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thelittlestcheshire · 3 years

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Self Para 008: I Don’t Pretend to Know the Challenges You’re Facing Word Count: 2024 words When: July 2020, in the early hours of July 19th during Ches’s birthday trip Note: I decided I’m going to queue up and post one of the old self paras I never posted, Feel free to skip it, since it’s a past event and stuff. TWs: Rape (mentioned / discussed), Anxiety Attacks, Alcoholism / Drinking, Hangovers, Vomitting, Death, suicide (not exactly but there’s a definite apathy towards the idea of death this as well so better safe than sorry), murder (her mother)

There was a loud thud as a purse landed on the suite’s floor as Ches stumbled through the front door. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to galaxy edge before closing for drinks, but she was desperate to feel good. Yet, no matter how much she drank today, she didn’t feel the happiness that tended to run through her veins. She felt worse and worse. Even the sight of the balloons in the living room from Emmett and his girlfriend didn’t bring any sort of joy.

It was her fault her mother died; she should have been here instead of Ches. And the more gifts she received, the more she thought back to why her mother was dead. If she hadn’t gone to get gifts for Jonah... it felt like the room was spinning as the thought came back. Wait, no, the room was definitely spinning.

“Hey Ches, sorry I needed to- fuck.” Zander had just come out from the living room, likely taking her up on his offer to hide, but his attempt to avoid people is forgotten by the time he reaches her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” There were two of him by the time he wraps an arm around her to support her. “It’s been a long night.” He starts to lead her to her bedroom, and it’s hard to keep her feet under her as they walk. But he saves her from crashing to the floor and manages to get her on the bed.

“It wasn’t a night.” She slurs at him as she rests her head against her pillow. “Sky and I, you know. Club 33.” She knew the look on his faces even through the intoxicated haze. She knew he wasn’t happy about this. “I’m okay.” She informs him, starting to sit up. The room begins to move again, and for a moment, she feels like she might just be sick. She moves quickly, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits. Zander quickly behind her to hold back her hair. “See, fine.” She gets out weakly as she flushes the toilet.

“Definitely not fine.” He disagrees as he smooths out her hair. “I’m staying with you tonight, at least until you feel better.” It’s obvious she had no say in the matter, and she doesn’t waste the energy to protest. She slowly gets up, nearly falling face-first as she attempts to reach the bathroom sink to brush her teeth. He’s there in an instant to keep her from tumbling. Perhaps he had a point. She accepts the assistance as she brushes her teeth and doesn’t fight him as he leads her back to the bed and messes with all her pillows to ensure she’s propped up on her side.

“I hate you.”

The words just slip off her tongue. Not how she genuinely felt in the slightest. Zander doesn’t seem to take offense. However, he just runs his fingers through her hair. “I know, I know. I’m the worst. Time for you to sleep.” He whispers back to her. She frowns, but she shuts her eyes, anyway. She’s not sure how long it takes: perhaps it’s minutes, maybe it was hours, but eventually she falls asleep.

—

Opening her eyes felt like literally crawling out of a grave when she finally does wake up, the only light shining was from a phone beside her. “Turn that damn thing off. It hurts,” Ches grumbles, the man beside her laying on top of her blankets complies. “What time is it anyway?”

“4 am, give or take.”

Zander’s answer only causes her to groan as she fixes her pillows the way she likes them. “Shit. No wonder I feel like I was run over by a freight train.” She continues to adjust her pillows, settling into a comfortable spot as she rolls over onto her back.

“No, I think that’s thanks to Club 33.” Zander gives her a pointed look. How did he even know she’d gone drinking there? That she had a membership at all for that matter. “I could pay for the entirety of my college tuition with how much you’ve spent on this trip. Couldn’t I?” There was something about his tone that feels off, that despite his words, it wasn’t the Disneyland trip he was frustrated with at the moment. “You’re spiraling again. The fancy trip, the mass text about Leo, the drinking. Fuck, everything that’s occurred since you came back to Luxor. Spring break, prom, open house. What’s going on?” Of course, he’d notice things weren’t right. Her luck couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“It’s the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death.” The excuse slides off her tongue quickly. But even in the dark, she could make out the look on his face. He knew she was lying, and yet she didn’t change her tune. She couldn’t. After what happened with Lucy, she wasn’t going to tell anyone about that ever again. “Zander, that’s all there is to everything. Drop it.”

He opens his mouth as if he had something to say, but he quickly shuts up. After a few seconds where it looks like he’s not going to push, she takes a breath. But her relief is short-lived when he finally speaks. “Has anyone ever mentioned you crinkle your nose when you lie?”

“I do not!” She protests immediately. Did she really have such an obvious tell? “I’m not lying. That’s really all there is to it. Please.” The word sounds like a plea, and as she hears it, she can’t help but dread him picking up on it. She didn’t need to give him more to question when he was already treading into territory she couldn’t stand to think about. How could she discuss it again? She barely got through it with Lucy.

“Okay, I just have one more question then. Why is your father spending so much money on you lately? Taking the entire school to Disneyland, a suite just for you to hide in, him showing up to graduation. Your Club 33 membership cost could be a household’s entire annual salary, There has to be a reason he’s tossing money at you so aggressively.”

The question causes her blood to run cold. What was she supposed to say? That his father suddenly saw the error of his ways became invested in her life. The lie didn’t even seem plausible, let alone believable. The entire truth hurt too much to think about; she didn’t want to get into the reasons. The best she could offer was the truth, without any details. “He feels guilty.”

“About your mom?” Zander’s voice is so soft, and as the slight hint of guilt starts to leak into it, she can feel her heart starting to break. He was too good to her, too safe, and he doesn’t even hesitate as she moves closer to him on the bed and tries to crawl into his arms. As she starts to sob, he just accepts that right now she needed someone to hold her. “I’m sorry, Chessie. I-”

“It’s not about maman, Zan. When I was home I had to attend his dinner parties, and his VP, he-” She can’t even finish getting the words out as she starts to sob, as the panic sets in and she clings tighter to him. The thought of that evening made her wish she could carve off her skin as if it’d erase the memories of that night from her mind. The more she remembers, the harder it feels to gasp for air, and the faster she breathes as her eyes rapidly search for the nearest escape route.

“Ches, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice is gentle as he starts stroking her hair again. For a moment, she goes completely still as she tries to remind herself this was Zander. “You’re safe, I promise. Nobody’s going to hurt you here.” She focuses on the sound of his voice as he tries to comfort her, and slowly, but surely, oxygen is easier to catch. The fear was still lingering; the urge to flee and never look back was overwhelming. “You don’t have to say anything, okay.”

“Look where not saying anything got me, Zander.” She snaps at him, the words just coming out suddenly. “He fucking raped me, and I have to- no, I’m expected to just stay quiet and move past it. Sometimes I’m not sure if the money is because my dad is upset it happened or to keep my mouth shut. You know, he was the one who made me drop the charges.” She still could remember that talk with her father. She could shut her eyes and picture it as if it was five minutes ago still, her father pacing around the living room in their penthouse looking almost as disheveled as he had at her mother’s funeral, practically begging her to let him handle this behind closed doors because he didn’t think she’d survive a trial. “Said he thought I’d kill myself if we went to trials, he handled it behind the scenes.”

“It’s out of love, either way, I think,” Zander says gently as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to speak at all. Honestly, Ches isn’t sure she wants him to talk either. The last time she’d discussed it, she hadn’t felt any better. In ways, she felt worse - guilty for burdening Lucy with something so heavy she couldn’t explain to anyone else.

“I know.”

The words are hard for her to get out, even if it’s the truth. She knew that her father loved her, even when it sometimes felt like he didn’t care nearly enough. Perhaps, in its own fucked up way, this was his way of showing he cared. Her father’s actions weren’t out of ill intent.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, you had a horrible year.” He wasn’t wrong about that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized seventeen had truly sucked. “But, you can’t destroy yourself in your attempts to cope. I can’t figure out how you got back without hurting yourself. That’s an issue.”

“It’s not a deal-breaker.” As Ches continues to calm down slowly, the realization she’s trembling begins to dawn on her. “I don’t care if I die, you know.”

“Well I do. Lucy and Avery do, and Elliot would be devastated, so that’s not an option, for starters. So this shit needs to stop.” Zander’s voice is firm, almost like when Logan had no other choice but to scold them. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but this isn’t the answer, Hailey.”

For a brief moment, she considers saying something about her first name, but she doesn’t. She was too drained to fight with him over it. The use could be tolerated for one night. “You can’t tell anyone, Zander. The only person who knows is Lucy.” She says instead as she pulls herself out of his arms to lay in bed again.

“And your therapist?”

“Doesn’t know anything either.” She shuts her eyes as she says the word. Of course, she didn’t go to her therapist about this; it felt too painful to revisit, too heavy to bring words to at times. “Just promise me, Zander.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She can feel him moving on the bed beside her to start to get up as he says the words, her arm quickly reaching out to stop him. “But, I think you need to talk to your therapist. And-”

“Okay.” She agrees. “But, can you stay? I don’t want- I can’t be alone right now. Please?” The boy stops trying to move at her confession, the admittance she needed someone there. “I think being alone is a bad idea, and I don’t think I can ask Elli to-”

“I’ll stay, as long you need me to.”

She doesn’t say anything as she moves her arm back to her side of the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll question it, but soon the only noise is the sound of his phone unlocking as the two settle into a comfortable silence.

#you know i adore queue #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )#a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you ( self paras )#events ( ches's birthday 2020 )#rape tw #vomiting tw #vomit tw #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #drinking tw #all you cool people better leave now 'cause it's about to happen ( balo | zander )#death tw #suicide tw #murder tw

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henry-cavill-baby · 4 years

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Mark of the Witcher ┃2

Chapter 2: Djinnefer

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Original Female Character

Length: 3k

Warnings: Some smut

Taglist: @lowkeyofsassguard (it’s not letting me tag you, sorry!)

Summary: Bottled Appetites and Carnal Desires

Sleep, it seemed, was an unattainable star in the vast night sky.

And this assumption was proved by one Geralt of Rivia; a Witcher who hadn’t been blessed with a good nights rest in… how long had it been? Two weeks now?

And this wasn’t to go without saying that Geralt had tried hours of peaceful meditation aside Roach, honing in on the wafting breeze through the loose fall leaves ready to fall to the forest floor. The birds in the nearby bushes tittering to one another did nothing but irritate Geralt.

It seemed everything annoyed the Witcher these days.

Monsters seemed to be far and few as of late and the lack of villagers screaming for help and tossing him their coin left him nearly penniless. The utter silence and animal chatter of the forest was no good for Geralt, it took his mind to the memories of his youth in Kaer Morhen—ones he could live without reliving.

Huffs from under the large wicker tree had Geralt turning to Roach, golden eyes squinting with sleep at the companion. “Can’t sleep either.” His voice is gruff and caked with drowsiness, his legs nearly weary as he hefts to stand.

The sun had cleared the misty sky and it burned his eyes.

The ground is muddy near the water bank as Geralt tries to plant his steps and stalk by the river, golden net tight in his fists. Creatures and Demons—the occasional horde of Drowners pried on livestock, and killing a one of them was more work than worth the coin. There were no sounds that would give way to a hiding spot for a scrounging demon to try to take him by surprise.

“Lovely ladies from Nilfgaard… and their ladies can kiss my—Geralt?”

Geralt almost stumbled in his step as a voice known all to well permeated through the air, a frowned expression overcoming his tired face. Of all the things he did not need, this would be the second.

Geralt turns and sees Jaskier—the bard is dressed in a blue and white tunic better fit for a court bard, with that cursed lute still cradled in his arms, pants puffy around the thighs in an obnoxiously fashionable manner—and turns back to the river with a low growl.

“What’s it been? Years? Months?” Jaskier pondered aloud, smiling at the sight of his friend, Geralt. “Does time even matter anymore, really.”

Geralt grunts as Jaskier goes on, still following like an overgrown pup. “I heard you were in town, you know, and while I have missed you dearly—I do think it’s time you got a hobby. You know, get out and see the world.” A thought popped into the Bards head. “Speaking of seeing the world, have you stopped by Cintra?”

The name Cintra nearly chills Geralt’s bones, but he just grunts out a hard, “No.” Continuing on the path along the riverbank, Geralt listens as Jaskier talks to himself.

“How am I, I hear you ask; I’m good, thanks for asking.” Jaskier huffed as his shoes sank slid on a patch of dry mud. “You see, I recently bedded the sweetest Countess and then, right after our fifth round of passionate love making, she sends me away. Can you believe that, Geralt?”

Geralt ignored him in favor of throwing his net in the water… and pulling it back empty. Fuck, he thought, and continued.

“Still a man of few words,” Jaskier hums, taking a swig of watered down ale that seemed a to be on the hotter side. The taste nearly turned his tongue.

“What are you doing, Geralt?” Jaskier nods to the empty net, finally deciding give in to his curiosity.

“Fishing?” He speculated with a frown. “You may be good at many things but I doubt that fishing is your forte. That is unless you catch one and are willing to share with an old friend?”

Geralt grunts and continues along the water line, next in hand as mud cakes everything up to his ankles. Shaking his head, Geralt throws the net again.

“You are still a Witcher right?” Jaskier hums. “I see you haven’t changed your outfit… or hair… or anything really. Why—What are you fishing for, exactly?”

“Is it carp? Is that your favorite?”

No answer.

“Or trout, do you like trout?”

No answer.

“Pike?”

Still no answer.

“Zander? I’m just listing fish now—is that a fish?”

Geralt sighs deeply in his chest, turning to Jaskier with the empty net in hand. “I’m not fishing.” The net is tossed back into the river. “I can’t sleep.”

“Ah.” Jaskier mutters. “That makes complete sense in the sense that it… makes none.” Jaskier stepped as close to the Witcher as was comfortable. “Geralt, talk to me.” Finally, a hint of concern etches into the Bards voice. “What’s happened? Is it about…you know.”

“No.” Geralt snaps. “She has nothing to do with this.” He spits with venom, eyes blazing with unadulterated rage. “I’m looking for a djinn and it’s somewhere in this lake, and I can’t fucking sleep!” He spits before stomping farther down and throws the net, trying to relax his shoulders.

“A djinn—a floating djinn—like a genie?” Jaskier questioned while ignoring the outburst.

“The bad tempered fellas who trick you with the three wish nonsense.” Jaskier nodded to himself, “And pray tell, how will this djinn help with your little problem?”

Jaskier answered himself: “And I’m not one to tell you how to live your life, Geralt, believe me, I don’t want to know what you get up to in your free time. But have you even considered that maybe this has to do with what you’ve been avoiding since last I saw you, currently still are?”

The words were unspoken between them: Child Surprise—Law of Surprise; destiny and what have you.

“No,” Geralt grunts. “It’s not about that. Not everything has to do with her, Jaskier.”

It was a lie he’d been telling himself for all these years now. The dreams never stopped, the cravings never quelled, and the urge to run to Cintra and take what was his boiled beneath the surface, like a pot of stew on the brink of spillage.

“Well, you could be right.” Jaskier hummed, leaning against a shady oak, watching Geralt hock the net back into the murky waters. “But you could be wrong. How old is she now, ten? Twelve?” Jaskier took a sour tone, “Do you even care, Geralt?”

“You know, a lovely Countess told me that Destiny only works harder when those enthralled by it resist its call. And that the harder you run away, the more desperate you become.”

Geralt moves closer to the water and throws in the net again, bending down to see if he’d caught anything and turning to raise a judgmental eyebrow at Jaskier. “Did you sing to her before she sent you away?” He grunted, glaring at the empty net.

“Yes I did.” Jaskier proudly answered then paused, stomping to his friend and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me something, Geralt?”

Chucking the next into the water once more, Geralt turned to Jaskier, raising one white brow with lips in a thin line. The voice of the bard is only making his agitation worse, and he prays for Roach to chase him away.

“No, really—Geralt, be honest with me,” Jaskier bellows into the empty forest. “How is my singing?”

The trees are silent and the bird flutter in anticipation, watching with beady eyes as the Witcher stands tall with a wet empty net, throwing it back into the watery depths once more.

“It’s like eating a pie and finding it has no filling.”

Jaskier stumbles back in shock at his friend’s horrendous insult, sputtering, “You—need a nap!”

Hands planted firmly on his hips and a scowl deeply etched on his soft face, Jaskier waited for his lug of a friend to turn and apologize for being rude. Instead—

“Hm.” Geralt hummed as he pulled the net from the waters, finally having caught his treasure. It was the size of a jug of ale, corked tightly with the symbol of the wizard who’d sealed it away. There was no certainty as to how long it had been down there, and djinns tended to veer towards to malevolent side the longer they were trapped.

Jaskier had been right in that they tended to play tricks when tempted by the faults of men, but Geralt was no man.

“What is—is that it? You found it?” Jaskier asked whilst coming to stand before Geralt. “Can I just—“

“Jaskier—“

They were in a standoff; Jaskier grasping the handle as Geralt refused his hold on the seal, staring at the bard with his deadly gaze. Neither was willing to let go.

Geralt’s attempts at tugging were moot, “Let go.”

But Jaskier was adamant in his grip, “Take back that bit about my filling less pie, and then you can have your sleepy little djinn.”

The urge to simply rip it from Jaskier was more tempting as the seconds passed. But at least the djinn was finally found and he could wish for a batch of well needed rest, though as long as Jaskier was around it wouldn’t be a peaceful sleep.

The Wizards seal popped off the top of the djinn’s previously captive state, and with that, all hell broke loose.

Aleira huffed from her windowsill, looking down at the children playing down below in the streets. None of them had nice clothes, clean faces or fussed up hair. They had no cares in the world outside of games and survival within the protected walls of Cintra. It was such an easy life to live. Guards stand posted by any door leading into the castle making it nearly impossible for anyone to sneak in or out.

The sky was cloudy above the looming Castle, and she prayed for the rains to fall.

“Princess?” the druid Mousesack calls from outside the door, his head poking in to see the eldest child in the line of the throne.

Everything in the young girls room is beyond cleanliness, aside from the stacks of parchment on the wooden desk, a dried up ink quill abandoned. Frown lines mar his face as she turns, showing off her defeated face. “And pray tell, what is the cause of your unhappiness?”

Aleira sighed, palm holding her cheek as she gazed out the window once more. “Nothing, Mousesack.”

He hmm’s and steps into the room, shutting the door behind and falling to his knees before the small princess. “I can’t fix what you won’t tell me.” Baby blue eyes watered before him, and he reached up to cup her cheek, “Please, Aleira.”

Her voice trembled, “Why can’t I go outside like Cirilla?” One finger pointed outside the window, smashing against the glass. “I hate being inside these walls everyday. I despise the lessons at every hour and having dinner with Grandmother every single night. I want to be out there with everyone else, Mousesack. I want…”

I want to be like everyone else

Mousesack let forth a deflated sigh, patting the silk clothed knee of the princess. “Believe me when I say that I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Aleira.” Unspoken words lay lodged in his throat, as he stands tall looking down upon her.

“Grandmother wants to keep me locked away.” Aleira let the words flow. “And I’m beginning to think you would have it that way as well. “

Mousesack shakes his head, grey hairs flying. “That isn’t true and you know it. Every choice the Queen makes is to protect you—“

“Protect me from what?” Aleira demands, standing up and glaring up at the Castle Druid. Her eyes are ablaze with fury and her hands clench at her sides, nails digging into soft skin.

“Our Kingdom is well protected and there hasn’t been an attempt on any of us in years. There’s no reason that a child like Cirilla can prance around with the other children but I’m locked away in here like a monster!” Her voice is trembling with anger, staring up at the man who raised her more than her parents.

Yes, they’d died two years ago, but even then, Mousesack was the closest she had to a father; Calanthe was no mother.

“You’ll understand one day, I swear to it.” Mousesack tries to reasons, moving to leave the girl to her juvenile rage.

“Is it about Geralt?” The name slipped through her lips like a curse. “Is he the cause of all this? Is he to blame for my suffering?”

Aleira wrenched back as Mousesack darted forwards, pulling her close and staring with pursed lips and dark eyes, “Who told you that name?”

His reaction is enough to cause a tendril of fear to flutter up her spine. “No one.” She mutters, trying to move away.

“Aleira,” Mousesack murmurs, trying to calm his racing heart. “This is a matter of your safety, as well as this Kingdom.” She can feel the Druid’s magic haphazardly swirling in the air.” I need you to tell me who told you that name.”

Regret boils in her veins; she should’ve kept it to herself.

That name had sounded like a curse on the tongue of Calanthe, and truly, Aleira had no clue whom this Geralt even was. She’d tried to hear more of the conversation from the hallway, but it had taken a turn to plans concerning the invasion of a foreign forest, and those plans were of no importance to her. The memory of lying in bed and wondering why the name Geralt sparked something deep in her was still a mystery.

“Grandmother.” She muttered while meeting Mousesack’s eyes. “I was eavesdropping and I heard it, I swear.”

That seemed to be enough for the Druid to pull back whilst nodding to himself, hands wringing and eyes darting about the room. Uncertainty whirled around his mussed hair, and she barely had a moment to watch him flee the room.

Subconsciously, she reached back and rubbed the tender skim on the back of her left shoulder, eyeing the salve gifted to her by Mousesack. It was cold on her skin but the aching fled easily, and Aleira collapsed on her bed, listening to the sounds of the children below.

Sunlight poured in through the cracked windows lining the near decimated castle walls. The floors were scattered with crumbled pieces of granite walls and mountains of pillows littered the floor.

The grunts and moans of Yennefer of Vengerberg—one of the strongest witches known to come from Aretuza with a proclivity for chaos and self mischief—echoed around the room as Geralt hefted her hips up higher in his grasp, bottoming out in her wet cunt.

He hadn’t come in to help her expecting a fuck, hadn’t intended for her to try and be a host for the djinn like a madwoman, and the strange desire to not see her die had cost him a wish. This third wish had nearly involved the Witch. Kindness was not a Witcher’s strength. But she had saved Jaskier—even if for her own preposterous reasons—and though kindness was not his forte, paying back favors was.

A life for a life, something along those lines.

Wet slaps of skin echoed as Geralt shut his eyes, nails digging into the soft flesh of her tanned thigh. His pace grew erratic and punishing as the walls of her cunt deliciously drew him in, his own moans joining hers. Ecstasy flooded his veins—carnal desire rising to the surface of his warm flesh.

It had too long since he’d felt a woman’s flesh. It was all too intoxicating for him to bear. When Geralt opened his eyes, expecting to gaze into the lilacs of Yennefer, he saw the ocean blue of his child Surprise.

The girl from his dreams was bare under his naked body; her full round tits bounced with each thrust and he could not resist the eager desire to take one into his mouth and suck like a newborn babe, biting the sensitive flesh. She still smelled of peaches, ones fresh enough to kill a man for, and he would—kill a man for her, that is.

Geralt would burn worlds for this girl, and he didn’t even know her name.

His curls fanned out on the surroundings pillows, and he longed to kiss the full lips that begged for his attention. His thrusts grew erratic and his hold grew tight, wishing this were real.

The mirage of her was gone all too fast and Yennefer screamed to the high heavens and flopped back onto the pillows, cunt walls fluttering around the cock buried deep inside. She was limp as he pulled his soft wet cock slowly out, collapsing next to her. There was no sound but the chattering outside from Jaskier, who’d definitely gotten an eyeful.

“If I’d known Witchers fucked like that, I would have gotten one myself a long time ago.” Yennefer turned and smirked, reaching forward to pin a piece of his white hair behind his ear.

“I’m sure my brothers would make a fine harem.” He grunted, keeping his hands to himself. It felt wrong to want to caress her, so he didn’t.

“Do you have a lover, Geralt of Rivia?” She asked with a raised brow. “I won’t be jealous, promise.”

He grunted but shook his head, “Having a lover would take time away from hunting monsters.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She hummed while twirling a piece of white hair. “I will admit that you are not as scary as you think.”

“Really?” A chuckled rumbled in Geralt’s chest. “You would be surprised how many people throw me out of their town once I’ve done their bidding.”

“Humans are dull, Geralt. Never get entangled with one, they will only disappoint you.” She laughed, “Or die, or get sick.”

“None of us are immune to death, Yennefer.”

Chuckling, Yennefer sat up and stretched. “You would be surprised what tricks a mage like myself can do.” A look of curiosity overcame her beautiful face, “Who were you thinking of? When you were rutting into me like a dog, Geralt?”

There’s no chance to deny it, “I know you saw someone else.”

Telling her about his Child Surprise feels… wrong, so he doesn’t.

“A woman I knew in Blaviken who didn’t see me as a monster.” He recalled, turning to look into her wide lilac orbs. “She was kinder than any man I’ve ever know.”

The two of them laid back and basked in the days sun, not touching but not far apart. They both knew they would need to rise soon and face whatever was to come, but this moment of peace was too good to pass up. And Jaskier singing much to loud outside would be best avoided.

“Aleira.” Yennefer declared, not looking away from the sun. “You called me Aleira; was that her name?”

Chapter 3... eventually, don’t rush me plz

Hope you enjoyed!

#the witcher fanfic #the witcher #Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #geralt imagines #geralt of rivia x oc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagines

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spnfanficpond · 3 years

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Pond Diving - Katelynw93

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Katelyn, but most people call me Kate, Katie or sometimes even Kat.

Age: 27

Location: Originally from Kansas, but have been located in Upstate NY for the last six years.

URL: @katelynw93

Why did you choose your URL: It’s usually the username that I use for everything and if I’m being honest, I’m not very creative when it comes to titles or names. Lol. I’ve been meaning to change it; I just need to decide on what.

What inspired you to become a writer: Well, when I was in middle school (maybe seventh or eighth grade), my best friend and I decided to write a story together and post it on a fanfiction site (Can’t remember the site name, though.) And I just loved it. We never did finish that story. Lol. But eventually I started branching out and found some roleplay writing sites.

How long have you been writing: Started writing in middle school (2006/2007), but really got into it in 2009 with RP. However, September of this year (2020) was the first year I started really writing fics by myself and opening posting them.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I work a lot, usually an average of 40+ hours a week; I am a manager at a popular food chain restaurant and on the weekends, a cashier at a gas station to provide a little extra cash for my family. When I’m not working, my time is spent with my two kids; Alekzander (Zander) who just turned five this past November and Lincoln (Link) who will be two in February. Outside of work and my family, I’m usually writing. Sometimes if I’m feeling extra creative or inspired, I’ll create a few crackships for couples I really enjoy. Lol.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I actually found Supernatural around the same time I started writing, so back in ninth grade, so 2008/2009. It was honestly an accident too, because I was searching for Smallville episodes (I have an unhealthy addiction to Superman and DC/Marvel.) and stumbled upon an ad for Supernatural. Was instantly intrigued and fell in love. Seasons 1 - 5 (the Kripke era) are my favorite.

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Oh yea, I love TV shows and movies, and as I’ve already stated above, I love DC and Marvel. I’ve also written for Grey’s Anatomy and am willing to write for more, but SPN, DC and Grey’s are currently the only ones I’ve written for. I love The Vampire Diaries, One Tree Hill, Private Practice, Station 19, 9-1-1, Game of Thrones, The Witcher, Merlin, Dexter, Psych, and so, so many more. There are too many to list. Lol.

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Other than RPing, not really. I mean, I did try to do an original story with my friend when I was younger, but it never went anywhere. But I am willing to try someday.

Favorite published author: Other than the really big authors like; J.K. Rowling, George R.R. Martin, Jim Butcher, Nicholas Sparks, Suszanne Collins, I really like (and maybe it’s cliche) Stephenie Meyer. The Twilight Saga made me fall in love with reading and eventually, that love led me to writing. Those books hold a special place in my heart.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Well, I guess I sort of answered that one already. But there truly are so many amazing books out there and still so many more to discover.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): Oh man, I’m not gonna lie, a majority of what I read is probably smut. But I am particularly fond of angst. I want you to make me cry. Really dig and stab into my emotions. Lol. And then come back in with some fluff. Haha.

Favorite piece of your own writing: Well, that would have to be Sweet Cherry Pie because it was really the first piece I’ve ever finished and published online. It was inspired by an RP that I am currently involved in and they are my favorite couple in said RP. It got so much positive feedback after I shared it that it inspired me to keep writing. I was so nervous about posting it, but I am glad I did.

Most underrated fic you have written: Oh I’m not sure. Maybe Love Bites. I am a sucker for Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries crossovers. I really loved writing this fic and am eager to write more.

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Oh damn, um, it’d be cool to see any of them like that. But maybe Sweet Cherry Pie or Out of the Fire (my firefighter!Dean series).

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): There are so many, but I usually find myself reading work from; @impala-dreamer, @katehuntington @deanwanddamons, @muchamusedaboutnothing.

Favorite Fic from another writer: This one is tough because there are so many amazing fics out there, especially ones that I adddddore; but if forced to choose, one story that will always stick with me would have to be Treacherous by @idkhaylijah OR The Sullivan Series by Kate Huntington

Favorite character to write: Dean Winchester. I adore Dean and he’s probably the easiest for me to write. I have written the most fics with him and I portray him often in the RPs that I do.

Favorite Pairing to write: Dean with anyone, but my favorite would be Dean x Caroline.

Least favorite character to write (and why): That’s a tough one, cause there’s not really any that I’m uncomfortable with or dislike writing. Maybe characters with accents, because I don’t really know how to capture that in writing yet? I’m pretty open with my writing and am willing to try mostly anything.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Oh definitely. When I first started RPing, there was another girl (Jocelyn) that I used to write with and she influenced a lot of my writing. She was older than me and had more experience and gave me a lot of tips on how to get better. She is an amazing writer and had the potential of going far with it, but life happens and unfortunately, she doesn’t write anymore. But she is booming on Youtube, so that’s pretty impressive. It’s pretty cool to see how far she’s come.

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I used to want to be a journalist when I was younger, but other than that, not really. I just want to have fun with it and write something meaningful for someone, and always improve and get better.

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: I have a few ideas jotted down, maybe ten, but I haven’t actually started any of them. I have so many bingo cards I need to finish, but with my work schedule, it’s been pretty crazy.

What are you currently working on? My main project is Out of the Fire.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Definitely the RPing that I’ve done and am currently doing. My friend Alesha has been the longest RP partner that I’ve had and her writing is phenomenal - and it helps a lot too when your mind's work in similar ways; her and I always seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to writing. I love it. But like me, she has a very busy schedule and writing is limited.

Best writing advice you've been given: Have fun with it, write what you want to write and always be open to helpful criticism. And don’t stress about it, either. Write in your own time. It’s meant to be fun, not stressful.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Just finding the time to write and getting over being so self conscious about my writing. I don’t let anyone in my real life read what I write.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? Just capturing the personalities of the canon characters sometimes; if it’s a character I’m not used to writing, I worry about portraying them the right way. And I have trouble individualizing the characters (separating them from myself/my own personality), like when I create an OC for an RP, sometimes when I have too many, their personalities all become the same in ways (if that makes sense?). And accents. I have trouble with accents. Oh, and fight/action scenes. They take me a bit.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I am always going to be afraid, no matter what it is that I’m writing, because I worry about it succeeding. I want to write for other fandoms though, I guess, but like I said, I worry about capturing the characters right and having a decent storyline that is unique.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Honestly, positive feedback. I love hearing what people think about my writing and it motivates me to continue.

How do you deal with self-doubt: That’s a tough one. I guess I just look towards my writing friends or beta’s for reassurance or I go back and read the positive comments and likes on the fics I’ve already shared. It encourages me to continue.

How do you deal with writer's block: I usually listen to music and I’ll look up gifs of my favorite characters, create stories in my head with those gifs or I’ll create gif sets of specific scenes. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take a break and watch one of my favorite TV shows for inspiration.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: For my RPs, I have a group chat with those I’m writing with and we usually shoot ideas back and forth, but mostly we wing it. For my fics, I normally just wing it, but with Out of the Fire, I have a rough idea of what I want from each part. With that said, my ideas or plans often change as I’m writing. These characters have a mind of their own sometimes. Lol.

Do you have any weird writing habits: I don’t know about any weird habits, but I always have music on and I guess I have to do it in spurts. I’ll write a few paragraphs or sentences, pause and scroll tumblr or facebook or gifs, and then go back, reread what I wrote and then write a few more. Rise and repeat.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? So far, no I haven’t, and I hope I don’t ever have to deal with that. But I know it’s bound to happen. I guess if I were to ever encounter that, I’d like to say that I’ll take it as a learning experience but I honestly don’t know I’d feel about that.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? Oh man, I guess my favorite would have to be ellewritesfix05 reaction to the secret santa fic I wrote for her; Dean Fucking Winchester. And all the positive feedback I’ve gotten for Out of the Fire.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Have fun with it. Write what you want and what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid of constructive criticism and most importantly, don’t stress. Writing is fun.

#pond diving #pond diving: katelynw93 #spnfanficpond

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spookyboywhump · 4 years

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Tag List: @constellationwhump, @what-a-whumpy-world, @faewhump, @inky-whump, @slaintetowhump, @sodapigeon, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @insanitywishes @ihaventwritteninsolong @galaxywhump @pepperonyscience @whumpinparis @irondad-is-cannon-bitch @finder-of-rings

Please, let me know if I missed you or if you’d like to be tagged!

Is this kind of more filler to bridge the gap between the last post and the next planned event? Maybe. Did I focus more on Zander’s thoughts than detailing the fight on purpose? Maybe. Is it actually, finally an update to the main story? Yes, absolutely.

***

He tried to hide the broken rib, he really did. He wasn’t sure how Cain would react to an injury like this, he wasn’t sure if it would make him angry that Wren wouldn’t be able to fight again anytime soon, and now that he finally seemed to be getting on Cain’s good side he didn’t want to ruin it. He kept his complaints to himself, and thankfully the general wincing and whining through the day were chalked up to normal post-fight pain.

Zander seemed worried about him that night, after he’d woken up from sleeping the whole day. He already seemed to be doing better and Wren was relieved to see that, glad that he could be somewhat of a help to him. He’d woken up in time for dinner, Cain was in a good enough mood to feed both of them that night, and though he kept giving Wren these worried glances he didn’t say anything, both of them trying to keep Cain in a good mood. By now he knew to wait until he was told to eat, but even after Cain said okay he just stared tiredly at his food. He felt like even moving to eat would be too much at this point, hand clutching his side as the pain was strong enough to dull any hunger.

“What’s the matter, pup? Not hungry?” Cain asked when he’d finished his food and noticed Wren still hadn’t eaten.

“I think he’s hurt.” Zander said, and Cain rolled his eyes.

“Of course he’s hurt, did you see what that girl did to him yesterday?” He paused before saying, “Well, probably not, you were in and out of it the whole time.” He laughed as he knelt down in front of Wren, pushing his plate of food to the side and grabbing his face, forcing him to look up at him tiredly. “What’s the matter?” He asked again.

“I, um… m’ ribs hurt a lot…” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the floor. Cain frowned and pulled his hand away from his side, pushing his shirt up. There were dark bruises clustered around his ribs on the right side, both Cain and Zander made a face when they saw it.

“Shit, this is bad…” Cain murmured, using one hand to feel along his ribs. He pressed into the area that hurt most and Wren cried out, trying to jerk away.

“It’s broken.” Zander said with a frown, leaning over to look closer.

“Why didn’t you say anything, I could’ve gotten you looked at before we left last night.” Cain said, scowling as he got to his feet. “Damn it, how long does it take ribs to heal?” He asked, looking to Zander.

“About six weeks. Took that long last time one of mine was broken anyway.”

“Fuck!” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. Wren was suddenly very, very anxious, six weeks was too long, and Cain was clearly unhappy. He’d finally been getting him in a good mood and just like that it was gone. “You’re going to be down for six weeks, do you fucking know how long that is?!” He snapped, and Wren flinched back, biting his lip as he wasn’t sure Cain wanted an answer or not.

“It’s not his fucking fault, shit happens when you’re forced to fight.” Zander said, glaring at him.

“Well now he’s useless, fucking useless for six weeks!” He raised his hand as if he was going to hit him, but Zander abruptly grabbed Wren’s arm, yanking him closer and away from Cain. The movement further disturbed his ribs and he squeezed his eyes shut, whining and pain.

“Leave him alone.” Zander said, voice low and steady.

“Oh, so you’d like to be a guard dog now, mutt?” Cain sneered. “Since when do you get off on telling me what to do?”

“Just, listen, please… sir…” he sighed. “I’ll do it, while he’s recovering I’ll fight so you can get your entertainment in and he can be left alone.”

“No- really I’m fine I-“

“You’re not fine, your ribs are fucking broken.” Zander hissed at him, and he quickly shut his mouth.

“Why should I even let you fight?” Cain rose an eyebrow. “You’ve been nothing but fucking useless too, I’m not going to tolerate any more fuck ups from you- one more time and I might finally let Vanessa have you for a lap dog.” Wren couldn’t ignore how Zander went tense at the threat, grip on his arm somewhat tighter.

“I… I promise if you let me do this, I’ll win. I swear it, just, let me try, please?” Cain seemed to think it over for a moment before sighing.

“Fine. Only because you know how fucking bored I get when you’re out of commission.” He said, and Zander visibly relaxed. “But,” Cain added, grabbing Wren by the hair and pulling him to his feet, “If you lose, then the little pup is going to have to take the punishment, understand?”

“What?! But he’s supposed to be getting better, you can’t-“

“Of course I can.” He grinned. “You seem to keep forgetting, Zander, I fucking own you. Both of you. I can, and will do whatever I fucking want, understand?” Zander scowled, glancing away.

“Yes sir.” He said through gritted teeth.

“There’s a good dog.” He said, causing Zander to glare at him. “For the pup’s sake, I sure do hope you win your next fight.”

Wren couldn’t help but hope desperately for that as well.

***

It felt like it had been a while since he’d last been here, locked up in a cell trying to calm down enough to fight. Cain’s threat about Wren was making him more and more anxious but he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t afford to be anxious or nervous right now. He distracted himself by slowly pulling out his earrings, one by one, laying them on the cell floor. He’d learned early on it wasn’t good to leave them in, he already had one torn ear and he didn’t want it to happen again.

There was something unfortunately natural about being led into the ring. Even after a short break, even after several losses, it almost felt routine, were it not for Wren’s well being being used as a threat he probably wouldn’t have even been scared or nervous. He /knew/ what to do, had figured it out after his first couple fights.

As long as he stopped thinking like a person, stopped thinking of his opponent as a person, stopped thinking in general he would be fine. Focus on surviving no matter what he had to do to make sure that happened, fight dirty and vicious and desperate and he would be fine. It’s not like he was the only one, he’d come out of these things having been clawed at and bitten, and honestly, he never held it against his opponent. Just like him they wanted to survive, wanted to avoid their handler’s wrath, he couldn’t fault them for that.

He had promised Cain that he wouldn’t lose, really it was more of a promise to Wren, he was the one in actual danger here, but he was going to stick with it. He was taller than his opponent, the other man clearly was fed even less than he was, his owner must’ve been a dumb ass to think he was fit to fight.

He’d feel guilty later for thinking about how easy this should be, listening to the announcer count down from five, he knew that right now he needed to stop thinking at all, as the announcer reached “one” he focused on getting this man on the ground and getting the hell out of there.

He tuned out all the noise around him, forced himself to forget about Cain’s threat for the time being, and instead focused on getting his hands around this guy’s throat. Sometime later he could be horrified at how easy it was, about how he had no qualms about fighting to get a hold on him, about hitting him hard enough to stun him, grab him by the hair and roughly force him to the ground. He could be horrified about how easy it was to break someone’s rib if you stomped hard enough just enough times, and how it relieved him to feel the bone give, to hear the poor man scream in pain, and how he didn’t stop because he had him on the ground and he needed to just stay for ten seconds, and then this would be over.

All he ever wanted was for it to be over quickly.

That level of cheering meant it was over, meant he could step back, get off the man who was gasping for air, panicked and pained. He hoped he’d be okay, wished he could offer some help or comfort but once the time was called he wasn’t supposed to touch him, people already coming to drag them out. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he escaped this one mostly unscathed, not uncommon for a quick fight. There’s a reason other dogs panicked at the sight of him, but he didn’t really like to think about that. Right now he didn’t really want to think at all though.

He more or less collapsed once he was locked up in that cell again, adrenaline finally leaving him, a wave of exhaustion and relief taking over. He was used to that part too, he was lucky it was already late, a good excuse to crash completely once they returned home. He had won, he wasn’t in any trouble, and most importantly Wren wasn’t in any trouble. He hoped he was doing okay right now, hoped that Vanessa wasn’t harassing him too much. Cain was probably in a good mood, he’d be thrilled when he finally came for Zander, too preoccupied with the rest of the fights for now. He didn’t particularly mind, a brief break sounded amazing right now.

As expected Cain was happy to see him when he finally picked him up- he couldn’t actually remember the last time Cain was happy to see him. It was better than anger though, he was ready to accept this, accept praise and- a reward. He hadn’t even thought about that, about what he could possibly want or need. As of right now, he just wanted to see Wren, the poor kid had been dragged along despite the obvious pain and discomfort. Cain had left him with Vanessa while he came to get him, they returned to Vanessa not so subtly feeling along his ribs, trying to find the broken one, ignoring how he tried to pull away as much as she would let him.

He was relieved to see him, but what he hadn’t expected was the look he gave him, blue eyes wide as soon as Cain brought him over. It was a look he hadn’t seen since Wren had first been bought, he was scared, stepping away when Zander got close. It hurt, he felt it immediately in the pit of his stomach, that sense of dread that just another person feared him. Somehow though, it felt so much worse that it was Wren of all people. Suddenly, he was dreading being locked into a room with him.

“I knew you could still fight!” Cain had laughed on the car ride home. He tried to tune him out but it was hard. “If you could do that all the time, I’d never have had to get Wren!” Zander didn’t like the sound of that, and from the way his eyes widened neither did Wren, the idea he may get rid of him clearly scared them both. Cain didn’t notice though, continuing to ramble on. “I guess you just needed the right motivation, huh? If you keep that up maybe I can start switching you and the pup out, once he recovers anyway.”

He could live with that, taking turns. It at least gave them both a chance to rest, which was certainly more than he’d had before, only given a break once Wren proved to be better. Until then though, he’d have to make sure he was careful, make sure he did better than he ever had before. Wren was already hurt, he couldn’t stand if it got worse because he fucked up.

So long as he fought well, Wren would be fine, and even if he was scared of him after watching that, him being fine was really all that mattered.

#whump #my writing #my oc's #Wren #Zander #Cain #uhhh #fighting #broken ribs #pet whump #dehumanization #I promise there's actual detailed fights planned this just wasn't one of them

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ridiculousyoungicarus · 3 years

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Self Para 002: Cry Me a River TWs: Alcohol, Alcoholism, Alcohol Abuse, GRAPHIC Suicidal Ideation, HIV, Zander is a dick Word Count: 3,247 Setting: From immediately following the Thanksgiving Picnic until after the event has been concluded on Luxor’s Blenheim, New Zealand campus. Notes: If you have NOT looked at the posters previously posted onto this blog, you need to look at those first and then come back to this. Zander’s text thread from the event with Elliot also gets explained in this, as that was going on in the middle of all this crap. Sorry I had to complicate the Luxor Extended Universe this time, folks.

Once the initial shock wore off, the rage settled in. Zander was pacing around his common room, whipping his head to glare at whoever was stupid enough to open the door to the room. Now wasn’t time. He didn’t want to talk. But when he realizes it’s Ches he pauses, “what do you want?”

“To figure out what the fuck is going on with you. You’ve been grouchy all afternoon, more so than normal.” Her movements are cautious as she turns to close the door behind her and slowly walks into the room. “Is it because I made you talk to your brother? Because I swear I was only trying to help.” He had barely remembered she’d done that, it felt like a lifetime ago, but it’d only been a little over a day. Two?

He takes a deep breath, opening his arms to her as he speaks. “I’m not mad at you.” But she doesn’t come to him, and instead opts to settle herself onto his couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I swear it’s got nothing to do with you, stop giving me that look.”

“I’m not giving you a look! I just feel like shit, and maybe fixing your problems will fix me. Okay?” She snaps back at him, and usually he’d pause and try to figure out why she felt so broken, try to take on whatever she was upset about. But, tonight he had bigger priorities and he sat down next to her on the couch, patting her knee a bit awkwardly before he just comes out and says it.

“I found out who gave Balo HIV.”

He wasn’t expecting how defeated his tone would be at the confession, but it made sense. And for a minute he watched Ches try to figure out who it could be. “So it was your dad?” She guesses, after a few moments. Wouldn't that be the better alternative?

He thinks back to his conversation with Claire, the way he’d tried to defend Jack. How he actually hadn’t wanted it to be Jack, for once in his life. After all, why wouldn’t he tell them? He claimed he cared so much about Balo, and in spite of the fact before this he had been starting to trust him when he said it, now Zander called bullshit on that now more than ever. If he cared about Balo, he would have told her the truth. He would have been there for her, supported her instead of just leaving her alone in the dark terrified. No, Jack didn’t care. He never had about anyone, and he never would.

“Jack. His mother told me-” “His mother is dead, Zan. Jack doesn’t like it when people call Claire his mum.”

“Does it matter what Jack likes? Claire told me he said he gave Balo HIV himself, that he’s been lying about his status the entire fucking time. Who knows what the fuck he’s given to Juliet... you’re probably safe, you’ve been on prep but it’s beyond fucked up, he still won’t tell Balo, and according to Claire he won’t.” He groans, leaning back into the couch. He had no idea what to do, how to handle it. “I’ve never hated him more than I do now.”

The girl beside him starts to move, and he raises an eyebrow at her as she goes into his cupboards trying to find something. “God, we might as well be drinking rubbing alcohol but it’ll do.” She huffs, but she still pops the cork on his cooking wine and brings it over, taking a long chug of it before she offers it to him. She seriously couldn’t expect him to drink that crap, right? But as he looks at the bottle, he reaches out to take it from her, taking a long sip of it himself and making a face as he offers it back. “Don’t tell Elliot I’m doing this.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He didn’t see why he’d have any reason to tell, although he doubted Elliot would believe him even if he did. It seemed like assurance enough for the redhead as she takes the bottle back from him and chugs more as she sits down beside him again. Maybe he should be trying to stop her, but he didn’t have a fight with her in him currently. It wasn’t as if he’d win it anyway, he’d tried. She never seemed to cared when someone told her to cut it out. “I don’t know how we’ll get through to Balo, she needs to know.”

“Can you let me get drunk first before we discuss this shit?” She groans. Was her alcohol really more important than Balo? He raises an eyebrow at her as he stares at her, and after a few moments she sets the bottle of wine down next to her. “Nothing sends a message better than revenge? I don’t know, Zan. I can barely handle my own shit lately. If I could put posters up all over the school telling everyone but you, Elli, Sky, and Balo to leave me the fuck alone until after I’m dead, I would.”

“Ches, if you’re not going to help me, go cry to Elliot. I can’t handle your shit right now either.” Zander reaches over to his cooking wine and steals another sip before he sets it back down. The wine really was awful. Why were they doing this to themselves again?

Still, she reaches out to grab the bottle again, cradling it close to her chest as she gives him a dirty look. “You can have it when I’m done, it’s my turn.” She hisses, “did you talk to Jack about this yet?”

“He doesn’t give a fuck, Ches. I don’t think he’ll ever tell her.” He explains as he reaches out to take the bottle from her. Maybe it wasn’t fair to withhold the fact he hadn’t even tried, but Jack had months to tell. If he could lie straight to everyone’s faces in the aftermath, it was easy to assume he wouldn’t ever care enough to tell the truth. And he knows the look on her face as she continues to hold onto the wine bottle, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and moves away from him to keep him from taking it. The way the rage sparked up in her eyes, an expression that usually even made him step back in fear. But for once, the intense flash of anger was welcome. He needed it.

“I said it’s mine! I want it!” She snaps, darting out of his grasp with it in the direction of his dining table. “You really want to force him to do something? Take away his choices. And if you want to use his tactics against him, you need to make sure they’re not absolutely pathetic like Windsor’s posters were. I wanted to blow my brains out looking at them. Not like it’s hard to feel that way around here, most days I want to.” There’s something off about her tone, her words, and for a brief moment he questions if he should actually be pushing this currently at all. She clearly wasn’t okay, but neither was Balo and he supposed this once, maybe it’d be okay to be selfish. “You need to go in hard and quick. If you over complicate it, nobody gives a fuck. The more minimal they are, the better. So, you don’t want to aim too low, you don’t want the mob trying to kill you but...”

“I don’t give a fuck about the mob, Ches. He needs to pay for this.” Zander corrects her. Did it matter if people hated them? They were doing the right thing. Nobody else could get hurt like Balo had been if they told. Maybe Juliet would be okay? Sure, she’d hate him, but what Jack has done was inexcusable.

“You should be afraid. Everyone’s going to hate us if we actually do this.” “If they hate us for going after Jack, good riddance. Please, Ches.”

He watches her reaction to his words, the conflict on her face as she considers her options. She takes a long drink, tilting the bottle up high if she was trying to get as much alcohol as she could inside of her at once without choking in the process. “Fine, I’ll help with your fucking revenge scheme if you let me keep the wine.” She growls. He nods in agreement, holding his hands up in a peace offering as he slowly approaches her. After what felt like ages of watching his every move, she finally speaks again, “get your laptop. We have work to do.”

—-

Ches had fallen asleep over an hour ago, in the middle of talking, but by that point her suggestions had been barely coherent anyway. He’d already picked her up and moved her to his bed after finishing the last of the posters. And despite her protests at being woken up in the process, he just propped her up on her side, tucked her in, and waited for her to go back to sleep. Once she had, he went back to the common room to grab his laptop. For the most part his attention had shifted, revenge was well on its way and now he had time to worry about her. Balo might have contributed to it but she hadn’t been what set Ches off. She’d already been spiraling the minute she’d walked in his door. He saw that clearer now more than ever.

He glances away from the girl to take a glance at the test run of posters he’d printed. For a moment, as he reads what they’d written, he hesitates. How hadn’t he noticed they included Balo’s name in a hashtag? Perhaps he’d been too busy trying to translate what seemed to be a mix of French and slurred gibberish to think about it. It’d be easy to fix, he supposed. Simply replacing the hashtag with another resource link like Ches had suggested for each of the posters. But, he didn’t want to. Wouldn't it be better if everyone knew it was Balo who’d be affected? The ray of light everyone had watched get extinguished over the past few months. He hesitates, only a moment longer, before he goes back to his laptop to hit print on the run of them.

He sighs before going back to watching the body in his bed. Hyper focused to make sure her skin wasn’t changing colors, and her breathing hadn’t shifted. God, he really should have stopped her, or at least tried to limit her. He should to tell Elliot, right? If their roles were reversed he’d want to be told. Maybe Ches would be pissed off later, but, he didn’t know what else to do. He’d fucked up, he let her keep the bottle in exchange for her help with these posters. She had every right to be mad at him for it too.

[To Elliot:] Hey, I know you don’t want to talk about Ches with me but I’m really fucking concerned right now. She showed up on my doorstep drunk, and I’ve seen her in pretty rough shape before but this is the worst I’ve ever seen her ever. I’m keeping an eye on her atm but I thought you’d want to know [To Elliot:] Do you want me to bring her to you? She’s out of it but she wakes up if you poke at her. [To Elliot:] I think it’s Leo related? I dunno, she was too busy rambling about wanting to steal you stars to tell me what was wrong before she dozed off 😖

Maybe pinning it on Leo was fucked up too, but, if he had to guess what else was going on, wasn’t that the easiest guess? It was that or Cade. He had seen her step brother stumbling a lot during the picnic, obviously already back to using not even a full week after leaving rehab. Whatever it was, if Elliot wanted to deal with this he’d let him. If not, he’d have to multi-task. As he waits for a response he pulls out the map of the school, trying to think of where the best places to put posters would be on this campus.

The more people who saw them, the better.

After all the parents left Luxor, he’d slip one of them under Jack’s door. Warn him of the storm that was coming under the guise of giving him a chance to amend things just to see what’d happen. As he waits to see if his phone goes off, he reaches over for a sticky note to scrawl a message on.

Figured I should give you a heads up. I did tell Claire that if you wouldn’t tell her, I would. What do you think? Pretty, right?

Perhaps he should make a version of a poster without Ches’s name attached for this. He glances over to the sleeping girl again, no, she definitely wouldn’t be in the state for Jack’s crap tomorrow. The longer he could keep her out of this, the better. Neither of them would have peace in the end, but, at least she could keep hers a tiny bit longer.

—-

[From Chessie ☀️:] I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU [From Chessie ☀️:] ELLIOT DID NOT NEED TO KNOW LIKE THAT [From Chessie ☀️:] WHAT THE FUCK, ALEKZANDER?

Zander had been helping to pack up the book club’s table when her texts came in, and he ignored them momentarily to continue trying to clean up their booth for the fair. Even when his phone goes off again and again, probably berating him about leaving her on read with his receipts on, she needed to wait a few minutes. He was a bit too busy for this, he needed to get this cleaned up quickly so he could sneak the warning under Jack’s door.

[From Chessie ☀️:] You do not just get to leave me on read [From Chessie ☀️:] Did it ever occur to you I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO DECIDE WHAT I TELL MY BOYFRIEND [From Chessie ☀️:] I was going to tell him, you had no right [From Chessie ☀️:] I’m so pissed off at you, Zan, I stg. Not cool.

He groans as he reads her messages, this time opting to send back a quick, fast reply in hopes it’d get her out of his hair until he has time for her shit.

[To Ches:] Cleaning up club fair, text you when I’m done. Sorry, didn’t think you’d tell him shit and you scared me [To Ches:] Can you wait to yell at me til you see me later? We need to discuss Jack’s posters.

And as his phone starts to go off again, he puts it on silent and gets back to work. He’d deal with her later. Right now, he had way bigger fish to fry waiting on him. She wasn’t on the priority list, not today.

—-

He should have expected Ches to be waiting for him, but as he enters his room, he still jumps when he sees someone sitting on his bed glaring at him. “I was concerned.” He defends himself, immediately, as he sits down at his desk.

“Why did you lie about it being your wine?”

Was she really going to immediately start in on that? He didn’t see why it was a big deal, he’d been protecting her. Both of them, actually. What did she think would have happened if he told Elliot the truth? He’d spared them both a headache. At least, he thought he had until she started blowing up his phone. “I didn’t want to deal with the lecture while finishing up our posters. Plus, did you want to tell him why?” He moves to hand her one of each poster, and she groans as she reads them. What was wrong? He thought she wanted minimalism.

“We included our names? Fuck. I’m so getting dumped.” She throws herself back onto the bed, tossing it to the side. “At least we’ll both be on Elliot’s shit list. I told him the truth, you know. I’m not about to start lying about what I’m doing, or where I’ve been, to him. I love him, Zan.”

“So you told him about the posters?” That gets his attention. How much had she told? Was she trying to ruin everything they’d worked for? Finally, they were going to be able to get back at Jack for everything he had done. Every time he made their lives hell, and she was willing to throw it away.

But as she starts to answer his question, his concerns dissipate. “Of course not. I was hoping to stay unassociated with this shit, I didn’t tell him about Balo either before you get on my ass about that too. Can’t we just reprint them without our names to avoid the attention?”

“No. They’re staying as is.” “And Jack still hasn’t told her?” “He’s not going to tell her, Ches.”

“Fine.” She sounds so defeated, deflating into a heap on his bed with the word. “I can’t believe you fucking lied to Elliot, so I had to deal with how disappointed he is in me and go directly against what you said.”

“Did he believe you?”

The way she gets up and storms out of the room was more than enough of an answer for him. She was offended, which meant either he hadn’t or that Ches was annoyed he even had to ask. Either way, as much as her being angry usually bothered him, he didn’t have time to care currently. He grabs the keys to his rental car before he takes one last glance at the posters ready to go on his dresser. He needed tape, an abundance of it.

After all, he had a lot of posters to hang later.

—-

They hang the posters the next morning in silence. On occasion, he’d glance over to her to watch how seemingly robotic her motions were, and every time the guilt got to him as soon as he looked. The show had to go on, she knew that better than anyone. But as he hangs the last of his posters, his phone buzzes. He waits until he’s done to read the text message, realizing within seconds she’d sent it out to everyone. “Fuck.”

[From Chessie ☀️:] I’m sorry about the posters around the school today. I don’t want to get into my involvement, because frankly the details don’t fucking matter. The damage has been done, it was taken way too far, and I wish I never helped at all. My intentions don’t matter, nor do the events leading up to it. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. Just, remember if you’re a dick about anyone’s HIV status you’re an even worse person than Jack was in this situation. I expect a lot of you will be angry, rightfully so, but please leave Balo out of this. She had no idea about any of this.

He groans, of course she was going to try to distance herself from this. Anything to keep her precious Elliot on her side, right? He makes a face, quickly sending out his own mass text.

[To All Luxor Students:] If you have an issue with those posters and your name isn’t Balian Grace Driskell, cry me a river. Balo, call me.

#alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #alcohol abuse tw #suicide tw #HIV tw #no chains won't hold me down ( musings )#make no mistake i live in a prison that i built myself ( self paras )#yeah that's not who we are; we are not beautiful ( ches | balo )#suicide attempt tw #better safe than sorry y'all #debated waiting decided to not

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fisheoctrashdump · 3 years

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Me, looking at everything you tagged for the virginity post: 🥺👉👈

Arvid and Izan: it was like summer between sophomore and junior year and Izan was staying over at Arvid's place and like,,, it just kinda happened neither of them had really thought about having sex with each other anytime soon lol

Alora and Galatea: been thinking about this more ever since I wrote that and I feel like Alora would be 21. Alora initiates but loses her confidence before she gets too far and she like, stops kissing Galatea and looks super embarrassed and laughs awkwardly and says "I don't really know what I'm doing" but idk how it goes after that lol

Scarlette and Kaya: despite Kaya being a horny bitch, I feel like she would be sure to respect Scarlette's boundaries until Scarlette feels ready. They would be playing around with each other until Kaya accidentally takes things too far. She backs off immediately and apologizes, but Scarlette just goes for it lol of course, Kaya kinda leads things after Scarlette starts

Blezbian and Arianna: they knew exactly what they were doing lol Arianna and Blezbian were talking about what their first time together would be like, and then like two days later Arianna asks Blezbian to come over. She sneaks into Arianna's room and they talk quietly before either of them get the confidence to actually start

Razi and Zeron: no more ideas about this honestly when they do really depends on when they get together and when Zeron feels ready because Razi's bitch ass won't try anything even if his life depended on it

Harrison: I've thought about maybe Harrison lost his virginity to Kat, but like. Idk. My whole thing is, I really hope they don't get into a relationship until Harrison is older because he needs to mature a lot, otherwise their relationship will crash and burn really early because of how pushy Harrison is currently. Harrison is always gonna be really weird and horny though, so rip kat

Kiyan and Lillie: THE FUCKING ICP BOBBLEHEADS I FUCKING CANT RN ALSKFJADKFK okay uh. So they will end up getting together not too long after story events actually. I don't imagine Lillie would feel ready to have sex again for a long time, and for Kiyan he just doesn't really think about that kinda thing. I've been imagining him having pretty low libido. Eventually they do have sex, I just like. Hadn't thought about how that went UNTIL YOU GAVE ME THAT HEADCANON RIP LILLIE

Adrien Jr and Devon: uhhhh so yeah I still haven't thought much about they ;_; I can say some stuff about Devon, though. She lost her virginity to someone who goes to her church, and when she finally told her mother about it, she basically told Devon she was lying about it and if it did actually happen, it was her fault. She also introduced the anti masturbation cross to her because again, she believed Devon was to blame for something like that and she had to prevent her from being Impure, especially around all her church buddies so there's all that.

Curtis and Zander: curtis has had feelings for Zander for a long ass time and after he was finally able to come home, he did confess to Zander. I haven't thought about their first time too much cause Curtis is still not as developed as I would like, but I have been getting a few more ideas for him lately owo

#hnmp gen2 #stopped dawson's character sheet for this wtf lol

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songsofacagedbird · 3 years

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Self Para 002: I'm Feeling Helpless; the Damsels Are Depressed

Note: Okay so my version of self care is hurting my muses’, so I wrote this during all my kidney stuff as a way to like kinda get my mind off of it I debated if I should post this because it really was just self indulgent but since it’s set in Luxor AU and one thing mentioned it is gonna come up later on, I’ll share. (Although this isn’t required reading to understand Balo (or Ches’s) character arcs in the slightest so please don’t feel any pressure, when the thing comes up you don’t need this context).

Word Count: 2,498

TWs: Abuse (referenced), HIV, Mental Health Struggles, Disownment, Ches’s horrible sense of humor

Sunlight poured through the windows of the study hall as Balo quietly sketched. She’d given up trying to get actual work done an hour ago; learning wasn’t happening - she was thinking way too much. While she knew it was important to stay focused - if her grades slipped, she’d no longer be allowed to participate in the sports she’d worked so hard to be allowed back into - it was hard sometimes. How could she pretend everything was okay a little over a month after her world fell apart? She knew she was expected to have it together, but things kept slipping through the cracks.

Sometimes Balo questioned what would have happened if she hadn’t synced her medications with Ches. By the time she’d whispered her diagnosis to her, the puzzle pieces had already been in place. The unspoken knowledge hanging the air until she had simply cleared it out. What would have happened if she hadn’t gone to the college freshman in hopes it’d help her to remember her medications back during the initial testing phase? Would she have even figured it out?

The longer she thought about it, the more she leaned towards yes.

How long would it be until everyone else caught on to exactly what was wrong with her? Her ability to pretend like everything was sunshine and rainbows had needed to be put on hold. Her insecurities shined through even more than usual in its place. How long would it be until Caitriona tired of her, or till Jack remembered he’d had better friends and phased her out? Would it be weeks or months until her siblings followed their parents’ lead and disassociated themselves from her too? And what would the rest of the Hundred Acre Woods chat say as they finally figured out that even her own parents didn’t even want her anymore? That she’d been so bad they needed to turn their backs on her. Had her mother found out about the fact she’d swore? Was it her karma for feeling the one emotion she’d been taught would make her a horrible person?

It only took one thought to get thrown back in the spiral, currents of fear dragging her under. She’d known she’d never be enough for her father, of course. She was too soft, too artistic, too dumb, or shamed for her knowledge, and she messed up consistently. Everything he despised, with the list of reasons growing ever longer as the days went on.

As the tears start to roll down her cheeks, Balo rapidly shuts her sketchbook so she can stuff it into her bag. Had anyone in the study hall noticed the shape she was in? She wasn’t sticking around to find out. The sooner she left, the better. She barely keeps herself from running through the study hall, and she only picks up her pace once she enters the crowded halls. The faces blur together as she rushes towards her room, any attempts to slow her down easily ignored as she focuses on just getting to her destination.

Once she’s in the common room, she tries her best to muffle her sniffles, unlocking her door as quietly as she can manage without disturbing her roommate. The last thing she needed was Jenevieve to see her like this. They weren’t close, and she couldn’t put on an act, not today, when she was back in the rabbit hole.

She shuts her door quietly, not even bothering to lock it as she drops her bag on her floor next to her desk. The tears are in full force by the time she sits down, and she pulls out her sketchbook again. She doesn’t have to wait long before an idea pops in her head, and she’s grabbing her charcoals from the drawer to get started. She doesn’t look up as she pours her emotions into the page; even as the sun begins to set, her blue eyes are fixated on the page as her charcoal moves across it.

It isn’t until her bedroom door creaks open does she glance away, her head whipping around to see who was disturbing her. She only starts to relax when she sees it’s Ches, although her relief is short-lived as her friend turns on her bedroom light and settles down on her bed. “You skipped dinner again. Are you feeling okay?”

“I wasn’t hungry.” Balo responds immediately, “I appreciate you checking on me, of course, but I’m okay! Perfect, actually! I’ve never ever been better, ever. I’m just working on a project. It’s just taking up a lot of time, I’m great!” It’s a lie, one she knows her friend will pick up on as soon as it leaves her mouth. Maybe she needed better lines, prettier words to distract from just how awful she felt. She doesn’t even have to watch Ches’s expression to know she knew better, and as the guilt creeps up on her for lying, the truth bursts out. “I can’t stop trying to figure out where I went wrong and how long it’ll be until things get worse. I had to do something to deserve everything going on, right? And what if whatever it was was so bad that everyone hates me?”

“B, if you did something that horrible, you’d know what it was. I promise you, fuck ups that big can’t be missed.”

“My parents thought...”

“Your father is a waste of oxygen, and your mother is... well, sometimes things are complicated.” The look on Ches’s face when she discusses Balo’s parents is one of disdain, but she still seemingly makes an effort to censor her opinion of her mother. Undoubtedly another attempt to keep herself from hurting Balo.

The blonde goes back to working on her sketch, not quite sure what to say. Most of her friends had some sort of parental figure to go to if they needed to. Who did she have? Zander, who she didn’t feel like she should go to with her problems because he’d find some way to twist it into Jack’s fault, and Ivan, who had more than enough stuff on his plate without his little sister being added to it. She knew her friends were only trying to help, of course, but hearing she was better off didn’t ease just how much it hurt every time she tried to call her mother, and she didn’t pick up.

For a few minutes, silence settles in. But, just as Balo is finding the lack of discussion comfortable, Ches shatters it. “I know it’s hard to believe that you’re going to be okay, but things are going to get better. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay in the mean-”

The words cause something to snap in her, and she whips around to look at her friend again. “If I don’t pretend I’m okay, everyone will leave. It’s already been a month. Nobody wants to hear me whine, Ches.” She winces at just how loud her voice is, but the girl she shouted at doesn’t seem surprised by the outburst.

“That’s not true; I want to hear it.”

“You want to hear about how tired I am of hearing everyone saying they know how I feel when they can only sympathize? None of you know what it’s like to have HIV and be terrified all the time that you’ll somehow hurt everyone you love because of it. And every time you try to paint it as a good thing, my parents disowned me, it hurts. I can’t call Ivan because he needs to focus on his studies, and Zander is so stressed lately I don’t want to add more to his plate either.” Balo can’t stop the tears of frustration that fall as she talks to Ches. “Do you really want to hear me sulk?”

“Yes, and I think your brothers would also want you to come to them. Zander’s really worried about you, and from what you’ve told me about Ivan, I’m sure it’s killing him he’s not here. It’d kill me if I wasn’t.” The redhead opens her arms, and the gesture is all it takes for her to get up and steal a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been making things worse, Balo.”

“It’s fine.” Despite her frustration, she knew she was only trying to help. It wasn’t her fault Balo didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s not fine, but now I’m aware, I can keep it in mind.” Ches squeezes her tightly, reaching up to try to smooth out Balo’s hair as she talks. “As for making us sick too, you have nothing to worry about. You’re being careful, right? Haven’t been sharing needles with anyone? Not supplying your blood to bathe virgins in or anything?”

“That’s not funny.” Balo knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but she didn’t find it amusing. She was seriously concerned. What if she messed up and she didn’t catch it? She still had no idea how she got HIV, even when she ran through the possibilities in her head. It still didn’t make sense. “I feel like I should tell the rest of the Hundred Acre Woods at least, but I can’t shake the feeling everyone will turn their backs on me too.”

“If you decide to tell the rest of our friends - nobody will go anywhere, not even Avery. We care about you, and frankly, it doesn’t fucking matter as long it’s managed and you’re okay. You being healthy and happy is all that matters. You’re not a walking biohazard or whatever the intrusive thoughts are saying. And if you get hurt, and you’re concerned about it - I’ll handle it. Okay? I’m on PReP, I’ll be fine. But none of us are going anywhere; that’d be like turning your back on someone with cancer - nobody in our friend group is that horrible of a person.”

The lack of sugarcoating in Ches’s words threw her off for a moment. There was no dancing around the point. She’d just said what she was thinking, without hesitation or pause. Finally, after a moment, she starts to protest; “you say that but family is supposed to be unconditional love, and my parents-”

“Your parents aren’t the only family you have. You have your brothers and Fettuccine, you have Caitriona and Jack, and you have us. What happened with your parents is gonna sting like a bitch, but they’re not all you have. You still have a family. Plus, when winter break comes up, we’re going to be fighting over who brings you and Zander home. I was about ready to off Jack when you said you thought you’d be staying with him this summer. I thought I’m supposed to be your parabatai.”

This time there’s no urge to tell Ches she’s not funny, perhaps because this time it’s obvious she’s serious about the fact that no matter what, she still had a place to go. If not with Ivan or Cait, she had one with Ches or Jack. None of them were going to leave her alone, although she hoped they wouldn’t fight over her. That’d be excessive. “You are my parabatai; we just have to wait a year to get tattoos.” Balo can even hear the first hints of a smile in her words as the tears start to slow down.

“Or, if your doctor says you’re good to go, we can do it before we leave France. You’re above the age of 16, it’s legal. I could ask my cousins who they’d recommend. Maybe we could drag your brother along to get that second tattoo he keeps salivating over too?” Ches seems serious about the idea, but before Balo can tell her yes, she’s continuing. “We can discuss that later, though.”

But she didn’t need to wait until later to know she’d be checking to make sure there weren’t any concerns about her getting a tattoo. They’d been discussing it for years, a parabatai rune on one of their pinkies. “I’ll ask at my next appointment.” Balo decides without hesitation, “hopefully, the answer is yes.”

“If it’s not, we’ll get them when the time comes. There’s no rush, we have forever, but you’re not throwing me off that easily. I’m really sorry about your mom, sunshine.” Of course, Ches had to bring it back to the problem at hand; there was no brushing it under the rug and skipping off into the sunset with her. Not with stuff like this, at least.

“I just wish she’d tell me herself she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I knew dad was mad about Caitriona, but I didn’t ever think she’d just... why can’t she just answer the phone?” The words are little more than a sob as she brings herself down to her knees and clings to her friend tighter. “Why doesn’t she want me anymore?”

“I’m sorry.” For the first time in years, Ches seems at a loss for words as she runs her fingers through her blonde hair. There are no attempts at a joke, no moment of insight to follow up with, and at the realization, she can’t help but cry harder again.

It’s not surprising when her friend opens her mouth again, You Are My Sunshine comes out instead of words. As she sings, Balo tries to focus on it instead of the thoughts swirling around in her head again. The further into the song she gets, the more she starts to relax.

Finally, when the song is done, she says the first thing on her mind. “Can I sleepover at yours tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course. Come on, I’ll make you dinner, and we can watch Disney movies. I’ll even let you make me watch Snow White if you’d like. I just lost my roommate, so there’s nobody to mind.”

At Ches’s words, she pulls away, nodding at the reassurance that she wouldn’t be disturbing anyone. After she stands up, she packs her sketchbook, her toothbrush, and a change of clothes into her bag. For a moment, she hesitates before she grabs the stuffed animals, her droid, and the doll on her dresser - hoping Ches wouldn’t mind her bringing them along. “I heard someone had all their stuff destroyed by the circle once, and I’d feel better if I didn’t leave them alone overnight just in case.”

“They can sleep on my dresser tonight, I don’t mind.” Ches shrugs as she offers Balo her hand. She reaches out to grasp it quickly, following her friend when she leads her out of the room and locking the door on her way out.

Maybe things weren’t okay yet, and it’d probably be a while until they were, but the more she leaned on her friends - the more she realized maybe she didn’t have to have it all together yet. She’d get there eventually, but, until then, they weren’t going anywhere. Maybe her parents didn’t want her, but they did.

And at that moment, that was enough.

#i mean tbh i know it's hard to believe but I hold back the majority of the intermuse content I DO try #i legit was never going to post this #but I had three people screaming in my ear about loving my intermuse dynamics #and these two ARE the faves like fuck Ches/Zander and Balo/Zander - Balo/Ches is the crown jewel SO #( I love the entire core 4's who am I kidding )#a dream is a wish your heart makes ( musings )#do you remember when we learned how to fly? | ches & zander #guys I'm not tagging Ches's sense of humor that was a bad joke XD #abuse tw #hiv tw #mental illness tw #disownment tw #but tell me when will my life begin? ( self paras )

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im-not-corrupted · 4 years

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Safi, No (a Witchlands fanfiction) - Chapter One

This chapter was written by @un-empressed

Summary:

On a rare occasion, Safi knew the answer in geography class. But when Merik Nihar spoke over her, she wasn't so happy. So her and Leopold devised a revenge plan to get back at him, and accidentally got everyone involved.

Vivia Nihar doesn't really have many friends, apart from Vaness. She's mostly focused on her studies - and what's wrong with that? But then she meets theriverstix online.

Aeduan and Iseult didn't mean to get involved in the revenge plan, but it was inevitable. But that's okay. They had each other to talk to.

Also posted on Ao3

Tags: @Iseultdetmidenzi

---

Safiya fon Hasstrel didn't know what she had done to deserve such maltreatment. Not only was geography a disaster that morning, her best friend wasn't listening. Or rather, she was until she realised what Safi was talking about. Apparently she was immature for wanting the basic right of speaking. It wasn't her fault that she had an insufferable classmate, and it certainly wasn't her fault that he decided he could speak over her.

It wasn't like she enjoyed geography, but she actually knew the answer. That was a once in a million years occurrence and Merik Nihar ruined it. She didn't even know his name before he so rudely interrupted her.

She wouldn't even have bothered to ask someone - asshole from third row worked just as well for a name - but she was confronted by another classmate after geography. A very pissed off one at that. Safi knew Vaness by name, because everyone knew Vaness. They'd never talked before, though, so Safi didn't know what to expect.

She was definitely surprised when Vaness verbally attacked her. Well, it wasn't an attack, but what she said was just a pretentious way to say "Go fuck yourself" and they both knew it. Apparently Safi's huffing and whispering to her friends that she was going to kill Merik over "an idiotic thing that doesn't even matter" was making it hard for Vaness to take notes. And apparently calling her a "poor dear" was "condescending" and "rude".

Why had she never talked to Vaness before? She knew now. Caden laughed to her face after having overheard the disastrous conversation. Safi found that absolutely unnecessary. At least Zander and Lev laughed at her behind her back. Well, she didn't know for sure that they did, but she hoped that Levs's so-called reassurance of "I've hidden many bodies before, nobody ever misses the ones like him" was a joke.

"Saf, I'm sure he didn't mean to inconvenience you," Iz said, trying to be reasonable. Safi liked that about her best friend; she wasn't as reckless as Safi herself, but she was definitely easy to drag along to stupid adventures.

"You don't know him."

Iseult rolled her eyes. "Neither do you."

"Irrelevant."

Iseult sighed. She was about to say something else, probably about how it was actually relevant, but Corlant came. Safi wasn't sure what his deal was, only that someone ought to push him off that table he liked standing on to feel better than everyone else. But no, the school encouraged free speech, and Corlant claimed whatever absurd shit he said (Safi didn't bother enough to listen) had something to do with his religion.

Safi didn't know who or what he worshipped, but she personally found lunches without him causing a scene holy. Maybe she should start a religion that specifically opposed him. Or maybe she should take Lev up on that hiding a body offer.

"This is ridiculous," Iseult muttered. Safi personally would have yelled it so he could hear, but she already did and he didn't seem to care. Asshole.

Safi didn't even notice Leopold approaching their table until he sat down. And, he wasn't alone. "Girls, this is Aeduan. Aeduan, Safi and Iseult".

The name didn't sound familiar at all, but Safi had talked to the guy once. Well, it was barely a conversation. She asked for a pencil, and he spent five minutes mocking her for not bringing two. Just when she was about to tell him to fuck off, he handed her the damn pencil. Safi made a point of using it only when she lost the pencil Caden had lent her.

She never even returned the pencil. Maybe that made her an asshole, but she needed something to write with for the rest of the day, and he never even asked for it. How was she supposed to know it wasn't meant to be a gift?

Aeduan uttered out an uninterested greeting, hesitantly sitting next to Iseult. They shared commiserating looks as Safi told Leopold about her encounter with the world's biggest asshole that morning.

"Look! There he is, talking to his friends. I bet they're just as rude and inconsiderate-"

"Saf, those two literally mean the same thing," Iseult said. There was a slight difference, but Safi wasn't about to say that. Leopold was willing to hear her complaints, and she wasn't about to waste the potential this conversation had.

"And besides, you're overreacting. That's Ryber Fortiza over there, and she's pretty nice. I'm willing to bet the others are too. You took this way too personally."

Safi had talked to Ryber Fortiza once or twice, and she knew that Iseult was right. She wasn't going to say that out loud, though. Judging by the look on Iseult's face, her best friend didn't care at all. She went back to her probably dry conversation with Leopold's friend.

"Way too personally? It is personal!" Leopold said. Safi was glad that at least someone knew she wasn't overreacting.

"Thank you!"

Iseult rolled her eyes. She did it so much around the two, Safi wouldn't be surprised if her eyes fell out one day. And she had yet to hear about what Vaness said, even though Safi knew Iseult would agree with most things said.

Suddenly, she remembered something that made her groan. Leopold raised his eyebrows. "I have geography again tomorrow."

Leopold grinned. "Why the disappointment? It's your chance to get revenge."

Safi quite liked how that sounded. Even more than that she liked the fact that Iseult obviously didn't approve of the idea, if her face was to be trusted. She could've been making faces at what Aeduan was telling her, but that didn't seem likely. Leopold's friend seemed to have the same opinion. All the more reasons to do it.

Besides, Safi already had a few suggestions for the revenge plan herself.

Safi smiled, making Iseult shake her head. "What did you have in mind?" [x]

"-And she kept staring at me the whole time, whispering something to her friends. I'm telling you, that girl is insane."

The story didn't get reactions Merik Nihar was hoping for from his friends. Ryber pretended she didn't even hear him, and Cam just rolled his eyes. Merik was pretty sure Tanzi wasn't even listening. That didn't hurt him, because she was Ryber's friend. Stix was asking if 'he was done yet' after every word. That didn't hurt either, because she was like that. At least Kullen was on his side.

He smiled, and Merik didn't know what to expect from his best friend. Kullen often heard what he wanted to hear instead of what was being said. "Maybe she likes you! And, you've never talked about this girl before. Why would you even look at her if you didn't like her?"

Kullen was not on his side.

"It wasn't like that!" Merik said, trying desperately to seem like he was telling the truth. Which he was, of course. Kullen just caught him completely unaware.

Stix grinned. "Oh really?" Merik knew she didn't share Kullen's delusion. She just took every single chance to make him uncomfortable.

Cam and Ryber looked at each other across the table, seemingly not surprised at all that the conversation was taking that turn. Tanzi was too busy copying Ryber's homework to listen.

"Really! The teacher called on her and I knew the answer, so I might have possibly answered instead of her. I wanted to see her reaction but she was just glaring at me and I'm pretty sure I heard her friend say something about hiding a body." Merik realised that the story in its entirety made him look the slightest bit bad, but being perceived as rude was better than Kullen getting ideas.

"Can we blame them, though?" Stix asked. She just raised her hands in mock surrender when Ryber shot her a look. "I'm just saying."

"You did speak over her," Cam reasoned.

Ryber sighed. "That really was rude. No one likes people who do that."

Merik was willing to admit that it wasn't his best moment, but it was really not that big of a deal. Sure, his classmate might be pissed for a while, but that wasn't his problem. His only problem was Kullen, who was grinning at him from across the table.

"You could still like her. Maybe you inconvenienced her just so she would talk to you - that seems like the kind of 'I'm bad at admitting my feelings' thing you would do and call flirting if it succeeded," Kullen said, making Stix laugh.

Well, now Merik was offended. He did nothing to deserve the unjust treatment. Even Ryber was against him, and she rarely cared enough to pick a side. Merik needed to start hanging out with Tanzi; She never listened to him, which meant she couldn't mock him for every single thing like the traitors he once called friends.

Besides, Vivia insulting him 24/7 was enough. He didn't need his friends and his sister to have anything in common. He wasn't sure anyone except Kullen even knew he had a sister. Good.

Vivia preferred solitude, but Merik knew that if Ryber found out, she'd make him ask her to join them. That would likely result in either of the three catastrophes he'd rather avoid:

1. Vivia thinks he's making fun of her for eating alone and yells at him.

2. Very awkward lunches because Vivia yelled at him when he didn't tell her what time it was fast enough.

3. Vivia finds out about Kullen's theory and tells the girl.

The last one might have been a bit of a far stretch if it was anyone else. Vivia, however, wanted nothing more than to ruin her brother's life. The amount of love was mutual.

And, she was definitely the kind of person capable of figuring out someone's name and all social media usernames just from a vague description. Merik dreaded of the day Kullen and Vivia talked alone, without him there to filter his best friend. That would be a disaster. For him, that is. For Vivia, it would be a way to accomplish her mission in life.

"Ryber, control your boyfriend," Merik said.

Ryber just rolled her eyes, which Merik found rather rude. It wasn't like he was the one terrorising Kullen, it was the other way around!

"Look, it's not Ry's fault you were stupid enough to mention it to Kullen of all people," Stix said. Merik didn't know if that was supposed to be an insult to him or to Kullen.

"Mention what? I'm not in love with some girl whose name I don't even know!"

Stix sighed. "You don't have to be for Kullen to think you are. You should know that by now. He only sees what he wants to see." Cam nodded in agreement.

"Look, are you on my side or are you not?"

"I'm not necessarily on your side, I'm just not on Merik's." Kullen nodded, as if that was a completely reasonable answer.

Merik blamed his trust issues on his friend group, which consisted of Kullen, Cam, Stix, Ryber and occasionally Tanzi. All people who tolerated him but didn't dread to tell him when he did or said something stupid. Except Stix, but Merik doubted that she actually hated him. Either way, she, too, was never going to meet Vivia if Merik was to ask. He usually wasn't when it came to his sister and what she did, but he had to hope that Vivia wouldn't want to do anything with a friend of his.

"That's ridiculous. You hate me for no reason."

"Ridiculous? That's it, you've lost your Stix privileges. It's Stacia for you from now on." Merik fought the urge to tell her that what she just said was ridiculous as well. People lost their 'Stix privileges' at least three times a day.

Ryber rolled her eyes, silently listening to the exchange. She occasionally whispered something to Tanzi, who was still doing her homework.

"Thank you very much for doing as I said and controlling your boyfriend," Merik said. He was getting fed up of everyone being against him for a simple mistake.

"You're welcome," Ryber said, turning to help Tanzi read something. Even Ryber, who was usually the responsible one, was seemingly tired of him. Merik was starting to think he had done something wrong.

Kullen probably noticed that Merik wasn't fighting back, because he sighed and said: "Look, Merik, we're only making fun of you because you don't see that what you did was wrong. Just... Try to be nicer to the geography classmate."

It seemed nice enough, and, even though Merik hated to admit it, it was good advice. But Kullen wasn't done. "And then, when you're a couple, Stix and I will pretend we're your siblings and tell her made-up, embarrassing information."

Ryber took one look at the three of them and sighed. "That might not work."

"Cousins, then."

Ryber rolled her eyes. "That still won't work. Just say you're his friends."

"But no one ever takes the friends seriously!" Stix whined.

"No one should take the two of you seriously."

"Bold of you to assume they won't make all of us do it," Cam said.

"See? Cam gets it!"

Sometimes Merik really hated his friends.

------

Read Chapter Two here

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adelaiderhosynweasley · 4 years

Text

The Founding

Adelaide sighed, her back leaned up against the wooden wall of the lovely chicken coop she spent a good deal of time around and in during her time at Hogwarts. She had brought Nugget outside, for some playtime with the other hens who always flocked to see her, excited to see their friend, while Adelaide tried to get some of her homework done. She wasn’t having a very good time of it to be honest, easily distracted by her surroundings as her mind wandered away from her school and note books. The wind played at her hair, pulled back in two braids again today, her eyes shut as she let the sun fall gently on her face. Classes were over for the afternoon and there was just enough daylight left to enjoy the nice weather before she’d have to take Nugget back inside for dinner. She picked at some of the grass by her bottom, pulling it apart and getting it all over her papers until a quill was tapping at her page.

“Adelaide, fooooocus.” Sunny, her fellow Gryffindor and best friend prompted, trying to get her to keep at her homework. Sunny was better at getting things done, usually having to drag Adelaide around and help her with her own answers when she’d pushed her work off too long again. Sunny did her best, but it didn’t always work, and the brunette still tended to miss assignments enough that her teachers would occasionally hold her after class to discuss why she’d not managed to finish it. There had been conferences with her parents, suggestions for extra tutoring sessions, but Adelaide insisted she’d do better. Just let her try for one more term before they made her sit with a tutor. She doubted it would help anyway, especially if she couldn’t even get her work done with Sunny right there pushing her to do so.

“Mmm?” Adelaide looked up, dropping the grass and reaching out to pet at Nugget who had come to peck momentarily at her knee. The chicken was soon running off again though, joining her peers in a game of hopping and scratching and digging for bugs. She jumped a little bit, her pocket releasing a little buzz and chime to indicate that she’d just gotten a text message. She dug into her robes, tugging out the little red thing her parents had gotten her when she’d first started school. It looked fairly much like a regular Muggle cell phone, but was different in a lot of ways as well, running purely on magic so that even when Adelaide was at school there was no interference. It was a still a decently new invention actually, having only come out about five years previously, Muggleborns and Halfbloods working together to create it so they could stay in full contact with their children in a way that was much faster than owl post. Most wizarding families still preferred to use owls, but Adelaide had seen others around with phones like hers, though they were only allowed on your person if you weren’t in class.

I love you, Petite Oiseau.

Adelaide stared down at the message from her dad, her heart dropping into her stomach. Sometimes, he’d text her that he loved her, but he never used his nickname for her in combination unless he was going on a mission. She sighed, typing back a quick love you and for him to be safe before she shoved the phone back into her pocket, knowing he might not even get her message until he got back. She hated when her dad went on missions because they could be dangerous. Aurors could get seriously injured or even killed if they weren’t careful, but her dad had been doing it since… well, shortly before she’d been born actually. While Adelaide was quite close with her mother, she was, and always had been, quite the Daddy’s girl. It had been Louis who had figured out how to calm her when she was colicky, who would spend nights holding her in the rocking chair just so she could have the movement she wanted in order to sleep, and who would lay beside her while she was sick, rubbing her back and reading to her. Her mam did all of those things too, but her dad had done them more often, hogging her a bit when she’d been a baby. He’d done the same with Owena, but Rhydian, oh that boy was a different story entirely. While he loved their dad, he was very much, constantly attached to their mam.

“Is he leaving again?” Sunny asked, noticing the look on Adelaide’s face. The brunette nodded, setting her books aside for the moment as her stomach churned. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate while she was worried, at least not until maybe after dinner or tomorrow. The initial thought of her dad heading out to do his job always got to her, but she would calm, as she usually did, and keep moving forward while waiting for him to text her that he was home.

“I hate it.” Adelaide groaned, leaning her head back against the chicken coop. Nugget hopped over, jumping into her lap at the sound of potential distress. She nuzzled at Adelaide but then was quickly distracted again, letting out an excited squawk as she jumped back to the ground and raced off in the direction of a redheaded boy and his friend. Ah. Stonefyre and Zander. Adelaide waved, not disliking them too much anymore. She let Stonefyre play with Nugget more often since he’d helped save her from those older boys, but she still wouldn’t relent on any sleep overs. She needed Nugget with her to pass out at all. It also helped that boy boys were actually quite into musicals, something Adelaide enjoyed herself a great deal. “I have the music from that new show!”

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caffeineivore · 4 years

Text

The Taylor Swift Concert Hijinks

This is dedicated to the lovely @mygeekycorner and @minakosaino and follows the last thing I posted. M/K and a Taylor Swift Concert. Please don’t kill me, Swifties! Rated PG/PG13. Romance/humour.

The corporate office of Ainsley-Hart Holdings, LLC is not exactly her favourite hang-out spot, ever, but Romina Catherine Ainsley-Hart, “Mina” to everyone but her parents, still breezes in as though she has nowhere better to be at half-past four on a Thursday afternoon, carrying a cup-holder from Starbucks bearing no less than four drinks in one hand, a stylish oversized Gucci handbag in buttery red leather in the other. She plops the first one down at the desk of Janet, the formidable office receptionist, with a winning smile. “Grande soy flat white?”

“Your father is off-site until five.” Wise to Mina’s wiles, Janet accepts the drink, but looks askance at the tray. “I was under the impression that you had a prior engagement-- drinks with some of your sorority sisters this evening? Shouldn’t you be uptown by now if you want to make it on time?”

“Well, Una has the flu, and Cassie bailed on me at the last minute because she has a hot date with Miguel Rivera-- you know, the buff Pro soccer player she hooked up with the last time she went to Cabo for vacation. He looked her up because he’s in town. So no drinks for me, no ma’am, so here I am! I’m just going to go on back, but I promise not to bother anyone or break anything!”

Janet humphs as though she doesn’t quite trust Mina’s word, and Mina pouts for a moment even as she sails off towards the elevator in the back. She’d jammed the copy machine one time, all of ten years ago, and the old battle axe still held a grudge! But no matter. She had more important fish to fry, so to speak. Her father’s office is empty, as per Janet’s report, but she sets down the espresso macchiato in the middle of the desk, with a post-it note scribbled “Mina was here!” with a smiley face tacked on as an afterthought. The four drinks now down to two remaining ones, she makes her way down the hall to the last door on the right. It’s open only a sliver, bearing a plain placard with the name “Kenneth Knightley, CFO” engraved on it. The quiet sounds of keyboard tapping alerted that her target is indeed inside, though from the looks of it, has his back turned to the door as he crunched numbers in a spreadsheet on the computer. Mina raps her knuckles on the door frame for a split second before she invites herself in.

“Hey, Kenneth! I brought you coffee.” Kenneth, never Kenny or Ken, had been working for her father since her college days, though they rarely exchanged more than the usual pleasantries. Smart, driven, serious and good-looking in the unapproachable chiseled-jaw alpha-male way, Mina had always been quite certain that he had exactly zero use for the likes of her. That she knew bits and pieces about him that he’d never exactly told her himself-- his coffee order, for example (Grande Triple Americano, one non-dairy creamer, no sugar)-- was beside the point. But there was the not-small matter of the Taylor Swift concert tickets currently burning a hole in the bottom of her handbag, which had been discreetly dropped in there at some point after the gala masquerade. Exactly in the way that her infuriating older brother, Zander, had prophesied. And if he’d been right about that, then…

Kenneth’s shoulders snap straight, and he takes a moment to turn around, but by the time that he does, he’s schooled his face into polite neutrality. “Good afternoon, Mina.”

She’d insisted on their first meeting that she would not answer to ‘Miss Ainsley-Hart’ and only her mother called her ‘Romina’, and generally when she was not behaving herself. It had still taken him a good six months before he’d started calling her ‘Mina’, and she wasn’t above feeling a thrill of gratification whenever her name was spoken in those grave, collected tones. “You busy? I can just sit here and drink my own coffee until you finish. I got a caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream and cinnamon dolce sprinkles on top. It is delicious.”

“I will take your word for it.” He saves whatever spreadsheet he’d been working on, then closes out of it, courteously. “What brings you here today?”

“Well, I thought I’d say hi, and you know Janet almost didn’t let me back here because I think she hates me, but you’re free tomorrow night, right? For the concert? Because you are so going with me since those are your tickets and I am so thankful that you thought to give them to me but it would be wrong if you didn’t come with, seeing as to how you paid for them. So I came to set up the plans so we can go there tomorrow and have a great time and I am so going to treat you to drinks beforehand so you can be good and tipsy before dealing with legions of screaming fans, which I’m sure is completely not your scene. So, yes. Do you want to meet at my place, or yours? Five o’clock?”

“I…” Kenneth blinks, apparently caught off-guard. “You don’t have any friends who you’d want to go with you to that concert?” He doesn’t try to deny the fact that he had, indeed, bought expensive-ass Taylor Swift tickets and dropped them into her purse. But then again, she’d never known for him to be less than scrupulously honest about anything.

“That’s not the point!” Mina has a tendency to talk with her hands, and this time she has the wherewithal to set her sugary coffee concoction on his desk first before launching into her schpiel. “You do not have to give me concert tickets just to be nice! And while it’s a sweet gesture on your part, I could at least also get to enjoy your company while at this concert, you know? I insist. You’re going or I will give these tickets away to someone else. And then I would be sad, because they’re TAYLOR SWIFT TICKETS. So, where do you want to meet? We’ll have an hour before the concert begins and we can get drinks before then. My treat, of course. You do drink in moderation on social occasions, right? Oh of course you do. Glenfiddich and soda, if I remember correctly. From the last company Christmas party.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him carefully pull a Kleenex out of the box on the desk and place it, coaster-style, underneath her frappuccino cup, and curses herself for not thinking of it, but soldiers on nonetheless. “So yes. I think we can meet at my place. It’s a bit closer. And there’s a great little bar called Dazzle right by the venue which certainly has your Glenfiddich as well as a nice wine selection, since I’m pretty sure Scotch would put me out on my ass, and you don’t need me embarrassing you on top of everything else. Please don’t stand me up? I know this is probably not your idea of a fun time, but…”

Perhaps the faintest note of uncertainty makes it into her voice, because Kenneth finally cracks the tiniest of smiles, and faint though it is, it transforms his whole face. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Well, maybe it was a good thing he didn’t smile often, because there was no point in being turned into a babbling incoherent mess just by the random side observation that his eyelashes were a few shades darker than his hair, curly and surprisingly long, and that his eyes softened from the colour of the sky before a thunderstorm to a pleasant cashmere-charcoal. Mina meets that faint smile with a blinding megawatt one of her own and picks up her half-melted frappuccino. “So, five o’clock it is. I’ll let you get back to work and see you tomorrow, then. I’m so excited!!”

True to his word, Kenneth does not stand her up, and the doorman of her building calls her at 4:59 on the dot to tell her that she has a visitor. Mina spritzes on perfume and gives her hair one final once-over in the mirror before opening the door for him, and really, it’s not fair. She knows, intellectually, that he’s tall and built in such a way that no stodgy numbers-crunching finance guy has any right to be, but it’s easy to forget when he’s usually hunched over a computer at the office. Here, standing in front of her in pressed gray slacks and a white button-down, he towers over her even in her sparkly Jimmy Choos.

“Good evening, Mina. You look… nice.” If he’s a bit disconcerted by how glittery her dress is, he doesn’t say it. He does hold out her coat for her to slip into, and offer her his arm. It’s not a date, not exactly, but that doesn’t mean that Mina’s not about to make the most of it. She may or may not be vibrating with excitement, but keeps up a steady stream of conversation as they spend an hour at the bar over his Glenfiddich and her Riesling. Kenneth doesn’t talk too much about himself, seeming content to inquire, in his grave, polite way, what she’d been up to the last week.

“Well, there was wrapping up the stuff with the fundraiser, of course. Una bought the Dior dress, and it looks beautiful on her, and Matthew is going to swallow his tongue when he sees her in it. And I saw Zander off to the airport. He was a bit distracted after the party, which bears further investigation, but he’s in Vancouver now, so it’s hard to get all up in his business while he’s so far away. I’ll still call him later, because at least it’s Canada and not like, Madagascar or something, right?” Zander had also been the one to clue her into Kenneth’s possible intentions, and that has her staring into the pale golden surface of her wine, uncomfortably aware that she’s blushing. “Anyway, there’s the tax forms for the fundraiser to get filed, but I’m pretty sure they just got slapped on your desk by my mom the morning after. In which case, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I sort of get paid to handle stuff like that.”

“You’re paid to handle the real estate company’s finances, not this nonsense, and don’t try to pass it off as no big deal, because I did minor in econ at NYU, and non-profit is a whole new breed of pain in the ass to deal with from an accounting point of view. But thanks for handling it.” Mina plays with the slim stem of her wine glass, then glances up at him through her eyelashes. “The first time I met Dr. Miller, before the fundraiser, she cut the meeting short to Face-time her hospital in San Jose to talk to one of her patients. I sort of hung around. He’s a six-year-old boy who wants to be Captain America when he grows up, which… is a one in a hundred chance. She talked Avengers with him for ten minutes, and I’m pretty sure that’s not her type of movie. I almost cried.”

“She does important work, and so do you, for helping those like her get their funding.”

Mina beams, and when the bartender moseys on over, cheerfully orders both of them a refill before asking for the check. “I’m so glad you think so. So many people think that only ditzy rich girls work on fundraisers, and don’t have any idea how hard it can be. Do people think that Dior exclusives commissioned for A-listers just fall out of the sky or something? Anyway, we have time for another drink before we should get going. Figure I should let you get as tipsy as possible before Tay-Tay. Which… what type of music do you like, anyway?”

She had never seen him at a loss before this very moment, but this is most certainly the most deer-in-headlights look which had possibly ever crossed Kenneth Knightley’s face in the history of ever. He takes a long swallow of the Scotch and soda that has just been set down in front of him, then clears his throat. “I’m not much of a music guy.”

“Oh, surely you listen to something? It’s okay if it’s embarrassing. Opera? Trance techno? Death metal? I won’t judge, even if nothing trumps Tay-Tay.”

“No, nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” Mina blinks, her wineglass halfway to her mouth as she stares at him with not a little confusion. “Surely you listen to something. In the shower, or on the subway. Everyone does. No one actually talks to people on the subway.”

“Umm. Usually NPR, though I follow a few podcasts as well.”

He looks so glum and embarrassed at this admission, as though not being a music guy would disappoint her on a personal level, and though her mind sort of boggles at the idea of anyone who would listen to NPR while showering, she grins at him over the surprise and gives his arm a quick squeeze, noting at random that the bicep underneath her fingertips is solid and firm as a softball.

“Well, you’re in for a real treat, then. Tay-Tay is the GOAT. Just you wait and see.”

An hour and a half later finds Mina with a brand new sparkly white-and-gold Taylor Swift concert tee thrown over her equally sparkly dress, jamming and singing along with “I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In” next to a petite dark-haired girl with a nose-ring who, in typical concert fashion, was now her new best friend. Kenneth’s face looks much like that of someone in the waiting room of the dentist’s office right before a scheduled root canal. As there is a seven-foot-tall linebacker-sized man in a top hat and a legit Taylor Swift onesie dancing with at least equal enthusiasm to Mina and her new friend on his other side, she supposed that she couldn’t blame his discomfiture too much.

The pop star goes on to something slower a few songs later-- All Too Well, a ballad about lost love, and the dark haired girl lets out a few hiccuping sobs at Mina’s side, so Mina wraps both arms around her and they hug it out for the duration of the song. Like magic, the melancholy mood vanishes when the next song comes on, and they’re belting along with “Shake It Off” and dancing around Kenneth in a way likely designed to give him whiplash. But for all this behaviour is undoubtedly outlandish and completely incomprehensible to him, Kenneth looks as though he could be persuaded to crack a smile if he’d only let himself relax a little more, so Mina redoubles her efforts, likely yelling out “Haters Gonna Hate Hate Hate Hate Hate” loud enough to annoy everyone around them. But it does bring a tiny smile to his mouth for a second, and she finds, to her surprise, that she’s okay with him finding amusement at her ridiculousness. That had never, ever happened before with another guy.

“Are you having fun?!” She shouts at him over the applause and cheers as the song comes to a close. “Isn’t Taylor the best ever?!”

“It’s… catchy, I suppose. The music, that is.” It seems as though he had to think hard to find the correct word, but Mina forgives him even as she links her arm through his.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, because we still have the backstage passes and we get to MEET HER IN PERSON! I am having the best time EVER!”

Much to his credit, Kenneth doesn’t say anything, though the sigh that he lets out says it all for him.

They hit up a 24 hour diner after the concert, and this time, he insists on paying for her greasy hash browns and slightly burnt coffee, and though she knows quite well that he has likely been up for close to twenty-four hours at this point, he is a consummate gentleman and doesn’t mention that fact, and lets her excitedly run through a blow-by-blow of the concert that they’d just attended as he nurses his own coffee.

“And she is so nice isn’t she? And so so pretty! I wish I was that tall. Legs for days. Then I wouldn’t have to jog to keep up with tall people, or they wouldn’t have to slow down their stride like you’ve been doing all night, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Mina nibbles on a hash brown and gulps coffee adulterated with a good half-cup of sugar and cream. “Did you have some fun, though? At least a little? I hope I haven’t irritated you too much.”

“No, you didn’t irritate me, and you’re fine just as you are. You don’t need to be any taller.” It’s not exactly the most poetic or flowery of compliments, and yet Mina feels the stilted words warm her from within. Now, post-adrenaline-rush, a bit tired and content, somewhat cold from gallivanting about in a tiny dress all night and letting second-rate greasy food warm her back up, she absolutely can’t think of a better way to spend her Friday night. Undoubtedly, her usual crew is out at some place a great deal fancier, and having a blast, and yet… she takes a second hash brown and smiles up at Kenneth.

“So, should I get you a Taylor Swift album for your next birthday? I love her new one, but the old ones are where it’s really at.”

“You don’t have to get me anything for my birthday. But I should get you home, yeah? It’s getting late, and you’re probably cold. That coat’s still bound to be drafty with that dress, and you’ve been wearing it unbuttoned half the time.” Almost as though on impulse, he buttons it up all the way, then jerks his hands back like he hadn’t meant to take such a liberty.

The traffic is reasonable by New York City standards when they share a cab to her place, and he walks her all the way to her door, gentleman-like. Mina turns to him with a smile, and-- is he leaning towards her just a little?

He is, one hand held out towards her, and she launches herself at him, wrapping both arms around a broad back firm with muscle underneath his black pea-coat, but he freezes, stiff as a board, and belatedly she realizes that he probably meant to shake her hand rather than give her a hug, and she’s quite certain that the heat of her cheeks is warm enough to start a fire in the hallway. But there’s nothing to do but roll with it, and she stands on tiptoe, leaving a whisper of Tom Ford Lavish against his jaw as she air-kisses him.

“Well, good night. And have a good weekend. I’ll see you around. Probably.” Uncomfortably aware that she’s babbling, like she has been all night long, really, she unlocks her door while managing to avoid his eyes, and all but jogs in, heels and all. She leans against the door after it’s locked back up behind her, and lets out a windy sigh as she pulls up Spotify on her phone.

Lovelorn ballads by Taylor seemed to be in order, possibly played on repeat, the neighbours be damned.

Mina takes four days to talk herself into visiting the office again, and even then, makes a point to shuffle her own schedule for the day, getting up at an ungodly hour of the morning to sweet-talk a contact in Milan to donate couture evening-wear for a charity fashion show-- proceeds to benefit victims of domestic violence. That phone call, which was originally slotted in for early afternoon, freed up the rest of the morning to visit the salon after a shopping trip to Bergdorf Goodman-- it was never too late, after all, to get her parents the present for their upcoming anniversary, and she went with the traditional 35th anniversary gemstone of emerald for both-- finding matching platinum-and-emerald cufflinks for her dad and earrings for her mother. She has both presents wrapped and sent off to her place, and then leaves herself at the tender mercies of her stylist, Adrianna, whose surgeon-steady hands snip off the split ends of her golden hair and refreshes the layers without taking off so much as a centimeter more than necessary. In the very least, she knows, she will be facing Kenneth looking her absolute best. Not that he was the shallow type like that, but still.

“That’s a boy-related frown, and boy-related frowns cause wrinkles.” Adrianna’s voice floats, matter-of-fact, above her head. “I’m double-booked like a mother-trucker this whole week because of the ills of holiday over-indulgence which apparently I’m supposed to wave my magic wand and handle, and don’t have time to deal with wrinkles today, sweetie, so you’re either just going to have to jump him or get over him.”

“I don’t know if jumping him is in the cards, and there’s no getting over someone who never exactly-- well. It’s weird, is all.” Mina starts to pick at her nails, a bad habit from her middle school days, but a stern look reflected in the mirror stops the fidgety movement in its tracks. “Am I so obvious?”

“Sweetie, I’m pretty sure I’ve not seen a boy-related frown on your face since I did your updo and makeup for senior prom, and had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that any boy who told people to call him ‘Ace’ with a straight-ass face is clearly on next-level rom-com antagonist levels of douchebag. But all I can do is make you look gorgeous, not that you’re not already, and wish you luck. Please tell me he at least has a normal name.”

“His name is Kenneth, and he has an MBA from Columbia, and he works for my dad, and he has absolutely no use for me whatsoever.”

“Oh, nonsense. If he found some use for you, he’d probably have lobbied for you to be on daddy dearest’s payroll, and then where would we be? Wearing some ugly blazer and god-awful follicle-destroying chignon. My suggestion is to get a stupidly large box of chocolates, of course. The damned things are already getting put up in stores in preparation for Valentine’s Day, of course. Either the boy is not interested, and then you can self-medicate with chocolate endorphins, or he is interested, and you can share the chocolates, in bed.”

The deliberately crass suggestion brings Mina out of her funk, as it is intended to do, and she laughs helplessly even as Adrianna finishes blowing out her hair, fussing with it until it gleams like sunlit silk. Mina thanks the stylist and leaves a generous tip, and then stops at a boutique bakery en route to the office. She does buy the stupidly large box of chocolates, but also a fancy box of assorted macarons in numerous pastel shades.

This time, when she arrives at the desk of the formidable Janet, she doesn’t do much more than hold out the delicate cookies as a peace offering. “I’m just going to go on back.”

“Good for you. I’m too busy to chit-chat anyway. Take your cookies and be off. Close the door behind you when you have it out with him, will you?” Janet doesn’t even look up from the computer screen, the phone receiver cradled between her shoulder and jaw as she clacks away at the keyboard. Mina looks at the solidly-built brunette with a little bit of consternation, but Janet simply waves an irritable hand in dismissal. Put squarely in her place, she makes her silent way to the elevators, and makes a beeline towards Kenneth’s office.

It’s almost deja vu when she gets there. Door slightly ajar. The man seated at his desk, typing away at some spreadsheet. She knocks, then lets herself in. “Hi.” To her annoyance, her voice seems to have gone all breathy and low.

Kenneth still takes his time to turn around, but this time, when he does, his expression is almost soft. As with the last time, he closes the Excel spreadsheet and gives her his full attention. “Mina. What brings you here today?”

“I… cookies? That is, do you want cookies? I thought I’d come and say hi. Hopefully you’re recovered from being surrounded by Swifties. Are you busy?” Belatedly, she remembers Janet’s injunction that she close the door, and gives it a hasty shove. The slam sounds overly loud in this quiet hallway, and she blushes. “I know my dad usually schedules his meetings in the mornings, so I figured this would be a better time.”

“Yeah, he’s off-site. A late business lunch with some guy from an architectural firm. And you didn’t need to come and make sure I’m all right. I… I had a good time that evening. Really.”

“I should’ve brought you something for lunch rather than cookies, probably, but they looked so good. Not practical, though.” She, too, wasn’t the practical type. Taylor Swift and sparkly dresses as opposed to NPR and spreadsheets. What was she doing, really? Without anyone here to stop her, she sets down both cookies and candy box on his desk and picks at her cuticles. “Anyway. Glad you didn’t hate it. I should probably go. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

For such a big man, he moves with incredible speed as he stands up and comes around the desk, blocking her way to the door before she’d registered that he’d moved. “Mina. Are you all right? You seem out of sorts, and in the… six years, seven months, two days and… an hour and a half?... that I’ve known you, you’ve never been like this.”

She blinks up at him, then crosses her arms. “Six years, seven months, two days, and three hours and fifteen minutes. I know exactly when I met you.”

“No, your dad introduced you to me before taking you out for lunch that day at eleven o’clock. It’s twelve twenty-six right now.”

Mina, if she closes her eyes, can see that day as clear as if it were yesterday, down to the navy blue tie knotted just a little too tight on the man standing across from her. He’d filled out a bit since that internship when he’d started working at the firm, and his ties were both more expensive and more expertly tied nowadays, but… She raises her chin stubbornly. “Yeah, that’s when my dad introduced us. But I actually met you before that, when I was running to make the elevator and you held it open for me, remember? I said hi, you said hi back. I remember thinking, when my dad introduced us, oh, it was nice to have a name to go with the hot guy I’d run into on the elevator. But you sort of didn’t have any use for me, and you still don’t, not really, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company, right? Maybe not at another Taylor Swift concert, if that’s truly not your thing, but I…”

“You remember that?” She’s not quite sure how he got so close, but he’s standing right in front of her now, and when she looks up, she’s eye-level to his chin. She tilts her head up, and the expression in his face is something she’s never seen before, and it gives her enough courage to finish.

“I remember a lot of things about you, Kenneth! You just don’t know, because you don’t pay much attention to me, which I guess we don’t have too much in common, not really, but just because we don’t talk that much doesn’t mean that I don’t know, just like you must have known how much I wanted to go to that concert, and being there with you was the best time I’ve had in forever, though you can’t tell Una that, because she’ll be sad and look like a kitten left out in the rain, and I was just trying to work up the nerve to see if you wanted to spend some more time together and…”

She’s cut off mid-sentence by a pair of strong arms, bare to the elbows with the sleeves rolled up, hauling her up just a little off her feet and pulling her close. She has one breathless moment to register that he smells really, really good before she’s being kissed, and there’s nothing placid about it at all as one hand fists in the glossy hair that Adrianna had just so painstakingly blown out and the other lands at the small of her back, hot and wide through the thin material of her dress. She can do nothing but clutch at his wide shoulders and hang on for dear life, but a moment later, she gives as good as she gets, lips parting under his and soothing the tiny nip that she inflicts on his lower lip with a flick of her tongue. A moan breaks the silence of the office, and she belatedly realizes that it escaped from her lips as his mouth shifts to the sensitive skin of her jaw, giving both of them the chance to catch their breaths.

Mina slides her fingers through the silky hair at the nape of his neck and leans her head against the crook of his shoulder, where it seems to fit perfectly. “Don’t you dare start to regret kissing me.” The words come out forcefully, but with a bit of a tremble nonetheless which she tries to hide by muffling it against his neck. He’d have lipstick on his collar, but it couldn’t be helped.

A faint, slightly breathless chuckle escapes him, rumbling through his chest underneath her ear. “No. I regret not kissing you that night, though.” That statement is delivered in a shockingly frank, matter-of-fact way even as he tilts her face back up. Her fingers, of their own volition, link together at the back of his neck, and she’s sure that her smile is both goofy and excessive. It was quite likely that she would not be eating that box of chocolate in its entirety in boy-inflicted angst, after all.

“Well, I can invite you to dinner tonight, and we can make up for lost time afterwards. Unless you’re busy. If you’re busy, we can resche--”

His mouth stamps over hers, cutting her off mid-sentence, but the kiss is sweet and gentle this time, and she’s sighing with the romance of it all by the time he pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay.”

The giddy thrill of it is not unlike something that would be touched upon in a Taylor Swift song, she decides, but she keeps that thought to herself for the moment. Maybe in another six years, seven months, two days and however many hours, she’d bring that up again. Surely by then, she could teach him to enjoy the finer things in life, such as jamming to pop music in the shower.

#m/k #senshi/shitennou #sailor moon #fanfiction #fanfic #mygeekycorner #minakosaino

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jejassimworlds · 4 years

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Create your family

Okay, so first. Thank you all for helping me <3

I need a minimal amount of sims who are empolyed in every job to make it work when another player starts the world. As I made a few sims myself some jobs already have one or two employee(but every job is available for you atm). With jobs I mean every normal job with a rabbithole. I have made a list with how many sims I need for every job. If more poeple want a job than I can give, the person who said first she wants a sim with this job is going to get it(maybe the other ones can have jobs from ambition? have to look into that). At the end of the post I will introduce you to my sims.

Every area in which your sims can live:

Old town

As you know the history of the town, you can guess that in the old town will mostly live supernatural sims. I have not build any house for that(cause I only can build modern houses and want to challenge me later) but I imagined some vintage houses just like Moonlight Falls.

Suburb srea

Near the new modernized city is a suburb area. I have begun with that area so there are the most sims already. Here are mostly normal sims with some supernatural beings from somewhere else(they are not part of the founders). Some of the kids of the older people live here too(I mean after generations living in an old house they wanted something more).

West side

On the west side(in the picture on the left side) is a bungalow town. Here are 3 resorts and I want to make a bar somewhere there. Here live people who wants to live near the nature(and a werwolf with a mermaid). Because I cant bungalows either, here is only one house with said sims in it xD

South beach

The long south beach has not really showed his face to me yet. Means I do not have a clue what to do with it. Maybe you have an idea.

City

In the city area are only the apartments from Late NIght(cause I dont know how to build them myself and do not see that as my biggest problem xD) and a few houses for the more richer sims who need to live near the city(there are all the things from Showtime and Late Night).

Bay

Then we have the bay. This is the area on the right side of the picture. Here should be a place for people who likes the outdoor but do not want to abandon the comfort of the city.

Rich beach

On the left upper side of the picture is the area that I call fondly “rich beach”. Here are a few houses for the real rich people who wants privacy and want to show off their wealth.

When you plan your family bare in mind that most of the supernatural beings live in the old town. Exceptions would be childrens of the older sims who can live anywhere they want. And also some human sims can live in the old town too but not so many(maybe they are descendents from friends who fled with the supernatural?).

The only sims who could be the founders of the island and still live are vampires(cause they are the only one who cann become truly immortal in game(and yes I know about the elixiers etc but I do not consider that “natural” since they have to make the potion, vampires get the life time reward therefore I consider it more “natural”))

I have a couple of ports. Two at the rich beach, two at the west beach, two at the south beach, four at the end of the south beach(near the bay). Not all of them should be occupied(I wil decide how many as I go).

Now for my sims:

New Suburb Area

Aiken

The family consists of Dahlia(journalist) and Callum. Callum is lazy as hell but is a firefighter. Thay have three children. Sophie(Toddler), Eric(Teen) and Sam(Teen. Dahlia hates that her husband is so lazy and begun an affair with her coworker Oliver.

Clars1

Jeremy is a firefighter, gay, a werwolf and Callums best friend. He is the one who made sure that Callum wont loose his job.

Tompkins

Lexa and Anna are married. In their old town they were bullied so they moved. Lexa is a vampire who is in the Business Carrier. She is the best friend of Dahlia who lives across the street. Anna is a human(thats the reason they were bullied) who wants to rule the world(as a politician). And she wants to become a vampire one day to be forever with Lexa.

Hawthorne1

Luna and Ryan are descendents of the witch founders. Luna is a teacher and Ryan a musician. Thay have a kid daughter called Marie.

Every adult sim is and adult except for I think Lexa who is a young adult.

Old town

Hawthorne2(Ryans parents)

Aurelia and Zander are elders and Ryans parents. They are witches. Aurelia is a criminal and Zander a doctor.

Abott(Lunas parents)

Mitchel is a cook and Francisca an athlete. Both are elders and witches.

Clars2(Jeremys and Deans parents)

Halsey and Bentley are elderly werwolves. Halsey is a scientist and Bentley a politician.

Bungalow Town

Clars3

Dean found his true love in the sea. Marina is a mermaid who fall in love with the werwolf and followed him onto land. She wants to understand the world as a scientist and Dean is in the military.

I dont know where to put them yet

Cory and Moore

Oliver Cory is a journalist and the affair of Dahlia. Tatiana is his girlfriend and they recently moved in together. Tatiana is a stylist.

As for skincolor, all my sims have normal skin color so no blue, green etc. Genies can have any unnatural skincolor you want. With witches we have to work something out because my witches are all normal skincolors. Same with blue, green etc werwolves and vampires :)

In my mind all fairies were townies(which means basically homeless) because I put faire houses and castles everywhere and they can live inside them :) dsdfgdfgYou can make fairies because your stories sounds so great(but I still want some homeless fairies). Mermaids where supposed to be townies as well cause they live at the sea. However some may have decided to join the land people like Marina. So you can make sims who ware intended to be mermaids as well:)

IMPORTANT NOTE

When you create your sim dont ever play with them before you send them to me! This could make them corrupt. If you want to have a mermaid(or some other occult that you cant do in cas) let me do it. If you want to have you sim to have skills I will give them the skills.I f they have relatives in another household I will make them related.

Basically just do everything you can do in cas and nothing else!

If you have an idea and considered everything above feel free to hit me up with your story BEFORE you create the sims.

And again thank you for your interest and you enthusiasm <3

#sims3 #ts3 #betterislandparadise #caw #sims3caw #betterislaparadiso

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radioactive-synth · 5 years

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no one tagged me, just ‘borrowed’ this from posts i seen around. taggin: @radioactiveblight @aphelioo @ladyinquisitor @inholywater @rogue-lavellan @shinycosmog @lavellane @gaaaayshepard

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

1. What is your name?

“Name’s Vaughn Zander. Nice to meet you.”

2. How old are you?

“35 years old. That, if you don’t add another 210 years.”

3. What do you look like?

“It’s not obvious? *sighs and rolls his eyes* Tall and muscular, light brown hair and beard, steel eyes, I wear glasses, my old vault suit with a blue long coat with the Minutemen symbol on back. ”

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now?

“Born in the same land I live now.”

5. What was your childhood like?

“It was good, especially that i spent time with my mom, my uncle and my cousin. Not so nice whenever my father was at home. *he sighs and runs one of his hands on the other arm* Anyway, I have good memories and mom and I remember these dearly.”

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“I’m the General of Minutemen, and we are allied with Atom Cats, Far Harbor and Acadia. We have a peace treat with the BOS, but I can’t trust Maxson ever again. The Railroad will always have my support, even that Desdemona don’t wanna see me ever again.”

7. Tell me about your best friend.

“Besides my lovers? *smirks* I can talk about Debbie. *his smile getting wider* She is a total sweetheart. Very kind, caring, always there to help anyone, has a good heart, but sometimes she can be stubborn. Smart and funny, and her laugh is one of the best sounds I can hear daily. She is like a sister for me. More words cannot describe how much she means to me. *stops to rub one of his eye*”

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

“Yes! My lovers, Nick and Hancock, our son, Oliver, Codsworth, our pet chicken Hera, Dogmeat, my mom Olivia, Debbie, and the rest of Sanctuary family: *starts counting on fingers* Danse, Preston, Charlie, Rosaline, Sturges, Piper, Nat, MacCready, Duncan, Ellie, Curie, Deacon, Cait, Rose, Tamir... *stops for a few seconds, letting a sigh* then it’s Hera’s pack: Fluffy, a deathclaw, Claws, Rose’s radscorpion, Rex, Tamir’s dog, Nix, mom’s dog, Silver, Ellie’s dog, Gracie, Nat’s mutant hound. ”

9. What about a partner or partners?

“I already mentioned my lovers, Nick and Hancock.”

10. Who are your enemies, and why?

“The fuckin’ raiders *sighs and runs his hand through his hair* And the Gunners. Some of these days they will get it that it’s our land now.”

11. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

“If I heard? Debbie and I been trained by them for a while. They could help out so many people, but guess that Maxson is the worst leader ever and never thinks of other humans, not even of those under his leadership. I can’t trust him anymore since he wanted to kill Danse. We ended a peace treat, but I can’t rest too easy, knowing that his troops still roam in Commonwealth.”

12. What about The Enclave?

“Not much of them, except from what I heard from Rose and Tamir. According to Rose, they were responsible for creating the intelligent deathclaws, just like she is, but they took her human mother away, and she escaped from them. Tamir mentioned that her friend Arcade was part of Enclave and helped her take the Hoover Dam. So I can’t really say what i think about them now.”

13. How do you feel about Super Mutants?

“They are so bad, but I understand that they went through terrible experiments. I only met a few good Super Mutants, so I hope there are others there. I would welcome them if they are willing to change and help.”

14. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

“I don’t know, does the one with the BOS and Railroad fighting while I was sneaking in Bunker Hill with a courser to get the synths back to Institute counts? Desdemona never forgave me for this.”

15. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

“So many times.”

16. Do you like fighting?

“I can’t say it’s what I love. But it’s something I must do to protect other people.”

17. What’s your weapon of choice?

“It’s ‘Ares’, my furious power fist. Also the shield that Oliver done for me.”

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

“I like to believe that my strength, my intelligence and my charisma is what keeps me alive out there. But of course I would wish to be more agile and avoid the hits. My family keeps telling me I should use guns, but I can’t see well from long distance.”

S - 16 P - 5 E - 6 C - 12 I - 16 A - 4 L - 3

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

"I’ve been frozen for 210 years in a vault, you expect me to like them anymore? Vault 81 seems a good vault, but I can’t stay there for long without feeling claustrophobic.”

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

“It sometimes affect me, but I take rad-x, and when I’m feeling more sick, a radaway is what I need. At first it affected my stomach, given that I ate radiated pre war food, but with cooked food, I feel better.”

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

“Chickens! Especially my chicken Hera.”

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

“Bugs!”

23. How do you feel about robots?

“They are totally fine, as long as they won’t kill me on spot.”

24. How many caps do you have on you right now?

“Probably 30 caps? I have more in my bag.”

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

“Nuka Cherry.”

26. Do you do chems?

“No!”

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

“Yea *looks other way, seemed deep in thoughts*. There are a lot of things that I miss, but I don’t miss the politics and the constant fear we lived in.”

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

“I... wished that I would took the Institute under my hand. All the resources there, lost now just cause of my blind anger. *puts a hand over his face* I don’t want to think about this again.”

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

“Maybe it’s the fact that my family and I rebuilt the Minutemen and a lot of people trusts us now? But also the fact that I made a new family, and I will always protect them, no matter what. Our plans is to clear the Commonwealth of dangers, get rid of raiders and gunners and people will have better lives.”

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“I mentioned that I want to make the Commonwealth a safer place for everyone. For me personally? All I want is to enjoy my time with my family, and to heal. For my family I want them safe and happy.”

#oc vaughn zander #blue.txt #fallout oc #sole survivor #fallout 4

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sweet-star-storybook · 4 years

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Hey all, back at it again with the random posts, aha. I have been working on something that will formally address the month long art / comic hiatus I’ve been on, but that’s taking a bit longer than I expected. So as a break (I guess?) I took it upon myself to update what I call my Original Stories Timeline, i.e. a chronological list of all of my story ideas (as of October 2019 anyway). I have not posted this list anywhere, but I like to update it on my laptop every now and again.

There is a bit of ambiguity with some of the years that these were made, as sometimes there’s a difference between coming up with the title or lead character for a story versus actually making it a “thing” with an idea or scenes attached. As an example, Moth to the Flame technically began when I first drew Kiida in April of 2015, but aside from a snippet of reasoning for why she was an archer, the story as it is now did not start to take form until I drew Zander in December of 2017. Other times I flat out can’t remember when some of these stories were made, and digital files don’t always have the correct dates.

For this post (and for curiosity’s sake), I wanted to add up and categorize them to see just how many stories I have in this brain of mine. It was actually quite a fascinating exercise, so I thought I’d share! I might as well list the titles for each category too, even if some of these are only titles at this point. I’ve renamed a few over the years and others are still working titles, but if any pique your interest at all, feel free to send me an ask about them! I love chatting about this stuff. :)

This got quite long once again so I’ll put it under the cut. Enjoy!

Stories that are old and/or need revamping: 6

Titles in this category: Pasha & Marley (2003), Sonora (2004), Billy and the Rainbow Fish (2005), Spirit Fire (2006), The Darkest Light (2013), Polarity (2013).

These are stories that I’ve either had since I was a kid and would need overhauls to make them usable, or are simply dormant stories that I haven’t touched in a while and may need similar upgrades. This doesn’t mean that I will revamp all of them, but either way they serve as an interesting look at my progression as a story writer and character designer. My oldest story dates back to around 2003, and to put that into perspective, I was 8 years old that year.

Stories that are just titles / a smattering of ideas right now: 10

Titles in this category: Fletcher (2016), The Dragons of Kitevale (2016), King Ace (2017), Ochako & Mai (2018), Psychanimate (2018), Mage Lights (2019), Trickster’s Gambit (2019), Switching Gears (2019), The Owlands (2019), Goodnight, Starlie (2019).

I always have too many of these for my own good, but this happens a lot if I have stray character designs that I think could maybe go together, and then before I know it the gears start turning in my head to add something more. I’m also really good at coming up with titles and logos to make me love the idea even more, even if there’s not much else to it. I guess you can blame my affinity for wordplay and clever puns for that, haha. Coming up with titles is really fun, but at this point I don’t know what kinds of stories these will be if I choose to develop them, so I gave them a separate category. Making this timeline reminded me of how many logos I still need to make!

Short films / animatics that I could also make into short comics: 7

Titles in this category: The Aurora’s Child (2016), Blue (2016), Harpy (2017), Hearth & Lantern (2017), Leif & Shel (2018), The Healer (2019), In Your Orbit (2019).

My background in animation has afforded me the skills of writing for animation, specifically short films. I have always loved short films that communicate their story through little or no dialogue, and using the character’s actions and emotions to do the talking instead. Unfortunately my dreams of making a short film during school did not come to fruition, but that doesn’t mean the ideas have to go away, regardless of what form they take. I’ve made too many at this point to stop now anyway! I will likely do both a comic and an animatic for each one I decide to flesh out, as I want to practice both kinds of storytelling and they each have their advantages. Plus I could potentially make a comic anthology of these shorter stories in the future. Much like the animatics, the comics would likely be “silent”, in that they communicate more with action than dialogue.

Things I call “illustration worlds”: 2

Titles in this category: Fruit Bats (2017), Lucky Stars (2019)

This one is a bit strange to explain, honestly. I picture these as more of a series of character interactions rather than a cohesive narrative, i.e. snippets of ideas carried out in a bunch of individual scenes, portrayed via illustrations. I am reminded a lot of the character interactions that exist in concept art for games and movies (the ones from Spyro: Reignited Trilogy come to mind). These illustrations would feature characters that could be in any sort of environment or setting, and we learn more about their personalities through each one, whether it’s a simple domestic scene or a fantasy world. There may not be anything much deeper than that, but there doesn’t have to be. A great deal of energy and expression can still be shown with these, and I love illustrations that have their own little stories contained within them. I could even compile them as a series of themed illustrations, hence why I still gave them titles (and once again, titles are fun).

Novels / story ideas I don’t plan on making into comics: 2

Titles in this category: Shining Trigger (2014), A Mightier Pen (2017)

I’ve always loved writing long-form prose ever since I was a kid, and based on how many words these posts end up having, I can’t say much has changed! As such, I’ve always wanted to write a novel someday, but it does require a different skill set than script writing. With my background in animation and my new love of comics added in, I’ve done a bit of both. I might do novelizations of some of my comics later on, but these stories are, for the most part, better suited as written prose in my mind. They focus more on the characters and dialogue, rather than an imagined visual design. Not to say that novelists can’t paint detailed pictures of a character or world’s attributes, but it is communicated differently via words than pictures, especially when you consider the mind’s eye of a novel reader. That “design” has to be malleable enough for the mind’s eye to interpret, but clear enough so the reader knows what it is. I’d have to make sure that any reader could picture what I’m describing with my writing alone, and that’s a difficult balance to strike for a primarily visual storyteller such as myself, but a challenge worth taking nonetheless.

Large comic stories that have big worlds, a lot of characters, etc.: 3

Titles in this category: Starglass Zodiac (2015), Id Pariah (2015), Feather Knights (2017).

I call these “The Big Three”, as they are the stories that will take the most world building, character creation, and story development to complete. They will have multiple chapters, expansive lore, several character arcs, you name it. I am very excited to tackle all of this development of course, but I want to make sure these are given the time they need to come to fruition. These projects will take me years to complete, which is why I choose to balance them with smaller projects in between. The potential these stories have is not something I want to squander, so even if the production moves slower, I feel it’ll be worth it in the end.

Smaller comic stories with fewer characters, simpler concepts, etc.: 5

Titles in this category: Moth to the Flame (2015), The Onomancer (2015), Demon Exchange (2018), Take Wing! Emilia’s Tale (2018), Ashes (2018).

This is worded kind of strangely, but this category is meant for stories that have a smaller “scope” than the larger comic stories I mentioned. That doesn’t mean I love them any less or that they’ll be less developed, but they are far simpler in concept and rely less on the development of a massive world and lore and more on individual character experiences. I feel like any creator needs these smaller projects to tackle every so often, especially when tackling the behemoths gets tough. These stories will also have a faster turnover when it comes to completion, and I hope to complete one of these stories in the near future. These will also help me practice writing good foundations for stories, like proper character motivation, pacing, and relationship development that would translate into investment for the reader. There’s a great degree of skill required to do this correctly for any kind of story, but starting smaller in this regard is usually better.

Smaller stories that are supplements or spin-offs of other stories: 3

Titles in this category: Counting Hearts (2019), The Serpent and the Sun (2019), Riders of Eldrigar (2019).

I know it probably seems a bit early to be thinking about stuff like this, but I do like thinking about the extended stories or supplements that I could add to my pre-existing projects, especially with characters or ideas that would best be told separate from the main story, be they backstories or another perspective on something. I also like the idea of stories that could exist in the same worlds, but can function independently of them as well. It’s a lot of fun to see how these could connect with each other, like having your own equivalent to a cinematic universe. This category currently only has smaller supplements to my comic stuff rather than fully fledged sequels, but who knows what might happen later on? I need to make the beginnings of these stories first!

And with that, the grand total is: 38!

-me after reading this total and spending way too much time on this post-

In all seriousness though, while it is a bit daunting to see just how many things my brain keeps tossing at me and how much that number has increased in recent years, it does make me excited for the future, even if I panic about time a lot. It tells me that I always have stories to tell, and new ones could be right around the corner. I’ll always have something to work on at least! I might periodically update this post as I edit the timeline as well, but for now, thanks for coming along on this little journey with me! :D I hope it was at least entertaining, haha.

#rambles #projects #stories #titles #random #don't worry I'm not tagging all of the story titles lol #long post #oh boy this took me hours and i don't know why lmao #i rant about my stories too much i guess

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entreprenergy · 5 years

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Tribes – by Seth Godin

A tribe is a group of people connected to one another, connected to a leader, and connected to an idea.

A group needs only two things to be a tribe : a shared interest and a way to communicate.

Tribes need leadership. People want connection and growth and something new. They want change.

Humans can’t help it : we need to belong. One of the most powerful of our survival mechanisms is to be part of a tribe, to contribute to (and take from) a group of like-minded people. We are drawn to leaders and to their ideas, and we can’t resist the rush of belonging and the thrill of the new.

Some tribes are stuck. They embrace the status quo and drown out any tribe member who dares to question authority and the accepted order. Big charities, tiny clubs, struggling corporations – they’re tribes and they’re stuck. I’m not so interested in those tribes. They create little of value and they’re sort of boring. Every one of those tribes, though, is a movement waiting to happen – a group of people just waiting to be energized and transformed.

A movement is thrilling. It’s the work of many people, all connected, all seeking something better.

Leaders have followers. Managers have employees.

Here’s what’s changed : some people admire the new and stylish far more than they respect the proven state of affairs. More often than not, these fad-focused early adopters are the people who buy and the people who talk. As a result, new ways of doing things, new jobs, new opportunities, and new faces become ever more important.

Marketing, the verb, changed the market. The market is now a lot less impressed with average stuff for average people, and the market is a lot less impressed with loud and flashy and expensive advertising. Today, the market wants change.

Jack, an “occasional restaurant” run by Danielle Sucher and Dave Turner in Brooklyn. They open the restaurant only about 20 times a year, on Saturday nights. By appointment. Go online and you can see the menu in advance. Then, you book and pay if you want to go. Instead of seeking diners for their dishes, they get to create dishes for their diners. Instead of serving anonymous patrons, they throw a party. Danielle is the food columnist for the popular Gothamist website, and she and Dave run the food blog Habeas Brûlée. That means they already interact with the tribe. It means that once the restaurant is up and running, it becomes the central clearinghouse, the place to hang out with the other tribe members.

Leaders don’t care very much for organizational structure or the official blessing of whatever factory they work for. They use passion and ideas to lead people, as opposed to using threats and bureaucracy to manage them.

There’s a difference between telling people what to do, and inciting a movement. The movement happens when people talk to one another, when ideas spread within the community, and most of all, when peer support leads people to do what they always knew was the right thing.

Great leaders create movements by empowering the tribe to communicate. They establish the foundation for people to make connections, as opposed to commanding people to follow them.

IMPROVING A TRIBE: It only takes two things to turn a group of people into a tribe:

A shared interest

A way to communicate

The communication can be:

leader to tribe

tribe to leader

tribe member to tribe member

tribe member to outsider

So a leader can help increase the effectiveness of the tribe and its members by:

transforming the shared interest into a passionate goal and desire for change

providing tools to allow members to tighten their communications

leveraging the tribe to allow it to grow and gain new members

At SxSW, Scott Beale was tired of waiting in line to get into the Google party, so he walked down the street, found a deserted bar, grabbed some tables in the back, and used Twitter to announce, “Alta Vista Party at Ginger Man”. Within minutes, 8 people showed up. Then 50, then a line out the door.

Organizations are more important than ever. It’s the factories we don’t need.

Organizations give us the ability to create complex products. They provide the muscle and consistency necessary to get things to market and to back them up. Most important, organizations have the scale to care for large tribes.

Organizations of the future are filled with smart, fast, flexible people on a mission. Thing is, that requires leadership.

We choose not to be remarkable because we’re worried about criticism. We’re worried, deep down, that someone will hate it and call us on it.

Watch a few people get criticized for being innovative and it’s pretty easy to convince yourself that the very same thing will happen to you if you’re not careful.

How can I create something that critics will criticize?

All great leaders are generous – they enable the tribe to thrive.

The most powerful way to enable is to be statue-worthy : by getting out front, by making a point, by challenging convention, and by speaking up.

It’s easy to hesitate when confronted with the feeling that maybe you’re getting too much attention. Great leaders are able to reflect the light onto their teams, their tribes. Great leaders don’t want the attention, but they use it to unite the tribe and to reinforce its sense of purpose.

When you abuse the attention, you are taking something from the tribe. When a CEO starts acting like a selfish monarch, he’s no longer leading. He’s taking.

TIGHTER:

The first thing a leader can focus on is the act of tightening the tribe. It’s tempting to make the tribe bigger, to get more members, to spread the word. This pales, however, when juxtaposed with the effects of a tighter tribe. A tribe that communicates more quickly, with alacrity and emotion, is a tribe that thrives.

A tighter tribe is one that is more likely to hear its leader, and more likely still to coordinate action and ideas across the members of the tribe.

This tightening can happen without technology, and it can happen when there’s no profit motive. Keith Ferrazzi leads a tribe of smart celebrities and opinion leaders – from Meg Ryan to Ben Zander – and he leads this unleadable group merely by tightening the tribe. He introduces people. He invites them to dinner. He finds areas of common interest then gets out of the way.

DISCOMFORT IS WHERE THE LEADER IS NEEDED:

It’s uncomfortable to stand up in front of strangers. It’s uncomfortable to propose an idea that might fail. It’s uncomfortable to challenge the status quo. It’s uncomfortable to resist the urge to settle. When you identify the discomfort, you’ve found the place where a leader is needed. If you’re not uncomfortable in your work as a leader, it’s almost certain you’re not reaching your potential as a leader.

FOLLOWERS / MICRO-LEADERSHIP:

Blind sheep do nothing but mindlessly follow instructions. They don’t do the local leadership required when tribe members interact. They’re not going to do a very good job of recruiting new members. Evangelism requires leadership.

People eagerly engage when they want something to improve. This micro-leadership is essential. It’s the micro-leaders in the trenches and their enthusiastic followers who make the difference, not the honcho who is ostensibly running the group.

Leaders work hard to generate movement that can transform a group into a tribe.

The posture of leaning in is rare and valuable.

When looking to hire – I set up a private Facebook group for the applicants and invited each one to participate. 60 of them joined immediately. No tribe existed yet – just 60 strangers. Within hours, a few had taken the lead, posting topics, starting discussions, leaning in and leading. They called on their peers to contribute and participate. And the rest? They lurked.

Whom would you hire?

Not all leadership involves getting in the face of the tribe. It takes just as much effort to successfully get out of the way. Jimmy Wales leads Wikipedia not by inciting, but by enabling others to fill the vacuum.

The one path that never works is the most common one : doing nothing at all.

The difference between backing off and doing nothing may appear subtle, but it’s not. A leader who backs off is making a commitment to the power of the tribe, and is alert to the right moment to step back in. Someone who is doing nothing is merely hiding.

Leadership is a choice. It’s the choice to not do nothing. Lean in, back off, but don’t do nothing.

Others will scoff and move on, wondering what the obsession is all about. That’s what makes a tribe, of course. There are insiders and outsiders.

Curious is the key word. It has to do with a desire to understand, a desire to try, a desire to push whatever envelope is interesting. Leaders are curious because they can’t wait to find out what the group is going to do next. The changes in the tribe are what are interesting, and curiosity drives them.

In order to lead a tribe, all you need to do is motivate people who choose to follow you.

KEEPING IT SMALL:

Imagine two classrooms with similar teachers. One has 15 students, the other, 32. Which group gets a better education? The smaller class – because the teacher has more time to spend customizing the lesson to each student. She has fewer students, hence fewer disruptions as well.

Great leaders don’t try to please everyone. Great leaders don’t water down their message in order to make the tribe a bit bigger. Instead, they realize that a motivated, connected tribe in the midst of a movement is far more powerful than a larger group could ever be.

Some tribes do better when they’re smaller. More exclusive. Harder to get into. Some tribes thrive precisely because they’re small. Push to make one of these tribes bigger and you might just ruin the entire thing. “No one goes there anymore – it’s too popular.”

Leaders who set out to give are more productive than leaders who set out to get.

The tribes can sniff out why someone is asking for their attention.

FAITH VS RELIGION:

If you watch kids learning dyno (rock climbing) you’ll see that the secret to developing the skill isn’t about building their muscles or learning some exotic technique. It’s merely about developing the faith that it’ll work. Without faith, the leap never works.

There are countless religions in our lives. The religion of Broadway determines what a musical is supposed to look and feel like. The religion of the MBA standard curriculum and perceptions of what is successful.

Religion gives our faith a little support when it needs it.

Religion at its best is a sort of mantra, a subtle but consistent reminder that belief is OK, and that faith is the way to get where you’re going.

Religion at its worst reinforces the status quo, often at the expense of our faith.

Sticking, without variation, to principles prevented them from turning it into a new better kind of experience.

Heretics challenge a given religion, but do it from a very strong foundation of faith. In order to lead, you must challenge the status quo of the religion you’re living under.

Successful heretics create their own religion. New group of friends, new supporters, new rituals.

Recognize the need for faith in your idea. Find the tribe you need to support you and create a new religion around your faith.

When you fall in love with a system, you lose the ability to grow.

STATUS QUO vs BEING FIRST:

Leadership almost always involves thinking and acting like the underdog. That’s because leaders work to change things, and the people who are winning rarely do.

Leaders go first. Initiating : see something others are ignoring and jump on it. Cause the events that others have to react to. Make change.

Everyone believes that what they’ve got is probably better than the risk and fear that come with change.

At first, the new thing is rarely as good as the old thing was. If you need the alternative to be better than the status quo from the very start, you’ll never begin. Soon enough, the new thing will be better than the old thing. But if you wait until then, it’s going to be too late.

This isn’t about having a great idea. The great ideas are out there, for free, on your neighborhood blog. This is about taking initiative and making things happen.

Getting out first and staking out the new territory almost always pays off.

When you hire amazing people and give them freedom, they do amazing stuff.

The biggest step comes from anyone who teachers or hires. Embrace non-sheep behavior. Reward and cherish it.

MICRO-MOVEMENT KEY ELEMENTS:

1. Publish a manifesto. Give it away and make it easy for the manifesto to spread far and wide. It doesn’t have to be printed or even written. Bit it’s a mantra and a motto and a way of looking at the world. It unites your tribe members and gives them a structure.

2. Make it easy for your followers to connect with you. It could be as simple as visiting you or emailing you or watching you on TV. Or it could be as rich and complex as interacting with you on Facebook or Ning.

3. Make it easy for your followers to connect with one another. There’s that little nod that one restaurant regular gives to another recognized regular. Or the shared drink in an airport lounge. Even better is the camradarie developed by volunteers on a political campaign or insiders involved in a new product launch. Great leaders figure out how to make these interactions happen.

4. Realize that money is not the point of a movement. Money exists merely to enable it. The moment you try to cash out is the moment you stunt the growth of your movement.

5. Track your progress. Do it publicly and create pathways for your followers to contribute to that progress.

PRINCIPLES:

1. Transparency really is your only option. Every failed televangelist has learned this the hard way. The people who follow you aren’t stupid. You might go down in scandal or more likely from ennui. People can smell subterfuge from a mile away.

2. Your movement needs to be bigger than you. An author and his book, for example, don’t constitute a movement. Changing the way people applly to college does.

3. Movements that grow, thrive. Every day they get better and more powerful. You’ll get there soon enough. Don’t mortgage today just because you’re in a hurry.

4. Movements are made most clear when compared to the status quo or to movements that work to push the other direction. Movements do less well when compared to other movements with similar goals. Instead of beating them, join them.

5. Exclude outsiders. Exclusion is an extremely powerful force for loyalty and attention. Who isn’t part of your movement matters almost as much as who is.

6. Tearing others down is never as helpful to a movement as building your followers up.

The customer service staff shows up and follows the handbook and treats every customer the same, then can’t figure out why they’re being disrespected in return.

Be willing to be wrong. Realize that wrong isn’t fatal.

The secret of leadership : paint a picture of the future. Go there.

It’s OK to abandon the big, established, stuck tribe. It’s OK to say, “You’re not going where I need to go, and there’s no way I’m going to persuade all of you to follow me. So rather than standing here watching the opportunities fade away, I’m heading off. I’m betting some of you, the best of you, will follow me.”

You can build a bigger, faster, cheaper tribe than you used to be able to. Transaction costs are falling while the costs of formal organizations (offices, benefits, management) keep increasing.

Many big organizations are getting bigger as a way of fighting off the power of the tribes. Hoping that formal nature of their bigness will somehow successfully fight off flexible, fast, and sometimes free power of the tribe. (Very unlikely.)

If you hear my idea but don’t believe it, that’s not your fault – it’s mine. If you are a student in my class and you don’t learn what I’m teaching, I’ve let you down.

It’s really easy to insist that people read the manual. It’s really easy to blame the user/student/customer for not trying hard, for being too stupid to get it, for not caring enough to pay attention. It’s tempting to blame those in your tribe who aren’t working as hard at following as you are at leading. But none of this is helpful.

If no one cares, then you have no tribe. If you don’t care – really and deeply care – then you can’t possibly lead.

Leaders create a culture around their goal and involve others in that culture.

People want to be sure you heard what they said. They’re less focused on whether or not you do what they said. Listen. Really listen. Then decide and move on.

Find one person who trusts you and sell him a copy. Does he love it? Is he excited about it? Excited enough to tell 10 friends because it helps them, not because it helps you?

Tribes grow when people recruit other people. That’s how ideas spread as well. The tribe doesn’t do it for you, of course. They do it for each other.

A big part of leadership is the ability to stick with the dream for a long time. Long enough that the critics realize that you’re going to get there one way or another – so they follow.

People don’t believe what you tell them. They rarely believe what you show them. Then often believe what their friends tell them. They always believe what they tell themselves. What leaders do : give people stories they can tell themselves. Stories about the future and about change.

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