to prove wrong.