#but an essay test? small potatoes

[somesuchnonsense]

once again finding that an academic task I’ve dreaded and avoided for a week is actually manageable and yes, in fact, is engaging and enjoyable and fun

#it’s a take home exam about repairing and restoring wood furniture #so you know #but I read the questions last week and went ‘ugh how am I ever going to get this done’ #and now on the night before it’s due #I’m doing each question one by one (you know…the way you take tests) #and finding writing the required information out in paragraph form is actually something I’m good at end enjoy #like ugh part of it is executive dysfunction of a sort #and part of it is that so much of this course has been challenging me in new and uncomfortable ways #but an essay test? small potatoes #I’m just mad I waited this long to get into it and get it done

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Rosegarden Week Nov 22🌹Day 1: School

Time has ceased to have any meaning @rosegardenweek. This is from @mcmystery‘s prompt week. It’s an AU where Oscar and Ruby go to the same school: Beacon

Ruby had really thought she’d had studying for her classes down. She usually scheduled some study time with at least one other person to keep her from getting distracted and they didn’t stop for about an hour.

But then Yang came in and started talking about this new block party that was going on in town and how there would be free food and who could turn that down? They must have stayed until two in the morning. Which meant she had no time to do anything by the time she woke up ten minutes before her first class.

And now she was in her second class of the day: Professor Peach’s.

Ruby didn’t have anything against Professor Rosalie Peach. The technology-minded professor was considered to be one of Beacon’s brightest, and spent more time in the field than any of the professors. And her weapon was so cool!

But Ruby’s least favorite thing about Professor Peach?

Her quizzes.

The woman was a test-giving maniac!

Sometimes, she’d just blitz her students with a quiz containing some crazy questions that had barely anything to do with being a huntress!

Why hadn’t she studied more!?

Ruby stared down at her test, anxiety crawling further up her back as she read the question.

You are standing by a well when a beowolf attacks a nearby town. But there’s a puppy trapped in the well. How do you proceed?

Ruby nibbled the end of her pencil.

A puppy in a well while a beowolf attacked!? How did the poor puppy get in the well? And what kind of puppy was it? And why was the beowolf attacking the town? Didn’t they usually move in packs?

And why did it have to be an essay question?! What was wrong with multiple choice?

Wait… multiple choice?

Ruby flipped back to the first page of her booklet, where she had hastily scribbled in C for every answer.

Dammit!

Everyone did that. There was no way Professor Peach would even give her a D if she did that for a test.

Taking her eraser, Ruby rubbed viciously at the paper, hoping not to smudge everything or tear the paper.

And she was trying so hard that the eraser out of her grip and shooting into the head of the person sitting in front of her.

Great, Ruby thought, like I was popular with everyone before.

The student in front of her turned around, rubbing the back of his head.

Ruby froze.

She had thought she was the youngest person at Beacon, but this boy had to be her junior by a year or two. He was tanned (though freckled liberally) with a pair of hazel eyes that flitted around the room before landing on her.

“Sorry,” Ruby said in a stage whisper, “but… um… my eraser?”

She pointed down to where it had fallen after hitting the boy.

With a small smile, the boy leaned down and picked up her eraser to hold out to her.

“Here,” he said, “just relax. You’ll do fine.”

Ruby must have been having a heart attack because she was having palpitations as the boy turned back around in his seat.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

“And then, the entire cafeteria went ballistic! It was like a war zone in there—Ruby?”

Ruby jolted out of stirring gravy into her mashed potatoes. Three pairs of eyes gazed at her from beside the lunch table.

“What?”

“You usually take over at this part,” Yang said, “about the food fight at Signal? The one with the walnuts?”

Ruby remembered that one. But she wasn’t really in any mind to tell it. She was too busy being distracted by… whatever went on in Professor Peach’s class.”

“Did something happen today, Ruby?” Blake asked.

“No,” Ruby said, probably smiling way too big to be normal.

“You’ve been distracted since Professor Peach’s last test,” said Weiss.

“I’m fine,” Ruby said, “I just need to eat more beans.”

Yes, that would fix everything. Beans were good for your heart. If she ate enough of them, then she wouldn’t have to deal with any more heart palpitations that day.

“Boy,” Yangs said, “you’re cagey today.”

Ruby almost choked on the bite of corn she’d just spooned into her mouth.

“Boy!?” she sputtered, thumping her chest, “What boy? There’s no boy?”

To her horror, Yang’s face changed from confused to a knowing smirk and Ruby braced herself for the oncoming assault.

“Awww, my baby sister’s in love.”

“I don’t have time for love!” Ruby said, throwing up her hands, “I have classes and then when I graduate, I’m going to be a huntress, so I’ll always be on missions…”

“Those sound like the excuses of someone who’s in love,” Yang said. The grin never left her face even as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“I have to wonder what kind of boy would catch Ruby’s eye,” Weiss said, putting a finger to her chin in thought.

“No boy has caught my eye,” Ruby said, hoping that at least Weiss would see some sense.

“You should probably try to befriend him first,” Blake said.

“Befriend who first?” Jaune asked, as he and the rest of his team sat down at their table.

“The boy she likes,” Yang said.

“Ruby like a boy!?” Nora all but shouted.

“NO!” Ruby cried, hopefully making sure anyone who had overheard Nora got the message, “I don’t like any boy!”

“Then do you like a girl?”

“No!”

Ruby gave a body rattling sigh. Hopefully, when she explained everything, they would understand that she was definitely not in love with anyone.

“I accidentally hit the back of a boy’s head in class with my eraser during Professor Peach’s test, he gave it back to me and told me I was doing fine, I had a heart attack and that’s it!”

“You had… a heart attack?” Weiss asked, incredulous.

“My heart sped up!” Ruby insisted.

For about a minute, no-one at the table spoke and Ruby thought that would be the end of it. Until someone cleared their throat.

“Ruby,” Pyrrha finally broke the silence, “that’s not a heart attack. People’s hearts often speed up when they like someone.”

“I knew it!” Yang cried, leaning in close.

“Who is he?”

“I told you,” Ruby said, “I don’t kno—”

Ruby paused, her eyes going wide as she saw a familiar back-of-a-head across the room.

“Him,” she pointed. Everyone else at the table followed Ruby’s finger to where to lone figure sat, eating a bowl of something.

“Wow, you’re aiming high.” Yang said.

Ruby frowned.

“What? Who is he?”

“That’s Oscar Pine,” Ren said.

“Oscar who?”

“Oscar Pine,” said Blake, “He’s Ozpin’s new apprentice. Apparently, Ozpin wants Pine to be the next headmaster.”

Ruby looked back at the boy, who was soon joined by Professor Ozpin with his own lunch.

Oscar Pine, she thought to herself.

Her heart sped up again.

#my writing #rosegarden week 2022 #rg week nov 2022 #RWBY #AU

[rockislandadultreads]

National Grilling Month: Cookbook Recommendations

Master of the Grill edited by America’s Test Kitchen

Part field guide to grilling and barbecuing and part cookbook, Master of the Grill features a wide variety of kitchen-tested recipes for meat, poultry, seafood, vegetables, pizza, and more. These are the recipes everyone should know how to make— the juiciest burgers, barbecue chicken that’s moist not tough, tender grill-smoked pork ribs, the greatest steak (and grilled potatoes to serve alongside). Regional specialties are included, too—learn how to make Cowboy Steaks, Alabama BBQ Chicken, and Kansas City Sticky Ribs. Colorful photography captures the beauty of the recipes and step-by-step shots guide you through everything you need to know. A section on grilling essentials covers the pros and cons of gas and charcoal grills and which might be right for you, as well as the tools you’ll use with them— such as grill brushes, tongs, vegetable baskets, and wood chips and chunks.

How to Grill Everything by Mark Bittman

Here’s how to grill absolutely everything—from the perfect steak to cedar-plank salmon to pizza—explained in Mark Bittman’s trademark simple, straightforward style. Featuring more than 250 recipes and hundreds of variations, plus Bittman’s practical advice on all the grilling basics, this book is an exploration of the grill’s nearly endless possibilities. Recipes cover every part of the meal, including appetizers, seafood, meat and poultry, vegetables (including vegetarian mains), and even desserts. Plenty of quick, high-heat recipes will get dinner on the table in short order (Spanish-Style Garlic Shrimp, Green Chile Cheeseburgers); low and slow “project” recipes (Texas-Style Smoked Brisket, Pulled Pork with Lexington BBQ Sauce) are ideal for leisurely weekend cookouts. You’ll also find unexpected grilled treats like avocado, watermelon, or pound cake, and innovative surprises—like how to cook paella or bake a whole loaf of bread on the grill—to get the most out of every fire.

Grilling Vegan Style by John Schlimm

Nothing says summer more than a feast hot off the barbecue. Grilling Vegan Style serves up backyard cooking and entertaining like never before. Running the gamut from plant-based appetizers, salads, sides, kabobs, and burgers to main dishes, desserts, and, of course, cocktails, John Schlimm also demonstrates the art of grilling faux meats, with key info on everything you need for proper heat and the best taste. With color photographs throughout, this cookbook ensures that the magic of a summer barbecue or a night around the campfire can ignite your taste buds all year long.

Rodney Scott’s World of BBQ by Rodney Scott

Rodney Scott was born with barbecue in his blood. He cooked his first whole hog, a specialty of South Carolina barbecue, when he was just eleven years old. At the time, he was cooking at Scott's Bar-B-Q, his family's barbecue spot in Hemingway, South Carolina. Now, four decades later, he owns one of the country's most awarded and talked-about barbecue joints, Rodney Scott's Whole Hog BBQ in Charleston.

In this cookbook, co-written by award-winning writer Lolis Eric Elie, Rodney spills what makes his pit-smoked turkey, barbecued spare ribs, smoked chicken wings, hush puppies, Ella's Banana Puddin', and award-winning whole hog so special. Moreover, his recipes make it possible to achieve these special flavors yourself, whether you're a barbecue pro or a novice. From the ins and outs of building your own pit to poignant essays on South Carolinian foodways and traditions, this stunningly photographed cookbook is the ultimate barbecue reference. It is also a powerful work of storytelling. In this modern American success story, Rodney details how he made his way from the small town where he worked for his father in the tobacco fields and in the smokehouse, to the sacrifices he made to grow his family's business, and the tough decisions he made to venture out on his own in Charleston.

#cookbooks #cooking #grilling #Food and Drink #nonfiction #Nonfiction Reading #nonfiction books #nonfiction reads #Library Books #Book Recommendations #book recs #Reading Recs #reading recommendations #TBR pile #tbr #tbrpile #to read #Want To Read #Booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

[halleyscomment]

An Essay on Human Existence and Its Symbiotic Relationship with Standardized Testing

Synergism: The combined action of two or more which have a greater total effect than the sum of their individual effects. — New Webster’s Dictionary

What is the basis of human existence? Why do we exist? How can one measure the worth of their singular existence?

From this point on I will unite humankind under the name of Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains. This name will be synonymous with humanity. AS you can see, using this nomenclature, it is much easier to think of humanity as a singular person who walks, talks, and acts as one Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains. It is also a lot easier for me to type Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains than it is to type ‘humanity’ over and over again. My reason for doing this will become startlingly clear by the conclusion of this essay.

Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains is a multi-dimensional 4th grade school teacher somewhere in eastern Idaho. She makes ends-meet by working nights on a potato farm where she is in charge of a small group of one-legged pirates who have circumnavigated the globe a total of 56 revolutions. One of the pirates has a talking parrot named Willy Fatima, a creature that Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains loathes. Her crowning achievement was finding a suitor for her daughter, Anastasia Fruitsandgrains who has taken the married name of her husband, Jethro Wilkes.

In order to determine whether or not Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains is living a justifiable existence it is pertinent to administer a standardized test to her late husband, Georgia Fruitsandgrains who we can reach with the aid of a maniacal sadist living in apartment 3B on Bettemidler Road somewhere in the grassy knolls of Wisconsin who goes by the name Ivan Herdowitzacraft.

The questions that will be asked will be determined by a group of 540 convicted drunk drivers who have cheated on their wives and have run countless industries and various organizations into the ground.

Questions involving the number of sexual partners, number of complete outfits designed by well-to-do designers, weight, sexual preference, wealth, 3rd grade report cards, meals eaten that cost less than $12 and shoe size will be well within the parameters of the test since they are all relevant to Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains and her soon-to-be-determined yay or nay existence.

Results of the test will be furnished to her for $16.95 and seven deities of her choice; additional gods or goddesses $4.95ea.

Without such standardized testing Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains would die at the ripe old age of 87 after surviving a ho-hum existence. If the test is administered at the age of 21 and again at 46.5, it is possible that Mrs. Jezabella Fruitsandgrains could have boosted her score from a miserable 3.678 Life Worth Points to a more respectable 5.789 LWPs ergo realizing her maximum potential LWPs for her existence aboard planet Earth.

In conclusion, it is easy for one to conceive that such a test would be an economical solution to the worldwide problem of the ever-decreasing stockpile of fossil fuels. Hurling millions upon millions of fuel regenerating bodies upon a heap of humanity who have been devastated by the cruel realization that they’re not ‘making it.’

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x teen!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #tw: eating disorder

[getosugaru]

Whispering Confessions

Kuroo Tetsuro was drooling. On your chest specifically. Your navy hoodie acquiring a darkening patch as his saliva wettened the fabric. This wasn’t a one time occurence, you knew your boyfriend drooled, though it was only ever so slightly, never drenching you, your clothes or the bedsheets either of you slept on.

And frankly, it was cute.

His mouth at your stomach whilst his forehead rested against your breast, a soft cushion for him. His spiky hair had softened throughout the day and flopped against his forehead, covering both his eyes. A very rare sight indeed. Warm breath fanned through your hoodie as he breathed gently. He was so peaceful when he slept.

The scheming captain; a talkative, loud, hyena cackling male, was able to experience tranquility only when he was with you (or Kenma) and whilst he slept. His lashes were long, blurring with the onyx of his bedhead. His cheeks soft and squishy as you ran a thumb against them. Kuroo’s arms wound around your waist, hugging you like he would his pillow. Lanky legs draped across your own, causing pins and needles to erupt hours later as he still embraced you. 

You chuckled softly at the sight before you. As mature as he acted, he still drooled as if he was a small child. Kuroo would only deny it if you ever brought it up and would delete any photos you had dared to take. But, in all honesty, you were glad that this vulnerable side of Kuroo was only visible to you.

You began to run your fingers through his thick, dark locks, massaging the scalp. It had been a long day filled with volleyball practice, science tests and the English essays Kuroo dreaded. The exhaustion hit him as soon as he entered your room, dropping onto you like a sack of potatoes, earning a small ‘oomph’ from you. 

‘Power nap and then I’ll give you my everything.’ he had sighed.

‘10 mins maximum, Kitten.’ he had said.

Yet, you hadn’t the heart to wake him from his peaceful slumber, even 2 hours after his proposed deadline.

As you played with his hair, he nuzzled into your chest even more, legs tangled with yours. You stroked his locks once, twice, then -

He purred.

Humming, a smile appeared on his beautiful face, a sweet dream perhaps or more likely, from your subtle actions.

Nevertheless, it was the most adorable thing you had ever witnessed.

You yourself smiled in return, though he couldn’t see it. You were so happy. With him, Kuroo Tetsuro. A man you loved much, much more than yourself.

He was the brightest star in the array of constellations. He was the greatest flame dancing in a bonfire. He was your favourite song as it appeared in your shuffled playlist. He was the feeling when you read your favourite book for the upteemth time. He was a summer’s breeze, a winter’s first snow. He was gravity as he pulled you in, in, in like the moon pulled the tide towards its enchanting beauty.

He was the air you breathed itself; oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide and more elements you didn’t have the brainpower to remember. He was everything and more.

And in the end, he was yours. Drooling, purring, sleeping against you, but yours nonetheless.

‘I love you Tetsuro.’ 

A small whispered confession whilst he slept, your body erupted with butterflies.

He seemed to snuggle you further and you decided it was time to fall into unconsciousness too.

There was always tomorrow for him to give you his everything.

You closed your eyes. Fingers slowing their movements in his hair to a smooth stop.

For you would wait till the end of the universe for this man if you had to.

#kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo fluff #kuroo hq #haikyuu #kuroo imagine #kuroo is the love of my life #he genuinely is the most beautiful man ever #i love him #i love his smile #i love his hair #and i especially love his hyena laugh

[bwbatta]

three - all bets on

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship, right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: lil bit of swearing, lil bit of angst, lil bit of jealous Draco

Word count: 3825

A/N: GET READY (this ones a big boi) taglist for this series is still open and so is a permanent taglist for my other work (HP or not!), so let me know if you’re interested in any of them! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 4

“(Y/N)” 

A voice whispered loudly from behind you, trying to get your attention as you tried to ignore it.

“Psst, (Y/N)... (Y/N)!”

You were doing a spectacular job of ignoring the whisperer who desperately was trying to get your attention, but your patience ran thin when a sharp pain ran through your back.

“Ow!” you hissed, turning around with your eyes blazing “Did you just stab me with your quill?!”

“...It was really more of a poke to be completely honest”

You shot an angry glare towards the red headed boy who now looked quite sheepish.

“What do you want, Ron?” You asked annoyed

He shared a look with Harry who sat next to him and both looked hesitant to say anything, which of course only made you more impatient.

“Well? Are you going to ask me a question because I’d rather like to get this finished so I can leave to get dinner”

“Have you shagged, Malfoy?”

“Ron!”

Both Harry and you looked at Ron with varying expressions, yours was complete shock and Harry’s was a mix of slight embarrassment and curiosity.

“No, I haven’t shagged him” you narrowed your eyes towards the pair. “And even if I had, it would be none of your business”

“Are you sure you’re not being forced into dating him?” Harry questioned with a concerned look “We can help you if you are!”

“While I appreciate the help you’d offer, the answer is no. I’m not being forced into dating him” you sent the pair a glare “I’m dating Draco because I really like him”

“Well that’s a lie,” Ron scoffed “no one likes Malfoy”

“Well, okay, I agree that’s true” you shrugged “I actually love him”

“What?!”

Turning back round to finish your work, you tried to conceal the smile on your face as the two boys started pestering you again, trying to get your attention when suddenly a note landed on your desk.

The note was folded like a bird, and had been obviously charmed to act as such, as it jumped around your desk like a small robin would do.

Curious, you opened it up and immediately a smile spread across your face as you read the message.

“(Y/N),

Can I copy down your notes later? If yes, I adore you. If no, what do I have to bargain with this time? 

Also fancy dinner in the kitchens tonight? I’ve got an idea.

Draco

P.S pretend this is a cute love letter or something to piss Potter and Weasley off”

Your eyes shot over to the blonde who was already staring at you with a grin on his face.

You sent a smile of your own back, nodding to him, signalling he could copy your notes later. Thinking quickly, you also went one step further and blew him a kiss.

Draco’s cheeks blushed a little but the look he sent you could’ve melted you right where you sat.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve described it as true heart eyes. 

But you did know better. 

He was just acting.

It also seemed to do the trick as Ron stabbed you in the back again with his quill, breaking your concentration from each other. You whirled around again with a glare in place.

“Stop stabbing me with your quill” you hissed

“Is that note from Malfoy?” Harry asked trying to get a look at it

“It might be”

“What does it say?” Ron questioned

“Why are you so curious? Jealous I’m getting love letters and you’re not?” you sent him a smirk 

“So it’s a love letter?” Harry asked slight disgusted at the thought of you getting one from Malfoy.

“Yes, it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dinner with my boyfriend, who I love very much” 

Picking up your books, you stuffed your papers inside your bag and stood up, making your way to the door where Draco was conveniently waiting. 

The fact he was going to copy your notes later, meant as soon as he saw you pack up to leave, he jumped up, his own bag already packed, ready to join you down in the kitchens for dinner.

Harry and Ron sat watching you wander over to Draco with a grin on your face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple to rile up the two Gryffindor boys.

“Ready to go?” your fake boyfriend asked you with a smile to which you nodded, eager for food away from prying eyes and curious questions.

The two of you made your way down to the kitchens, talking about what you were hungry for and before you knew it, a huge plate of a roast dinner was placed in front of you.

“Oh my,” you practically drooled “look how pretty this is”

“I hope you have the same reaction when you see me?” Draco joked

“Unless you suddenly turn into a plate of food, it’s a no, sorry honey”

“Maybe not a plate of food, but I am a snack”

You did not address the comment, only sent him an amused look which he smirked proudly at getting some sort of reaction from you. 

The two of you dug into your meals, chatting about absolute nonsense gossip you’d heard throughout the day. Apparently you’d missed Seamus Finnegan blowing up not only his own water goblet, but the rest of Gryffindor table’s, trying to turn it into Firewhiskey when you were in the Library.

Through a mouthful of roast potato, you suddenly made an exclamation like you’d suddenly remembered something, catching the blonde boy’s attention.

“Yes?” he asked amused at you trying to swallow your food quick enough to say something before you forgot your thought process.

“What was your idea you mentioned earlier?” you finally managed to ask. “The one you mentioned in your note?”

“Ahh” he began as he set down his knife and fork “I have an idea about something we can do to make people believe we’re a couple more?”

“Go on?” You asked curious, taking another bite of your food

“We could make out?”

Well, you didn’t expect that.

And the fact you were now choking on your mouthful, showed that perfectly well.

Draco patted your back as you trying to regain your breath. Finally able to swallow your food, you took a gulp of water to clear your mouth.

“Sorry” you muttered

“No worries, if I knew you were going to react like that I would’ve prepared you” he grinned at your embarrassment.

“Piss off”

You rolled your eyes at him before locking his gaze with your own unamused look.

“So?” He pressed

“Um... yeah, I guess that could work”

You fiddled with your sleeve as you tried to pull off an unbothered expression, when all you could now think about in your head was the fact you’d be kissing your best friend.

“Right?! That’s what I was thinking! No one would be able to deny we weren’t dating after we’d kiss in the Great Hall or something where everyone could see.”

“Yeah” you collected yourself and yanked yourself back into your confident persona “I mean, go big or go home right?! All bets on.”

“Exactly” he nodded in agreement “We do this and everyone will believe it”

You mirrored his nod and shot him a smile, hiding your nervousness immaculately. If there was one thing you could do, it was hide your true emotions.

“Yeah... everyone”

“Hey, when’s the potions essay due again?”

“Tomorrow”

“...Shit”

Hermione gave you an unamused stare as you sat across from her in the Gryffindor common room.

The witch had made you promise to study with her for the test Flitwick had set for charms, especially since neither Harry nor Ron felt it urgent to do so.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about it?!”

“Nope, it was totally intentional for me to leave an entire essay due to do the night before” you shrugged sarcastically causing Hermione to send you another of her stares. 

To be completely honest, you probably would’ve done it last night if Draco hadn’t taken you to the kitchens for dinner. You two ended up staying there for the rest of the evening, partly for the instant snacks from the house elves, partly because you two just enjoyed each others company more than anyone else. You had to admit though, the pumpkin pasties were worth it.

“Well don’t come running to me for help when you need it” Hermione miffs “I told you to get it done as soon as it was set otherwise you’ll forget it, and look what’s happened? You’ve-”

“Forgotten it, yes okay, thank you. You getting a good view up there from your high horse?!”

“Don’t be silly” 

Hermione went to say something else but was interrupted.

“Hey, (Y/N)”

Lee Jordan smiled at you effortlessly as you sent him a smile back, slightly confused as to why he was there in the first place. He looked slightly nervous when you looked closer, his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve.

“Hi, Lee. You alright?”

“Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you something, if you’re not busy?”

“Go ahead, I’m not doing anything interesting”

An annoyed scoff from the witch sitting opposite you said different.

Lee’s eyes flicked between the two of you before they settled back on you.

“I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me?”

You were confused. Surely everyone, especially Lee because of the twins, knew you were going out with Draco. It had been all anyone had asked you about for the past week.

“Um... I actually was going to go with Draco” you told him slowly “You know, my boyfriend?”

“Yeah but that’s not actually true is it?!” Lee laughed a little like the idea was preposterous. “I mean come on, you don’t actually like the guy, right?”

You bristled slightly at the way Lee spoke about Draco. Sure, the boy was an wanker to most of the Gryffindors, if not all of them, but he wasn’t a truly bad person. 

Most of the way he acts is down to how he was raised by his parents, and after meeting Lucius one summer, you could understand why.

“Nope, I actually love the guy, which is part of the reason why I’m his girlfriend”

“You love him?!” Hermione jumped in, just as surprised as Lee

The tone Hermione used also didn’t sit right with you 

“Yep, we’re super in love” you grinned at her unfazed, not showing any hesitation about the subject. “So as nice as your offer is, Lee, I’ll have to turn it down, sorry”

The boy looked taken aback as if he thought you wouldn’t turn him down.

“Right, well, okay. Sorry to bother you” Lee smiled at you which you returned before he walked away.

You were still slightly shocked that Lee had just asked you out, when it was pretty much common knowledge for everyone in the castle, that you were in a relationship. 

It solidified the point that Draco and you needed to make it more convincing though. 

Nonetheless you turned back to your study notes, hoping to put this from your mind, but before any more studying could be done, the notes were snatched away.

“Nope, you’re not doing anything else until you tell me what’s really going on”

Laughing slightly you rolled your eyes at the dramatics of your friend. 

“Really?!”

“Really! And despite the fact you somehow think I’m stupid-”

“You’re far from stupid, Mione-”

“Shhh” she actually shushed you as you interrupted her causing you to snort under your breath. “You really didn’t think I wouldn’t pick up on how Malfoy just so happens to not make any more insulting comments towards me?”

“Like I’ve told you before, he’s not a bad person and it’s not a huge change-”

“Yes it is!”

You stilled slightly at the conviction in her voice, words dying on your tongue before you could even utter them.

“He used to call me a mudblood every time we were in the same room, (Y/N). Now he nods to me and actually acts like I’m not some piece of dirt on his shoe? Somethings up.”

You never thought the dynamic between the two was really that bad, so you found yourself not really knowing what to say. Hermione continued regardless of your silence.

“I know you don’t know how much he used to insult me, or torment me because regardless of anything, the boy absolutely adores you so much so he would bite his tongue whenever you were in the room. Though now he’s actively going out of his way to be civil with me, even when you’re not around? I don’t trust it.”

Again, you were at a loss for words. But overwhelmingly you felt like a terrible friend.

“Hermione... I didn’t know it was that bad between you”

“Well it is, or was” she shook her head as if to centre her thoughts. “Look, fine, don’t tell me what’s going on, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful of what?” you asked confused as to what she was talking about now.

Sighing heavily, Hermione grabbed her books and started to pile them up. Standing up she paused, letting her eyes rest on you as you could tell she was debating what to say to you.

“Just be careful you don’t get caught up in whatever game you’re playing too much” 

With that being said, the witch turned and headed towards the Gryffindor girl’s dormitories, no more words said between the two of you. The ones last said being enough to linger in your head.

“Hey, Sweetheart”

You were surprised for a second which showed on your face before you quickly gathered yourself and sent a dazzling smile back to the blonde who had sat down next to you.

Hermione’s words had been on your mind since the previous night, enough to distract you as you were up, attempting to write your essay in the small hours of the night. You were exhausted, but somehow seeing Draco had made you feel just that little bit better.

“Morning” you replied, blushing slightly as Draco pressed a kiss to your temple (which was now becoming a normal thing for him to do), and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“You two are awfully cosy this morning” Blaise remarked as he took the seat opposite.

“What, am I not allowed to sit with my girlfriend for breakfast and show her some affection?!” Draco asked whilst grabbing a few slices of bacon from the buffet in front of him.

“Never said you weren’t” Blaise rolled his eyes at his best mate “just that you guys are disgustingly close”

“Aww thanks Blaise” you smiled at him innocently, clutching your coffee mug close to your chest, as he shot you a look which made you chuckle.

Pulling you closer to him, Draco leaned down to your ear to stage whisper loud enough so the boy opposite could hear.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just jealous he’s single and doesn’t have someone to kiss in the morning”

“Alright, piss off you two. If (Y/N) wanted to go out with anyone I had hoped it would’ve been me, but I’ll live” Blaise joked as you chuckled along with him. 

Draco sent his friend an amused look.

“Stop hitting on my girl, Zabini”

“Yeah yeah, I’m just joking” the wizard rolled his eyes at the Malfoy boy as the two of you shared a chuckle. This was until a prominent thought popped into your head.

“Oh, guess what happened last night?” you asked the blonde wizard who sent you an inquisitive glance as he took a bite out of a slice of toast. “Lee Jordan asked me out.”

At once, Draco’s face dropped it’s curious expression to form one of annoyance and agitation. 

“What?!” he practically hissed. “Does he not know you have a boyfriend?”

“Apparently, he thought it was a joke” you told him, eyes quickly assessing his reaction.

Leaning into you and pressing his forehead to your temple, it would’ve looked couple-y to anyone else but it just meant he could whisper to you so no one else would hear.

“What did you say?” he whispered 

“I said that I was your girlfriend” you whispered back, playing with his fingers of the hand wrapped around your shoulder. “I let him know I was taken, don’t worry.”

“But I am worrying (Y/N), he doesn’t know it’s a joke!”

“...Are you jealous? Offended someone else asked me out?”

“No! I just don’t like people asking out my girlfriend”

You turned your head so both your foreheads rested together. Resting your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushed over his cheekbone as his gaze met yours.

“I’m yours okay... for however long you want me to be your fake girlfriend” you caught yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I’m all in.”

Draco felt a smile creep up on his lips and he could help but take you in. You had this calming aura around you, which he felt like was almost soothing his soul just being next to you. 

He found it addicting.

A cough from opposite the table caught your attention and both your eyes snapped over to Blaise how pointedly looked towards the entrance of the Great Hall.

Catching sight of Pansy entering the hall, eyes darting round, no doubt looking for the blonde boy next to you, you couldn’t help the noise of irritation which left your lips.

Draco smiled at the sound, enjoying the fact you were as annoyed as him when it came to the girl. He pulled you closer to him, slotting you under his arm as you wrapped your own arm around his waist in turn tucking yourself into his side.

“Bitch incoming” you muttered under your breath

Draco snorted under his breath before rolling his eyes at the smile Pansy sent him as she wandered over to the three of you.

“Oh Merlin” Blaise groaned as she took the seat next to him, opposite from you.

“Hi guys”

“Is there some reason you’re sitting with us?” you found yourself asking as the girl shot you a snide glare.

“I just wanted to sit with my friends, is that such a crime?”

“What friends?” Blaise muttered loud enough for everyone present to hear.

“Pansy, we’d rather eat without your face putting us off our food” Draco shrugged.

Pansy eyed the arm holding you securely to him with a look of envy and disgust, like it was disturbing her immensely.

“Oh Drakey, don’t be mean, where else am I meant to go?!”

“If you ask nicely, the pound might take you back” you joked which earned you amused snorts from both boys.

Any expression on her face, which was put on for politeness, dropped instantly and Pansy glared at you like looks could kill.

“So first you steal my boyfriend and then you insult me?”

“I wasn’t your boyfriend, I will never be your boyfriend” Draco sighed like the topic was getting old.

“And then,” Pansy continued, completely disregarding the Malfoy boy’s comment, “you think you can just play around with a rumour that you two are together, and everyone’s just going to believe it? Come on, I haven’t even seen you two kiss. This little act you’re putting on might just ruin that friendship of yours.”

There was no doubt about it, Pansy Parkinson was jealous, vengeful and relentless. 

You knew convincing her would be the biggest problem of this whole plan but that’s exactly what you needed to do; convince her.

With this in mind, you sat up straight and looked her dead in the eyes.

“You don’t believe us because we haven’t kissed in front of you?”

“I think the fact that you two haven’t kissed in front of anyone proves you’re just faking it” she shrugged.

“So you want proof?” Draco asked with a scoff “That I would choose (Y/N), a decent, good human being, over you, to be in a relationship with?”

Pansy pulled an expression like her question was obvious.

“Alright, how’s this for proof?”

The arm wrapped around your shoulder changed and Draco cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 

Brushing back a lock of your hair with the other hand, he took a brief moment to study your face, thumb rubbing softly on your cheekbone. Your eyes met his and the same determination was reflected within your own eyes at how much you wanted to show this bitch, that the boy now looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, was yours. 

Leaning down, Draco’s eyes never left yours, looking for any uncertainty, but found none. This gave him the confidence he needed and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

You were certain your brain short circuited. 

His lips were soft but determined, as the kiss you shared started slow, almost finding comfort in each other, before his other hand rose to cup the other side of your face. 

That was when your heart really skipped a beat.

It was like a fire was burning in your chest, almost painfully as you put everything you had into this kiss with Draco, and everything around you drowned out except for the boy in front of you.

He was addicting. 

Draco however, could hardly express how right this kiss felt. 

He really hadn’t expected how your lips would’ve felt until he met them, yet this was better than he could’ve ever predicted. You were all consuming, you were perfect, you were everything.

Holding your face between his hands like you were the most delicate thing, he just sunk into the feeling of kissing you. It was almost like finding something he had been missing.

Like he had been missing kissing you.

Pulling back after what felt like forever, when it could’ve only been seconds? Minutes? Draco wasn’t sure. Time had completely escaped him.

His eyes met yours and it was like the two of you were lost in each other. 

The fact that the two of you were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t see how whispers spread through the Great Hall and soon everyone was watching the pair of you.

You didn’t see how the golden trio shared a look between the three of them, each concerned about you, and how wrapped up you were in Draco. 

You didn’t see how Fred handed George five galleons, an obvious bet having been made between the two of them.

You didn’t notice how Pansy, filled with envy and rage, left the Hall in a strop, Blaise’s amused gaze following her. 

You did however, notice how easy it was to get lost in the blonde wizard.

Especially his lips, and the way he whispered three words against them, not breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m all in.”

Series Taglist: (If you’re in bold I’m unable to tag you for some reason, sorry!)

@weasleytwinswheezes @azkabanlexi @streetfighterrichie @queen-of-the-coven @gdee703 @thatguppienamedbae @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @savcks @remmyswritings @thescarletknight2014 @w0nderr @heyiheardyouwereawildone36 @moonlightorbit @ceeellewrites @nicole-prz @depressedchilipepper @swiftlymoniquesblog @soshitan @pastel-skyline @sokkasdarling @thatdumbbitchxx @emmamarie7708 @idkatee @malfovs @fadesbrina @slytherinxraven @purplewcrld @lauren-100 @lulbabes @s4dthrills @dracoswhore007 @parkeroffline @lord-byron @its-chickenwing-450 @hales-a-bells @loonyslytherin

Draco Taglist:

@torchwoodoctor @crouchless @coldheartedslytherin @a-coffee-bean @ochrythum

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy headcanon #draco x reader #draco imagine #Harry Potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter headcanon #Harry Potter #harry potter series #dating draco malfoy #fake dating draco #hogwarts #harry potter imagine #malfoy x reader

[chalupacabras]

I actually just made eye contact with Him AGAIN as he passed by and that could just be because I command attention with my obviously terrible and very tired "I had 4 espressos in 18 hours" appearance

#and now I have to speak GERMAN #Christiana if you're reading this and I know you are-- #during the semester I spent in school in Berlin I passed a german placement test with 100% comprehension #and failed the shit out of the essay part bc I fucking hate grammar AND artikel #understanding a language with scholarly perfection and sounding like you have an IQ of 10 when you speak it back?? #it's more likely than you think #you know this wracked my nerves the most? out of this whole trip? #everything else was small potatos. it's all about the German babey

[willowbird]

prompt: aaron had a slight ED that he developed as a kid and is now being noticeable to the rest of the foxes even andrew and nicky kinda knew he forgot to eat but the stress from school and exy makes it worse....

I could easily expand on this and maybe one day I will. It hits kinda close to home tho so I’m going to err on the side of brevity just for my own mental space. Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is what you’re looking for ❤️ ❤️ Take care of yourselves!

Warnings for depression, eating disorder. 

Edit: this has been expanded and can also be found on my ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

-----

Wednesday | 6:04am

The alarm was screaming. 

Its cries crashed against his senses like sea-storm waves and Aaron was without shelter. The sound had been crowding him for four minutes now, and he still couldn't lift a hand to make it stop -- even though he was perfectly aware and wide awake. He wanted to stop the sound, he needed the quiet back, but for whatever reason his hand just wouldn't listen to his brain no matter how many times he willed it to move. 

Aaron hated days like this.

Wednesday | 8:43am

Nicky slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, a grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back like a low-budget greaser, halfway between wet and just damp. They’d just finished morning practice and he, Nicky, and Kevin were waiting out in the player’s lobby for Neil and Andrew to finish showering and changing so they could leave.

“Aw man, I am hungry. Please tell me that Andrew and Neil are gonna finish up soon so that we can go get a real breakfast.” Nicky's whining was easy enough to ignore most of the time, but today Aaron was tired and his patience was thin. He had three tests to study for, two essays to write, they had a game coming up on Friday, and Aaron didn't have the bandwidth for Nicky, too.

He shruged his cousin off with a snort. "I'm just gonna hitch a ride to the library." There were still a few hours before his first class of the day, and he needed to use that time for something productive.

"Aww, c'mon Aaron come to breakfast with us! We'll drop you at the library when we're done. It won't take too long!"

"What won't take too long?" When Aaron looked over, he saw Neil and Andrew coming out of the locker room, clean and changed.

"Breakfast!" Nicky announced. "Neil, tell Aaron to join us! It's a family breakfast -- he should be there!"

"You can't just label things "family" events as a way to require people to be there," Kevin said with a long-suffering sigh. Even so, Aaron noticed he already had the menu of their usual breakfast joint pulled up on his phone. The pictures of pancakes topped with glistening syrup and fluffy omelets made his stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

Aaron looked away.

"I've got a shit to do," he said. That would be his final word on it, and to demonstrate, Aaron turned to head toward the doors.

Except Andrew had moved to block him, though Aaron hadn't registered when his twin had circled them. Aaron frowned, lifting his chin in challenge.

Andrew just studied him for a long moment before looking just past Aaron, gaze darting over his shoulder to the others behind him. He lifted a hand and a second later a slim object snapped into it. When Andrew then held it out to him, Aaron saw it was a granola bar.

A quick glance over his shoulder exposed the granola bar thrower as Kevin, who was zipping his backpack shut. They matched gazes briefly and Kevin nodded toward the granola bar in Andrew's hand.

"If you aren't going to come to breakfast with us make sure you get something on your way to the library."

Aaron glared at him, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. Andrew just looked at him, expression blank, and continued to hold out the damn granola bar like he could stand there all day without a care in the world.

A flash of resentment boiled through him. Of course Andrew could stand there so fucking unbothered. Barely anything affected him at all.

With an annoyed huff, Aaron snatched the bar out of Andrew's hand and shoved it into his pocket before stalking out of the building.

Wednesday | 1:15pm

Katelyn ❤️ (13:15): Hey baby! Prof Dixon bailed again ~ you free?

Aa. Min. (13:15): McCallister's?

Katelyn ❤️ (13:16): See u in 5! 😘

Wednesday | 1:23pm

Aaron stood inside the confused cacophony that was McCallister's, an on-campus restaurant that was the love child of a deli and a pub but four times too big, regretting his choices.

It wasn't even the noise that was bothering him the most. It was the smell.

Aaron took two steps into the restaurant and his stomach roiled. It twisted and tightened, curling in on itself in disgust at the sharp, slimy stench of cold cut deli meat cushioned on a waft of double-baked potatoes that filled the restaurant like wildfire's haze. He and Katelyn met here for lunch two or three times a week when their schedules lined up. They both liked the food and they had several corner booths where they could hide in and study together after eating. It was one of their favorite places. But right now, Aaron was fighting not to gag. 

“Aaron!” Relief warred with dread at the sound of Katelyn’s voice and he hastily plastered on an imitation of the smile he usually didn’t even have to think about, that always rose to his lips whenever she was around all on its own. It didn’t today, but for Katelyn he could make the effort. For Katelyn, Aaron could do anything. 

He turned around once that smile was fixed in place and wrapped his arms around her when she joined him, indulging in a quick kiss that soothed some of the nausea churning in his gut. When they broke apart, Aaron turned to lead them toward their usual booth but Katelyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Babe is everything alright?” Worry painted a crease between her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down as she studied him. 

Most days, Katelyn’s concern warmed him. It made him feel seen and loved and cherished. Today it put a slash of anxiety through his lungs, breath seeping out through the cut and concaving his chest under the weight of her scrutiny. 

Aaron arranged his smile into something tired and unalarmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long week, y’know?”

Katelyn hummed like she wasn’t sure she believed him but was deciding to trust him anyway, then she smiled and she released his arm only to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Alright, then let’s get some lunch and shut out the rest of the world for at least a little bit, yeah?”

The smell of the restaurant was still choking him and even his skin felt tight. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was stay there another second, let alone the hour he had until he needed to think about heading to his next class.

“I’m so sorry Kate, I’ve got to meet with the TA for my history class. I remembered right after I texted you but I still wanted to see you so I figured I’d just tell you when you got here.” He offered an apologetic smile and did his best to ignore the way guilt was now mixing uncomfortably well with the sick already sloshing around in his stomach. Aaron did not like lying to Katelyn, it felt wrong. But he also couldn’t... he couldn’t explain what was wrong with him right now -- not because he didn’t know, but because he was sure explaining it was going to make him sound crazy and that was just the last thing he needed right now. It was better to slip away, go somewhere he could focus on homework or something and just... wait for it to pass.

Katelyn’s expression fell, flashing disappointment, then a sad understanding as she nodded. “Of course. It’s okay babe, really. I’m just glad I got to see you at all.” She smiled then -- that bright, warm, just-for-him smile that always had Aaron’s heart skipping. A small knot of tension loosened in his lower chest, just enough that he was able to take a small breath and offer a more genuine smile of his own in return. 

“I love you,” he told her. 

“I love you too, Aaron. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He made no promises before he made his escape, just a smile and a wave.

Wednesday | 3:37pm

The granola bar tasted like ash in his mouth. It felt like there were iron weights attached to his jaw, making it impossible for him to chew. A fist of repulsion locked around his throat, and it was a physical struggle to swallow. 

This was the worst part about days like this.

Aaron knew he had to eat something, because he knew what could happen if he didn’t and the only thing worse than having to put up with feeling this way, dragging himself through the mud of his own psychosis one step, one mile, at a time -- was doing it with everyone watching him struggle. 

So he forced himself through half the granola bar. He knew better than to push for more than that, or all his efforts would be wasted into the nearest trash can.

Wednesday | 7:51pm

Practice had been brutal. It had been so bad that even Nicky hadn’t been able to cheer himself through it and was just as bitter and on edge as the rest of them by the time they hit the showers. 

Aaron sat in the lobby and waited for the others, feeling old. He felt tired. He just wanted these stupid pissing contests to stop and everyone to shut up. He wanted the world to be completely silent, completely empty. Emptiness sounded nice. Sounded peaceful. Sounded right.

The sharp scuff of shoe-rubber against tile had him cringing so hard his shoulders ached and he peeled his eyes open to glare at the source. Andrew stood there, hands in his pockets, blank-faced and too knowing.

Aaron snorted and looked away. 

The couch shifted slightly as Andrew took the spot next to him. There was the soft shk of a blade cutting into something crisp and when Aaron looked over, Andrew was holding out a small sliver of apple. His brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the other Minyard was dispassionately staring at the tv, which was playing some sports channel that Aaron knew very well Andrew didn’t give a single shit about. 

For a long moment Aaron just stared at the side of his twin’s face, but it was impossible to know what, if anything, he was thinking about. Finally, he looked at the sliver of apple. It was pale, small, unobtrusive. Aaron’s stomach clenched, a mix between hunger and repulsion. All he’d had today was that half a granola bar -- which had been both too much and not enough. His throat tightened as he stared at that innocuous slice of fruit, but he was almost focused more on the hand holding it. His eyes burned and he looked away, but not before taking the slice. 

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tw: depression #tw: eating disorder #tw: ed #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #of course i made it a twinyard drabble #because i'm a sucker for the boys supporting each other #going into a small headcanon in the tags here #i hc andrew struggles with food #similar to what aaron goes through here #but more intense #because he has a very complex relationship with food #based on his past #and then the manifestation of his depression does not help #i actually have a wip based on this #from andrew's pov #where we see him dealing with his ed #and the way the monsters support him through it #sometimes his ed crops up due to his depression #and sometimes its separate #anyway #this was an unnecessary a/n in the tags here #but that's why andrew took the approach he did in the drabble #because how he treats aaron in this is how he needs to be handled when he has his own episodes

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Final Exams Week” || YEAR 3 – Ch.33 (HP au)

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Day posted: 12/4/2020

Word count: 3, 416

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather ran her tongue against her front teeth and squinted at the words on the page. The sun was shining down on her stolen potions book and no matter how she moved her head to block it, the glossy ink kept blinding her. She sighed and let her head fall back against the rough bark of the tree she was leaning on.

“Angelina said she’d work all summer to afford a firebolt – ”

“The team would be unstoppable then!”

Heather quickly stuffed the potions book in her bag and stood to face Harry and Ron as they approached. “Won’t you act the least bit disappointed you lost the Quidditch Cup? For me? Just for show.”

Ron nearly tripped and slid down the small hill in his attempt to suppress a laugh. “Just face it Heather. You saw how fast Harry was. Next year Gryffindor will win every match, the Quidditch Cup, and the House Cup. And the year after that, and the one after that. There’s no stopping the firebolt!”

“As if.”

“Catch!” Harry tossed a can of iced pumpkin juice at her. “We’ll get you a firebolt over the summer and then maybe Slytherin might be able to keep up.”

Heather caught it and dropped back onto her spot facing the lake. “You know we can’t afford it. And since we can’t, I think a week of gloating is quite enough from you two. You’ve only won a measly match.”

“Says the losing team,” Ron laughed.

Harry and Ron sat beside her and took out their textbooks.

“I can’t believe it’s almost June.” Harry flipped through the pages of his textbook lazily.

“How’re we supposed to study for our exams with all this homework?” Ron turned the pages one by one while staring at the giant squid as it propelled itself out of the water, twirled, and splashed back down.

Tiny waves crashed on the lake shore as laughter could be heard from the other students basking in the sun on the grassy castle grounds.

Heather picked at the can of ice cold pumpkin juice with her nail, wedged it underneath the tab, and plucked it up hearing the tantalizing fizz. She smiled and pressed the opening to her lips.

“WHAT are you three doing!”

Ron, Harry, and Heather screamed as Hermione came out from behind their tree.

“You should be studying for exams!” Hermione handed them each a paper with their study schedules along with their exam times.

Harry waved his textbook in her face. “We’re already doing that.”

Hermione pushed the book away and placed a single hand on her hip. “Not out here. There’s too much distraction.” She dragged the three of them into the castle and forced them to sit down in the much quieter Great Hall during study hour. “Now you can ask the Professors any questions you have.”

Heather, Harry, and Ron grumbled as the summer air blew through the doors.

Heather glanced at Hermione’s exam times and frowned.

‘Monday:

9 o’clock, Arithmancy

9 o’clock Transfigurations

Lunch

1 o’clock, Charms

5 o’clock, Care of MC

11 o’clock, Astronomy

Wednesday:

10 o’clock, Herbology

Lunch

1 o’clock, Defense Against DA

1 o’clock, Ancient Runes

3 o’clock, History of Magic

5 o’clock, Potions

5 o’clock, Muggle Studies’

“Hermione. I don’t think Snape will let you leave early to take your Muggle Studies exam or arrive late from it.” Heather watched Hermione stuff the paper in her bag and push her hair behind her ears.

“Of course not. That’s silly.”

Ron pulled a face. “Then you’ve copied the times wrong.”

“No.” Hermione snapped. “And might I remind you, you’ve got two essays due tomorrow. Now… I NEED to study so no more interruptions – Where’s my copy of ‘Numerology and Grammatica’? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I used it for a bit of bedtime reading last night,” Ron mumbled.

Heather pulled the book out from under a stack of five and slid it roughly across the table to her. How could Hermione not trust them? After everything they’d been through? What. Was she afraid of spilling her punctuality secrets?

Hedwig flew down and landed on the large stack of books besides Heather. She pulled the letter out of her beak and handed it to Harry to read while she smoothed down Hedwig’s fluffy white feathers.

“From Hagrid.” He turned the note over and flipped it open. “Buckbeak’s appeal… Its set for the sixth of June. That’s next month…”

“That’s the last day of exams,” Hermione said from behind her book.

“Well they’re coming up to the school for it with a Ministry official… and an executioner.”

Hermione gasped.

Ron took the note out of Harry’s hand and turned it around to read for himself. “That’s not bloody fair!”

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall gave them menacing eyes from the High Table.

“It doesn’t sound like they’ll be very willing to hear Hagrid out.” Heather gripped her quill tight and poked holes into her parchment. “Not fair at all. Poor Buckbeak.”

“It’s Malfoy’s fault.” Harry looked around for him, ready to stare daggers.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a stack of handwritten Hippogriff research scrolls to shove down his throat. Where is he?” Ron stood, searching with Harry for their target.

“Do not make things worse with him,” Heather warned.

Although she managed to settle them down to study that day, she could not help the growing hostility between them for the next several days. However subdued Draco had been after the Slytherin Gryffindor match loss was all in the past now. Draco had regained his confidence after hearing from his father about Buckbeak’s scheduled beheading, thinking it was all thanks to him, and was now parading around the castle with Lockhart’s same pompous attitude.

After his daily dose of bragging, gloating, and boasting he took extra time from his busy schedule to sneer at them from afar, whisper rude comments about it in the corridors, and even pass taunting notes to Harry and Ron during classes.

‘Ignore him’ was all Heather and Hermione were saying until exam week began, and an unusual silence fell upon the castle. Even Percy was going around shushing anyone who disturbed the quiet of the corridors.

“People are studying!” he hissed at a group of second years before going back to soundlessly reciting charms and spells on his way up to the Gryffindor common room.

“He’s almost as bad as Hermione,” Ron noted, turning around to watch Hermione bump into student after student from behind a leather-bound book so large it hid even her bushy hair.

Harry eyed Heather as she doodled in her art journal as they walked. “How are you managing to not have a mental collapse like them?”

Heather scoffed. “For the same reason the Slytherins and Ravenclaws never worry over exams. Slytherins are always studying and Ravenclaws are always OVER studying – It’s not impressive they could pass next year’s exams, it’s annoying. They should stop bragging.”

They sat all of Monday’s exams and by late dinner the whole school was spent and puffy eyed. Heather sat with Pansy and her friends who were all talking about the tasks for Transfigurations, particularly the one that involved turning a brick into a crow.

“Yours looked like a raven.”

“Did you see Cindy’s magpie?”

“I heard Neville’s was still red – ”

“I heard Neville’s was still a brick.”

Heather rolled her eyes and turned away. Almost everyone at the table was bragging about their results, which would be fine if she wasn’t a little insecure about her transfiguration and charm skills. As much as she tried, Hermione was always better and got the spells faster than Heather did. The only reason she wasn’t more worried about her skills on those subjects were mostly due to Ron and Harry and their consistently horrible attempts.

Draco turned to Heather and smiled. “Know what I Saw in the crystal ball?”

“Was it Hermione smacking you again?”

He frowned and stabbed his fork into his potato salad. “No. That pigeons head rolling around those pumpkins. Got perfect marks for that too.”

“That’s funny. I saw YOUR head rolling around the boy’s urinals. Perfect marks on that prediction as well.”

Draco set down his fork and slid his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at her, hidden from view of the High Table. “Is that a threat, Potter?”

Heather scoffed and leaned forward. “It is if you don’t stop talking about murdering that poor creature.”

He laughed and nudged Goyle beside him. “Hear that? She thinks she can take me.”

Heather had better things to do than sit around the table entertaining Draco and the two goons beside him. She still had Astronomy to study for and got up to join the several other students who were gathering at the astronomy tower to go over star charts and planet paths.

The test was on the last century only and as much as she hated when Harry cheated, even she knew he’d need her answers to pass. What star constellation was visible during the mountain troll attack of Hogsmeade in 1901? What planetary alignment led to the invention of self-tying brogues? The easiest part was the final question which asked what the current visible stars, constellations, and planets were.

After the test Professor Sinistra collected their telescopes and let them hang around for a few minutes while she put them away.

Ron’s hair danced in the wind as he leaned over the stone half-wall and squinted through the darkness at the grounds. “Er… Harry? Did YOU remember to put our Salamander away after the exam?”

Harry pulled him back and leaned over the wall, holding his glasses securely to his face as he looked down. “I’m sure Hagrid will notice the small fire…”

Heather looked down and saw tiny flames growing in the bushes on the outskirt of the forbidden forest. “Is there ever a year where you two WON’T damage the school in some way?”

“What did we do first year?” Harry pulled them back and together headed down the tower stairs.

If they still had their invisibility cloak Heather would have suggested going down to tell Hagrid about it and also taken the opportunity to check in on him – which they hadn’t been able to do for several weeks due to the strict rules on Harry and her because of Sirius Black. The strict rules wouldn’t be much of a problem, except the cloak was still down in the one-eyed witch’s tunnel which was under constant guard of Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris after their last talk and Heather’s outburst in Snape’s office.

She didn’t think there was anyone as naturally suspicious and distrustful as Snape was. The way he could smell out trouble and deceit and stay on his intuition was impressive in some ways and just downright annoying now that she disliked him.

The next day was spent studying for Wednesday’s exams in the common room during the morning – since Harry and Ron had stayed up late and were fast asleep during valuable studying hours – and the library and study hall in the afternoon with Hermione as frantic as ever.

“Oh! Why is there so much to know!” Hermione gathered all her notes and pulled at her hair. “I-I’m going to go splash water on my face.” She stood with a thick pile of notes in her hand and walked away from their table towards the large Great Hall doors.

Heather bit her lip and ran to catch up to her. “I’ll go with you. I could quiz you with those notes while you dunked your whole face in water if you wanted.”

Hermione stopped her and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s alright Heather.” She stood waiting for Heather to turn around and march back to Harry and Ron.

“I don’t mind.” Heather crossed her arms.

Hermione nodded slowly and handed her the stack of notes. “Wonderful.” She walked out of the Great Hall and down the corridor towards the girl’s bathroom.

Heather looked through the notes and found the ones for Ancient Runes. “What’s – er – the symbol with the bug and two lines mean?”

“Too easy. It’s the letter ‘B’. Give me actual sentences.” Hermione turned the cold water on and ran her hands under.

“Hermione. How are you going to take this exam at the same time as Defense Against Dark Arts? In fact, how have you been attending this class at all?” Heather stared at Hermione reflection and watched her look around the sink.

She frowned and turned off the running water. “I – well – You’re supposed to be quizzing me. I have six exams tomorrow – ”

“You’re keeping a secret. I know it Hermione. I can understand why you wouldn’t tell Harry and Ron… but me? Last year you got upset that – ”

“Yes I know! But… I’m sorry, I’m just not allowed to tell. I swore I wouldn’t.” Hermione took back her notes and looked down at her shoes. “You can go back. I’m staying here for a minute.”

Heather clenched her jaw and ignored the tightness in her chest that made her want to tear up. Before she had friends she’d always found it easy to hold back tears. Now it was hard to not show her emotions around them, even when she was hurt and sad. “Just tell me. Please? You’ve hardly been around while somehow being around and if it’s because of this secret so why not just let me know? We’re best friends.”

Hermione looked up with watery eyes. “Then why don’t you share your secret first?”

Heather looked around at the dirty tiled floor and up at the streaky mirror. Should she come clean about the raskovnik growing in her charmed pot? She’d have to explain then about the stolen library books as well…

“I know you and Draco hung out over the summer. You went to his house. I overheard it.” Hermione wiped at her eyes and huffed. “He’s always using the word mudblood, always fighting with Ron and Harry, and now he’ll be responsible for Buckbeak’s death… and you’re friends with him. Harry doesn’t even know you’ve been INSIDE his house.”

“It was only a few days! I swear! I hated it there but I NEEDED to. You don’t understand how it is in Slytherin. Flint doesn’t even want me on the team for being a girl. I have to keep up the drills and beat all those stupid boys who are all so much stronger than me! I don’t even know what I’ll do next year if Flint doesn’t get held back again and some other idiot becomes team captain.” Heather pressed her palms to her eyes and sniffed. “I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a girl. I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a half-blood. I have to prove I’m not a house traitor because of Harry.” Heather wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve and sighed. “I don’t get to relax comfortably in a house that just accepts me… Everyone’s always watching me, waiting to see me trip up and prove them all right… And then I’m stuck all summer in a house that forbids magic? I’m sorry Hermione… please understand? I know how horrible he is to us. But I needed his help.”

“I… do. I’m sorry I know it must be hard not being in Gryffindor with us. But who cares what they think? They’re all just a bunch of blood-purists. You have us aleways. And we don’t judge you or anyone else like that.” Hermione hugged her and pulled away.

Heather nodded and wiped the few tears that had escaped. She was relieved Hermione forgave her. Maybe if Harry found out, would he too? Although it might be harder after Buckbeak’s appeal depending on the outcome. “What’s your secret then?”

Hermione sighed and hugged her arms. “I really can’t say… yet… Look, I swear I’ll tell you on the train. But you can’t tell Harry or Ron… ESPECIALLY not Ron. He could mess up the whole world and even worse, get me expelled.”

Heather nodded and they sealed the deal with a hand shake. She walked back into the Great Hall and a minute later Hermione followed and was back to her usual frantic self.

The next morning was the Herbology exam which had them out in the sun baking to crisps in the greenhouses. Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was after lunch and Professor Lupin had made them some sort of obstacle course outside.

“Oh no…” Heather’s eyes swept across the transformed grounds closest to the lake at the small pool labeled ‘Grindylows’, the field of potholes labeled ‘Red Caps’, and the patch of marsh labeled ‘Hinkypunks’.

“The end of the exam is hidden. Full marks to those who come out the right tree.” Professor Lupin smiled and signaled the start of the exam.

They waded through the pool – holding their socks and shoes in one hand and their wands in the other – then jumped over the Red caps, squished through the marsh while Hinkypunks shouted misleading directions, and headed into the trees. Heather stayed on the marked path and tried to figure out the correct tree. There was a large tree the width of Hagrid’s shack with a large hole carved out the side. It looked hungry, with its gaping mouth showing the darkness that would engulf anyone who entered.

Harry was the first to crawl in with Hermione, Heather, and Ron following in right after. With wands up they fought the new boggart that was shoved into a hollowed branch. For her turn, Heather swallowed as it slithered out from its hole in the darkness and dropped to the ground just beyond the light of her wand.

“Riddikulus!” Heather shouted, before it could manifest into anything. A bouncing red and gold ball rolled into the light. She shot a simple spell at it and it shot back into its hole, wedging in tight.

Almost everyone had received full marks, except poor Neville who had to face his grandmother telling him Snape would be his new grandfather. He was so shaken up several students had to help walk him up to their next exam, History of Magic.

Heather was fairly certain she’d passed all her exams so far, and was now worried about potions.

“After this we’re free!” Ron skipped down the corridor. “The last exam of the year!”

Heather could still hear herself shouting at Snape to shut up and the look of pure rage on his face. She was going to fail. She knew it. He hadn’t even given her detention for that – nothing. He was waiting for this exam to get back at her and Harry.

“We’re going to fail this one.” Heather shook Harry’s arm as they walked down the dungeon stairs. “He’s going to give us low marks out of vengeance!”

Harry pushed her away. “What’s new?”

“He’s never done that to me! You, I understand, but I always get high grades! Second to Malfoy – ”

Hermione huffed. “I thought you were second to me.”

They took their seats near the back of the classroom.

“No… Second to Malfoy but I’d be first if he’d just let me ‘study’ with him – ”

“Silence.” Professor Snape stood from his desk and began explaining the exam.

They were afforded two whole hours to brew a Confusing Concoction which turned into the biggest, messiest disaster Heather had yet seen. Cauldrons were erupting with goo, over spilling with sticky liquid, or hardening into chunks that melted out the cauldron bottoms.

It took Heather almost the full two hours to complete the potion and in the end she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to look like yellow cake batter in there. Snape peered in and grinned before marking his notes and tisking vindictively. He then stepped over to Harry’s cauldron and waited as Harry desperately tried to thicken his up enough. Snape stood tapping his notes with his fingers and the second the bells tolled, scribbled something suspiciously like a zero and walked away.

They left the dungeons feeling empty and relieved that everything was over. Heather and Hermione were starting to poke fun at Ron and Harry’s attempts when their attention was caught by the two men waiting at the bottom of the Entrance Hall stairs.

Cornelius Fudge and a black-hooded man with a large blade stood looking at all the students as they ran to the Great Hall for late dinner.

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[radramblog]

Star Wars Battlefront II (the good one)

My nonfunctional internet is preventing me not only from finishing off my essay, not only from watching the lecture that I would have shown up for were it not for mediary COVID restrictions, but it’s also stopping me from writing anything here that would require any sort of research or confirming details. That leaves me with less options that I would have thought.

Browsing through my Steam collection for ideas on what to talk about, and something jumped out at me pretty quickly.

Star Wars Battlefront II (the 2005 game, not Star Wars Battlefront 2, the sequel to the EA remake much maligned for malicious microtransactions) is a first/third person shooter that, while showing its age, remains one of the best games the franchise has ever put out. This is, of course, an opinion coming from someone who has yet to play Knights of the Old Republic, but it feels like Star Wars as a franchise has more misses than hits. So what makes this one land?

While I’m woefully unfamiliar with the early 00s shooters that Battlefront II was competing with (aside from Counter-Strike Source, but I’d argue that’s a different target market), I am extremely familiar with this one. I think part of why Battlefront II is so fondly remembered is on account of it being almost a gateway game for people getting into shooters in general- I for one played it extensively on my mate’s PS2 in primary school, and later on someone else’s PSP, and I doubt I would later have clicked so strongly with Halo if I hadn’t.

But what Battlefront II has more than anything else I feel is ambition. After the conclusion of the prequel trilogy, Star Wars’s universe was big, and the developers seemed interested in representing about as much of what we see of it’s style of warfare as they possibly could. As a result, the maps are a glorious smattering of worlds and terrains, loving and detailed recreations of places from the various films as well as a few that are probably new (I might just not remember them), each drizzled with vehicles and turrets and resources. Each of the game’s four factions share the basic units with very few differences (except for the Super Battle Droid), making them easy to understand and grasp for newer/younger players, with the complexity of each’s unique units paying off those willing to grapple with their weakness and play to their strengths. Some are definitely better than others, but that isn’t especially obvious at first. The basic classes reflect tropes seen in other games and while again some falter it’s not by enough that picking them in the wrong situation is a guaranteed blunder.

There are, of course, the heroes, major characters from the series granted to a player who’s doing pretty well, and I feel like this is another pretty well handled mechanic, even if a little awkward. There are enough of them, and they’re distributed enough between maps and factions, that they don’t tend to feel stale, and it’s pretty obvious that while they can absolutely ruin a team it’s also pretty easy to mishandle them. Unfortunately, heroes are related to one of my biggest complaints about the game, but we’ll get to that later.

One of the biggest selling points in my eyes are the dogfight levels. Now, I’ve never played X-Wing or the like, in fact my experiences with dogfighting games is extremely limited. But this part of the game fucks so hard. The design ideas begun with the class selection continue with the (admittedly small) range of starfighters you can pilot, with specialised interceptors, bombers, and landing craft to go alongside the effective all-rounders. The mode offers a variety of playstyles, between hunting down opponent’s fighters to bombing their flagships to boarding said flagships and destroying their systems from the inside. There is also the option of manually controlling the turrets, as well as acting as a gunner for someone else’s bomber/lander, but these positions are unfortunately underpowered and underexplored- they’re also, ultimately, less fun. But the dogfighting just feels right. I can’t really explain it, but moving in that 3-dimensional space feels not only satisfying but accurate to the source material in a way I don’t think any future Star Wars game has yet replicated.

I suppose the various game modes are worth discussing. Skirmishing on whatever map you want is the standard, at least in multiplayer, but there are a few unique offerings you won’t see in other modes- Hunt, where it’s a faction versus some of the series’s wildlife in a mode that always feels imbalanced towards one side or the other. There’s obviously Assault- the standard name for the space dogfights but on one ground map (Mos Eisley) it is of course the ever-popular heroes free-for-all, a chaotic mess but one where you can test out each one and figure out what their abilities actually do. But in the broader strokes, you’ve got the story, and the Galactic Conquest, as the two main other modes.

(oof, they really didnt build this with this resolution in mind huh)

That’s right, this game has a story, and it’s…okay? Ultimately it’s just a series of missions with the 501st, as they fight in the clone wars, turn on the Jedi, and ultimately become the Empire’s tool of oppression, separated by exposition. You get to run through some scenes from the movies, including the boarding at the start of the first movie and the Battle of Hoth, though some of the missions feel harder than intended- no matter how good the player is, the AI is not going to fare well in the tougher missions and you have a solid chance of ending up on your own.

Galactic Conquest is the game’s more unique selling point, being something like a basic version of Risk but with the dice-rolling battles replaced with Star Wars Battlefront II. You earn credits over time and through victory that you can spend unlocking types of units, getting new fleets to improve how many fronts you can wage war on, and unlock powerups for use in the actual battles. It’s largely fine, feeling like a bit more controlled and strategic version of just playing randoms in Instant Action, but it suffers the most from the biggest problem this game has.

The game’s truest flaw is its AI. They are dumb as a sack of potatoes, and the main thing holding the game back from perfection. And it was the early 00s so imperfect AI was to be expected, but it’s a bit more than imperfect here, I guess. Robits standing still while shooting you (or just at all, while you’re sniping them), extremely questionable vehicle and turret usage, and literally crashing starships into you, your flagship, or their own flagship. Bumping their difficulty up doesn’t really help, either. Even more egregious is the AI’s usage of heroes- or rather, that they don’t. If you’re playing single player, the game will always give earned heroes to you rather than your robot teammates, will not let one of them take if it if you decline to use the character, and you will never see one on the opposite side. This would imply that there wasn’t code for the Ais to use them, except there clearly is because Assault Mos Eisley exists- and they’re arguably much better there than in any other mode! It’s a real shame, because the low quality of the AI combined with the nature of the games means that victory is extremely polarised based on the player’s skill- if you bad all the way up to pretty decent at the game, your input basically doesn’t affect the outcome, whether you win or lose. If you’re good at the game, you will never lose at singleplayer, possible exception again being Assault Mos Eisley. It’s a little absurd, honestly. Also, I’m not even sure they go for the flag in CTF in space.

I am, however, willing to look past these flaws. The game is far from perfect, but it’s just incredibly fun. It’s a type of gameplay that they’ve tried to replicate, but never quite recaptured- and I think part of the reason for that is because the awkwardness is part of the charm. It’s nostalgic- both for those who played it when they were younger and just those in my generation who grew up on the Prequels. It’s also way more expensive on steam (bruh 14.5 AUD for real?) than I expected, but it goes on hard sales pretty often (I think I paid like a buck fifty for it), so it’ll be within budget at some point. I don’t know if I can recommend it for those who aren’t nostalgic, though, solely on account of those awkward features you likely wouldn’t be able to ignore like I do. And that’s a shame, because it’s not like they’ve made a better version of this game.

Fuck EA, basically.

#ramble #video games #star wars battlefront 2 #(the good one)

[multiverse-in-archive]

GLaDOS and What She can Potentially Tell Us About Chell’s Character

((So decided to make an analysis, finally, after reading way too much into GLaDOS’s voicelines.

When it comes to blank slate videogame protagonist characters, admittedly I’m the type to analyze them based off of what you can and can’t do in the games they’re in without a consequence of some sort [like death or contradicting one of the few previously established character traits] as well as how the other characters react and interact with them. It’s really all I get to go off of.

Now, I know GLaDOS is not the most reliable resource to analyze Chell off of, considering not only her bitterness and bias, but also that not all of her observations of Chell are accurate. After all, Chell is not mute, just refuses to speak out of spite.

However, she’s the only character we have that has the most insight into Chell as a person, and with things that she’s either exaggerating or straight up lying about, we can distinguish that by what can be observed of her in the gameplay. Plus, with some of them, I doubt she’d bring them up if there was no reason for her to believe bringing them up wouldn’t hold some truth or exploit some sort of insecurity. She’s the calculating type that aims for weak points she sees rather than just throwing shit out and hoping she gets lucky, you know?

“But didn’t she write the files? Or lie about what was in them?”

She may have edited and/or exaggerated them, but I think at least some of the things were already there before she got her hands on them. After all, there’s this. Which would imply that the scientists themselves would have made those comments in the files.

And considering how uncooperative Chell was with her application process [refusingto even speak to HR, answering essay questions with nonsense in bianary] then they’d probably thought rather bitterly of her, and it would reflect in the file.

[Side note, don’t really agree with the Half Life Wiki suggesting that Chell signed up for this {at least, willingly} when everything in the Lab Rat comic pointed to the opposite being the case.]

Now with all that out of the way, let’s finally have a look at some of GLaDOS’s comments about Chell and how they reflect her based off of what we the players see of her in game or what we can infer her reactions are to them by how GLaDOS approaches them.

The Fat Jokes

"Congratulations. Not on the test."

"Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds."  - Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"Hmm. This Plate must not be calibrated to someone of your... generous... ness. I'll add a few zeros to the maximum weight."

"You seem to have defeated its load-bearing capacity. Well done. I'll just lower the ceiling."

"Look at you. Sailing through the air majestically. Like an eagle. Piloting a blimp." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 9

“What, but Chell’s not fat-”

Yeah, I know, this is just more about what Chell’s potential response to it is.

And telling by how this tends to be one of GLaDOS’s go to's, it does seem like it’s something that at least annoys her.

Then again, though, it could also be just GLaDOS trying to poke at the most common insecurity among women. And I think GLaDOS even admitted to that being the reason she goes to it so often here and here. So it’s really up to interpretation.

Though personally, I think it’s something that annoys Chell but at the same time it doesn’t really get to her, if it makes sense? Just a nuisance at worst.

Comments on Chell’s Parentage [or Lack Thereof]

"It also says you were adopted. So that's funny, too." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Don't let that 'horrible person' thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"I'm going through the list of test subjects in cryogenic storage. I managed to find two with your last name. A man and a woman. So that's interesting. It's a small world." - Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

"I have a surprise waiting for you after this next test. Telling you would spoil the surprise, so I'll just give you a hint: It involves meeting two people you haven't seen in a long time." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 16

"I'll bet you think I forgot about your surprise. I didn't. In fact, we're headed to your surprise right now. After all these years. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 17

Surprisingly the orphan/adopted jokes are actually fewer than I remember. With how Wheatley tried to imitate GLaDOS by throwing around “fatty” and making a comment about Chell being adopted that one time, I kinda thought that it was almost as common as the fat jokes.

Though, to be fair, the adoption comment goes back as far as the end of Portal, and GLaDOS actually did a whole bit where she pretended that she found Chell’s parents. So it left more of an impression on me than the fat comments actually did.

As for whether or not it’s true? It’s most likely. After all, the adoption/orphan comments are protocol for specifically dealing with orphan test subjects. Also in general Aperture seems to have it out for orphans in that test subject type listing thing. [credit to the-wheatley-core go check them out cowards-]

"But Chell’s a daughter from bring your daughter to work d-"

The file said she’s adopted, so ye. Adopted daughter is still daughter.

Furthermore, the Bring your Daughter to Work Day incident probably orphaned Chell all over again, so she’s like. An orphan twice over.

As for Chell’s feelings on this? I think from what GLaDOS says here that Chell probably did not take the surprise very well. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting it to actually be anything good. She probably didn’t have her hopes up. But she was probably seriously pissed that GLaDOS went through all that trouble just for it to lead to... nothing. All for the sake of mocking her.

Further implied by GLaDOS rubbing salt in the wounds.

I think this would mean that this is a bit of a sore spot for Chell in general and that this was one of the few moments that genuinely upset her.

Calling Chell a Horrible Person [and a Loner]

"You're not a good person. You know that, right?"

"Good people don't end up here." -Portal, during the later part of the Escape

"All your other friends couldn't come either because you don't have any other friends. Because of how unlikable you are."

"It says so right here in your personnel file: Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner whose passing shall not be mourned." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Well done. Here come the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: A horrible person. We weren't even testing for that." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 2

GLaDOS really goes into calling Chell a bad person. There’s like. So many instances of this.

Though I don’t believe that Chell’s a bad person necessarily, there can be some things that might make one believe she is [outside of bias and clear guilt tripping/gaslighting].

If you’ve read my Chell headcanon shit, you might remember that I state that I think that Chell’s a rather spiteful person. Not only does she stubbornly refuse to speak purely to spite Aperture as a whole, but it’s implied from her file that she gave the scientists a lot of grief, to the point they recommend not ever testing her [it’s stated to be her tenacity, but tbh I think for Chell spite was at least a major motivatorfor her tenacity. After all, what else did she have?]. And once again, it seems that they view her rather bitterly if GLaDOS didn’t put that in the file herself.

Not to mention that GLaDOS manipulates her into destroying the Morality Core by appealing to her spite. After all, it’s not possible in game to simply do as she says and return it to her. You have to destroy it.

Even Wheatley caught onto Chell acting out of spite. He tried appealing to that when trying to convince her to get onto the conveyer belt to the mashy spike plate.

As for the loner bit, that seems to hold true to, considering how well Chell took the isolation she had to suffer. As far as she knew in the first game [at least at first], she was all alone and didn't so much as crack.

Not to mention in the second games the other characters' reactions imply that she's rather standoffish overall.

That combination can lead to someone being rather... difficult to work with...

But to be honest, I think she’s also capable of compassion, or at least mercy, and can be cooperative if she finds you trustworthy enough.

For the compassion [or mercy depending on how you view it] I have some examples that I’ll elaborate on in the Companion Cube and Wheatley sections, but there’s a couple of others I can get into.

Remember when I said I partially judge a blankslate character based off of what is and isn’t an option gameplaywise that doesn’t result in consequence.

Not only is it optional to save the Oracle Turret without consequence, but it even rewards you with an achievement and some neat foreshadowing from the character.

Then there is the time that Chell found GLaDOS at her lowest; a potato, being eaten alive by a bird.

Now, gameplaywise, you can’t advance without PotaTOS, hell, PotaTOS sits on the switch in the nest you find her in, but story and characterwise, Chell could have just went on her way, let her suffer the her fate at the hands [or talons/beak] of the bird. And yet she scared the bird off of her.

And it’s not like she knew that the place was going to self destruct or that she needed GLaDOS to survive, because that wasn’t brought up until after Chell scared the bird away.

As for the cooperativeness, I want to elaborate more on that when I get to Wheatley’s section, but I will say, she did work pretty well with GLaDOS in the later half of the game, despite how shakey their alliance was. Even risking her life to disconnect Wheatley from the chasis long enough for GLaDOS to fix everything. Just going off of the slim chance that she could survive it with GLaDOS’s intervention. It was no guarantee, she probably would have thought she was dead either way if she didn’t have at least a sliver of a thought that GLaDOS would pull her back in to safety.

Now imagine how well she'd probably work with you if she genuinely believed in her partnership with you.

It may have gotten a bit off track there, but my point is that GLaDOS is not completely unfounded with her being “unlikable”. It’s clear that she holds a lot of resentment for her situation and reacts spitefully because of it, and that combined with her being a rather distant person can make it hard to deal with her [and in fact might be a deal breaker for some], but at the same time, she’s not completely unreasonable and bitchy just so long as you’re either harmless or have good intentions.

Chell’s Sense of Fashion

"That jumpsuit you're wearing looks stupid. That's not me talking, it's right here in your file. On other people it looks fine, but right here a scientist has noted that on you it looks 'stupid.'"

"Well, what does a neck-bearded old engineer know about fashion? He probably - Oh, wait. It's a she. Still, what does she know? Oh wait, it says she has a medical degree. In fashion! From France!" -Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

Now, this is probably the shortest one because this is the only instance [that I know of] where GLaDOS pokes fun at her sense of fashion. And since it never comes up again, this is probably something that she sensed did not bother Chell one bit.

Though telling by how Chell had the upper half of her jumpsuit folded down and tied around her waist to expose her tops, it does seem like she cares about fashion a tad [probably favors both fashion and function], but doesn’t seem to care what other people think of her tastes, just what she likes.

The Companion Cube

"While it has been a faithful companion, your Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test. If it could talk - and the Enrichment Center takes this opportunity to remind you that it cannot - it would tell you to go on without it because it would rather die in a fire than become a burden to you."

"You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube more quickly than any test subject on record. Congratulations." Portal, Test Chamber 17

"Oh. Did I accidentally fizzle that before you could complete the test? I'm sorry."

"Anyway, here's a new cube for you to project your deranged loneliness onto."

"I think that one was about to say 'I love you.' They ARE sentient, of course. We just have a LOT of them."  Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 7

Ah the faithful Companion Cube, everyone’s best friend. And an instance where GLaDOS tries to emotionally torment Chell while still trying to pass herself off as a automated voice back in the first game.

Is the cube truly sentient? I don’t know.

Does Chell care about it? I don’t think GLaDOS would have brought them back in the second game and taunt her with them if she didn’t believe it would cause Chell some distress.

She even gives it back to her after setting her free.

Whether or not it can talk or feel anything, I think it’s clear that Chell is rather fond of it.

Side note, I swear to god throughout Test Chamber 17 in the first game I heard like. Soft, faint humming whenever I held it. Am I just crazy? Did any of you guys experience that too? help-

Wheatley

"I have only met one other team closer and one of them was an imbecile I had to destroy."

"The other? Well..."

"I don't think I want to go through that again." -Portal 2, Co-op Campaign, Unlocking Course 4 for the first time

I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly certain the team she’s talking about is Chell and Wheatley. There is literally no other pair that would fit that description that we know of. Sure, she didn’t destroy Wheatley [literally, anyways], but he is her definition of an imbicel that she had to deal with. And Chell has not worked with anyone else before Wheatley [Not directly anyways], and it’s pretty obvious that “the other” is who GLaDOS was referring to.

And while she didn’t get to see all they did together, she witnessed Chell put enough of her trust in him to follow him to escape, even despite her best efforts, and she bared witness to the fruit of their labor later.

I think she sensed a sort of chemistry between them, noticed how well they worked together. She even felt the need to ask permission to kill him. She probably wouldn’t have if she didn’t have reason to believe that Chell was at least at one point close to him.

So that begs the question; does she really believe Chell actually did all the work?

I don’t think so.

Again, she witnessed Chell faithfully follow Wheatley, so it’s reasonable to assume that she was following his lead. Not to mention that this is not a type of strategy that Chell has attempted on her own before. Chell’s strategy in the first game was to simply to bide her time, portal in and out when the opportunity arises, destroy shit, and just wander until she got results, basically [she was kinda following Rattmann's directions, though]. This strategy was too subtle, too quiet, to be Chell’s. She even said so herself; "And now I'monto all of your little tricks." And she'd recognized that this is not how she do.

Not to mention that they all know that Wheatley knows Aperture and all its inner workings better than Chell, so even if she wanted to sabotage anything, she wouldn’t know what and where they were.

I believe she saw an opertunity to split them apart in the form of Wheatley’s betrayal. More specifically to turn Chell against him. After all, she was very quiet until he lowered the lift back down.

Of course that backfired into her turning Wheatley against Chell and Wheatley promptly turning her into a potato. Opps-

“But if they were as close as GLaDOS believed them to be, why didn’t she catch Wheatley? After all, it’s not an option to catch him in game.”

Well remember, Chell has only just met him at this point, so it’s fair that she doesn’t immediately trust him with what she’s been through. Not to mention that the last time that a core was dropped, it was a trap.

Though, I believe after that, she realized he was sincere and steadily warmed up to him. It’s never an option to drop him whenever you pick him up, after all. Now granted, you can’t progress if you could drop him down a pit, but I think characterwise we can assume that she’s just unwilling to do so, regardless of how useful he was to her in those instances.

Furthermore, I think she grew to trust him throughout chapters 3, 4, and 5, as again, she very willingly followed his lead and had faith that he would help bust her out, waiting patiently for him to do so.

Sure, she diverted a bit to flesh out his plan some [although if you wait long enough at the turret assembly line, he does tell you what to do, so this could be another instance of her following his lead without question, though I like to think because of her problem solving skills that she does it herself, but either way!], but it’s still his plan that she’s trusting him with regardless.

Plus, I think Wheatley being as casual with her as he was during chapter 5 is implication that they both felt safe with each other at that point. At least, as safe as you can feel when hiding from a pissed off over powered blood lusting AI while being forced to wander around in the dark with only a flashlight to guide you.

And yet she kept him at arm's length by not speaking to him. I doubt it was anything personal against him though, so much as it's become a long time habit and way of protecting herself at this point. So long as they were both still in Aperture, anything could happen. So to her, keeping an emotional distance from him and not verbally responding was probably the safest bet.

That, however, was what made it so easy for GLaDOS to destroy their partnership. The lack of communication would ultimately lead Wheatley to believe that Chell did not appreciate all his help, that she agreed with her even.

Chell's shutting him out ultimately led to a self fulfilling prophecy.

Welp, this took all fucking day to write, but here we go. Hope this made sense. This is just my interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt. Hope it was a fun read either way, and if I’m mistaken on something, feel free to let me know. ^^

Edit: Fixed some grammar and other mistakes, elaborated on some points, aaaaand gave credit to the little snippit of the low risk human acquisitionthing siiiince I did not get that myself-))

#Outta this World {OOC} #Learn a bit more About Them {Headcanon} #We do What We Must {Aperture Science} #this took foreveeerrrrr-

[stitchwitchsapprentice]

The Curse Breaker

"And if you are accepted to Knights, what would you like to study?"

Julian looked around the table at the panel of teachers and tried to speak with as much gravitas as a fifteen year old could. "I'd like to study this history of the Sixth Migration, perhaps look at what became of the people in the Frist system..."

One of the teachers coughed. She was the shortest of the teachers on the panel. She pushed out her already puffy lips in a frown that made her look like an enormous bug had bitten her. Combined with eyebrows bushy enough to go to war on her forehead, it made her brown eyes and her already small nose look even smaller. "And why do you believe it is important to study the other systems?" she said. "when we have had no contact with them in over five hundred years?"

"That doesn't mean we never will have contact with them again. And at the rate that we've been developing technology, it's possible that we'll be making this contact within my lifetime." He tried to keep his voice even, as if they hadn't already read this in the three essays he'd been required to write for his application to Knights.

The olive skinned woman sitting across from puffy-lips was just a hair taller, but looked completely opposite, with a potato-like nose too big for her angled face and perfectly plucked eyebrows that angled over large blue eyes, one of which was always looking to the far left, no matter what the other did. Julian tried not to look at her face when she said, "But the 'Sixth Migration,' as you call it, was nothing more than a group of thieves trying to escape to the far reaches of the Zennis Galaxy. What interest would there be in such a... civilization?" She spoke the last word as if biting into a lemon.

Julian patiently tried to explain his interest in the subject, but without being able to explain his true draw to the Frist system--that his mother had, in fact, been born there--the rest of the interview went round in circles, and when the ten minutes had ended, he trudged home, not even bothering to use his natural wind magic to get there faster.

"Hey! How'd it go?" Julian's mother greeted him as soon as he stepped in the door. She was a spritely woman with skin so pale it shown like the white sand at a beach. Her eyes were a pale, oyster-pearl pink, and her hair, which feel nearly to her waist was thick, like seaweed, and deep green color, with white highlights. Most people assumed that she dyed her hair, and guessed that her strange colored eyes were due to some magical accident. Only Julian and his parents knew the real truth--that they were their natural colors, which they had been all her life.

Julian's mother was a pixie--a group of people who had once been magically changed on the far off planet of Iyuth. Not only did had their appearance changed, but they had powerful magical connections to the wind and the sea. They were also incredibly clever, perhaps too clever for their own good. For centuries ago, the gods had cursed the pixies, to only be able to use their magic in the service of others, and to agree to any request put upon them, lest it endanger someone's life.

It had been her curse that had allowed Julian's mother to transport herself to the Tristan solar system, at the sarcastic request of a rather foolish man. In Tristan, there were no races other than humans--not organic ones anyway. Though his mother's curse still plagued her, here she would not be captured or pressed in to service by those who recognized her as a pixie. Julian had inherited her knack for weather magic, and though unlike his mother, he could use it for his own purposes, he still felt compelled to agree to any request put to him by another person. The Iyuthan pixies, his mother included, told stories about a person who would be able to one day break the curse, and Julian wanted nothing more than to find the person so he could be normal... that, and go to Knights Academy.

Julian sat at the kitchen table, loosening first his black tie, and then the top button of his red-orange shirt. He had secretly hoped that wearing school colors might give him a leg up in the interview. "Not good."

His mother sat across from him. "At least you made it to the interview stage."

"The first interview. Even if, by some miracle, I get past this, there's still a test, and a second interview." There was a reason students referred to the Knights Academy application process as the Trials.

Julian's mom laid a hand on his. "Don't give up." She stood up again. "I was thinking about making cookies. I don't know if you're interested in helping me with that." His mother's curse had made unusual request forms commonplace in Julian's home. He agreed to help his mother--of his own accord--and by the time Julian's father arrived home, the whole house was filled with the scintillating scent of cinnamon.

For the next week, Julian let the Knights interview slip from his mind and merely enjoyed his summer holiday from school. But when the letter arrived from Knights that said his progress through the application process had ended, the joy of the season vanished as quickly as someone transporting to another planet. The real annoyance was how the letter adumbrated that he didn't have the focus and resilience to study at Knights. But maybe, if he applied again, after he had graduated from high school, when he had a better understanding of scientific study, he might succeed.

Julian tossed the letter to the floor. Resilience. They didn't think he had enough stick-with-it-ness to prove why studying the Sixth Migration was important. What was he supposed to have told them? That he wanted to study a planet they didn't believe to be inhabited? Or races only he knew existed? He looked up at his wall, where he had taped maps of each planet in the Tristan system. He dreamed of one day adding a map of his mother's planet to it, but that seemed impossible now.

His eye fell on the map of Laraly, the desert planet circling Tristan A. It was the First Migration--the one to Laraly that helped people figure out that different planets had different magical atmospheres. It was why some abilities were more common in different places. And why non-human races existed on his mother's planet, but not in Tristan. Laraly was a hostile planet. Like during the Sixth Migration, the people who had first gone there had done so to escape. And despite the lack of water and vegetation, they had stayed. Resiliance. If he was going to prove it anywhere, it was Laraly.

Julian had not planet hopped often. It was common in the Tristan system, but not usually for people with wind magic. He had practiced some, but only knew he could do it because his mom had done it once before. They key, he had read, was to focus on the cynosure--an image of focus that grounded you in the place you were traveling to. It had to be specific to that location, or you risked going to the wrong place. That's why cities and landmarks often created specific images to assist travelers. Julian only knew of one on Laraly, however. It was along the Living River--a big sign near the campsite had a picture of a tree painted on it. The roots of the tree ran like the river itself, and the branches divided the land, directing visitors to the hills in the west, the desert in the north, and the grassland in the south. Julian concentrated on the sign--on the sign painted blue, which stood on the north side of the river. On the south stood another in purple. He imagined himself in front of the sign, directed himself in front of it.

Transportation magic was usually painless--the world around you rippled, as if in a heat wave, and then reappeared anew. It did, of course, have effects on the body. It tended to make people dizzy, though it only lasted for a minute or two. But Julian did not have a natural gift for transportation magic. He had a natural gift for wind magic. For Julian transporting to another place felt like being lifted up by a tornado. He could feel himself hurling through space as wind whipped around his shirt and txs hair. He kept his eyes shut tight, not that he could see much anyway. And then, his feet hit the ground with such an impact that he lost his balance and dropped to his knees. He felt for a moment like he might throw up, but as a wet breeze hit his face, his head cleared and he realized he was at the campsite, in front of the sign, the bank of the river only a few feet in front of him.

The campsite was empty, but for one other person. When Julian saw her, he thought for a moment that she was Puffy Lips, from his interview... if Puffy Lips had shaved off all her hair. They met Julian's gaze and snorted. "First time transporting, huh?"

"Something like that." He stayed on the ground for a moment longer, just to be sure he was not about to vomit, and then stood and dusted himself off. Looking around the empty site, he realized his mistake. What had he planned to do, exactly? Wander off into the desert for three days like some figure in a Calistian fairytale? Expect one of the magic lords to save his life? And then tell Knights Academy that's why they should accept him? Julian knew he should go home before his parents realized he was gone, but he didn't think he was ready for that windstorm-transport again. Worse, he wasn't sure if he had a true cynosure for his home. Sure, it was his, but what was unique about it?

Julian knelt at the edge of the river and splashed water onto his face. When had he been here last? About five years ago, with his parents. His mom liked to tour around the Tristan System. She liked learning about the planets that she hadn't grown up on, the history that was so old her people had forgotten it. Julian wasn't interested in history back then. He had wanted to float down the river. The Living River hadn't earned its name only from the life it gave to the surrounding area, but from the incredible rapids that it had. Somewhere down river was their launch point. But he didn't know how far the boathouse was from the river, or when the next group would be arriving. His father had agreed to take Julian on the river while his mother visited the alhambra.

"Alhambra." Julian looked upriver. The Alhambra had once been a palace in the hills, where the king could protect himself from invasions. Now it was a museum about the area. And it was open every day of the week. Surely they would have a way to contact his parents.

Julian set out west, toward the hills. When he reached their base, he saw a stone path cutting through the sparse purple vegetation. Though he knew the leaves here were of a lavender color, rather than the pale green of his home planet, it was still weird to see. Julian guessed the walk took about an hour, but the path was cut in a switchback that made the climb an easy one. Soon, he saw the reddish-brown turrets of the alhambra before him. Near the door, several laniferous animals munched on the lavender grass. They were fluffier than the sheep on his own planet--so much so that even their heads resembled cotton balls. For a moment, he amused himself with the idea that they should be purple from the grass. But, he supposed, the sheep back home weren't green. They barely noticed him as he walked past and into the door. Clearly, they were used to visitors.

The inside of the alhambra was just as beautiful as the outside--reddish clay brick with intricate geometric carvings. Scenic tapestries hung in several places, likely made from the wool of the same type of sheep he had seen outside. The tapestries were old, but the wooden counter was new. The woman standing behind it was so short that only her head peeked above. Julian secretly wondered if was using a stepstool. "Can I help you?" She asked. Eyes half-closed, she seemed to be staring off to the side. He turned to look in the same direction, but saw nothing but the sign for the restrooms, also surely a new addition to the building.

"Can I help you?" she asked again. This was followed by a loud pop, and Julian realized she was chewing gum.

"No one's here?"

"It's a weekday," she drawled in her monotone, "and the season's nearly over. Do you want to visit the museum or not?"

"Um..." Julian approached the counter. "Actually, I was hoping to contact Whitefall."

"Whitefall?"

"Yeah, um... it's..."

"It's not on this planet."

"Yeah, I know." Julian scratched his head, feeling a little like the sheep outside. "I... kinda came here by accident. I was... hoping to get in touch with my parents."

She rolled her eyes. "New transportation mage, doesn't know what he's doing."

"Something like that."

She sighed. "You got a com number for your house?" Julian gave it to her. She punched the number into the computer on her desk. "What's your name?"

"Julian. Julian Daye."

"To... Mr. and Mrs. Daye... from the Laraly Alhambra..." the clerk spoke as she typed, "your son, Julian... has accidentally transported himself... to the Living River area of Laraly." She looked him up and down. "He is safe and unharmed."

Julian scratched his head again.

With a flourish, the clerk hit the send key. "It's gonna take at least ten minutes for the message to reach Whitefall."

"Thanks." Julian edged away to the bench near the bathrooms.

"The museum is free," she said in a tired voice, "unless you want a tour." She flicked her hand to a group of three-foot tall bullet-shaped robots in the corner with coin slots.

"Thanks again." Julian bypassed the bench and headed into the next room. He wandered around for some time, until a photograph of a shield caught his eye. The plaque on the wall next to it said The Curse Breaker. Julian read on. It was an old story about the creation of the Dagger Islands. According to the story, the islands had once bridged the northern and southern continents of Laraly. But long ago, a monster had threatened the people who lived on the bridge. It created for itself a giant cave of ice, and whenever someone fought it, it turned them into ice also, until a great hero rose up who bore that shield, which the monster's ice could not penetrate. The hero used the shield to melt the ice cave, creating an ocean of water, which buried the monster beneath it. But this did not kill the monster, which cries out from the depths. And this is how the bridge became the islands and how the Wailer's Ocean got its name. The shield had once belonged to the museum, but was stolen not long after.

Normally, Julian would have passed up the story as an old myth, but as he stared at the picture, he recognized something etched into it. It was a symbol that had equally been etched into his own brain after his attempts to apply to a school with the same symbol. It was the symbol of Knight--the Calistian god of fire. And while it was difficult to tell from the picture, the item looked like it might be made of Calistian metal. Julian knew from stories his mother told that items of the magic lords existed. They were rare, and they were powerful. A page from an old book was framed on the other side with a picture of the temple to the Mithra, the god whom the people of the Dagger Islands were known to worship. It was a longshot, but it was possible that the person who had stolen it had returned it to the temple. Perhaps this curse breaker could fix his own curse. 

Julian peaked through the doorway from the museum to the lobby and waited until the bored worker had turned her attention to the computer and dashed out the door. The sheep outside barely noticed him, except for one, which gave him an angry, "maah" before moving on to find another patch of purple scrub to eat.

"What?" Julian asked it, as if it had accused him of something, "It's not like I'll get another chance later." He found the sun and roughly determined which direction was east. To get the Dagger Islands, he didn't need to transport. Since he was on Laraly, he could fly there. That was easy enough. Julian summoned a wind and allowed it lift him into the air just as he heard the door of the alhambra open. As he let the wind carry him south and east over the Astra Hills, he faintly heard the groan of the museum worker. He wanted to call to her that he would be back soon, but he didn't think she would hear him.

He swept over the Opal Channel until it widened into the Wailer's Ocean. It was dusk when he spotted the temple of Mithra--a tower on a hill bearing an insignia with an open eye and two dragons. He decided it was good thing that he had flown. Walking up the hill would have been a pain in the ass.

Julian's wind brought him to the bottom window. Whether or not people still worshiped at the temple, he knew it was a lighthouse, which meant someone lived here, and he guessed they were upstairs, turning on the light. Nevertheless, he hovered at the edge of the window, trying to keep out of sight of anyone who might be in there. But the room was empty. A round rug was on the ground, and the main piece of furniture were a bookshelf, and across from it, a large plush chair, with a metal box on one side and an iron pot on the other. He looked for the shield, but couldn't get a good angle from outside the window, so he climbed in, letting his wind go on its way.

The room was warmer than he expected, considering the window didn't even have a shock shield to keep the weather out... or intruders. Or at the very least, it wasn't turned on. But whoever lived there probably thought it unlikely that someone would try to break into a lighthouse.

The heat seemed to be coming from the metal box on the other side of the chair. Julian approached it, curious, making sure not stub his toe on the iron pot, only to realize the pot was not next to the chair, but next to the bookcase. He looked to the window, and tried to judge the angle of its view into the circular room. It must have been that the room looked smaller from outside.

He stepped up to the heating box and examined it. It was a tam block, which people hadn't used since his grandparents had been his age. "Wow!" He breathed and stood up to look for the shield, only to find a sword a breath away from his neck.

"Seem to be in search of the wrong god, don't we?" a woman's voice spoke from the staircase. As she stepped into the light, never moving the point of the sword, Julian saw that she was young and slender, not even as old as his mother, with a long black braid down her back, and a gold tiara. Her right arm, which hung at her side, seemed to be made of metal, though it was unlike any prosthetic he had ever seen.

Julian put his hands into the air. "Please don't hurt me! I just came looking for the Curse Breaker!"

The woman paused, and then lowered the sword. "You are out of your depth aren't you." She looked toward the staircase and said, "Really, Pot? You thought a little boy was a threat?" In answer, the iron pot came walking out of the staircase on three legs.

"It's a robot?" Julian said amazed. He'd never seen an iron robot before. And there was no evidence of where the joints connected to the body.

"It's a pot," the woman answered. The pot turned a circle on its legs, and the woman brushed it lovingly with a foot. "Yes, you're my friend too, Pot. But you're not some dead piece of... computer equipment." She turned her attention once again to Julian. "So what brings a half-pixie all the way to Laraly?"

Julian opened his mouth to respond, and then paused. "How do you know I'm half-pixie?"

The woman sheathed her sword. "You're not the only one here from another planet."

"That is more than I care to explain right now." She crossed her arms over her chest. "So why are you looking for me?"

"I'm not looking for you. I'm looking for..."

"The Curse Breaker. That's me. What, surprised I'm a woman?"

"I... I thought it was the shield."

"Oh." The woman crossed the room to the chair and sat down. The pot followed her and settled down next to her, lowering its bottom to the ground like a dog might lay down at its owner's feet. She glanced into it. "Thanks, Pot." Then, she extracted a small stool from the pot and set it in front of her. "Have a seat," she said to Julian.

"Has that... always been..." Julian gave up asking questions and sat on the stool in front of her.

"The shield is the tool that helps the Curse Breaker," the woman explained, "the wielder shares its home until the next person comes along." She spread out her arms, gesturing to the room.

"Did it really create the Wailer's Ocean?"

She laughed. "An great exaggeration. It broke a curse of ice. It didn't create the ocean. I suppose you want your pixie curse lifted."

Julian nodded. "And for my mom."

"Well, let's see what I can do for you first."

"That's it? You're not even going to... ask me for payment or something?"

"Well, let's see if I can do it first..." Again, she reached into the pot. and this time, extracted the shield. It was smaller than Julian had expected, not much more than a foot tall, but his jaw dropped nonetheless.

She must have noticed because chuckled when she saw his face. "Pot is very helpful. We back on Thuo, and... I guess they decided to stick around." As if in response, the pot tilted on one of its legs until it touched her, like a cat rubbing its head against someone. She laughed and patted the pot. "Yeah, I love you too."

She hefted the shield onto her lap and held it so it faced Julian. For a moment, he felt like he should prepare himself for a bright light or something else to come out of it. Then he noticed the symbol on the shield shifting. In the photograph in the mueseum, it had been the symbol of Knight, but as he watched it, the etching changed to the symbol of other magic lords--first that of Orick, lord of irony, and then that of Reed, lord of wind.

"I can break the curse..."

"you can?"

"...but it would take your magic too."

Julian's heart sank. He imagined not being able to travel on the wind again.

"It would only take away the affinity you have now," she said truthfully, "anyone can learn magic. You could get it back with study and practice."

But Julian didn't want to study and practice. He supposed the committee at Knights had been right. He didn't have the resilience. Julian shook his head. "I can't. It's too much a part of me."

A cold wind blasted through the room, though this didn't come from the window, but from the direction of the staircase. A moment later, someone was hauling Julian to his feet by his ear.

"Ow!"

"See? I told you I could find him."

Julian looked at the two people who stood on either side of him and realized it was his parents.

"The lady at the alhambra said you'd run off," his mother said, "I wasn't worried."

The Curse Breaker laughed as she returned the shield to the pot, which hadn't so much as twitched at the sudden appearance of Julian's parents. "Be thankful your family cares so much about you," she told him.

"Now, do you want to tell me what you're doing all the way out on Laraly?" Julian's mom asked.

"Not really?"

"Then I guess we'll go home." She nodded to the Curse Breaker, and then came that terrible sensation of the wind speeding around them, of losing his breath, and Julian and his parents were home again. On the tail end of the wind, he thought he heard the Curse Breaker's voice telling him to keep looking, but he could have imagined it.

"Julian, could you do me a favor?" His mother said sweetly as he regained his balance and gasped for breath. "Could you please not go transporting yourself anywhere for the next month?"

Julian felt it more than heard it, a small snap in his spine, like he was a doll that someone had straightened. With that request, she locked down his magic.

Julian sighed. "Obligations."

#Original Fiction #52 Weeks of Writing

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #8 (1979)

This cover doesn't help me remember what this issue is about.

Having only ever read the first half of Cerebus via the collected stories in the Cerebus phonebooks, this is the first time I'm seeing most of the early covers of Cerebus. I probably started reading the monthly issues during "Flight" but had purchased the "Melmoth" back issues. So I'll be getting a lot of new material in the covers and the Aardvark Comments section all the way up through "Jaka's Story." In Note from the Publisher, Deni explains that Cerebus is currently selling 4,000 copies a month. That's four thousand dollars a month! Of course, Dave probably has to sell at half the cover price, so maybe that's more like two thousand. And then there's the expense of paying for your own printing and shipping. I have no idea what that might cost but let's pretend it's another thousand dollars. That leaves Dave and Deni with one thousand dollars per month before taxes and art equipment! And I know I'm being way too optimistic so let's say it's more like $750. In Canadian dollars! That's probably about five hundred American dollars! But then again, this was 1979 dollars and cars were about six thousand dollars back then. You could buy a house for twenty grand. So by Issue #8, Dave was either really starting to make a lot of money or heading toward financial ruin. I'm not sure why I even began this paragraph when I have no idea what I'm talking about. Although, four thousand copies of an independent comic book by the eighth issue? That's good fucking marketing. No wonder Dave Sim became the God of Self-Publishing. In his Swords of Cerebus essay, Dave Sim continues to explain how he was growing as a writer and artist. It's the kind of thing a fan of Sim's work enjoys reading but not the kind of thing that I can make entertaining in a brief synopsis. So fuck off to the next paragraph already. We're done here. At the end of the last issue, Cerebus escaped his battle with a gigantic Black Sun spider god. But he did not escape as unscathed as I maybe led everybody to believe. He was actually bitten and poisoned by the thing and now he's wandering the desert (unless it's the tundra (which is probably a definitive desert but what am I? A reader of The Farmer's Almanac?!), hallucinating and probably dying. Some Conniptin soldiers find Cerebus and take them back to their Commander's quarters. The Commander isn't the main leader of the army; the main leader is some cocaine snorting prince who thinks he's a god. He wants Cerebus made into a bath robe which would mean Cerebus would get the last laugh. Because remember how badly Cerebus' fur smells when it gets wet? Ha ha! That joke was so funny Dave used it five or six times in the Bran Mak Mufin issue. The Captain and the Commander make plans to oust the young Lord and take over the army themselves. But they need Cerebus by morning for their plan and Cerebus isn't healthy enough. So they take him to the army's doctor for a few Star Trek jokes that seem cheesy and overly done (but maybe not so much in 1979? Or is that the whole point of the running joke here? Because it's a tired format that Sim subverts at the end?) but which ends with a pretty fantastic punchline.

To really appreciate this joke, I think you have to remember what the world was like in 1979. If you weren't born or cognizant of the world at that time, I can't explain it to you. It's like trying to explain Ringo's obsession with the hole in his pocket to somebody who has never seen The Yellow Submarine and who also doesn't know who The Beatles are and has also never heard music or seen animation. Yeah, the 70s were that fucking cool.

The Captain and the Commander take Cerebus out later and point him in the direction of a campfire. They tell them the men around the fire drugged him and they should pay. Feverish and sick, Cerebus runs up to the small camp and begins slaughtering the four men around it. He hallucinates that three of them are Elrod and one of them is Sophia. So what the reader learns this issue is that Cerebus is ready to kill all of the other characters of his comic book at a moment's notice. How The Roach and Weisshaupt and Elrod and Rick and Astoria and Cirin last as long as they do is a miracle. Or it's just part of the contrived story. I guess if it were real, it would seem like a miracle. But since this is all written by Dave Sim, it's just the way it was meant to be. I'm not sure what their eventual plan is for Cerebus as this just seemed to be a test. I guess he's their Manchurian Candidate? The four mercenaries Cerebus killed were Hsifan. The Commander and Captain are Conniptin. I have no idea what these things mean. I think Hsifans make really good ninja assassins though so killing four of them is pretty damned impressive.

Like I said. Killing twenty-five Hsifans is pretty damned impressive.

This story highlights one of Cerebus' bigger life problems: he's constantly being pulled into other people's stories. If he's not trying to steal some treasure to get more gold crowns so he can drink more ale, he's slaughtering other mercenaries to get more gold to drink more ale. And when he's not doing either of those things, it's usually because he's gotten caught up in somebody else's story. I suppose that's what you need to expect when you're some kind of prophetic Messiah. Your story has already been told and you're just time's puppet. But — and I think this is the most important part — something about being an aardvark allows Cerebus to tell destiny and fate to fuck off. So quite often, Cerebus just walks away from the story he got sucked in without a care to its resolution. It has something to do with aardvarks being soulless and less with aardvarks being hermaphrodites. Because I think maybe that's just Cerebus. The Commander and Captain want to make Cerebus their new leader because they can't stand the selfish, greedy fops who rule. The Conniptin motto is "Might makes right! Fight, fight, fight!" Which you really can't argue with unless you're a talented fighter. So Cerebus is offered the job which he can refuse if he doesn't mind having his guts spilled on the floor.

Seems like Cerebus' future is pretty cut and dry. If you forget that he's an aardvark.

Cerebus decides he'd rather escape than be a puppet of the Commander. But after knocking out the guard and trudging some way across the snow, he thinks twice. He decides having a warm place to sleep and free food are a better deal than running for his life from vengeful Conniptins. He also likes the idea of leading an army. If you're not into Cerebus as a mercenary captain, don't worry. It won't last more than one issue!

Damn, I'd forgotten about this line. It used to be one of my favorites to quote whenever being offered some payment or reward of some kind. "What's better than X? Mayhap two Xes!"

Fred Hembeck writes in to Aardvark Comment this month as well as, if not as famous as, David R. Wooten. Pretty sure I've seen David's name in quite a few letters pages of DC comics. The Singles Page is a strip by John Barclay called "Small Potatoes!" It's twelve panels of a couple of guys singing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" on, I guess, a street corner. They sing, over and over again, "DooDuckGlackaLayda!" It's social commentary of some sort. I think. Maybe he's just making fun of the repetitive nature of the song, or any song you're forced to hear out in public by buskers and bucket drummers. Who can tell?! Humor was different in 1988 (the Singles Page is only from the Bi-Weekly! That's why the date is different from the comic). Cerebus #8 Rating: A. There's something happening here. What it is ain't a standard comic book. But it's not what a lot of people thought of as an underground comic book. For one, not once has Cerebus walked around with an erect penis. What was this nonsense not being published by DC or Marvel but also not being weird animal porn that is also personal confessional?! I wish I hadn't been so ashamed of purchasing adult material that my mom might raise an eyebrow at but then say nothing at all. One time she cleaned my bathroom where I had a playboy under the sink. Instead of saying anything, she just straightened it up and left it. I couldn't look at her for weeks. Although I was pretty relieved because at least a week before that, I had about twenty Playboys in there! I can't remember why I moved them but at least she didn't know the extent of my wanking! She probably thought, "Oh how cute. One magazine! And the centerfold is an African-American lady. My boy ain't no jerk off racist!" instead of thinking, "How many fucking porn mags does he need? Does he do anything but jerk off? Oh God! I'm not touching anything of his ever again! Plus isn't this copy of Penthouse the one with an underage Traci Lords?! I wonder how much that will be worth in thirty years?" Of course she thought that last thought not realizing that thirty years later, it would be considered child porn. No, I don't own it anymore, you pervs. I threw out all of those porn mags when I went to college because I didn't know where to hide them! Also I was underage when looking at the Traci Lords' Penthouse so it wasn't weird. She was older than me in those pictures!

#Dave Sim #Cerebus

[random-thought-depository]

My most significant reaction to this essay is to think that “create a haven for outcasts and a paradise for bohemians, with lots of warm connections of mutual support and fun between people who don’t fit in with broader society” is a much better goal than “save the world.”

“Create a haven for outcasts and a paradise for bohemians, with lots of warm connections of mutual support and fun between people who don’t fit in with broader society” is a goal that a small number of people with moderate access to resources can actually achieve. You just need to find these people and convince them to associate with each other and support each other, and the infrastructure for that is pretty cheap in the internet age, and the rationalist subculture already has the infrastructure for that. As a form of altruism, I think it’s pretty cost-effective. A person’s whole life can often be turned in a better direction with as little as a few thousand dollars. A single moderately affluent person can make an enormous difference to the lives of five or six or a dozen other people this way. I guess it’s not as efficient as mosquito net charities or something like that, but I think it’s probably much better than, say, contributing money to Friendly AI research (I suspect that by the time we actually build general AI any Friendly AI research we cook up now will be at best historically significant philosophical texts that introduced some important general concepts but are hopelessly outdated when they discuss the meat and potatoes of programming, at worst the equivalent of Medieval physicians writing elaborate treatises about the subtleties of the four humors theory of medicine).

I think “create a mutual support community for eccentric nerds” is also likely to be a very satisfying form of altruism (which, among other things, means less risk of burn-out). You’re helping “your people,” and every day you’ll interact with people whose lives have been obviously and tangibly bettered by your actions. Your altruism will be part of a network of mutual support and “thick” social connections between people who like each other and feel personal loyalty to each other, which is a very time-tested and successful formula (it’s a strategy that has a lot of problems too, sure, but it has some actually very nice features).

By contrast, “save the world” is... probably beyond the power of a small group of people with moderate resources, even if that’s a group that trends more affluent and smarter than average. I mean, taken at face value, “save the world” is a problem that has absorbed a significant fraction of humanity’s total intelligence and resources for literally centuries. Big concrete steps toward “saving the world” (such as, say, inventing commercially viable fusion reactors) would probably require an effort comparable to the Manhattan Project or bigger in many cases. Even “modest” steps in the “save the world” direction (such as, say, a coronavirus vaccine or a new hydroelectric dam) tend to be quite skill-intensive and technology-intensive and/or resource-intensive.

Compared to the status quo of 1800 C.E. the world has been saved, but it was mostly done by a strategy that looked very different from the high rationalist “get a small number of smart people together with the explicit goal of saving the world” strategy. The actual historically successful world-saving strategy was a huge number of people working to solve a huge number of more specific problems that were only tangentially related to saving the world. “Get a relatively small number of smart enlightened people with the right mindset together and set them to work with the explicit goal of saving the world” reminds me more of science fiction, specifically of Isaac Asimov’s concept of the Foundation, and I honestly wonder if that’s mostly where the idea came from (I observe that “member of the Foundation” is an aspirational social role that’s very ego-pleasing and seductive to a book-smart “gifted” eccentric who doesn’t fit in well with mainstream society; y’know, the kind of person likely to be attracted to science fiction and rationalist subculture).

For a small number of people with moderate access to resources, “Create a haven for outcasts and a paradise for bohemians, with lots of warm connections of mutual support and fun between people who don’t fit in with broader society” is an easily achievable goal. For a small number of people with moderate access to resources, “save the world” is at best going to inspire a lot of useful efforts that contribute to that project, but at worst it’ll be like twenty people trying to level a mountain with hand tools; a lot of effort expended accomplishing very little (I think the big danger for such a group is getting seduced into pouring their efforts into a glamorous and seductive but probably futile moon-shot; something like “instead of this hard grinding work of actually saving the world, maybe we can just build a friendly super-AI that will do it for us!”).

Also, I think “save the world” is a community recruitment pitch that’s likely to disproportionately attract people who are scrupulous-in-the-badbrains-sense, fanatical, narcissistic, or some combination of those things. Frank Herbert once made this observation about politics:

“All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible.” - Frank Herbert, Chapterhouse: Dune.

I think Frank Herbert identified a real recurring problem with managerial institutions here. Politicians and bosses are high on my list of people I’d be a little wary of dating or being friends with, because I strongly suspect that becoming a politician or a boss really does select for narcissism and authoritarian tendencies. I think you almost have to be a little narcissistic or have significant authoritarian tendencies to look around and think “the world would be better if other people were forced to obey me!” I think this effect contributes to many of the institutional and social pathologies of governments, businesses, and other hierarchical organizations. Likewise, I think you almost have to be at least little narcissistic to hear the high rationalist recruitment pitch of “we’re assembling a team of smart enlightened people who are exceptionally suited to saving the world, so we can save the world!” and think “I’m a smart enlightened person who’s exceptionally suited to saving the world, I belong on that team!” Please don’t feel too personally attacked if that description sounds like an uncharitable description of you, being a little narcissistic is a common personality trait, and part of the reason for that is you probably actually are better than average at the things you like and are good at … but I’d be wary of joining a community with a recruitment pitch that selects for narcissism and fanaticism, and I’d be wary of making such a recruitment pitch for a community I belong to.

I will note that, as an unquantified System 1 impression, I feel there’s a very cloudy but noticeable correlation between how close a piece of writing is to high rationalism and how much it’s infused with a miasma of a lot of the things I find most off-putting about the rationalist subculture; elitist contempt for ordinary people, very self-important vision of rationalist subculture’s role, cult of smartness attitudes, mix of vaguely Randian, Nietzschean, and Protestant work ethic attitudes, libertarian-adjacent politics that implicitly reflects the biases and class interests of affluent tech-company workers.

#rationalist culture #epistemic status: a little contrarian but also serious

[jackbabewang]

Love starts with J

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader Genre: High school au, Fluff, Romance Word Count: 3,720

You have a huge crush on Jaehyun and almost everyone knows that, even the boy himself. He never once said anything about it, but he never pushed you away though, not being all affectionate either. Or not.

Note: Inspired by Chinese web drama, “A love so beautiful”.

“____, you need to get onto the chair to clean the windows.” Your class president, Soomi, ushered, shoving a piece of microfiber cloth into your hands.

She was one of the names on your bitch list, for always making you do the tough tasks that tested your abilities, and mainly because she was all over Jaehyun.

You find it ridiculous and rather unnecessary of her to go up to his table every so often to ask about classwork. Duh, she was a higher-ranking student for a reason.

However being the nice guy Jaehyun was, he never refused to teach, always having this customer service tone and a gentle smile plastered on his handsome face. While you ended up sulking in jealousy all the time.

“M-me?”

She could’ve asked someone to do the job, someone taller or a guy instead. It seems like she has the equal grudge on you. Was it because of Jaehyun? Most likely.

It was like a battle of getting his attention, where you were pretty sure you had the upper hand. You couldn’t deny that you were attractive in some kind of way, the only flaw was your height—which was something you had a love-hate relationship with. You totally dislike it when people would pick on you for being short. Correct. You were referring to Soomi, because nobody does that anymore but her.

With a brave heart, you stepped onto the chair. Somehow it was wobbly under your feet, and you still couldn’t manage to reach the highest window with your not-so-long arms.

“Just get onto the table then,” she huffed out a breath, impatient, as if you were being deliberately obtuse.

You glanced over your friend who was watching you in concern as you leaped onto the said surface. She was about to open up until a muscular arm circled your waist from behind. In a swift motion, you were brought back to the ground and the cloth snatched from your grasp.

“Don’t be stupid.” Jaehyun said coldly and gave you the broom he was holding, supposingly he was in charge for sweeping the floor. 

When it comes to Jaehyun, it was like you had lost a few brain cells. If people were to call you a fool, they were absolutely right. You were a fool for him. You would stare at him with heart eyes in class for as long as you could remember. You never shy away to initiate a conversation, walked by his side and even waited for him below the apartment where you both lived next door just so you could get to school together. You were like his shadow—wherever he is, there you will be.

“Jaehyun…” You began, batting your lashes at him and he knew too well the acts you would put on when you wanted something.

“What?” He asked as he got onto his bike, planning to leave you behind like he usually did and instantaneously you would follow. But not this time. You couldn’t.

“My bike got stolen yesterday when I left it outside the library… Do you mind giving me a ride?” Your eyes casted downwards, fiddling with your fingernails like a little girl.

Much to your expectation, Jaehyun replied with heavy sarcasm. “If you left twenty minutes earlier, you would’ve reached school by now. This won’t give you the reason to leech off someone. Use your brain for matters like these.”

What an asshole. An attractive asshole. How badly you wanted to rip off his head sometimes.

You just stood there dejectedly, kicking little pebbles with your worn out sneakers, skittering them across each other with the scraping sound of rock hitting rock.

“Quit standing there. You’re going to make us late.” He grumbled as he turned to look at you, going from depressed to a ball of happiness as you skipped to the rear seat of his handy bike.

“You’re heavy,” he heaved, as if you really weigh that much.

You swang your feet joyfully and the bike moved unsteadily to your childish behaviour. Almost instinctively, or not, you clung yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist and you pressed your face against his back.

“Slow down!” You screeched, snuggling closer if it’s even possible, and you had this warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“Like I can even go any faster with a sack of potatoes behind me,” he rolled his eyes and they flickered between the road and your tightening grip around his abdomen. A small smile adorning his face uncontrollably.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the humidity was low. A cool gust of wind caressed your face and the breeze fingered your hair as Jaehyun pedaled down the street heading to school. You wished you could freeze this moment and live in it forever.

“What do you want?” Jaehyun questioned, uninterested. He kept outpacing you with his long strides but you still caught up despite owning a pair of legs that was half the length of his.

“I just want to talk to you,” you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on your feet, you were happy-go-lucky.

“I know you. You always say ‘no’ when you were meaning to say ‘yes’, telling me to ‘get lost’ when you meant ‘take me, I’m yours’,” he snickered at this, but quick to conceal it.

You continued on with your jibber jabber, babbling on about the new guy, Taeyong, in your class who was like a long-lost friend of yours, about him winning first place in the street dance competition and invited you to the celebratory dinner.

“It was a feast-”

“Are you done? I’m tired to death from listening to you talking non-stop.” He barked, a sudden look of anger on his face.

“J-Jaehyun… Are you mad?” Your hands dropped to your sides, shoulders slumped as you asked timidly. He’s never been this angry, not even once.

“And stop following me around. You’re annoying.” Turning, he was about to walk away when you argued back.

“Why do you have to be so mean to me? Just because I like you doesn’t mean you can lash out at me as you please!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, feeling a rush of anger before it emerged as crying.

With that being said, he clicked his tongue the way he did sometimes when he’s frustrated. He turned around to face you again, “Did I ever ask you to like me in the first place?”

Spewing his venom with the worst words, it was all too much to take in. You couldn’t hold back your tears. They poured forth as if someone had opened up floodgates, racing down your face and you could taste the saltiness of them as they reached your quivering lips. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Yeah, you didn’t. It was my fault for having feelings on you.”

“Glad you knew.” He looked straight at you and said coldly. 

Did he hate you that much? All this while? 

You never understood the bitterness of unrequited love until then. Crushing on someone whose feelings for you weren’t reciprocated sucks. It hurts even more when that person happened to be Jaehyun.

The following days just turned bad.

“____, let’s eat!” Lisa chirped with a bubbly tone, Taeyong stood by her side.

“I can’t. You guys can leave without me.” It was unusual for you to turn down food. Your eyes were glued to the half written essay as you shooed them off.

By the time you were done, lunch break just ended and you were left to starve.

“Here, I got this for you.” A nicely wrapped sandwich was placed on your table when your stomach started growling and you were met with a pair of kind eyes.

“Enjoy, little one.” Taeyong reached over to ruffle your hair. He was truly a heaven-sent angel.

To someone, he was more of a devil.

“Thank you! You’re the best- Oh, Soomi!” You called over your class president who had just walked past your table, collecting assignments from students. She carried a stack of papers an inch thick in her arms, they were enough to rebuild the rainforests.

“Soomi,” there was another voice above yours, one you could easily recognized.

“Take this.” Jaehyun slid a cling-film wrapped sandwich onto the pile of papers, right above your essay sheet, and you felt a spike of infuriating jealousy straight through your chest.

Ever since the heated conversation with Jaehyun, you no longer waited for him to and fro school and your residence. You would get up at six in the morning just to avoid bumping into him. You didn’t even spare him a glance, because that would only remind you of his rude behavior the day before.

And for those reasons, you had gotten even closer with Taeyong, together with Lisa, you guys made up the trinity.

Taeyong was far better than Jaehyun in many ways, a complete opposite besides his good looks. He was charming, you had to admit that. His big doe-eyes twinkling every time he speaks and he was always attentive to your words with a heart-fluttering smile on his face. 

He offered rides home when you were yet to get a new bike and there was once, or twice, you came across Jaehyun on your way back. The other where he was locking up his bike below the apartment, apparently.

“____, try this.” Taeyong brought a piece of kimbap to your face, brown orbs sparkling with mischief, mirroring Lisa’s.

“It’s really good. I swear.” She beckoned, and the boy popped the whole piece into your mouth.

From one second to the next, there was an elevation of burning in your tongue and nasal. The stinging caused your eyes to water, nostrils flaring from the heat.

The expression on your face was priceless and the duo clutched on their stomachs as they laughed their heads off.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. He pulled that prank on me first so we had to.” Her body shook, with gasps in breathings, in tremulous laughing.

“There, there…” Something about you made Taeyong wanted to pat your head like a puppy. He brought sheets of tissues to your face, urging you to blow your runny nose.

On the other hand, Jaehyun couldn’t fail to see and witnessed the commotion took place when they were being so loud. What he saw before his very eyes was the final straw, he was seriously ticked off at Taeyong’s babying.

Without a warning he trudged down the hallway and dragged you by the back of your collar, breaking away from your friends.

“W-what? Jaehyun?” You shrieked with your mouth full, squirming in attempt to free yourself, followed by the scuffle of your feet on the floor tiles as you struggled to catch up his pace.

He came to a halt by a vending machine situated in a spacious corner of the hallway. A small carton of milk was much needed right now for you to soothe the pain.

“You’re really stupid,” he said with a simple directness. Leaning forward with open palm facing upwards, he was expecting you to pull out some money from your pocket. However, you spat the remaining content out of your mouth instead, earning a hiss from Jaehyun.

“That’s disgusting! I swear-” he couldn’t finish the sentence when he caught your sniffling. You looked like a total mess. 

Immediately he tossed the sticky mass to a nearby garbage can and rinsed his hand under the rushing water. He grabbed a hold of your nape and pulled your face closer to the wash basin.

You exhaled on reflex as he pinched your nose with his thumb and index finger, helping you to clear your stuffy nose.

When you were sure that you got it all out, he tugged on your nose teasingly one last time before releasing his grip.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking anywhere but his eyes. You couldn’t just give in to him that easily, he hurt you deeply and he needed to feel the guilt. He deserved such cold treatment.

“Was that how you look that day after crying? That ugly?” Jaehyun was as determined. Still, he wouldn’t hold back his tongue even at times like this. A short ‘you’re welcome’ from him would be greatly appreciated.

“I did not cry.” But your heart reacted otherwise, it was pounding in your chest. The fight didn’t even last a week.

He snorted and took a step towards you, “If you say so.” A familiar mocking glint flashed across his eyes.

“The basketball team is having a party this weekend. Come with me.”

You blinked at him, wondering how he could possibly to have the audacity to demand something from you after acting like an absolute douche bag.

That would be a big fat no.

“Okay.”

At some point that day, you discovered that Jaehyun hated social gatherings when he pressed himself just a little bit too close to you and whispered, “Do something. Get us out of here.”

You eyed him, quizzically, then you felt his foot nudging you lightly under the table.

With that, you called upon your inner drama queen as you clutched onto your stomach, bending forward and you cried out in pain, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Ah!” 

So he went along with it. His arm came around your shoulders, wearing a look of worry in his face.

“My girlfriend wasn’t feeling very well. I’ll have to get her to the clinic.” He said, hurriedly. “Sorry guys.”

It happened in a flash and no one commented about it afterward. But it was difficult for you to remain calm, even in a safe and comfortable situation, when your heart was pounding against your chest and your hands sweaty.

“D-did you just say ‘girlfriend’?” As though you doubted your hearing.

“You have a problem with that?” He questioned back like it wasn’t really a big deal. The tips of his ears glowed a vivid, embarrassed red, but his face was stern.

And you thought it was from the blistering cold.

“No, no. Not at all.” The corner of your mouth tugged upwards into an uncontrolled smile, a scream welled up inside you. You thought you would burst like a piñata full of confetti.

Soon you reached home and went up to your room. You then freshened up and changed to your pink polka-dot pyjamas. You were tossing and turning in bed and you just couldn’t fall asleep. The scenario from before played over and over at least a hundred times in your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard your phone ring. It was sitted on your bedside table.

“Who’s ringing at this hour?” You groaned and you reached forward to your phone. The time was almost eleven. You noted the caller ID, which read ‘💩Jaehyun’ with a phone number underneath.

You squealed immediately and started jumping up and down.

“Hello?” You answered, a little out of breath, as you tried to hold back the excitement.

You thought you heard him chuckle on the other end of the line before he cleared his throat.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Oh, I have to study for the test next week.” 

“Alright then. I was only thinking about asking you to lunch. If you’re busy then just forget about it-”

“No!” You quickly denied, fingers twitching in a nervous rhythm.

“I mean.. We can. The test wasn’t that important anyway.”

At that moment, it wasn’t. The only thing that mattered now was Jaehyun, your crush for nearly three years, your best friend, your everything. And you promised yourself that you would cram the night before the test and stay up whole night studying.

“So…” You dragged the word out, “Is this a date?” You were dying to know, whether it was a dream, a hallucination, was it even real?

“What do you think? Food tasting?” He said, sarcastically.

“See! You always talk like that. How am I even supposed to figure out what you were thinking,” you stabbed your fork into the plate of spaghetti, tiny splat of tomato sauce stained the table cloth.

“Why? Should I call you ‘baby’, ‘princess’, something like that?”

Although the words came out as a question, the way they sounded in his voice did something to you. Your heart skipped a beat and almost stopped. It took you a few minutes to regain your composure.

“Can you?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“No.”

Night air, good conversation, and a sky full of stars. It was the simple things in life that were the most extraordinary. Scratch the part about good conversation. Jaehyun barely spoke and it was you who did all the talking, as per usual.

It was funny. That you still felt like a little girl when you were around him. You had always come up with a bunch of weird, rhetorical questions, some that even have no answers to.

“Why is water wet?”

“Do fish sleep?”

“What if their parents were waiting for them at home? Think about it before you squash an ant.”

Jaehyun wasn’t weirded out by them though. There were tricky ones that really tested his intelligence and triggered his brain. Nonetheless, he kinda liked your constant blabbering and often he found himself drowning into your world of fantasies.

The park was quiet as you both took a stroll through the landscaped property. Too quiet to your liking that you could feel the awkwardness growing like mold on bread.  

“Jaehyun, have you heard this song before…”

“What?”

“I’ll sing it to you…”

Things will go better if you just hold my hand Nothing can come between us if you just Hold my, hold my, hold my hand

You started singing the lyrics and you tilted over, searching his face for any kind of reaction. It was straightforward and pretty much symbolized what you wanted. If he were to not get the meaning, he must be dumb. However there were no obvious changes in his expression.

Just when you felt deflated like a popped balloon, Jaehyun slipped his hand into yours. His large hand, tan and strong, seemed to engulf your own. Instantly, your stomach felt all fluttery inside, as if a flock of butterflies were flying around in there. Blood crept up to your cheeks and you turned to a giggling, blushing mess.

“Can we interlock our fingers?” It was never enough, you could never get enough of him. You yearned for his affection.

“No.”

Okay, maybe you were asking too much from him.

And once again without a word, you felt him shifted his fingers so they entwined with yours and he caressed your thumb. You bit your lip and grinned, gazing briefly at your intimately intertwined fingers, dangling in between.

Oh boy, he made you feel things you’ve never felt before. It was overwhelming.

Jaehyun was easy to push, easy to manipulate like middle schoolers. He wasn’t entirely what you expected. Even though he was a bit of pain in the ass, most of the time, he still gave in to you in the end.

It was one of those nights, you went out on ‘dates’ at the park nearby your neighbourhood. Anywhere further wasn’t feasible because one, you both couldn’t drive just yet, and it was a hassle to take the bus. Situation like that, your bike would come in handy right? But it was still a ‘no’ from Jaehyun. You didn’t press on either.

Sitting on the park bench, near the freshly manicured bushes and hedges. The night lights transformed the place into fairyland of colours and shadows. There were crickets that delighted your ears with the intrinsic beauty of the sounds they emit. It wasn’t that bad actually, you thought to yourself.

“Did you spray on perfume?” Jaehyun asked out of nowhere.

Darn it. The fragrance must have been very intense for him to point it out. You wanted to slap yourself for actually listening to Lisa’s advice, “Look nice. Be nice. Smell nice.”

In attempt to make it less obvious, you slid further against the bench, widening the gap between.

“It was the ointment I applied for mosquito bites…” You squeaked in a too-small voice.

“But it doesn’t smell like it.”

“I applied some eucalyptus oil on top of it.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know. Stop asking!”

He laughed the kind of boyish laugh that made you feel so comfortable talking to him. It was like pure music to your ears, all the music you needed and your heart lifted.

“____, come here.” Jaehyun said quietly, staring off into distance.

“Why?”

“Let me kiss you.”

His voice sounding calm and emotionless, that you thought he didn’t mean the words he said. However there wasn’t the slightest hint that it was an elaborate prank. 

“I m-might be bad at it-”

“Three… two…”

Almost immediately you slid back to his side and you squeezed your eyes shut tight. Your hands shaking more furiously than before, your heartbeat accelerated in your chest, anticipating.

Jaehyun bent down slowly, reverently, his eyes locked on your mouth. His lips hovered a hair’s breadth away from yours.

He studied your face for a moment, smiling to himself, tipping your face forward with a fingertip under your chin.

Once, twice; little pecking kisses, then he pressed his lips fully against yours. Soft and sweet, he took his time with each and every kiss. His lips, warm and tender, molded to yours with exquisite care. You felt it to your toes, an utter explosion of love.

Heavenly day. The kiss slow and gentle, the first and the best you had in your life.

Your mouth hasn’t shut up about him since he kissed it. The idea that he may kiss it again was stuck in your brain.

It’s kinda cool how it happened, that you ended up together, in which, what was once your dream has turned into reality.

There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart. You were glad you didn’t give up your feelings for him in the way you sworn to yourself that you would. It wasn’t that easy to let it go either, because it’s Jung Jaehyun we’re talking about!

“You’re really stupid.”

“Stop calling me that!”

And that’s how you both lived happily, happily, happily ever after.

#nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct soft hours #nct stories