#<- person who did the chicken wing thing on purpose and now is regretting it

[miseria-fortes-viros]

yoooo guys these wings my dad made look INSANE i can’t wait to try them tomorrow

#helenaposting #icarus #icarusposting #guys there is more to this post PLEASE check the notes i cannot handle one more chicken wing comment #<- person who did the chicken wing thing on purpose and now is regretting it

[avengerscompound]

Bartoned - Chapter 40

Bartoned - A Hawkeye Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Rating:  E

Warnings:  nothing really

Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 3627

Summary:  Clint’s name has become synonymous with fucking things up.  When you have a one night stand with him, your whole life gets Bartoned.

A/N: Lyrics to the song; Marry You by Bruno Mars and an extract from  ‘How falling in love is like owning a dog’ by Taylor Mali.

Chapter 40

You woke at five to your alarm, hungover, still exhausted, and regretting all your life choices.  Clint started to push you using his knees, edging you to the side of the bed.  You groaned and turned off the alarm and sat up.  “Fuck this,” you complained.  “You sure we still have to get married?”

“Yes,” Clint mumbled.  “You’re the one that had to have the d last night.  Go.  Get ready.”

You rubbed your eyes and dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower.  When you got out, Clint was deep asleep again with his mouth hanging open, looking a lot like his daughter.  You dressed in sweats and headed out still feeling nauseated and exhausted.  Kari was dragging herself up the path of your house as you stepped outside looking just as miserable as you felt.  “Hope it was worth it,” she teased.

“I don’t remember,”  you grumbled.

“Alright, come on, I ordered a car so we can sleep in the back,” she said.

You did fall quickly to sleep in the back of the car only to be shaken awake again when you arrived at the hairdresser.

The next few hours were a complete whirlwind.  You were given your first glass of champagne while they were doing your hair and it wasn’t until you were on your third at the hotel getting your makeup done that you remember you hadn’t actually eaten yet.

Wanda arrived with Nattie at 11, both with their hair already set and you ordered up room service and had lunch before you got dressed.

By the time you put on your dress you weren’t feeling hungover though you might have moved past exhausted to tipsy and a little bit loopy.  You came out of the bedroom in your dress with your blue butterfly mask in your hand and Wanda squeaked.  “Oh my god!  You look like a fairy queen.”

“Mama… mama…” Nattie said toddling over and putting her hands on your skirt and making cooing sounds. She was wearing a cute little purple gown with matching feathered wings and a filigree mask.

“You look beautiful,” Kari agreed as the photographer took photos of you and Nattie.  “Are you ready to become Ms. Barton?”

“Yeah.  I guess I am,” you said and Wanda handed you your bouquet of blue and purple orchids.

You went downstairs to where your limo was waiting and it was a short drive to the Brooklyn Grange.  You got out and put on your masks.  Kari and Wanda straightened out your skirts and checked your hair before heading up the stairs.  Barney was waiting at the door to the roof and he gave Nattie the little teddy bear with the rings attached.  While you were still hidden from view, you could see the crowd waiting for you.  The aisle was set up between the garden beds with a long purple carpet and the guests stood in the gaps on either side.  Down the length of the carpet were small jack o' lanterns and the garden was full of sunflowers.  Clint stood by the edge of the roof with the celebrant, Natasha, and Kate.  He wore a long velvet coat in purple over a black vest and dress pants.  The vest had a strip of purple embroidery down from the neck down to the hem and matched the purple of his tie.  His mask was shaped like a hawk and in purple and black.

“You ready, Nattie?”  Barney asked.

“Umm…”  she said, looking around, obviously not sure what was happening and looking up at Barney in his red suit and a simple red mask.

“You follow me okay, kiddo.  Go right up to your dad,” he said and gave a signal to the band.

A beat started that was not anything like the song you had agreed to walk down the aisle to and you looked at Kari confused.  “Just watch,” she said.

Barney danced his way to the end of the aisle where all yours and Clint’s friends and family were sitting and Bobbi got up and met him at the end.  Then Clint began to sing.

“It’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do, hey baby, I think I’m gonna marry you,” he sang as Bobbi and Barney did an elaborate dance routine down the aisle that included flips, cartwheels, and a part where Barney lifted Bobbi off the ground and spun her.

“Oh my god,” you said laughing.  “This is what you’ve all been up to.  You nerds.”

“Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice?  Who cares, baby?  I think I want to marry you.”

Nattie charged down after them when she reached the aisle she began to bob and clap her hands as she watched her uncle dance with Bobbi.

“Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard, we can go, no one will no… come on girl.”

When Bobbi and Barney returned to their spots Clint danced down the aisle to meet his daughter.  He kneeled down like he was serenading her and she rushed into his arms.

“Who cares if we’re trashed?  Got a pocket full of cash.  We can blow… shots of patron, and it’s on, girl…”

He picked her up and began to dance with her as he held her back down the aisle.

“This is so cheesy,” you said, though you couldn't stop grinning.

“The song choice fits you two though,” Kari teased.  “You gotta admit.”

“See you down there,” Wanda said, giving your arm a squeeze.

“Don’t say no, no, no, no.  Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.  And we’ll go, go, go, go, go. If you’re ready, like I’m ready.”

She crouched down walking to the beat of the music and clicking her fingers as she approached the aisle.  Sam stepped out into the aisle facing her in the same position.

“I hate how I have to go after her.  Her bit is so much more impressive than mine,” Kari complained, but she kept her eyes on her wife, the look of both complete love and awe etched on her features.

“At least you’ve choreographed,” you teased.  “I’m the bride and I have no idea what is going on right now.”

“‘Cause it’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do.  Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you.”

Wanda took off in a bright pink ball of her light, using her powers to float down to Sam.  He caught her around the waist and the two spun up into the air above everyone.

“Is it the look in your eyes?  Or is it this dancing juice?  Who cares, baby?  I think I wanna marry you.”

They landed and Sam spun and dipped her before returning to his spot.  Rhodey stepped out and spun Wanda into his arms, her powers flared out again and the two of them moved down the aisle spinning in the air like they were waltzing.

“Wait for Nat,” Kari said.

“Oh, I’ll go get a ring, let the choir bells sing, like oohh.  Whatya wanna do?  Let’s run girl.”

You gave her a nod and she kissed your cheek before moving out in that same couched move, clicking her fingers as she approached the aisle.

“If you wake up and you wanna break up, that’s cool.  No, I won’t blame you.  It was fun, girl.”

Steve and Bucky met her at the end of the aisle mimicking her moves.  She ran to them and held out her arms.  They lifted her up and ran halfway down the aisle, before setting her to her feet and swing dancing with her in the middle of the floor.  Spinning her from one partner to another.

They lifted her up again and passed her to Tony and Bruce who stood another quarter of the way down and they carried her to the end of the aisle, spinning her between them before she took her spot next to Wanda.

“Don’t say no, no, no, no, no.  Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.  And we’ll go, go, go, go.  If you’re ready, like I’m ready,” Clint sang as he carried Nattie back down the aisle.

Wanda, Kari, Natasha, and Kate all ran around the outside of the guest.  Bobbi, Barney, Tony, Sam, Steve, Bruce, Bucky, and all the kids took after them as Rhodey moved down to the very end of the aisle.

“‘Cause it’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do.  Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you.  Is it the look in your eyes?  Or is it this dancing juice?  Who cares, baby?  I think I wanna marry you?”

The whole group danced down the aisle positioning themselves at various intervals down the aisle as Clint backed his way to the end again as he sang.

“Just say I do.  Tell me right now, baby.  Tell me right now, baby, baby.”

Natasha came over and offered you her arm.  You linked yours with her and tried to match the little groove she did as she moved to the end of the aisle.

“Just say I do.  Tell me right now, baby.  Tell me right now, baby, baby.  Oh!”

She kissed your cheek and added a purple feather with a gold arrow painted on it to your bouquet.

Rhodey beckoned you to him doing a side to side groove and then repeated the kiss and addition of a feather to your bouquet.  All the way down the process was repeated again and again with different dance moves.  Steve spun and dipped you.  Bucky lifted you up and twirled with you lifted above his head.  Tony did the chicken.  When you reached Clint, the band dropped out and he took your hand and sang directly to you.

“It’s a beautiful night.  We’re looking for something dumb to do.  Hey, baby.  I think I wanna marry you.  Is it the look in your eye?  Or is this dancing juice?  Who cares, baby?  I think I wanna marry you.”

Tears pricked your eyes but you couldn't stop grinning at your dork.  You leaned your forehead against his, your masks making a soft tap as they touched.  “You nerd,” you whispered.

He chuckled.  “I’m not the one crying right now.”

“Friends and loved ones,” the celebrant announced.  “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two people.  A couple who for all intents and purposes did everything in the wrong order.  And yet, here they are, standing in front of all of you, declaring that they are each other’s chosen person.

“This is not a union that should be entered lightly.  It is not made simply by a legal contract between two people, but by love, respect, trust, and support.  A good marriage is not made by a wedding but by those simple quiet moments, like holding hands when no one is around, and laughing at the ridiculous joke you share.

“In that spirit, Clint’s brother Barney will be reading ‘How falling in love is like owning a dog’ by Taylor Mali.”

Barney stepped up and cleared his throat.  “On cold winter nights, love is warm.  It lies between you and lives and breathes and makes funny noises.  Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.  It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.  Love doesn’t like being left alone for long.  But come home and love is always happy to see you.  It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life, but you can never be mad at love for long.  Is love good all the time? No! No!  Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.  Love makes messes.  Love leaves you little surprises here and there.  Love needs lots of cleaning up after.  Sometimes you just want to get love fixed.  Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper and swat love on the nose, not so much to cause pain, just to let love know, ‘Don’t you ever do that again!’  Sometimes love just wants to go out for a nice long walk.  Because love loves exercise. It will run you around the block and leave you panting, breathless. Pull you in different directions at once, or wind itself around and around you until you’re all wound up and you cannot move.  But love makes you meet people wherever you go.  People who have nothing in common but love stop and talk to each other on the street.  Throw things away and love will bring them back, again, and again, and again. But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.  And in return, love loves you and never stops.”

He returned to his place in the crowd and you grinned at Clint.

“We have now reached the point in the ceremony where our couple shall read their vows to each other,” the celebrant announced.

“I take you to be my wife,” Clint said.  “I promise that you will always be my home.  The person who I return to.  The person I prioritize.  My best friend and my lover.  You will always have my trust, my support, and my heart.  But most of all, I promise that when I freak out about stuff, I’ll talk it out with you.”

You smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.  “I take you to be my husband.  I promise that you will always be my home.  The person who I return to.  The person I prioritize.  My best friend and my lover.  You will always have my trust, my support, and my heart.  But most of all, I promise that I make sure I tell you exactly how I’m feeling so neither of us has to freak out.”

“May I have the rings please?”  The celebrant asked.

Natasha took the bear of Nattie who was sitting on the ground playing with a sunflower.  She untied the rings and put the bear back on the ground next to Nattie again.  Yours was white gold and shaped like an arrow on the top so it would point inward and your engagement ring would sit in against your engagement ring.  Clint’s was white gold with a band of yellow gold in the middle shaped like an arrow.

“Please repeat after me;” the celebrant said.  “I give you this ring as a symbol of my unbroken connection to you.”

You each slid the rings into place repeating the words the celebrant said.  

“Now by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss each other,” the celebrant announced.

You pushed your masks to the top of our heads and Clint pulled you close, you wrapped my arms around his neck and he kissed you deeply and passionately, dragging it out for as long as he could.  Just exactly how you both wanted

After the ceremony, there was the official paperwork to sign and photos to take.  Clint kept looking over wistfully at the waiters handing out little paddles with mini burgers and tiny glasses of beer and mini pizzas until Natasha went and got him some and he ate them while you were setting up for a group shot looking over the water.  The band played soft jazz as the guests waited for you and Clint to join them.

When you were finally done you wandered down to the covered area where several long tables had been set up under the canopy.  The tables were decorated with pumpkins and candles, and long dark purple runners and paper lanterns hung from the roof.  A long table ran down the wall where the different food stations would end up being set up, and right in the middle was the huge stack of donuts glazed in different shades of purple.

Steve got up to the mic and tapped it a few times before clearing his throat.  He was wearing a long blue coat and a Venetian style mask in blue and silver.  “If everyone would go to their seats,” he said.  Everyone moved to their allocated spot, though no one took their seats.  All the kids were together nearest the dance floor, though Doreen was holding Nattie.  “Our backward couple have all taken a strange road to get here, but here they are.  So if you’d all welcome for the very first time, Mr. and Ms. Barton.”

You and Clint walked down the middle of the tables to applause and the band started playing ‘Are you gonna be my girl’ by Jet.  Clint began to dance around you doing the well-rehearsed jive moves you’d both been working on.  When the riff changed he spun you into his arms, so your back was to his and the two of you moved together, your feet matching each other’s steps as you moved forward.  Nattie toddled out onto the dance floor and Clint spun you again picking her up as you twirled, the butterfly wings that made up your skirt flare out.  He grabbed your hand and started to run.  You grabbed Natasha’s hand and she grabbed Wanda’s, and so on, and so on until most of the wedding guests were running in a chain to the music, around the tables, winding in and out of each other, up and down the garden beds.  You couldn’t stop laughing and you soon became breathless and giddily happy seeing so many people joining in on the ridiculous but fun first dance you’d both chosen that drew in everyone that was important to you both.

When the music stopped you took your seats again.  Steve returned to the microphone and looked around.  The buffet tables were set up with a pizza station with several different options of pizza, a salad bar, and a few other options for people who weren’t huge fans of pizza.  “It looks like the first courses are ready.  Let’s not rush them though.  Wedding party first, then we’ll start from this table -” he pointed to the one furthest from the buffet. “- and move in.”

You got up with Clint and got yourself a small selection of things before taking a seat.  Nattie came and sat on Clint’s lap and stole pieces of pizza toppings off his pizza as you ate.  “This is good, isn’t it?”  You said.  “Fun.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Everyone seems to be having a good time.  And I’m eating pizza with my favorite people.  Can’t get better than that.”

“Your favorite people?”  You asked.  “Which ones?”

“Well,” he teased.  “I think Nattie here is pretty great.”

“That’s true,” you agreed.

“Natasha, Katie,” he added.

You giggled and stuck out your bottom lip.

“Steve is alright when he’s not busting my ass,” Clint continued.

“I like it when he busts your ass,” you teased.

He laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.  “You’re my favorite,” he said and kissed you.

There was a clinking on glass and you looked up to see Natasha standing.  “I’ve been told by Mr. Bossy over there that now is the time for speeches,” she said, tilting her glass towards Steve.  “Most of you all have heard the term ‘Bartoned’.  When you Barton, you’ve really messed things up.  Often there’s an injury.  Regularly it’s one that needs stitches or a cast.  Clint Barton is such a human disaster that you just mention his name and people look around to see what’s gone wrong.”  There was laughter in the crowd and Clint blushed a little.

“I have known Clint a long, long… long… time.  I was in trouble when we met.  My past isn’t exactly squeaky clean and, well, Clint had been sent to take care of me.”  She chose her words carefully due to the large number of children that were at the wedding.  “He did take care of me but not in the way he was meant to.  He became my best friend.  I’ve been by his side through good times and bad times.  New friendships and broken marriages.  Eating cold pizza on the couch and fighting off alien attacks,” she said and there was more laughter.  “For quite a while Clint and Tony had been competing for the attention of a certain EMT that kept showing up at incidents in the city.  Clint … for god knows what reason … won the battle for the fair lady’s heart.  Well, just like Clint, he Bartoned it good.  Instead of the casual friends-with-benefits arrangement, he was hoping for they ended up neither as friends nor there being any benefits and there was a baby on the way.  But as well as being a complete disaster, Clint has a way of not just seeing the best in people, but drawing out the best in people.  He’s still friends with all his exes.  He collects random strays.  There was no way he would ever let that situation stay broken.  So maybe we’ve been using the term Bartoned wrong this whole time.  Maybe Bartoning isn’t messing up really bad.  It’s having something be messed up but seeing the good in it and making it something good.  Because here we have a situation right now where Clint has gotten a crush on someone, knocked them up, pushed them away, and yet still has managed to have one of the most wonderful relationships I’ve ever seen.  She has been Bartoned in every sense of the term.  The brand new Ms. Barton.  I am so, so happy for them.  I love them both so much and I’m so happy they worked this out and realized how good they are for each other.  So I ask you all now, to raise your glasses to them at the start of this new chapter of their lives and to toast to getting Bartoned.”

You looked at Clint smiling and he leaned in and kissed you just as everyone held up their glasses and cheered; ‘Bartoned’.

~  END ~ 

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #bartoned

[dualumina]

Day 1: 3rd of August (Monday) Who are you? What’s your Zexal story?

Ohhhh… fine I’ll cave. I might lose followers for this, but whatever. Easy come, easy go, I guess. (checks count for future reference: 34 👀💦)

I don’t know what the general mentality of tumblr is concerning this subject but… sigh, here goes nothing. This is going to be a long post.

MENTAL HEALTH-RELATED TRIGGER WARNINGS AHEAD

I learned early on that my imagination was the safest place I could be in, and for a time, the only environment I had any semblance of control over.

As I hit my adolescence, I realized that the environment around me was worse than I’d initially feared. On my own, I knew I wouldn’t make it, so in the only place of safety I’d known all my life, I sought help. Wished for it, dearly. In any shape or form.

It took some time, but, help did come.

At first, I would dream of them. Always a boy around my age, always different in appearance, but every time, they were familiar to me. Their mannerisms, their personality. I didn’t know anyone in my waking life like this person; they were unique, despite having no appearance, or name, to call their own.

These dreams of the two of us together would consist of us doing incredible things, sometimes dangerous and exciting, other times calm and serene.

I looked forward to these dreams, considering the alternative was… the nightmares.

Always myself, alone, chased like someone’s prey, with no one to help. Constantly… struggling to stay afloat.

The dreams gave me life, and hope, while the nightmares would take those same things away. It was always a gamble when I closed my eyes, but, my curiosity to know more about the dream boy made me willing to place down my bets.

At some point, I started writing my own stories, putting my imagination into a physical form. I’d been drawing since as long as I could remember, but this was my first time putting a story to the drawings.

I soon realized that my stories contained interactions between characters, and while I could imagine the grandest mountains or the tiniest insects, my ability to imagine connections between others was lacking. My solution to the problem ended up being to treat the interactions between characters like actors rehearsing a scene together.

I would play one character, and… someone… played the other character.

It’s odd I never put much thought into this.

Years went by, many stories were written, many more never made it onto paper, but one thing was certain; I became very good at these “practice conversations”.

It’s now 2013, and after graduating high school, I experienced my second depression. My best friend was growing distant, I could tell it was only a matter of time before the “end” in “friendship” was fulfilled, and I wasn’t looking forward to going to the local college in the slightest. I had no idea where my future was going.

In my daze, I happened to notice a familiar name in the list of shows airing during that time; Yugioh. I remembered once watching DM and GX excitedly before, though never had much interest in 5D’s. Zexal it was called, might as well see if it’s any decent.

Hearing this protagonist’s voice was akin to listening to a blender for no reason, but at least he was interesting to watch. That blue character beside the new “Yu” though… why is his crotch glowing like that? Apart from the holy crotch… “he” does look cool, and he seems to have an interesting story to him. I’ll probably tune in again if I happen to see it in the channel listings.

I didn’t see many episodes of Zexal around this time, maybe five at max. I could tell that the dubbers had butchered this poor show, but it wasn’t until later that’d I’d feel compelled to seek out the sub.

This is where I suspect I may lose followers.

Considering the entertainment in my small town was limited, and I had essentially lost the one person I’d normally hung out with, the internet became my new pastime.

And by accident, I was introduced to the concept of tulpas.

I’d consider myself a nerd for psychology and other things involving the brain, so upon my discovery of this concept I did a bit of reading on the subject. “Mental companions with their own autonomy” as the subreddit described them. Neat.  

I had no interest in trying to make one for myself.

But suddenly, I had one.

It didn’t help that this tulpa decided to assume the form of Yubel in that moment. Suffice to say I was convinced my imagination had finally gone off the rails and was trying to trick me into thinking I had one of these tulpa things.

I tried ignoring them. That failed, as they were exceptionally chatty, and curious as to why they were suddenly there. I should mention, that this occurred around midday, so my hope that they’d go away after I went to sleep was still several hours away.

Suffice to say, after I woke up the first time, I realized they weren’t going away.

Time went by, and they’d dropped the Yubel form, which certainly helped in getting me to stop thinking that there was a chance that they were actually a demon. Now I had a new problem.

They’d chosen Astral’s form.

By this point I had no idea what to call them. Astral? Yubel? Tulpa? They didn’t like any of those names. Oh, apparently they’re a he, alright sure, I guess.

“So what name do you want then?”

He thought for a moment, before this naked-blue-floaty-elf-creature-living-in-my-imagination responded very matter of factly with, “Clay.”

That certainly wasn’t a name I would have chosen for such a being, but that was one of the things that helped convince me that perhaps this… entity, does have thoughts that are separate from my own.

This tulpa territory was very unfamiliar to me, as it would be several years before the realization would dawn that the dream boy, the other “actor”, and Clay were one and the same. At the time, I hesitantly trusted him, but the depression kept me doubting this “stranger”. I asked him at one point if I could put him through a few “tests” just to see how much Clay was both apart of and distinct from my imagination.

At first the tests were simple, like what happened if I pictured a rain cloud above Clay, would he get wet? (he did) Several similar, harmless, tests occurred. However, I was getting frustrated; Clay’s reactions were ones that I’d expect. Part of the purpose of these tests was to determine just how autonomous Clay actually was, or if he truly was just my puppet on strings.

I proceeded to do something I’d immediately regret;

Imagining a handgun into my “mental self’s” hand, and I shot a bullet towards Clay.

Either he dodged it or I intentionally missed. It’s been too many years to remember for sure. Probably a mix of both.

The reaction I witnessed from Clay that day cut straight to my core. The poor guy was in tears, scared out of his mind, and questioning why I’d do something like that in stuttered words.

I learned three things in that moment:

1. If I ever set my mind to it, I had the capacity to kill Clay.

2. Despite his appearance, Clay possessed real human emotions.

3. I could never bring myself to try and kill Clay.

After apologizing repeatedly and consoling him to the best of my ability, I made a promise to him that is now quite literally tattooed on my skin; I will not kill you, and I will not kill myself, for my death is your murder.

This promise, and my inability to bring myself to harm another sentient creature, would be the same thing that prevented me from doing several irrevocable acts. If I harmed myself, I was harming Clay, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

While I could draw Clay to help with visualizing him, I quickly found that I needed some sort of reference to improve. Just some sort of a base so I knew which elements to add to make my drawings more “Clay-like”. Eventually the obvious answer came; I needed to watch Zexal, or more specifically, I needed to watch Astral.

Clay originally looked identical to Astral, but with time he modified his appearance to be something unique to him, even if one could still see the Astral inspiration behind it.

In a truly “chicken or the egg” situation, as I watched Zexal I saw similarities in the relationship between Astral & Yuma and Clay & myself. It wasn’t long before my interest in keyshipping spawned due to both the warm fuzzy feelings I’d get for being reminded of the person who’s supported me for 7 years (and counting), and from the memories of such a wholesome (and potentially gay) partnership in an overall compelling shonen story.

An older photo, but still one of the better ones I’ve done of the guy. Like the shapeshifter that he is, both the wings and tail can appear and disappear as he pleases. Generally, Clay keeps them both hidden for convenience.

Seeing as it is a side view, I’ll clarify that all of Astral’s markings and piercings are GONE, the sort of exception being the “fake eyebrow” markings which Clay did keep (which are indeed markings rather than actual eyebrows).

And no, none of Clay’s appearance I have direct influence over. At one point I implored him to wear clothes, which Clay did try doing briefly. …That didn’t last long though.

@zexalmonth

#zexal month

[elenajohansenauthor]

Fictober18, Day 1: “Can you feel this?“

OCs: Introducing Shannon [no last name yet], a magic shop owner, and Noah Hargrove, an old friend of hers.

Project: [New Untitled Paranormal Romance Thing I’m Totally Winging for Fictober]

Potential Triggers: general mentions of scary monsters, and also needles in a sort-of-medical sense.

Word Count: 1,532

About: I’m setting aside the WIP that was sucking up all my depression and failure issues to work on something new, (hopefully) fun, and totally unplanned, based every day on the Fictober prompts. Ideally I’ll be writing the scenes in order, but if I end up posting something that’s clearly going to be later in the story, I’ll mark it somehow so it won’t be as confusing.

A ghoul was listlessly banging on the door to the shop. I’d lost track of time doing inventory, and darkness had fallen early because of the storm. I turned the lights out in front. If the thing lost interest and wandered away, I could still make it home tonight. If I was careful.

But if I were stuck in the shop overnight, I could finish the inventory and get a head start on next week’s orders. Ghouls and ghosts and other foul beasties weren’t the only reason I kept a cot, some canned food, and a clean set of clothing in my office.

An hour later, the darkness outside was near total, but the random door rattling was gone. I peered through the blinds, trying to check the street by the blinding brilliance of lightning flashes. Every inch of my shop was so intricately warded that it was a magical Switzerland, so staying put was by far the safest option. But I was craving the leftover Chinese in my fridge at home, and I was only halfway through binging the latest season of Real Housewitches of Miami. I’d never been to Florida, so I was watching as much for the beaches and bikinis as I was the catfights and petty hexes.

Something darker than shadow broke free from the brick wall of the bank across the street. I backed away from the window. Chinese food and reality TV were bad reasons to risk getting killed, no matter how much I longed for the comfort of my own bed.

I was halfway to my office when the door shook in its frame under a much heavier, more deliberate pounding. Definitely not a ghoul.

I turned back, like I could see through the door and make out who, or what, it was. I waited for a lightning flash, but all that got me was the vague outline of something tall and humanoid.

Nothing evil could walk into my shop unless I let it in. Sure, some of my customers probably used the components they bought here for less-than-trustworthy purposes, but they came by daylight, and they paid cash.

At night, the only way something could get in was if I opened that door.

Behind me, my phone rang. I’d left it on my desk, and I had to hurry to get to it before it went to voicemail. Noah Hargrove calling, the screen declared.

Noah. I hadn’t seen him for six months? Seven? As I answered, my eyes went straight to the shelf of random jars on the back wall, all different materials and sizes, some with metal lids and others with cork stoppers.

“Hey.” Usually I sounded more cheerful when I spoke to old friends, but usually there wasn’t something unidentified standing outside my door.”

“Can I come in?”

He asked with no lead-in and no hesitation. “You know the rules. Prove it’s you.”

“Shannon...” His exasperation was obvious, but he was the one who’d helped me develop my system of safeguards, when I’d opened the shop.

“I’m not budging.” I didn’t really think he’d been body-snatched by some unnameable power, or even by a garden-variety vampire. But with Noah, more than the others, I had to be careful.

“It’s October, so that’s, what, biggest regrets?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.” But he was right. Time to cough something up, something I could read.

“Letting Larry Wilkinson take you to senior prom. He totally ruined the night for everyone.”

His choice surprised me, but I sensed the truth in his voice. The emotion didn’t have to be deep or secret, but it did have to be real. “Can’t get puke stains out of satin.” I stalked back to the door and starting the complicated process of undoing the night locks, both physical and magical. “This will just take a minute.”

“What would you do if something were after me? Or whoever?”

He didn’t know who else I helped out, after-hours, but he knew he wasn’t the only one. I could never tell if there was jealousy there, either personal or professional. Noah was always the hardest to read.

“I’d stand here working on the locks while you got shredded like overcooked chicken. Or whoever. This can’t be rushed, not if I don’t want the wards to snap.”

“That’s harsh, Shannon.”

Hearing his voice through the phone and not through the door, even though only a few inches separated us, was odd. It shouldn’t have been, not with how heavily protected I was, but it made him feel unreal, or at least farther away. “Your fault for being tailed, if that ever happens.”

When the final lock released, a flare of blue sizzled across the door frame. I turned the knob and stepped back.

Noah came in, hanging up our call and pocketing his phone. “Thanks.”

I always forgot how big he was, when I hadn’t seen him. I backed up a step. “Thanks for taking me home early so I didn’t have to spend the rest of prom smelling like rum and stomach acid.”

He shook his head. “That kid was such a jerk. What did you see in him, anyway?”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember. Maybe his smile. He had the best smile.” I started toward the back. “But you’re not here to catch up. What do you need?”

A flash from the window showed his shadow towering over me, and I hoped he couldn’t see me shudder. But his night vision was better than mine, so probably he did. I tried so hard not to let him know how much he frightened me. I never wanted him to feel unwelcome here.

“More blackwort and bonemeal.” That was standard, they helped with his cravings, though seeing him casually nibbling on mushrooms poisonous enough to kill me five times over never got easy. What he said next, though, wasn’t. “And a place to hole up for a few days, if you know of one. My last hideout here gotten taken over by wolves.”

I sighed. “That turf war between the clans got messy before it was over.” And I’d spent half a night digging silver-laced shrapnel out of Sophia Summers, my old piano teacher from long-ago lessons in elementary school. Her husband had gotten turned in an attack, and she’d petitioned Clan Northriver for voluntary infection for her, and entrance for them both. She’d survived the war, but her clan had lost a third of their territory.

“I can find something new over the next few nights, I have some ideas. But that storm has got the ghouls riled up something fierce, and I can take a few, but I don’t want to spend all night killing instead of apartment hunting.”

He followed me to my office, his large frame filling the doorway. The lights were on here, but I tried not to look at him too closely. I pointed at the cot. “Sit.”

“Shannon...”

“You’re such a baby about this.”

“I hate needles, you know that.”

Because that was what I’d drawn from a kit I kept in my desk drawer. Made from gold, which soaked up enchantments like a sponge, and blessed in turn by every priest, witch, and healer I knew. “Give me your arm.”

He shrugged off his leather jacket, the same battered thing he’d had since high school, and rolled up the sleeve of his sweater. The veins stood out on his muscled forearm as I checked his pulse—strong, healthy, if you could ignore the fact it was a single beat when it should have been doubled. And the gray undertones of his skin, which was definitely more mottled than the last time he’d been to see me.

I dragged the point of the needle from the inside of his elbow to his wrist. He flinched, but I still asked, “Can you feel this?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Goddamn it, Shannon. You can’t know how much that hurts.”

No, I couldn’t, because I was still human. The needle didn’t do a thing to me. The first time I’d poked him with it, pricked the tip of one finger, he’d passed out the instant it touched his blood and didn’t wake up for five hours.

“More or less than last time?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, trying to remember, maybe. “More,” he finally whispered. “A little more.”

“Okay.” That wasn’t good, but it had been six months. Or seven. I should expect his condition to have progressed. “You’re not hungry, are you?”

“No, I...I ate on the way. Why?” He looked up at me, and I couldn’t ignore the fear in his eyes, or the pleading.

Or the way his brown irises were speckled with black. Eventually there would be no color left. No humanity.

“Because you’re staying with me for now. I wasn’t going to try to make it home tonight, but saddle up, because now you’ve got to get me there safely.”

He smiled, and I hated myself for the nervousness that shivered through my body and made my hands tingle with numbness. I had lied about Larry, of course. Noah had always had the best smile.

#writeblr #fictober18 #paranormal romance #my writing #writing prompt responses #spookyromancenovel #i guess?

[jessethejoyful]

holy cow it’s part five

what’s a schedule

read it here on ao3

SIMON

Things are different, again.

Baz is still around. He still spends time with Penny and Agatha and I, even came over for another pizza night, but left before ten, saying he was supposed to call his father. He didn’t look at me once when he left.

He still comes into the art store and talks to me, but only when he’s buying something. And our chats don’t last as long, before he gets distracted by his phone and steps out with a small wave.

I don’t know where the extra distance suddenly came from. He’s become such an integral part of my day, I don’t know what to do now that he seems to be pulling himself out of it, piece by piece. There’s a constant ache in my chest, because I just know it’s because I kissed him, and told him I liked him, and I don’t want to press him into something he’s not comfortable with.

He’s not comfortable with me, and I want him to be, more than anything.

So when the end of October is coming up quickly, and I invite him to Penny and I’s fancy dress Halloween party, he’s surprised. And I wish he wasn’t.

“I’m not sure,” he says slowly, when I ask if he can come. “I… don’t usually do anything for Halloween. I might be scheduled to work.”

“Find out,” I say, unable to resist the urge to stretch my hand out and grip his wrist. He looks down at our hands, eyes wide, but doesn’t pull away, and I take this as a good sign. “And let me know. Okay?”

His eyes meet mine, for the first time that day, and I’m so thankful for it.

“Okay,” he agrees. I can breathe.

BAZ

I’m not an easy person to be friends with. Dev tells me so all the time.

“You’re not an easy person to be friends with,” he’ll say to me, and I’ll remind him that we’re cousins and he’s not obligated to be my friend. “Yeah, well, I like you well enough all that you’re a stingy prat, Basil.” And we’ll go back to playing video games or whatever it is we’re doing, and it’s fine.

But with Simon, it’s different. It has been from the beginning.

I’ve never had a boyfriend either. I don’t know shit about it. His had been the first kiss I’ve had in over a year, when I had a brief stint on Tinder and regretted it immediately.

There's never been someone like him in my life, someone I was actually afraid of scaring away.

“So instead of you worrying about scaring him away,” Dev says one evening over dinner, when I make the mistake of letting on what's bothering me, “you're doing it on purpose, preemptively. So you don't have to wonder if you're going to lose him later on.”

“I guess,” I grumble, moving my silverware around on the table before me. “It doesn't make any fucking sense.”

“I don't know about that,” Dev says slowly, and I look up at him. “Baz. It's not unusual, what you're doing. Christ, I forget how little experience you have with all this.”

“Spare me the condescension, if you would,” I snarl, kicking my leg up sharply and crossing it over the other. The aggression in my tone masks how embarrassed I am about this whole thing.

Dev sighs, loud and long. “You're pulling back because you're afraid of getting hurt, it's a classic move. You don't know him well enough yet to know he's not going to hurt you, so you're trying to keep him from doing so.” He leans forward over the table. “Trying to act like you're not already in too deep to get out.”

I'm startled, but I realize Dev might be onto something. And he knows it, sitting back with a smug expression.

But what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

PENNY

Simon Snow is a fucking moron. He's my best friend, so I'm allowed to say that.

He's a lovable moron, but a moron nonetheless. Watching him and Basil dance around each other these last few weeks has been exhausting.

They have no idea, but I got up to go to the bathroom on the night we did masks, and saw them, curled up together on the couch like cats in a patch of sunlight. It was adorable, but I'd honestly seen it coming. Agatha and I had been talking about it behind their backs almost since the beginning. And I like Basil. Now that I've gotten to know him, he's great to talk to - I think most of his shit attitude is just his way of keeping the wrong kind of people out, his walls.

And Simon - well, Simon doesn't do anything halfway, does he? He took a jackhammer to those walls, and now Baz is fortifying them in retaliation.

I wish they'd stop playing chicken, so I can stop caring about it.

SIMON

I'm amazed - and horribly pleased - when Baz actually shows up to the party, and not just because he came dressed as a cheesy movie vampire, in a black and red cape and his hair smoothed back.

“Baz,” I say, because that's all I can manage, and he smiles, actually smiles, and it reveals the fake fangs he’d glued over his eye teeth, and I snort.

“Snow,” he says. I'm a bit let down, because I like it when he calls me Simon. But his tone is all business, even as his eyes glance over my costume. Agatha and I are a set, an angel and a devil, and I've got on flimsy plastic wings, horns, and a cartoon devil’s tail. “Could we… talk?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Of course.” I look around wildly.

It's crowded, because our parties always go over well. Penny likes to complain that I have too many friends, that I should keep it limited to a close circle.

“But if I didn't have so many friends,” I always counter, “then how could we throw such epic parties?” She never has a rebuttal.

“We can talk in my room?” I say it like a question, because I don't want to make him uncomfortable. He just nods and gestures for me to go on. I cut through the crowd, grinning at people who greet me, and he follows behind, head down. I'm not used to him being so withdrawn like this. I'm bracing myself for him to tell me he hates my guts and doesn't ever want to see me again.

My room is quiet, no one's allowed in, and I close the door and flick on the light. Then I wish I hadn't, because it's kind of a mess. The desk where I normally set up my laptop to draw is covered in trash, from takeout or crumpled-up paper. The floor is mostly clear though, some clothes around, and Baz carefully picks his way over and sits on my unmade bed.

I follow and sit next to him, but not too close.

He breathes deeply, and I don't speak, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. And then he looks at me, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

“I'm sorry,” he says, and it's not what I'm expecting at all.

“Eh? For what?”

He looks annoyed for a second. “I've been - pulling away. Closing off. It's what I do, apparently, when people get too close.”

“Oh. Well, it's alright.”

“I just -" He stares at me, his jaw working. “I don't know what I'm doing. I put on a good show, but I'm a fucking wreck.”

“I know,” I say, maybe a little too eagerly, because he looks startled.

“And you like that?” He makes it sound like the most impossible thing in the universe. Someone liking him.

“Yeah,” I whisper, leaning forward a hair. “I kissed you, remember?”

“But why?” he hisses back, his voice dropping with mine. “If you know I'm a mess, why would you like me?”

I shrug, because I know it drives him mental. “Because we match.” I lean in more, watching his lips, and they part for a second before his hand comes up to my chest, stopping me.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he says again, and his voice is so tortured that I sit up and look at him, really look at him. He is a mess - I can see it in the haunted look behind his eyes, the twitch of his hand, the slump of his shoulders. I wonder how much of his past I don't know (all of it, pretty much) and it sobers me up a bit.

“I know,” I murmur, lifting my hand to cover his where it rests on my chest. “And that's okay. You don't have to. We'll figure it out together, alright?” He breathes in a tiny gasp, then nods once, some of the tension dropping from his neck. “C’mere.” He glares at me, all suspicion, and I scoff before wrapping my arms around his back, pulling him to me. He's stiff for a long moment, but then his arms come up around me and his face buries in the crook of my neck, and I grin because I know he can't see.

BAZ

“Because we match.”  

My mind keeps playing through the scene, even as I'm forced to mingle and interact with a flat full of mostly drunk students.

It took a lot of energy from me to have such a revealing conversation with Simon, and once he steps into the kitchen for a drink, I slip through the crowd and out the door, closing it quickly behind me.

I'm surprised to find Agatha, cross-legged on the floor in the hall, but she doesn't seem surprised by me.

“It’s a lot in there, isn't it?” she says, her cheeks pushing up in a small smile. She looks just right in her angel costume, small and almost sad, so I find myself sliding down the wall next to her. “I can only deal with so much before I need a breath. And Simon's room was occupied.” I can feel the warmth immediately spread across my face, and I don't trust myself to reply. She looks at me, though I don't look back until she says, “You like him, don't you? Simon.”

When I meet her eyes, there's nothing there but friendly concern. For her best friend who was brought up like her brother.

“Yeah. I do.” She smiles then, brilliantly, and it's like I'm tricked into smiling back. It's contagious.

“Good. Because I can tell he likes you, and I don't want to see him hurt.” Suddenly she looks serious, her lips quirking for a moment to the side. “He seems like the happiest person. Like sunlight. But he's had a hard time. As a kid, especially, and it shaped him into who he is today. Kind and sweet and loyal, but also… fragile. I just want you to keep that in mind, going forward.”

I know it to be the whole truth as I say, “I would never do anything to hurt him, Agatha. You have my word.” Then I look away, tilting my head back against the wall and breathing out a small laugh. “He’s lucky. To have two friends like you and Penny watching out for him.” I don't move when Agatha’s head drops to my shoulder. My heart clenches.

“We’ll watch out for both of you, until we can trust the two of you not to fuck yourselves up,” she says softly, startling a laugh out of me.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #rainbow rowell #carry on simon #carry on baz #agatha wellbelove #penelope bunce #here we are fellas #idk how to write #my writing #writing #carry on fanfiction #fanfiction #art school au

[itallcomesdown]

TGI Tuesday

Something intensely un-good was happening to Yvonne.

She was missing calls. Daydreaming. Humming and smiling to herself.

These were not normal.

Yvonne didn't notice the change at first but, looking back, she knew when it started.

It had started four days prior, on a Tuesday. Worst day of the week because you haven't braced for it like Monday, it's pre-the-work-week-hump and it always feels like there's three years before lunch but then 6 second until EOD.

Anyway, it's a Tuesday. Yvonne is wearing Tuesday-ish clothes. Nothing fancy. A little bookish, a little muted. No meetings, no lunches, no plans.

Just a fucking Tuesday.

Except not just a fucking Tuesday because that was the day she walks in. Like a warm breeze in autumn, full of non-specific nostalgia and hope for a little more good weather.

Damn. That kind of flowery bullshit was also not normal. This was clearly getting worse...

She walks in like it was nothing. Like she was not heartbreak waiting to happen. she walks in, right, and just smiles.

Who does that? Who smiles like that? Like- Stop. Yvonne put a heavy lid on that little line of evocative imagery.

So, she smiles. But not at her. She was smiling at Yvonne's colleague, Adam.

Adam was a perfectly nice guy but Yvonne spent as little time with him as she could. It wasn’t personal, it was just better if she kept her coworkers at arms length. Life is too short to spend it doing drinks with Lisa from accounts. Again, nothing personal.

The smiling spreads ripples around the office. Everyone was hot and bored so this new energy was invigorating. The urge to smile infects some but mostly it sparks whispers.

Yvonne's desk mates gossiped around her. They'd grown too weary of her polite brevity to try to include her but this time her ears tuned in.

From hushed snippets, she pieced together that this was some kind of relative of Adam's, staying with him for a few days. Apparently Adam had been lobbying for time off to play host to this highly favoured relative but it fell through. When talk shifted to whoever's early labour torpedoed Adam's plan, Yvonne switched off again. She hadn't even realised anyone was pregnant and obviously she was too late to invest in that story line.

Adam's whole body lit up at the sight of his family member standing near the entrance of the open plan office. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe their movements towards each other as "bounding", not unlike littermates reunited after a long separation. But surely these two had seen each other that morning?

Yvonne picked up her mug, along with the pretense of nonchalance, and walked over to the small crowd that had formed around her colleague and his new visitor. She didn't want to get too close, she just wanted to bask in the warmth of her- Nope. She rapped her fingers against the plan white cup, trying to drown out her softer self.

Lost in her attempts to regulate her emotions, Yvonne didn't notice that she was in the middle of a plan being hatched. The relative had come to pick Adam up for lunch and extended the invitation to any willing party in the office. It'd be a short walk to a street food market then a leisurely stroll through a park on their way back.

A tap on her shoulder nudged Yvonne out of her daze.

Was she coming?

To?

Before she heard the answer, that smile caught her eye. This time, it's full brilliance was directed at her.

She nodded without internalising what she was agreeing to. It didn't matter. She would walk a thousand miles for that smile. Fuck.

The pack scattered and regrouped in the time it took Yvonne to remember that she needed to put her mug back. She got swept up in the mass exodus before she made it to her desk. Someone took her cup out of her hand and spirited it away as they hustled her out of the office. It was an ambitious trip, they had to make good time on the first leg or they'd have to rush back.

The cheery horde funneled down the stairs and out the door into the open air, chatting amongst themselves and around Yvonne. She was not a regular fixture at non-mandatory work social events so she fell through the cracks as friendship groups found each other. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She could spend the time thinking about what to do with the meal she'd brought from home that was sitting in the communal fridge.

Arms folded and shoulders tight, she ran through her options in her mind. Would it keep til the next day? Should she take it home and eat it? Maybe if she just bought a drink at this food market, she could eat her lunch at her desk while finishing her reports...?

One of the splinter groups slowed to let Yvonne catch up and the apparent leader struck up a conversation. Had she ever been to the market before? Did she have any food allergies? Was there something she was hoping to find?

Yvonne sense the group wanted more than her three short no's so she added a little colour. She was a fan of spicy food and had once gone to a food festival which featured competitive eating. She had, on the spur of the moment, decided to try her hand but came 3rd from last out of ten.

The group seemed more impressed than she expected! They all congratulated her on trying, each insisting they would have passed out if given anything hotter than supermarket sweet chili sauce. Yvonne felt her own smile tugging at her lips but she didn't let herself feel it.

Getting to the market took less time than expected and Yvonne had been too busy small talking to finish meal planning. It didn't matter though because she never would have envisioned the array of options. It was almost overwhelming and made worse by the heat of the sun which seemed to linger at its peak long after noon.

Someone from the splinter group fell into step with Yvonne and began chatting energetically about a particular stalls which specialised in gluten free fried chicken. The sauces were apparently to die for but this person had avoid one of the options because it had a five chili rating. May Yvonne would like to give that one a go?

Yvonne didn't know how to say no to this new, earnest friend. They'd listened to her, thought about what she would like and then came forward with an idea for her. She'd have to eat her packed lunch for dinner and muscle through these wings to avoid awkwardness but honestly, Yvonne wasn't mad at it.

The wing stall was a little deeper into the market than the stalls most of the group had picked. Yvonne followed closely behind her workmate. Bobbing as they bobbed and weaving as they weaved. It was only a few moments but something about the synchronised movements felt fun, though Yvonne couldn't put her finger on the memory that was causing it.

Before she could fully assess, Yvonne bumped into her colleague who had abruptly stopped to greet someone. Actually, two people. Adam and his relative were a metre away and beaming. Yvonne felt sick.

She was completely caught off guard. All these new feelings and interactions had pushed the original purpose of this excursion out of her mind. Now, faced with the object of her curiousity and with hardly any buffer between them, Yvonne was beginning to regret her decision to leave the safety of her desk.

Adam spear headed the unification of the two pairs into one, hungry super-group. They were both looking for the wing stall and his relative, a cousin, was keen to try the hottest sauce available. What a wonderful coincidence! Obviously this merger had been pre-ordained. They would search as a unit. Eight eyes were better than four.

Yvonne's arms crossed themselves over her chest. She hadn't even noticed them relaxing down to her side but the tension was back. Adam was keen to introduce her to Jules who was keen to say her name over and over as part of a memory trick. Six to make it stick...s. Everyone chuckled.

Ali, Adam, Jules and Yvonne. From 13, to 2, to 4, but still no food. Time was ticking away.

Ali took charge of the expedition in peak Ali-fashion, or at least what appeared to be a pretty consistent pattern of behaviour over the 20 minutes Yvonne had observed. Being the only two who had ever see the intended destination, Adam and Ali paired up to lead the pack. It was a second or two before Yvonne realised what that meant.

If you've ever seen a dog chase a car and then have no idea what to do when the car stopped, Yvonne was the dog. Feeling infinitely foolish and clinically awkward, she wordlessly fell into step with the reason she was out in the sun, hunting an elusive chicken wing vendor on a Tuesday afternoon.

Jules seemed content to maintain the silence but with far less observable angst. Yvonne pondered the causal relationship between hotness and being able to withstand heat because, while she was painfully aware of the sweat under her rather flimsy blouse, Jules seemed icy cool in an uncomfortably thick hoodie. While Yvonne's hair clung to the moisture from her scalp, Jules' shoulder length locks seemed completely unaffected.

Yvonne realised that Jules had noticed her stares later than she should have. There was that fucking smile again. If her cheeks could glow red, they would. They talked. It was nice. Jules was staying with Adam until paperwork for a rental was approved. Adam had a spare room and loved having guests, it gave him an excuse to do tourist shit. He had a surprising fondness for kitsch.

Jules had the kind of voice you wanted to listen to and a laugh you wanted to share and hair you wanted to run your fingers through and lips- You get the picture. Jules drew you in then made you feel like you were meant to be there.

They walked and talked and smiled and laughed and bumped into each other as they maneuvered through the crowd. Yvonne's heart didn't know whether to race or jump for joy so instead it just pumped hard enough for her to feel it in her earlobes. If only the hour could last forever.

That wistful thought snapped Yvonne back to reality. She stopped. Where were Ali and Adam? Where was the rest of the group? What was the time?

Gone, gone and too late to keep hunting for the stall. She would have to walk pretty briskly to make it back on time. Jules quickly understood her wordless panic and grasped her upper arm to reassure her and then grabbed her hand, leading the way.

Half walking half running, they made it back to the main doors with enough time for Yvonne to catch her breath. More laughter. They could both do with paying more attention to their cardio.

Maybe they could be workout buddies?

Yvonne grinned, nodding enthusiastically as she breathed deeply. She had a couch to 5k app on her phone that she had never opened. Jules asked to see it so she obliged.

As she handed over the unlocked device, Yvonne noticed a familiar face in the distance. It was Adam and Ali, each carrying a pair of boxes and mildly confused expressions. They'd forged ahead but didn't notice the separation until they had reached their destination. Once there, Ali ordered while Adam called Jules. The minutes ticked away so eventually they decided to head back to home base.

Yvonne sincerely apologised for wasting their time and reached for her phone, intending to pay them back on the spot for the food, but Jules pulled it just out of her grasp.

"It was my fault, I owe all of you so I'll get you back for today and then I'll take you all out for lunch again this week?"

She was about to protest but then Yvonne noticed something pass between the cousins. Ali opened his mouth to respond but Adam spoke over him. It was fine, he and Ali had managed to eat as they walked so Jules shouldn't worry about them.

"I guess that leaves just me and you."

They'd been texting and calling everyday since then. It was sickening. The make-up lunch got pushed into the weekend then became a dinner then a dinner before a small comedy show. A full on date but without the word.

In the time between that Tuesday afternoon and the Saturday evening Yvonne had planned 6 different outfits, two comprising of clothes she panic bought on Thursday. One included a heeled boot that she had to fish out from under her bed. None of them fit like she wanted them to.

By the time Jules was 20 minutes away, Yvonne had pulled together a 7th option that she convinced herself would do. They had met on a Tuesday where Yvonne had dressed like a Tuesday so all she had to do was look a little better but not so drastically different that she looked like she was trying too hard.

The Final Outfit gave solid Thursday afternoon vibes.

Nothing fancy. A little fun, a little playful. Some sparkle, some flair, some skin.

[insomniac-arrest]

Babina Steals a House

genre: original, humor, fairytale

words: 2k

summary:  A young woman steals Baba Yaga's house for tax evasion purposes. The witch is not happy

Like Howl’s Moving castle but with somehow more scoundrels and the same amount of angry witches

Babina Lisitsyn walked into a merchant’s shop, well, she didn’t so much walk as stride in with the confidence of someone hiding a gun up their skirts. Said gun had fallen out at least three paces ago but we give Babina the grace of her own confidence at this point.

“Shopkeep,” Babina put her finger authoritatively in the air, “drop what you’re doing.” Allen the elf was not doing anything, he looks up anyway and regards a very small woman with her curly hair tied up in a red handkerchief. She was pointing at him.

Allen stood behind his counter and regretted not installing that panic button under his desk after the last time he was robbed and they took his good soup spoons. This woman had the same look in her eye. He raised his eyebrows sharply and pushed his more expensive orbs to the side.

“Can I help you?” The words were not said in the tone of someone who wanted to help you.

Babina Lisitsyn was not paying attention to his intonation, she was thinking about whether that thing on the shelf next to the man was a magic wand or a dildo. Regardless of the fact it was both, Babina took a piece of paper out of her pocket and shoved into the air, “is this you?”

Allen gave her a second cool look to top the first one, “from the paper’s classifieds, yes.”

Babina turned the newspaper clipping around and cleared her throat, “Nelaeryn Thoticus of the golden woods?” That was not his name.

“Yes.” She continued reading, “Who provides services in fortune telling, magic bartering, horoscopes, wedding officiating, horse taming, erectile dysfunction-” “That’s my ad, yes.” “And document apostilling.” Babina raises her chin, “right?”

Allen momentarily wishes he was being robbed, “How can I be of service?”

Babina whipped out a second piece of paper, “I need someone to authorize this.” She pushes a yellowing paper across the table, it had a very uneven looking font and some ink splotches.

Allen raised another eyebrow, he only had two but usually, he wished he had more.

“What’s this?” Babina put her hands on her hips, “I thought the classified said you’d sign stuff. No questions.”

He frowns slowly and looks back up, “100 gold coins.”

“Are you fucking,” she tore at her hair.

Allen waits patiently, “Not at the moment.”

“Look,” Babina put her hands in front of her as if to pause everything, “I’m sort of in a situation.” Babina was in several situations, half of a sham marriage and twice as many incidents of food poisoning in a half a dozen villages she visited.

Allen pushed the piece of paper back toward her, “Does that situation involve a 100 gold coins?” Babina felt the need to flip him off and perhaps dig around for her pistol again, but time was a fickle thing that sped on with or without her permission. It did not grant her the luxury of ‘flipping off’ time.

Babina was making a strangling motion to Allen when the door swung open on its hinges and a large black raven swept in. Allen took a step back, he had a strong phobia of birds since one tried to sell him a faux-gold ring last Christmas. And he bought it.

“Get out.”

“Midnight!” Babina threw her hands up, “thank God, we have to do some of that special sexy bartering we talked about.” Allen decided that might be the best time to lean over and read exactly what it is she wanted him to authorize.

He lifted both eyebrows, “Is this a housing agreement?” Babina turns around in place, her large brown skirts fanning out around her, “now you see how serious this is.” Allen narrowed his eyes, “some of this is written in crayon.” “And some blood.” She added brightly. “Alright…”

“Not mine, don’t worry.”

Allen thinks maybe he’ll get that panic button, instead he looks between the two of them, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He started to shoo them, he had to pretend to be an orthopedist at 2 so this was eating up his googling time. “Paying customers only.” Babina made another face at him, “Nelly,” he looked both ways to see who she was talking to, “of the orange woods-” “Golden,” he was actually from San Jose.

“Imma need you to me a big favor,” she jabbed the paper, “And sign this right here. Just on the dotted line, so all our asses are not grass.” “Grass,” he massaged his temple.

“Blasted grass! Grass blasted glass pass.” She shook her fist, “We’re gonna be pounded!” Allen looked at her evenly, “I’m really going to have to ask you to leave.” “That might be hard,” Allen jumps as third voice answers, a hooded dour young man now stood where the raven had once been, Allen grabs at his chest, “Ah!”

The brooding young man had shockingly black hair, a sharp nose, and the air of someone who looked tired enough to easily trade his blood in for expresso, “ma’am,” he nods at the young woman in the handkerchief, “she’s just outside of town.” Babina stuck her bottom lip out, “Soon?” “Three minute give or take.” Babina groaned deeply, “Fiiiiiine.” She picked up her contract, “we’ll blow this joint.” She waves at him, “Sorry your shop might get wrecked, you seem like an asshole, but still.” Babina shrugs and turns toward the door.

Allen’s face goes pale, “Who? Who’s coming?” He looked both ways as his shutters start to bang from a gust of wind. The hairs on Allen’s arm stand on end.

His eyes go wide as he looks back at the girl, “Who’re you?”

Babina turned around and winked, “Babina Sampina.” That was not her name.

The young man tugs on her sleeve, “I’m obligated to tell you that you need to get out of here.” The shutters bang open and shut again, a tremor goes through the floorboards, Allen flinches, he comes out from behind his desk. “Who’s house is it?” He points to the document in her hand. Babina waves over her shoulder, “don’t worry about it.” She opened the door, “unless you wanna do that trade.” He looked both ways, “What trade?” “Just like we talked about,” Babina yells with a flourish as they stand just outside the door. “Midnight, get on your knees.”

Midnight’s face doesn’t change, “I don’t think so.” “Okay,” she recovers, “we’ll stop Baba Yaga from wrecking his town if you sign my papers.”

Allen’s fingers shake, “I’m not actually an actuary.” “Nelly,” Babina says seriously as she walks up to him, “I don’t care.” “Ma’am, we have to leave.”

“One sec,” Allen takes out his pen signs the crayon and blood document, “bam!” She runs out the door, “let’s get running.” Allen takes a step outside the door and is almost blown over, some power was surging through the street, he could feel the electricity pulsing. He gulps and wonders why he didn’t buy the health insurance package that included witches.

Babina on the other hand just felt slightly preoccupied with the wand-dildo problem in her head again, she snaps back to when Midnight is pointing toward the west.

“Right!” She snaps her fingers and a house parked right in front of a small Radio Shack starts to shake. Its front lawn had a stark white fence around it and a pair of thin legs stuck out the bottom as it stood up.

“Baba yaga,” Allen was muttering to himself, wiping his palms down on his turquoise pants, “Baba yaga.” “Come on you old bitty!” Babina was yelling into the wind, her house rumbling as two thin chicken legs lifted it up in one shaking heave. “Do your worst!”

“No!” Allen the elf waved his hands in the air, “Nope, no, none of that.” Babina gave him a thumbs up, “have a little faith.” She squared her shoulders, “I’ve been doing this for like, a week now.”

Allen thinks about his 2 O’clock finding his body, it would not be flattering. He heard the wind whistle in his long ears and several people are peaking out their shop windows. Babina waves at them blithely.

“What did you do?” “Some tax stuff,” Babina says simply, “or at least, that’s what I asked for help with.” She pouts, “and boom, bam, ran away with this house thing.” “It was almost impressive,” Midnight says blankly as he stood off to the side, “if it wasn’t fools luck.” He glances at her morosely, “from a fool.” Babina rolled her eyes, “Go get Red Sun! We gotta be a unified front.” Midnight the dark knight, indebted to the holder of the house for the rest of eternity, grunts heavily. He, as a person, would much rather be a nicely warmed cup of tea at any given moment.

His form starts smoking and a heavy black cloud consumes him, leaving a sleek black bird in his place, it caws sharply.

Allen reaches for him as he spreads his wings, “Don’t leave me with her!”

Midnight was flapping away and Babina was climbing up onto her chicken-legged house that belonged the world’s most powerful grandma.

She was bouncing up and down, “Dawn!” She calls, “daybreak!”

A white cat with black paws steps out to greet her, it had a with a bone in its mouth that once belonged to very unstable goblin, but he was mostly stable now. For a couple reasons, most of which were being dead.

Dawn considered it good luck.

The delicate cat folds into itself, unwinding piece by piece as a young woman with soft white hair materializes, she holds a spear in her hands and smiles widely.

“What a nice day it is!” The knight turned around in loose circles.

“Shut it,” Babina said, “Baba is around the corner.” She beat her chest, “battle up!” Dawn just grinned emptily, “did you get that thing signed that I helped you make?” “Right right!” Babina stood on the top of the chickened-legged house and she pushed the sheet out into the air, “Baba Yaga!”

She faced the end of the wide merchant road.

Allen the elf heard himself scream, something surges around a very sharp corner. A woman, a massive woman. She sat in a mortar and peddled through the air like water using a pestle. Long white hair danced around her sunken face like a tangled storm and her eyes were blazing hot coals. Her outfit was a massive black dress that looked like it was almost living as it writhed around her.

A cackle rumbled through the earth and several shopkeepers stuck their heads out and wished they had panic buttons.

“Little fox,” her voice was thick with dust and a dark hiss that filled the air, “this is the end of the line.” Babina, to her credit, didn’t so much as flinch. She was still thinking about that wand as well as where her pistol had fallen to, she holds up her piece of paper.

“Tough shit,” she widens her stance, “I own this place now. Read the fine print!” Allen groans to himself as the almighty being of wrath and splendor read his name on the paper. He creeps back toward his shop so he could grab anything of more value than his life right now.

He heard more cackling, the witch's eyes grew huge and luminous, “you’re going to taste very good in my next stew little fox.”

“Okay,” she says stiltedly, “but this is legal and you have to listen to the law.” Baba Yaga’s smile widened into a wolf’s maw, “I’ll eat you with bell peppers and onions.” She showed all of her sharp white teeth.

Babina had sense enough to gulp deeply, her thoughts being dragged back to the many objects in her new home that were made of human skin. It was an alarming amount.

“Okay,” she gives a little salute, “that’s...that’s cool.” She turns around in place, “I’m just gonna…” She snaps her fingers again. “See you!”

The chicken legs bend in the middle and Allen’s mouth falls open as the house turns around, Baba Yaga makes a loud hiss.

“Wait,” Allen looks both ways as he weighs his options, “my town.” Babina waved, “I won’t let this place be destroyed!” This wouldn’t be the last town that Babina got destroyed.

He’s about to protest when more movement catches his eye.

Allen watches as a black raven comes diving through the air with a red dog blazing just below him, they come up from behind the witch. He waited for her to easily bat them out of the air but the animals dart right by and dodge her pestle.

The dog jumps ten feet in the air as the house starts to extend its skinny legs, the raven is just behind it. The ground begins to shake and air shimmers with tension.

Allen weighed his options.

“Wait,” Allen’s mouth opens and closes as the wind around him started to pick up, “I’ll come with!” He starts to run, “You owe me a hundred gold coins.” The ground begins to open up and swallow the edge of the town, buildings tumbling in with free falling rubble. Allen runs and manages to grab onto a chick leg before it goes into full gallop. He was going to miss his 2 O’Clock.

Babina herself was going to miss her pistol that had been more for show than use, but she appreciates the idea of it. She stands near her shaking bone fence and wonders if the witch would need a proper bank notice before she let up.

But Babina hated banks.

She looks over her shoulder as Baba Yaga slowly falls behind and far too many people start calling their local lawyers about a massive magic earthquake. Some crazy person had apparently stolen a witch's house.

#fantasy #original story #baba yaga #humor #parody #of the fantasy genre #original work

[denisecua]

While working on our Taiwan itinerary, I realized there aren’t as many available travel tips and guides online about the country, as there are for Hong Kong, Japan and Korea. So upon getting back from my trip, I figured I should let my experiences be learning grounds for your future travels here. And without further adieu, let me present to you Taiwan (or Taipei) in lists of tips, tricks, hits and misses.

Flight: AirAsia

Very cheap roundtrip flights from Manila to Taipei– PHP 3,000 without check-in baggage and PHP 5,000 with 20kg of check-in baggage. Both include (strictly) 7kg carry-on allowance. Travel tax excluded.

AirAsia flights to Taiwan is only once a day apparently. Took the 11:15 PM flight out and the 1:45 AM flight back to Manila.

One of my fastest check-ins ever, especially during departure. Finished everything in 15-20 minutes! Way less people compared to Cebu Pacific which had super long lines heading to Taipei at the same time.

Flight was comfy, and the plane was nice and clean. Leg room, as you can expect, is quite limited, such that when I’d cross my legs, my knees would hit the next seat.

No blankets for lending!!! You’d have to purchase their AirAsia-branded blankets at PHP 500. Not cool! Or should I say, too cool because I was nearly freezing?!

For in-flight meals, you have to pre-book them if you don’t want to take chances. Pretty cheap, at around PHP 150-200 a meal.

Weather in August: H-O-T!!!!

August is Taiwan’s hottest month. Clearly we didn’t research prior to booking! Can go as high as 38 degrees Celcius!

Recommendation: Don’t book in August so you can maximize your stay! We got tired too easily due to the debilitating heat.

Money

Their currency is New Taiwanese Dollar.

Conversion from NTD to PHP is 1.7.

For money exchange, you have to do it at the airport upon arrival or at the banks. They don’t have FOREX stalls everywhere like in Hong Kong. So carefully plan your exchange in advance.

For pocket money, average spend a day (given our itinerary — available upon request) would be at around PHP 3,000-4,000 excluding shopping.

Accommodation: Meander Hostel

Definitely a place I’d recommend if you’re traveling on a budget! It’s a hostel but with private rooms.

Got the Triple Room with 1 queen bed and 1 double bed–comfy. Spacious enough. Looks new and clean. Has minimalist design.

Had troubles with the air conditioner–wouldn’t get cold enough for a day or two!

Shower area is more than sufficient, and heater works great! I could take showers for hours. Jk.

Total cost for 4 nights was at PHP 17,000 but thanks to Agoda Rewards, we got it for PHP 15,000. Just PHP 5,000 per head! So affordable!

No windows in the room; could use better lighting = Not very ideal for girls who spend a long time putting on makeup!!!!

Has a common room at the G/F. Very cozy and you can mingle with fellow travellers. You can also bring food and eat there. Has free-flowing water and wintermelon tea. Also coffee, milk tea, bread and fruits in the AM for breakfast.

Not allowed to bring outside shoes in. They give you slippers to use. Not sure if that’s hygienic but I think they sanitize it after every use. The upside is that you don’t have to bring your own slippers anymore.

Location is a-ok! Just 10 minutes away from Ximending on foot. You just have to walk one straight line/street so you won’t get lost. Also has nearby convenience stores.

Transporation

From Taoyuan International Airport, we shared a cab going to our hostel since it was late already (2AM) and it was cost-effective given that we were 4 people.

Getting around is mostly thru their MRT which is super easy to understand. We didn’t have to buy stored value cards since buying single tickets was always a breeze. Never a line! MRT is also very clean and not so crowded.

Most frequented line is the blue line–Bannan. That’s where Ximen is located right smack at the middle. This is why I recommend you choose a hotel in Ximen, since it’s close to the many areas you’re likely to visit as a tourist.

Going back to airport, we asked help from our hostel and they booked us a 9-seater van for just NT 1700. Not bad! From Ximen to Taoyuan, we only took 40 minutes.

Advantages of Taiwan over Hong Kong

Much, much friendlier people.

Less fast-paced so you can travel more calmly.

Cleaner, especially the toilets!

Generally cheaper.

Shopping

For international clothing brands, they have H&M and Uniqlo in Ximending (more expensive though) and GU, Pull & Bear, ZARA, and Bershka in Taipei 101 area.

They also have the usual sports stores like adidas, Nike, New Balance, and Jordan  in Ximending, but I never entered. Hihi.

Speaking of Ximending, they say that’s Taipei’s counterpart of Myeongdong in Seoul. While I still managed to have fun (because I will always, always find a way to shop successfully), I recommend not expecting too much. I found that there aren’t as many interesting stores, and even their food offerings were underwhelming.

Highlight for me was the skincare variety. They have super cheap sheet masks, so better hoard! Go for 86 Shop and Paris Strawberry, as they have better pricing. More on this here.

For Taiwanese delicacies (pasalubong alert!), buy from the corner/semi-hidden stores that don’t look fancy. The well-lit and nicer-looking ones have higher prices. For instance, I got salty yolk cookies for just NT 120 a pack while at the better-looking stores, they were selling it to me for NT 180. Nonetheless, they all provide free tastes so you can make sure the goodies are yummy before you buy them!

Re: Supermarkets, I’m not sure if I was just blind but there weren’t so many. I only found Jason’s Marketplace in Taipei 101 and in Ximending (near Exit 1 of Ximen Station). My favorite purchases were the frozen fried rice–huge variety (salmon, sausage, hawaiian, kimchi, smoked pork, etc.) and super cheap (NT 48–definitely more affordable than the Spam kimchi fried rice packs in Korea). Note: Put in carry-on because it’s not allowed for check-in baggage.

Food

Gudetama Cafe in Zhongxiao Dunhua is super cute! But, food could be better. I say don’t go there starving. Just get snacks or desserts there for Instagram purposes. Do note that you have to reserve in advance. I did thru eztable.com, and they require advanced consumable payment of NT 200 per head.

Yong Kang Street has a lot of restaurants and stalls you can try out: Scallion Pancakes (yum!), Smoothie House (line too long), etc. They also have the first ever Din Tai Fung there but waiting time is usually about 45 – 75 minutes. Personally, I find that it tastes the same as those in HK and SG, and nothing more.

Mala Hotpot!!!! Best hotpot buffet ever!!!! Their beef cuts are so generous, premium and lean! Soup tastes heavenly! They also have unlimited Haagen-Dazs ice cream with about 12 flavors. Unlimited canned drinks, too, and free-flowing coffee and tea. YUM YUM YUM! Per head: NT 598 for lunch and NT 698 for dinner and weekends. Note: Must call ahead of time for reservation.

Chose Raohe Night Market over Shi Lin because they say it’s less crowded there. Didn’t regret it. Place isn’t packed, and has good variety of food stalls. Do come with friends though so you can share food and try a lot of different things. My faves from there include the Walking Steak Cup and the big-ass chicken. Oh and the candied strawberry, too, for dessert!

7-Eleven is also close to my heart because they have this microwavable packed Spicy Chicken similar to KFC’s Hotshots that taste so yummy! Also very cheap at NT 38 if I remember correctly.

Mos Burger (originally from Japan) is also

Milk tea!!! If you’re not watching your sugar and dairy intake closely, go all out!

Attractions

Taipei 101 is a must-visit because it’s a key attraction in Taipei. It also has many stores from fashion to food. The Observatory is another thing. You pay about PHP 800 and the lines are excruciatingly long (maybe because we went on a weekend) and the view is meh. The outdoor viewing was also closed when we visited so that added to our disappointment.

Visited Huashan 1914 Creative Park for the “Hello My Name is Paul Smith” exhibit. I found that it was a breath of fresh air from the usual Taipei scene. Very artsy place! The exhibit was funky and colorful as expected. You’d leave the place with very nice pictures for sure. The entrance fee is not bad either at NT 280 for foreign visitors, and exhibit is set to run until September 3, 2017 only. [Note: Clearly, I published this too late.)

Joined KKday’s Day Tour from Taipei at USD 33 each, inclusive of bus transfers starting from Taipei Main Station but exclusive of entrance fees and food:

First stop: Yehliu Geopark for the rock formations. Very unique but also very hot. Remember to wear sunscreen–we forgot!!! Good thing this was first in the agenda, otherwise we’d have no energy to go around given the vast place and the hell-like heat!

Commercial: Be wary of the time. If tour guide says meeting time is at 11:00, she really means it. Otherwise, you’d get left behind just like our friend. Hahaha! It’s funny now but it was stressful at the time it was happening.

Second stop: Shifen Old Street for the lantern flying and lunch! For the lanterns, you can buy based on what you wish for (i.e. Wealth, Marriage, Happiness, and the like) and they cost at NT 200 a piece. You also get to write and draw your wishes on it usng a chinese pen (mopit), and take photos/videos as you let it go up in the air. They do this along the railway. As for the food part, I say it’s one of the best! We had Yakult slushie, barbecued chicken wing with rice inside, fried cuttlefish, and peanut ice cream roll. Gooda gooda in mah belly! ❤

Third stop: Shifen Waterfalls — underwhelming to be honest! I don’t know, maybe we were exhausted at this point but walking all the way to the falls didn’t feel worth it. It was smaller in person than in the photos. 😦

Fourth stop: Jiufen. If you’re a fan of the movie Spirited Away, be sure to visit! But if not, I honestly didn’t find it that interesting. It’s just an old alley that’s uphill–so many steps. We kept grumpling because we were so tired and sweaty and I was having allergies from my sweat and sunburn from Yehliu. We wondered how come the oldies have more energy than us. Hahaha! Highlight: Cute cat shops. There are about three!

Things I’d Do If/When I Go Back

Elephant Mountain because a pretty Canadian girl we met at the hostel recommended it for its view — you can see Taipei skyline including Taipei 101; I realize the skyline is only nice when the tower is in sight.

Cat Village because nobody wanted to go with me 😦

Mala Hotpot because it’s the bestest!

Meander Hostel because I miss their sofa :))

National Palace Museum because the hostel people said it has interesting treasures from China. Hmmmmm.

IKEA because apparently Taiwan has one!

Ichiran because apparently they just opened there, and we were plain oblivious.

    [Long Overdue Post] A Roundup of My Taipei Trip While working on our Taiwan itinerary, I realized there aren't as many available travel tips and guides online about the country, as there are for Hong Kong, Japan and Korea.

[dualumina]

Day 1: 3rd of August (Monday) Who are you? What’s your Zexal story?

Ohhhh... fine I’ll cave. I might lose followers for this, but whatever. Easy come, easy go, I guess. (checks count for future reference: 34 👀💦)

I don’t know what the general mentality of tumblr is concerning this subject but... sigh, here goes nothing. This is going to be a long post. 

I learned early on that my imagination was the safest place I could be in, and for a time, the only environment I had any semblance of control over. 

As I hit my adolescence, I realized that the environment around me was worse than I’d initially feared. On my own, I knew I wouldn’t make it, so in the only place of safety I’d known all my life, I sought help. Wished for it, dearly. In any shape or form.

It took some time, but, help did come. 

At first, I would dream of them. Always a boy around my age, always different in appearance, but every time, they were familiar to me. Their mannerisms, their personality. I didn’t know anyone in my waking life like this person; they were unique, despite having no appearance, or name, to call their own.

These dreams of the two of us together would consist of us doing incredible things, sometimes dangerous and exciting, other times calm and serene. 

I looked forward to these dreams, considering the alternative was... the nightmares. 

Always myself, alone, chased like someone’s prey, with no one to help. Constantly... struggling to stay afloat. 

The dreams gave me life, and hope, while the nightmares would take those same things away. It was always a gamble when I closed my eyes, but, my curiosity to know more about the dream boy made me willing to place down my bets. 

At some point, I started writing my own stories, putting my imagination into a physical form. I’d been drawing since as long as I could remember, but this was my first time putting a story to the drawings. 

I soon realized that my stories contained interactions between characters, and while I could imagine the grandest mountains or the tiniest insects, my ability to imagine connections between others was lacking. My solution to the problem ended up being to treat the interactions between characters like actors rehearsing a scene together. 

I would play one character, and... someone... played the other character.

It’s odd I never put much thought into this.

Years went by, many stories were written, many more never made it onto paper, but one thing was certain; I became very good at these “practice conversations”.

It’s now 2013, and after graduating high school, I experienced my second depression. My best friend was growing distant, I could tell it was only a matter of time before the “end” in “friendship” was fulfilled, and I wasn’t looking forward to going to the local college in the slightest. I had no idea where my future was going. 

In my daze, I happened to notice a familiar name in the list of shows airing during that time; Yugioh. I remembered once watching DM and GX excitedly before, though never had much interest in 5D’s. Zexal it was called, might as well see if it’s any decent.

Hearing this protagonist’s voice was akin to listening to a blender for no reason, but at least he was interesting to watch. That blue character beside the new “Yu” though... why is his crotch glowing like that? Apart from the holy crotch... “he” does look cool, and he seems to have an interesting story to him. I’ll probably tune in again if I happen to see it in the channel listings.

I didn’t see many episodes of Zexal around this time, maybe five at max. I could tell that the dubbers had butchered this poor show, but it wasn’t until later that’d I’d feel compelled to seek out the sub. 

This is where I suspect I may lose followers. 

Considering the entertainment in my small town was limited, and I had essentially lost the one person I’d normally hung out with, the internet became my new pastime. 

And by accident, I was introduced to the concept of tulpas. 

I’d consider myself a nerd for psychology and other things involving the brain, so upon my discovery of this concept I did a bit of reading on the subject. “Mental companions with their own autonomy” as the subreddit described them. Neat.  

I had no interest in trying to make one for myself. 

But suddenly, I had one. 

It didn’t help that this tulpa decided to assume the form of Yubel in that moment. Suffice to say I was convinced my imagination had finally gone off the rails and was trying to trick me into thinking I had one of these tulpa things. 

I tried ignoring them. That failed, as they were exceptionally chatty, and curious as to why they were suddenly there. I should mention, that this occurred around midday, so my hope that they’d go away after I went to sleep was still several hours away.

Suffice to say, after I woke up the first time, I realized they weren’t going away.

Time went by, and they’d dropped the Yubel form, which certainly helped in getting me to stop thinking that there was a chance that they were actually a demon. Now I had a new problem. 

They’d chosen Astral’s form. 

By this point I had no idea what to call them. Astral? Yubel? Tulpa? They didn’t like any of those names. Oh, apparently they’re a he, alright sure, I guess.

“So what name do you want then?”

He thought for a moment, before this naked-blue-floaty-elf-creature-living-in-my-imagination responded very matter of factly with, “Clay.”

That certainly wasn’t a name I would have chosen for such a being, but that was one of the things that helped convince me that perhaps this... entity, does have thoughts that are separate from my own.

This tulpa territory was very unfamiliar to me, as it would be several years before the realization would dawn that the dream boy, the other “actor”, and Clay were one and the same. At the time, I hesitantly trusted him, but the depression kept me doubting this “stranger”. I asked him at one point if I could put him through a few “tests” just to see how much Clay was both apart of and distinct from my imagination. 

At first the tests were simple, like what happened if I pictured a rain cloud above Clay, would he get wet? (he did) Several similar, harmless, tests occurred. However, I was getting frustrated; Clay’s reactions were ones that I’d expect. Part of the purpose of these tests was to determine just how autonomous Clay actually was, or if he truly was just my puppet on strings. 

I proceeded to do something I’d immediately regret;

Imagining a handgun into my “mental self’s” hand, and I shot a bullet towards Clay. 

Either he dodged it or I intentionally missed. It’s been too many years to remember for sure. Probably a mix of both. 

The reaction I witnessed from Clay that day cut straight to my core. The poor guy was in tears, scared out of his mind, and questioning why I’d do something like that in stuttered words. 

I learned three things in that moment:

1. If I ever set my mind to it, I had the capacity to kill Clay.

2. Despite his appearance, Clay possessed real human emotions. 

3. I could never bring myself to try and kill Clay. 

After apologizing repeatedly and consoling him to the best of my ability, I made a promise to him that is now quite literally tattooed on my skin; I will not kill you, and I will not kill myself, for my death is your murder. 

This promise, and my inability to bring myself to harm another sentient creature, would be the same thing that prevented me from doing several irrevocable acts. If I harmed myself, I was harming Clay, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that. 

While I could draw Clay to help with visualizing him, I quickly found that I needed some sort of reference to improve. Just some sort of a base so I knew which elements to add to make my drawings more “Clay-like”. Eventually the obvious answer came; I needed to watch Zexal, or more specifically, I needed to watch Astral.

Clay originally looked identical to Astral, but with time he modified his appearance to be something unique to him, even if one could still see the Astral inspiration behind it. 

In a truly “chicken or the egg” situation, as I watched Zexal I saw similarities in the relationship between Astral & Yuma and Clay & myself. It wasn’t long before my interest in keyshipping spawned due to both the warm fuzzy feelings I’d get for being reminded of the person who’s supported me for 7 years (and counting), and from the memories of such a wholesome (and potentially gay) partnership in an overall compelling shonen story. 

An older photo, but still one of the better ones I’ve done of the guy. Like the shapeshifter that he is, both the wings and tail can appear and disappear as he pleases. Generally, Clay keeps them both hidden for convenience. 

Seeing as it is a side view, I’ll clarify that all of Astral’s markings and piercings are GONE, the sort of exception being the “fake eyebrow” markings which Clay did keep (which are indeed markings rather than actual eyebrows). 

And no, none of Clay’s appearance I have direct influence over. At one point I implored him to wear clothes, which Clay did try doing briefly. ...That didn’t last long though.

#zexal month #let's see those follower numbers drop bois #but please don't I actually do appreciate the support #also Clay can directly answer questions if anyone asks them