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distant--shadow · 7 months

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get to know meme

lil thing where I'll give a bit too much detail so it fills its purpose, honoured honestly to be tagged by three of my favourite writers in this space @sharkodactyl, @unicyclehippo , and @astoriacolumnstaircase - anyone reading this should be reading their works instead.

favourite colour: brown(s), like a mid to a dark tone, i like them to have a bit of red involved. like our old-boy chet, I love the wood. my dream home would be all wood-panelled with built in inlayed and set back shelves and nooks a plenty and yeah just full of brik-a-brak. otherwise my favourite colours are navy blue and greens that are more mixed with blue than yellow, teals and emeralds and once again generally around the mid tones. green makes me very happy. moss and outdoors and all that.

currently reading: fic. haha. (suss my recommend reading tag) I did venture out to my (very) local queer bookshop and asked them for something that won't send me on a spiral if I'm already on one/provide some escapism and they reccomended river of teeth by Sarah gailey. anyone I've said about it to seems real enthusiastic about it, I am not well read at all when it comes to published things, tend to just get really into a few fandom authors works and picking them apart (rereading a lot) . still haven't started it but maybe I'll try take it out to the park in the next week or so. I'm dabbling in reading (and unfortunately writing) poetry thanks to @picturesofthegoneworlds and @blorbotomy 's influence, those mini books are fun to keep on you when out and about, poem or two on a tree stump or boulder with a grand vista and a brain that wants eyes on a phone screen.

last song: last song I consciously (not background music) listened to was:

youtube

I went on an early lord snow stint the other night because the air smelt crisp and there was a nice chill. they have remained my favourite heavy (as a broad term) band for a decade now.

I used to have music on all of the time, whether that be cd's at home or in my mp3 player (that I still take out with me) but these days I find listening more of an intentional activity and I prefer to have people just nattering when I'm at home and want background noise. think it's where my heads at and I've just got more sensitive to being overstimulated I guess. I was also pretty good at going to a live gig at least once a week before I did my back in, looking forward to getting into that habit again.

last series: I don't watch much stuff outside of critical role, least other than YouTube videos I'll put on whislt I'm drawing. oh wait yeah I ordered 3 seasons of xena on ebay because it's like a couple of quid a season and it is a real good comfort show and fucking amazing. I hadn't seen it since I was pre teen and it was on day time TV and I'd catch it on sick days. the amount of people I've brought it up to these past few months who've been so stoked to be reminded of it/eager to watch it with me is actually hilarious.

last movie: uhhhh God movies I watch even less. I haven't been to a cinema in over 12 years now, just not my thing, and it's funny caus my mum used to work in the film and TV industry and we had shelves and shelves full of VHS growing up (mostly bootlegged) and she can just ramble about pretty much any early era film up to the stuff from the 80s (when she was working on em) for days. never could sit through em, never felt satisfied with how the story went. guess that's why actual play appeals to me. but saying all this I did rewatch Bound for the first time since I was like 15 last month or so, enjoyed it a lot more than I did back then.

sweet/savory/spicy: savory all day. I am a salt fiend. I used to think I'd be fortunate enough to die from my salt intake. I'll put it on anything. cereal, toast, fruit. I think the other day I noted the one thing I wouldn't put it on, but I can't recall that right now honestly. it's gotta be decent salt too, sea salt or rock salt that has some texture and delicious flavour, I'm not fucking with that table salt shit. I carry salt with me in a mini mason jar everywhere I go, saves when you only have access to bland cold supermarket food. one of my earliest memories is when I was like 6 I had had my daily 1 glass allowance of squash/fruit cordial in my white Tom and Jerry printed beaker with the accordion bendy straw and so when I was pouring myself a glass of water from the tap I put salt in it caus I wanted flavour that would not show through the white translucent container. it's all been downhill from there, although I also, luckily I guess caus otherwise I would be really fucked, do drink a lot of water.

currently working on: myself and healing. hah. I never realised how much paperwork and phone calls came with this maintenance shit. I'm still out of work, and my mental health has taken a huge hit from not being able to do the things I usually would. so right now I'm just trying to keep everything together. I can draw again though, so sorry about that.

I never know who to tag in these things caus I don't think everyone wants to do them. so I'll go with this being open invite as always. hope anyone who read this far is having a good week, and sentiment is still there even if you didn't read this (unless you don't deserve my well wishes, then fuck you.)

#Youtube

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moltengoldveins · 1 month

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here are my New Year’s resolutions, three months late at the blooming of spring (the proper time to be making such bawdy promises.) :

I will not tell my roommate to stop singing when it bothers me, unless it is early morning and I am asleep. I have headphones and can escape whatever I feel I need to escape whenever I please; she has a right to joy and happiness in her space. There is nothing so precious as someone singing.

I will take my meds (lie) and I will drink as much water as I possibly can (true.)

I will not let my various disorders prevent me from loving the people around me. They may do so anyway, but I will not let them. That is a distinction I do not think a lot of people understand.

i will call my sisters.

I will talk to children under the age of ten. I will do so with the intent of making friends with them. They are better friends than most people who have aged out of loving well.

i will tell stories aloud.

I will illustrate a book.

I will do enough homework to pass my classes.

Every time I am drowning, I will tell at least one person. They don’t need to be someone I think can do something about it. I have a terrible burning need to be witnessed, lest I loose track of myself and where I stand according to reality, and so I must not keep silent when I am dying. There is no virtue in quiet suffering when noise will ease the burden.

i will ask to pet every non-working dog I see.

I will use my cane when I need to. Even if my family wishes I wouldn’t. I will. I will.

i will find a way to pay for college. This is a hard one, but it will happen, whether I like it or not. I am supposed to be here, so a window will appear. My job is to be ready when it does.

i will sleep.

i will swim in at least two natural rivers.

i will write poems.

i will read the New Testament. I wanted to say I’d read the whole Bible, but I know myself. If I set too high a goal, I won’t reach it. So, I’m going to read the stuff with Jesus in it, and then the stuff written by the people who met Him. That seems like a decent goal, anyways.

i will hold the base of my friend’s skulls when they hug me. This is not a resolution: I already do it. But it’s nice to see it in writing and know it is real.

i will leave my legs unshaven if I please, no matter what people tell me is ‘clean’ or ‘unclean.’ We did away with ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ over two thousand years ago; we nailed it to a bloody piece of wood and gutted it there. My friends can touch me every day of the month, and (Lord, may it never be so,) I can hold them after they die. I am already clean. Nothing can make me dirty again. I owe people respect and respectability, love and understanding, modesty and integrity. I do not owe them my comfort on a stick.

i will forgive my parents for what their parents did to them. They did the best they could, and I respect them for it. I love them despite it.

i will do better than they did.

i will tell my sisters I love them.

i will tell my father I love him.

i will tell my mother I love her.

i will tell myself ‘I love you.’

When I see spiderwebs in my rear view mirrors, or sunshine on the carpet at 5:47pm, or tomatoes on a vine, or a monarch butterfly, or moss, or a leather bound book, or an old married couple, or a child under five, or the sarcoma ribbon on my backpack, or the creek near my apartment, or a beautiful painting in my social media feed, or a photograph of my aunt that looks just like me, or a pen my friend let me borrow that I never returned, or the sunshine prismed through my glasses chain, or a million other wonders, I will tell God how very very much I love Him.

#New years resolution #molten rambles #love you all <3 #Drink water

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chai-hat-tea · 4 months

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2023 writing self evaluation

I was tagged by the bestest and my favourite @beardyboyzx ❤️❤️

1. List of works published this year:

Oh man this is kinda long lol:

Basic White Bitch

Heat Waves

Read Like a Headline

The Lonely Dance of my Despair

Share a Single Page

Wish it Could be the Same as it was

Saved you to Find me

Twogether we’re Alone, and we’re Finally Home

And if you’re Thinking of me, I’m Probably Thinking of you

Saving Sweet Creature

Sweet Merry Loumas

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

All of them! Writing was hard for me on many levels, so to pull these off, I’m very very happy about it. And I’ve also not fully hated (more like cringed hard) reading my works so I guess that’s improvement

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Well no I’m proud of all of them, but what I’m not proud about is how I finished everything so last minute and I mostly wrote only one shots/short fics. Nothing was over 10k really.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I think the poem in The Lonely Dance of my Despair. Because I was originally going to copy a poem off the Internet but I felt so wrong and guilty for doing that and then I whipped this baby up in less than 5 minutes. Didn’t think I had it in me:

How can life go on

When I feel stuck here.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide

Life has left me far behind.

How can the rainbow disappear

When every colour bleeds into oblivion

The remnants of them leaving gashes

Deeper than the sadness that lays within

How can time fly

When I know not what or who am I

As the clock ticks by

I feel further lost outside

How can I go on

When everything holds me back

Chains me down in the trenches

And my magic sinks deeper in

As the escape moves fast ahead

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I don’t receive a lot of comments, but I’m blessed and lucky that all the comments I receive are only positive and encouraging. Also, I can’t choose. All comments are great comments (unless they’re meant to be nasty).

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Oh the entire year lol. I’ve been in the worst place mentally, so writing on top of real life was so so hard. I’m glad to simply pull this off.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I’ve had a bunch of those. I don’t remember the specifics, but when I read a few of my fics, I was so surprised I managed to come up with things. And during the wordplay fest, I also wrote for the travelling fic fest and so I legit had no time to read what I wrote because I was having the worst time at school (as a teacher, not a student thankfully) so I literally wrote and posted whatever @beardyboyzx betaed without checking. To the point I didn’t even know what I was writing. Literally functioned on autopilot that month. And then she would tell me about a scene she found adorable and I would blank out because I didn’t even realise I wrote it. So yeah, I think that’s pretty cool.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I grew because I didn’t cringe or get embarrassed while reading my fic? I think that’s a decent growth.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

The year didn’t start great, so I don’t know what to expect for the rest of it. But I do hope I somehow learn to stop procrastinating and pushing everything to the last minute. I’ve also noticed a sort of pattern in the way I write and I hope I can break that and learn to write differently.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Oh @beardyboyzx and @thinlinez have been literal saviours. I’ve had proper meltdowns that both have helped me through differently and I’m so so thankful to have met both of them and can talk to them about everything apart from the fandom and fic. Like no amount of thank yous can ever suffice.

I met a lovely, kind human in @always-in-love-x and she’s helped me so much the past year! I can’t wait to implement what we planned this year!!

Shoutout to @kisochkalena for helping me out with moodboards as well! If I had to make moodboards on top of writing my fics during wordplay and travelling fic fests, I would’ve cried proper tears.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Oh yeah plenty! I don’t want to get into specifics but yes there was a bit.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Just write. Don’t focus on the hits, kudos, and comments. I know it’s easier said than done, but you first need to do this for yourself than others. Validation is temporary and fickle, it’s always going to be you.

13. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

Would love to know about @jaerie, @greenfeelings and @mercurial-madhouse! Anyone else who sees this is welcome too :))

#tag games

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chaoticaptendyte · 1 year

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Get to know me :3

Was tagged by @grippysockgang :3

1. Are you named after anyone?

Apparently after a sri-lankan first lady

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh well yesterday afternoon i had a terrible bout of acidity after lunch and everything hurt so bad that tears came to my eyes, does that count?

3. Do you have kids?

Nope, i mean i am only 20. But i want to one day, two kids, I'd love if they're twins too

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Uhhhh not really no, i use it to the normal extent ig

5. What is the first thing you notice about a person?

Hm, damn i people watch on the train everyday and yet i cannot for the life of me tell u this. I suppose the way they're dressed? And then their hands maybe 👀

6. What is your eye color?

Dark chocolatey pools for you to drown in :)

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

I am actually scared of horror so no, not scary movies EVER unless i have someone to cuddle into and can hide my face in their chest okie. Once my friends forced me to watch conjuring, i spent a month thinking my mom's possessed. Happy movies ftw. Forever.

8. Any special talents?

Hmmmmmm, idk lemme see. I think I'm kinda a decent photographer. I can cook well, don't do it often cause college and I'm kinda lazy and my mom does it for us anyway but yea. Oooohhh, I'm the official taster in our family. Anytime anyone is cooking anything and they need to know if the balance is right or something they come to me :3 which is pretty cool, i guess that counts as special.

9. Where were you born?

In an operation room ✌🏻. I was a C baby. Refused to grow any further so they had to pull me out.

10. What are your hobbies?

Um well it's been a while since I've done some of them tbh butttt- cooking, painting(watercolours), writing poems and fanfic and stuff, origami?, stargazing on my roof, doodling(which i do all the time actually), uhm watching shows and listening to music if it counts? There's prolly others too, just can't think of it rn. Ooh reading too, but it's been a while.

11. Do you have any pets?

Nope🥲, I've always wanted a dog though, a little shih tzu or fox terrier. And somehow my feed everywhere is always full of cats. I used to have goldfish but they kinda died extremely brutal deaths 💀💀💀 they kinda got sucked into the water filter cause the suction was too strong and got kinda uh shredded and another time one of the fish kima uhhh ate all the others 💀💀💀 so haven't got anything after that

12. What sports do you/have you played?

Rn i don't play anything, but i used to play pretty much all of em in school- badminton, tt, basketball, throwball, volleyball, football, cricket. Oh and i played pool once tho idk if it counts. Board games too lol.

13. How tall are you?

5'6 ^w^

14. Favorite subject in school?

Science :3 especially physics and biology. But i also loved English just as much tbhhh. Had a phase where i was super into history and geography too and also in like the fifth grade and twelfth i was super into math, like the satisfactionnnn of solving a problem is just *mwa*

Basically I've liked everything at some point

15. Dream job!

Honestly, not having one. That's my dream. I just wanna live in a nice little cottagecore world and bake pjes and cookies and just take care of the house and chill in the farm and look out at the world everyday and be content. If i could I'd love in the 'Anne with an E' world. Or in the hundered acre woods in a treehouse with Christopher Robin <3

This was funn, @astr0-j4y @gamerboyafterdark @alt3r-ego wanna join in?

#me #mine

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fallynleaf · 2 months

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i'm on track to put the most amount of work into the least read fics for International Fanworks Day and Femslash February this year, but i finished one extremely niche project (fanfic of a fanfic...) and am decently far along on what has got to be one of the most ambitious fics i've attempted lol (considering some of the stuff i've written, that's saying a lot). i'll just say that it's testing my pro wrestling match literacy more than any project i've attempted so far...

i also tried something WILDLY different, which is that i wrote my first story in Japanese! i've written a few senryu poems before, but that's the only thing i'd written in Japanese besides answers to textbook questions and like tweets and DMs.

a friend shared a link to Galette's (an independent yuri magazine) call for submissions for 「140文字の百合」 ("140 character yuri"), and i ended up deciding on a whim to attempt to write something. my vocab knowledge specializes so heavily in pro wrestling, though, i feel like that's sort of all i'm able to write about with any degree of confidence, so that's what i wrote lol.

i got a few friends who are fluent or near fluent to look at my story just to make sure the grammar and such was generally correct, and then i worked up the courage to ask a Japanese friend on twitter to look at it for me haha and help me make sure that it sounded natural.

my friend liked my story and only had a few tweaks to suggest, which is encouraging! i ended up being glad i tried it because it was fun for both of us.

i can't post the story here haha because i'm trying to honor the submission rules, but i'll try to remember to share it in three months. i highly doubt mine will get selected for publication in the magazine, but it's fun writing with such a tight constraint like that.

i told my friend i was going to try writing one with asexual characters next, so i've tentatively committed to attempting to write another one around may!

what else have i been up to...

i actually have been pretty caught up on my TJPW translations!! i've been doing great with time management lately, which is unusual for me lol. i'm trying to work on them for 1.5-2 hours every day until the translation is finished. then when i don't have a translation i'm working on, i've been trying to use that time for just reading in Japanese.

i started Dungeon Meshi a few days ago haha because i have an insane plan to read the first 9 volumes (+2 chapters of volume 10) and then pick up Harta volume 75 and read the whole magazine (including Dungeon Meshi chapters) from there lol. we have an informal book club going for Harta in the wanikani forum, and i got easily talked into participating, but my friend convinced me to hold off on reading the Dungeon Meshi chapters unless i was caught up (to the point where Harta 75 picks up at), so i decided i'll just get caught up first and then start Harta lol.

i was kind of worried about the difficulty level of Dungeon Meshi because i heard it had loads of relatively uncommon vocab, but i ran my digital copy of it through mokuro, and it parsed it really well, so i've found it to honestly be kind of a breeze to read, though it is a pretty wordy series, so i'm not flying through 100 pages in a day or anything like that.

the vocab is def somewhat hard, but instant lookups make that not an issue (and i can read almost all the kanji, so it's easy to look stuff up manually when mokuro makes a mistake). honestly the grammar feels generally pretty easy to me? easier than some of the dialects i've gotten stumped by in "easier" manga lol, that's for sure.

i'm really enjoying the manga so far! it's triggering a lot of my nostalgia for D&D, and i'm finding the story engaging and refreshingly different, and the art is really good. the illustrations are super clear, which is really helpful when you're trying to read in a language you're not super proficient in.

i'm wondering if it'll help me get better at reading recipes in the Japanese cookbook i own, haha. the ingredients lists in my real cookbook look almost exactly like this lol (and a lot of cooking verbs are also helpfully illustrated in the manga)

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lipstickstainz · 3 years

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true lies - s. r. (12/?)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A collection of letters Spencer and you share while you're gone - and then you're gone forever. At least, that what he thinks.

Warnings: some fluff, angst, angst, angst, smoking, slight ptsd, grief and loss

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm sososososo sorry. please don't hate me. I love you. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

Dearest little bear,

two months have passed since you had to leave, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish you were here with me.

We are trying to do everything in our power to be able to bring you back home. But unfortunately, it seems to be taking longer than I would like.

I was told you were working on it as well. You are strong and smart and even though you can't be with me, I'm sure we can do it together.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest Neruda,

I was very happy to receive your message. I always carry it with me, although I would rather be in your arms, but I can't.

I can't tell you where I am right now, but still I wish you were with me. It is warm and beautiful and I am sure you would like it here very much.

Except for these letters, I'm not allowed to talk to any of you, but I like talking to you best anyway. We've come this far. And we'll make it.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

Dearest little bear,

It's been four months and with each passing second it becomes more unbearable. But a light is appearing at the end of the dark tunnel. We think we know who she is.

It won't be long before we can see each other again. And I can't wait to be able to hug you again. To be able to touch you. Or kiss you.

Not much longer. And then nothing can separate us.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest Neruda,

It would have been too good to be with you again at last. But it still takes time.

I have found something that can help us, but for now, just know that I will do everything I can so that I can return home. Back to you. No matter what it costs.

Keep your eyes open. We're closer than you think.

I'm thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

Dearest little bear,

I was given time off to take a break. I was with my mother and she told me that a kind young lady had been here. She doesn't remember you, but she knows you are familiar and that she can trust you. As I do.

I am infinitely grateful. And I'm tired of waiting, but for you I do. For you, I do it all.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest Neruda,

I can no longer grasp a clear thought, because whenever I close my eyes I see everything I have done in review. I can hardly sleep and the nightmares plague me.

I just hope that everything will end soon. It has already been a year since we saw each other. I can't promise you anything, but I hope you know that everything I had to do was for you. For us.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

Dearest little bear,

it's been a few weeks since I've heard from you. I hope you are doing well.

We have found a trail that will take us further.And brings me a little closer to you. And that will bring you back home. I can't wait.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest little bear,

It's been two months since you wrote to me.

Get back to me as soon as you can.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest little bear,

Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Or how great the pain in my chest is.

I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe without you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest little bear,

they hung your picture today. In the portrait you are smiling, proud to finally be part of the team. I can't look at it.

I was sent home, but everything there reminds me of you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest little bear,

I keep your letters in a small box next to my bed. They are a part of you that I don't want to lose, even though I have already lost you. They are a part of you, just as you are a part of me.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

Dearest little bear,

I went to our bookstore and found a book of poems that you would like. I'll put it with your letters.

No book in the world could have prepared me for the grief I feel. The pain is too engaging for me to talk about it with anyone but you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

Dear little bear,

it's been almost two years since we last saw each other. I don't remember what you sound like, or what you smell like. Why can't I remember that? Is it wrong of me not to think it's bad? It takes away my pain a little.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

Dear little bear,

A lot has happened in the two years we've been apart. Too much to ever be able to write down all the things. I just want you to know that this time was not easy for me. Not for any of us.

I put your letters away safely because you will always be important to me. But I have to let you go. And with this, I release you.

I love you. Forever.

With love,

Neruda

You pinch your leg to wake up. Your neck is wet with cold sweat and you have to blink several times to realize that you are in a cab. You run your hand through your hair as the driver looks at you curiously through the rearview mirror. He says nothing, which is why you glance out the window.

The drive from the airport to Quantico only takes an hour, but you still take the opportunity to close your eyes for a moment and doze a little. You haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages, you don't even know what a healthy portion of sleep feels like anymore, because you haven't had that luxury in the last two years.

As the car comes to a stop in front of the FBI building, you pay the driver and get out with your small bag. The building seems much bigger than you remember. You used to spend every day here, it had once been your home. But now you're not even sure you have a home anymore.

You take a deep breath and enter through the large doors, but are directly approached by a security guard.

"Miss? Are you visiting?", he asks suspiciously, extending his arm to keep you at a distance - something that wouldn't do him much good if you were actually trying to get past him.He eyes you up and down, which you can't blame him for. In your ripped jeans, dirty sneakers, and loose sweater, you don't look like someone who belongs here. By now, you don't either.

You look at him. "I'm here to see Unit Chief Prentiss", you reply coolly. You know he's just doing his job, but you're too impatient to let all this wash over you. You know Emily is already in the office. You know her too well not to. Why doesn't he just go get her? You just want to see your friend.

"Chief Prentiss?" He raises an eyebrow. "And what is your request?"

Your gaze is rock hard and your tone cold as ice. "Tell her Y/N Y/L/N is here to see her."

You wait outside the building, letting the morning sun warm your skin and the cigarette burn between your fingers before you put it to your lips and take a drag. Afterwards, you stub it out on a trash can. As you exhale the last bit of smoke, you turn around. And there she is.

Emily is standing at the door, and when you see her, you drop your bag and wrap her in your arms so tightly that you can't breathe. You cling to her, afraid that maybe this whole thing isn't as real as it feels, but you imperceptibly pinch your arm. And she is still with you.

"I thought - they said", she stammers, and it's the first time in your friendship that she's speechless. You hug her even tighter.

"I know", you answer softly, blinking away the tears that have formed in your eyes. The moment is too beautiful to cry. As you break away from each other, Emily wipes her own tears from her cheeks, but some have already landed on her blouse. There are dark stains now.

"I don't even know what to say", she says, smiling at you as you enter the building together. The guard gives you a look, but doesn't ask any questions as you walk past him toward the elevator. Inside, she pushes a button that takes you to the BAU floor. "I can hardly believe you're really here."

Neither can you.

The office is completely silent because no one is here yet except for you. Although nothing has changed, everything has changed because you are now someone else. It's been a long time since you've been here. Two years, but everything in this room is all too familiar to you. The coffee machine, the law books, the files. It feels like you've never been away. It's déjà vu all over again.

While Emily gets you both coffee, you sit down at the round table and wait for her. Your friend sets the cups down on the table before sitting down next to you. She smiles faintly. "How are you?"

You pucker your mouth. How are you? You haven't been asked that question in ages, and to be honest, you don't know how to answer it either. How could you possibly be?

When you don't answer Emily, she phrases her question differently. "What are you feeling right now?"

Your lips become a thin line. "I don't know. It feels like all of this," you point to the room, "isn't a part of me anymore. Nothing has changed, but it still feels foreign."

Emily nods. "You've been through a lot, I guess." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're right, Y/N. Nothing has really changed here. But you're a different one now, aren't you?"

You open your mouth to answer her, but you don't know what either. Part of you feels at home here, but a bigger part of you knows your place is somewhere else. You just don't know where exactly.

"Do you want to see the others?", Emily asks. "I'm asking you because it's been a long time since you've seen them. And they think you're...you know. Are you ready for that?"

Are you ready for that? You haven't seen either of them in a long time, and it would probably be better not to see them for now, but to let Emily sort it out first. But the team is your family - the closest thing you have to a family. And you've missed them all terribly.

You nod and take a sip of your coffee as JJ and Rossi enter the room. When they see you, they glance uncertainly at Emily, as if they're not sure if it's just imagination, but she nods at them. And that's when all the dams break for JJ.

She pulls you from your chair and hugs you like the salvation of the world depends on it, and David has to pry her cramped arms from you so he can put his around you as well. They affirm to you how much they missed you and ask how you are, wanting to know what happened, but Tara and Penelope join them and that's when it gets too loud for you.

Penelope cries with joy and Tara also can't believe that you are standing in front of her. They besiege you and ask you questions to which you have no answers, so you just smile weakly at them. They definitely don't mean any harm, after all, you've just risen from the dead for them, but you've spent the last while in silence and are no longer used to this volume. So you turn away from them. They look anxiously after you as you sort of flee from them. You hope that this will make the headache go away.

Without paying much attention to where you're going, you find yourself facing the wall where the pictures of the deceased agents hang. And yours is hanging there, too. You don't know how long you've been standing in front of it - minutes? hours? -until a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N?"

You turn around and there stands Spencer. His hair is a little shorter and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Well, he sort of has.

You want to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, and never let him go. Seeing him knocks the air out of your lungs, which is why you can barely breathe. The two years without him had been hell on earth, but you got through them. For him.

For Spencer, who doesn't take his eyes off you as the blonde woman next to him, whose fingers are intertwined with his, looks at him and asks, "Honey, who's that?"

- tags -

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @lexymoniqu // @m3sml // @username2002 // @calliecookie // @haylaansmi // @thehuntresswolf // @skyslowalking // @padsfirewhisky // @criminalminds4days // @criminallyoddsocks // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @vladsgirlxx // @justdianaz // @x2moonlight2x-blog // @countingthestarsinfinitely // @box-of-fandom-stuff // @sergeantbuckybarnes // @princesssmooshie // @sassiest-politician // @ littledm2000 // @a-broken-pact // @strawberry-tea // @sassy-hades // @danrad-rdj4ever // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @smell-my-twisted-shadows // @poeticsassandtrash // @wintrrrsoldier // @peaceluvnirvana // @jemimah-b99 // @lokislilslut // @advicefromnixxxx // @panicattheeverywherekid // @my-guilty-pleasures--of-life // @itsdars @pjmjams // @imagine-this-motherfucker // @sasbb23 // @fivedicksinatrenchcoat // @missyoumaybank // @blameitonthenight21 // @s-r-16 // @knee-coall // @hamlewis // @twodirtymindedgirls // @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness // @imdefinitelyfloating // @crazyloca06 // @gardenroses1 // @saspencereid // @enchantedlove90 // @sizzlingclamturtlesludge // @moondustmemories // @bambi-is-my-name // @beg0neth0t420 // @william-shookespeare // @pancake2603 // @ayo-cowbelly // @herbstmelody // @frnks-stuff // @mimischaos // @lilxnvm // @archiveofadragon // @burnin-passion // @oddobsessionbutotay // @chaoticdreamsss // @ghostly-ginger // @knittingstudyblr // @gorbagreb // @biafbunny // @ayo-cowbelly // @ellyseveronica // @saspencereid // @takethee // @ethereal-stark // @shirayuki1204 // @spencerreidspp // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @stinkykay // @exzidss // @ifuckinghatepinapples // @youhaveabadconnection // @kaseyjohnson04 // @vampiracontessa // @princesssmooshie // @gardenroses1 // @r0s3mm // @willyoulovemeinthemorning // @rrtxcmt // @softpeteparker // @littleiswhattheycallme // @hoeyadoingbitch // @emmariexx // @oops-all-ajs / @reidemandweep // @oliwisstephhh // @g0lden-cth // @measure-in-pain // @amesandpineapples // @spencerreidat3am //

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds one shot #Emily Prentiss #tara lewis #Jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years

Note

okay I was debating on whether or not to send you a request because I was kinda nervous to put any extra work on you, but if you're not too busy, can I request a matchup for the Hobbit and/or Harry Potter? (If not that's totally okay, just pretend you didn't see this <33 and honestly I don't mind waiting, you can put this request on the bottom of the list if you need to!!)

My pronouns are she/her, with a preference for men hehe. I'm 5'6, an ENFJ 2w3, and a Virgo. My physical appearance is long blonde hair with almost fluffy bangs, blue eyes, but they're not the sparkly icy blue ones that I wish I had, they're more like deep ocean blue so they almost look black unless I'm in the sun :( I smile a lot, probably too much honestly. I'm a lil buff, (not that much, I may just say that because I lift like 10 pound weights every day😭) but I think that's all for the physical appearance.

Personality wise? Well, I'd say that I'm pretty nice. I have a lot of friends but sometimes I have to convince myself that they truly do like me, because I think I'm pretty annoying. I'm very cheerful, but sometimes it's like my body needs to balance the cheerfulness out with an overboard amount of sadness. I used to be as tough as nails, never cries, never is vulnerable, but now I am the most sensitive (as in like empathetic) person I know, I cry about almost every remotely sad movie I watch, and I overshare hehe. Also I kind of hate watching movies with my guys friends because literally like two weeks ago we watched the first LoTR and I cried when Boromir died (I've watched it like twice but it hurts every time) and they were making fun of me >:(

I would dare to say I'm probably the mom friend in the group, even though in almost all my friend groups I'm the youngest. I've been told I'm thoughtful and loving. I'd say my biggest flaw is that I am pretty anxious all the time, and I don't really think before I speak (which normally ends up being a crude joke that I regret saying immediately). What's funny is that I'm very sweet to most people, but I realized that I just match people's energy. Like I'm not usually sarcastic, but when my dad makes a joke about me, I always have a retort or something funny to say in return. I love hugs which sucks because all of my family are not big huggers.

Hobbies? I love to write basically anything, but I'm pretty good at writing poems! I wrote my friends poems for their birthday's a year ago, and it was really fun. I adore singing, but I'm not really sure if I'm good because I don't sing in front of people unless I'm forced to. I play soccer, and I used to play basketball. I don't play any instruments, but I hope to learn one someday. I know Latin, (which is pretty useless because no one speaks it, but at least I know some fun Law terms) and I've taken it for the past 8 years.

Miscellaneous: I have several pets and I love them very much, I'm pretty ok at riding horses, I keep letters that people write me on my wall, I have a decent taste in fashion (probably like light academia), I love earrings and necklaces, my favorite drink is probably lemonade, I actually skipped a grade so I'll graduate several months before I turn 18, I'm not gonna mention my type but I will say I've always liked the villians in stories or shows (probably because my favorite trope is enemies to lovers and I always see myself as a hero😭) I used to take archery courses, I adore ice cream, and I have always been an avid reader since I was 4 years old.

I think that's it! Let me know if I missed something important. Thank you so much <333

hiiiiiii maddy omg its literally an honour to work on a request for you!! dont worry about the work, at the moment my asks are not too full and luckily i’ve just finished my last exam today~ which means i finally dont have to stress as much!

hope you enjoy this <33 i did my very best! (also goddamn, 8 years of latin???? i mean i’ve been at it for pretty long myself but holy shit, thats almost a decade, i have so much respect for you)

I ship you with...

before we start down that road let me just say i gave this a hell lot of thought because there were many, many fucking options that perhaps would’ve fit just as well, but i take great pleasure in explaining my thought process to you later on <33 anyway, lets go!

Cedric Diggory!!

- Cedric works perfectly with you. Usually you’re the one people go to for advice, to get their feelings off their chest, and it can be stressing as much as you love it. But with Cedric, you don’t have to be that person. You don’t have to be the voice of reason and you don’t have to take care of others when you need to be cared for yourself. It’s not that you wouldn’t be, you do gladly look after him as well, but he’s well aware of the role you have in your friend groups, the way it’s sometimes just too much. And he doesn’t need someone to be that person for him; what he need to speaks about he will like boyfriend to girlfriend, not mistake you for a therapist. Though he could very well be yours the way he acts. When you ask him about it, he reassures you that it’s good that way, that he wants and chose it to be like that because it’s simply the refreshing dynamic the two of you have.

- Whenever you’re down, Cedric makes sure that you’re just as quickly well again. Not fine, but well, actually good. No matter if it’s just a sadness that somehow finds its way into your heart, or if it’s stress, or if it’s exhaustion from always being there for everybody. He forces you not only to heal mentally, but physically, barely letting you out of bed those days regardless of how much you huff and complain about it. The same goes for days you’re sick, especially during the holidays. At school, of course, he takes you to the hospital wing, and if you need to stay there, he does too. If he’s got classes, he’s back a minute after they finish, often with dishevelled hair, a little flower picked up on the rushed way and a crooked smile on his lips.

- He’s never really seen touch as that big of a thing, specifically just an arm draped around a shoulder or kisses to the cheek, the little things - but once he realises that it is very important to you indeed, that you melt into his every embrace and relax the second his fingers graze your skin, he becomes very aware of the stability and security it creates. He uses it not only as a way to be close to you, but as a shield, to take the burdens off your shoulders if only for one moment. He grabs your hand if he sees you tense, puts his arm around your waist whenever he’s next to you, brushes your hair behind your ear to make you smile.

- He’s just as much of a cuddler, though. The little, almost accidental, what one might see as usual touches, they’re for the both of you to recognise each others presence, but the hugs, the embraces, the resting-in-his-lap’s, they exist just the same. When you’re sitting down, he pulls you close, and when you’re standing up, he puts his arms around you from behind, and sometimes, when you’ve not seen him for too long or when you’re in that one good mood, you run up to him and jump and he catches you, stumbling the first few times it happens but soon used to the sudden loss of balance.

- Cedric plays Quidditch, and he’s good, real good. But the sports that you do, the things you train and explain to him, he is just as interested in. When you play football, kicking at him a ball with your feet, one that was just a ball without any trace of magic, he’s confused first, but soon finds fun in the muggle game. As well as in other muggle things you show him. Ice cream being one of his favourites. He learns to make it himself, though with magic, and whenever you feel down he’ll have it ready to devour because he knows how much you love it. He tries lemonade, but stays rather with butterbeer and pumpkin juice. There must be limits somewhere.

andddd I ship you with...

again. this. theres so many other options. i- it was so hard to pick i swear its like a lot of goddamn people would work?? so i had to look into it in detail and decide who’d be BEST (which i did happily once again) spoiler alert: not that easy for you???

Thranduil!!

(DO YOU SEE THAT GIF OMG?!?!?!?!? THAT IS LITERALLY SO CUTE I USUALLY NEVER PICK GIFS WITH SUBTITLES THATS LIKE AN UNSPOKEN RULE TO ME BUT- THIS. IS. TOO. FUCKING. ADORABLE!!! LOOK AT MY SWEET KING <333)

dont be surprised hun! and let me tell you that i had both bard and thorin in my last round of picking so. just saying. they’re all kings. wonder what that means~

- Thranduil may share few of your traits at first sight, few of your likes and few of your hobbies, but the differences between the two of you are not just what makes the relationship exciting, but very fulfilling too. Not only does one bloom where the other lacks strength, there’s a beauty that comes with learning about differences, accepting and loving them, and making the best of what they bring. Different does not equal clashing, it can mean harmony as much as war, battle as much as peace. It could have gone both ways with the two of you. The one it did - that worked out. More than just fine.

- You’re young, younger by a lot, and sometimes it shows. Thranduil has lost and lived and seen, grieved and loved and fought. He has much, much more experience than you, and while he is able to share it with you, tell and teach, he can learn from you just as well. The sense of adventure that he’s lost, the playfulness, perhaps the one that comes with love. You’re as sweet as you’re stubborn, as bold as you can be shy, as daring as you... no, you’re not that cautious, really. And it’s all those things that make him smile - all those differences between the two of you, all those years he’s lived that feel lost and colourless with you now in his life.

- Thranduil though, because of that exact experience, is not in need of someone to play his therapist. He’s seen how you do it for others, and he is glad that he does not have to be another burden on your shoulders, not in that way. Though you barely complain about it, he notices quickly that it strains you, that it drowns you and does not allow you to be all parts of yourself. So he makes sure that you never feel you have to act the same around him. He gladly accepts every aspect of you, does not mind when you need someone to be there for you, but pays close attention not to place his weight onto your shoulders in return. He does not hide any part of himself because of it - he has rarely needed a person to take care of him like that, but in the way he does, you are there, and you are perfect.

- Even though you have told him that you have not touched a bow in a long time, he takes his time to help you find your way back to archery, trains with you how to ride a horse better, improves your lifting and in general finds pleasure sharing more straining activities with you. He reads your every wish in your eyes, and fulfils it in a heartbeat, no matter what. He brings you instruments to study, books to read, parchment to write on, and although he certainly teases you about it now and then, with a slight smirk on his face and a swagger in his step, only to pick you up after bridal style and kiss you, he never once disrespects your likes and dislikes. He never demands to know about them either. When you want to tell him, want to read your writing out to him, want to play the flute for him or talk about the book you’ve finished, he smiles and sits back and listens, does not interrupt you once, only asking questions when you’re done, perhaps to keep you talking for longer, to listen to your voice and watch your eyes widen so passionately.

- He marvels at your eye for fashion. As a king, he’s well able to provide you with the most beautiful dresses, and he spoils you endlessly, the exact clothing you’ve told him about or shown to him or said you liked, at the foot of your bed the next day like a miracle. He presents you again and again with jewellery, with necklaces made so delicately and earrings forged so beautifully, no matter how often you argue that you cannot accept his gifts.

- Thranduil is big on physical touch for two basic reasons. One, because he simply loves it, because he wants to be close to you, because he senses and sees the way you calm down and enjoy his touch, because he watches you relax every time he as much as puts his hand on your arm. And two, because he wants to make sure that everyone knows very well who you’ve chosen to be with. Who you call yours and who he calls his. It all varies from the simple brush of fingertips, from an innocent hand placed on your thigh, to pulling you into his lap as he sits atop his throne, to randomly picking you up and throwing you onto the bed and leaning down to kiss you. There’s not one embrace the same as the other with Thranduil, not one kiss even close to the one before or after.

- When he hears you sing once, he freezes, and if anyone was seeing him, they would not have believed their eyes - their king stopped in the midst of his movement barely breathing, eyes wide and chest rising and falling irregularly. He peeks into your chambers to find you sprawled on the bed still in sleepwear, sun shining on your face and your eyes closed. He doesn’t ever get that image out of his head again, and he has to smile every time he remembers. You don’t hear him coming in, don’t notice him listening, only realise that he’s there as he sits himself onto your bed and you stop at once. But he’s entranced, enchanted almost, looking at you as though he’s never seen anyone like it before. And when he asks you to sing again, it’s the only reason you part your lips and don’t disobey. Though he notes your hesitance every time, he asks again and again, in moments when it’s just the two of you, and from time to time, your silent disagreement shrinks. He has patience, much of it, so much because he knows that he has forever left, so he does not mind.

- Forever as long as nothing happens to you. And he makes sure of that. Because there’s been a woman in his life once, and she has met her end far before it should even have been a possibility. He doesn’t keep you caged in the slightest, especially when you ask to be alone, but he always keeps you company when he can, and when he cannot, he sends guards after you. He assures you’re alright with it, but he reminds you even when you argue you could take a bow with you that it’s only to keep you safe. And against his company you rarely have objections - it’s love that’s in the air, who would disagree?

~someeeee things at the end that i find worth noting:

i picked both cedric and thranduil heavily because of the whole mom friend - thing and the empathy that you described often turns into emotional breakdowns. that’s why in the end, for hp i picked cedric and not remus, cedric and not sirius, cedric and not neville. as you could probably tell from the way i dived into it, i found it really important to match you up with someone who did not need that kind of energy from you, who instead was that person to you or completely made it unimportant.

i also went overboard with the thranduil one simply because he’s one of my favourite characters and uh. my head was full of ideas that i had to write down there was no other way

by the way, “in general finds pleasure sharing more straining activities with you” is a sentence in there somewhere and i just wanted to say that “straining” was supposed to be “physical”, but sounded SO wrong that i had to find another word

ALSO IF YOU WANT TO REQUEST AGAIN HUN DO SO I WILL LITERALLY SCREAM BECAUSE I STILL HAVE BARD AND THORIN HEADCANONS AND THEY NEED TO BE SEEN BY THE WORLD

AND I JUST FOUND OUT THRANDUIL AND I SHARE A PERSONALITY TYPE, SO I STAN THAT (intj anyone???)

#the hobbit matchups #harry potter matchups #hp matchups #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory matchup #thranduil #thranduil matchup #thranduil x reader #king thranduil #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

chap 2 of the modern xisangyao, also on AO3

Against his better judgement, Meng Yao finds himself quite charmed by the too handsome researcher who wants to meet his employer

Mister Shanzi will be unhappy when he discovers that Meng Yao has agreed to meet with a researcher without first consulting him, but he is simply too curious. It is so odd for anyone to be so interested in that obscure painter, and so desperate to see more of his work. Of course, Mister Shanzi himself holds a clear interest in Nie Huaisang, one that he has unwillingly transmitted to Meng Yao… But mister Shanzi is an odd man, and ordinary people cannot be compared to him.

For this reason, Meng Yao's first instinct upon being contacted by Lan Xichen had been suspicion. Mister Shanzi has his enemies, as Meng Yao knows well, and they try to act clever sometimes.

His second instinct, after a quick internet search, had been amusement. Surely nobody expected him to believe that this man, handsome enough to play the lead in a drama, was a mere university teacher.

A more thorough search had confirmed it though. Meng Yao knew enough about running a con to spot modified photos and fake credentials, and he had found none of that. Digging further, Lan Xichen appeared in the background of photos and was referenced here and there on relatives' social media, with no incoherence to the presentation he'd given in his email.

So Meng Yao had found himself intrigued, and offered to meet and chat.

A decision he half regrets now, because somehow, Lan Xichen is even more handsome in person. He is, in fact, the single most beautiful person that Meng Yao has seen in his life, easily outranking mister Shanzi who had reigned there supreme since the day Meng Yao met him during a con gone wrong.

"I am so glad you offered to meet me," Lan Xichen says with a warm smile. "I am really sorry that I was so insistent, but it is so rare for several of Nie Huaisang’s works to be in a single place."

“I understand,” Meng Yao replies, trying to match the warmth of that smile when he can’t help being a little dazzled by that handsome stranger. “Though at the moment, my employer is a little wary of showing any of those paintings in his possession until he has inspected them all again. It is very embarrassing that several fakes fooled him, and mister Shanzi wants to restore his reputation. He is still getting used to modern technology, and how much it has changed the art market in recent decades.”

Mostly, mister Shanzi complains a lot on the matter, and keeps saying he’s going to have to change career soon. Apparently, back in the days, it was much easier to sell a decent fake as long as you also sold enough real things. But now with age testing of the paper and analysis of the ink, it’s nearly impossible to do a good enough job.

Of course mister Shanzi could quite easily make as much money only selling legitimate art, he has the connections, the collection, and impeccable taste. So Meng Yao suspects it’s not just about money, and more about the twisted joy of deceiving others. He can't fault him for that.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Lan Xichen sighs. “I was fooled as well, so I understand the feeling. It’s so disappointing, but not unexpected. Nie Huaisang attracts forgers like no other artists.”

Meng Yao nods sympathetically. He’s heard mister Shanzi boast that well over half of Nie Huaisang’s paintings in circulation are copies he made himself, and perfectly undetectable unless one runs those ‘damn new tests’ on them.

“If I may be so bold, why the interest in that particular painter?” Meng Yao asks. “Surely you could have found someone less complicated to study.”

Rather than to answer immediately, Lan Xichen considers the question. He takes a sip of tea with more elegance than this café deserves, and Meng Yao is struck once more with the idea that this man should be acting in drama, not writing essays nobody will ever read. It’s easy to imagine Lan Xichen playing the role of a noble prince, or even a god.

“He’s just a fascinating character I suppose,” Lan Xichen says at last. “Outside of his art, we know so little about him. We don’t even know his real name.”

“What?”

Lan Xichen smiles, clearly very pleased to have gotten that reaction.

“He wasn’t born Nie Huaisang,” he explains. “That’s only his courtesy name. You see, he belonged to that… well, they called themselves a sect, though at the end of the day they were closer to nobility, with the same inheritance problems and power struggles. Still, Qinghe Nie held a number of beliefs, and one of them was that the birth name of its members had to be kept a complete secret… and Nie Huaisang is among those who succeeded at obeying that rule. So we don’t know his name, we don’t know his date of birth, and we don’t know how he died or when.”

“Is there anything that is known about him?” Meng Yao teases, more endeared and intrigued than he would care to admit.

Lan Xichen must notice, because he smiles again, as if delighted to have found someone willing to listen to his impromptu lecture.

“We know he was raised by his brother because their father died when they were young,” Lan Xichen says. “Well, half-brother. Nie Huaisang was the child of a concubine, or even of a servant. His father recognised him, but his legitimacy was called in question a few times. We know he survived a local insurrection nicknamed the Sunshot Campaign, though it’s unclear if he was old enough to have taken part in any fighting. His brother did though, with great success, but died without heirs a few years later and Nie Huaisang found himself in charge of a fief.”

He pauses there, his expression turning sadder, as if he were talking of a personal friend rather than a long dead man. Meng Yao finds it ridiculous and a little endearing.

“A few anecdotes from the lives of contemporaries tell us that he must have had a rough time at first,” Lan Xichen continues, “and he was suspected for a while of being implicated in the murder of the head of the Jin clan, but nothing ever came out of that. He’s just thirty at that point, still fairly young, and he lives on for another fifty, maybe sixty years… and we don’t know anything about what he does during that time. Nobody really talks about Qinghe Nie again until his successor rises to power and brings the clan back into the political sphere. Nie Huaisang’s life is a mystery. What little we think we know comes from the few poems he left, and whatever clues we can gather from his numerous paintings. Isn’t that fascinating?”

What’s fascinating, Meng Yao thinks, is the way Lan Xichen’s eyes light up when talking about something he’s passionate about. If it’s an act, then it’s an excellent one… but Meng Yao finds himself hoping that it’s sincere, that Lan Xichen really is just an odd man who is apparently half in love with a painter who died a millennium and a half ago.

There is no way that mister Shanzi would ever let anyone see his private collection. Even Meng Yao is barely allowed to go to his employer’s house, to avoid attracting attention to the place. Lan Xichen’s request is never going to be granted.

But it has been a long while since Meng Yao has been so intrigued by someone, not since first meeting mister Shanzi in fact. And mister Shanzi, in spite of the mutual attraction that Meng Yao knows to be there, has made it quite clear that he isn’t interested in anything but a professional relationship. Meng Yao has satisfied himself with that so far, because his life really is pretty good as it currently is, but Lan Xichen changes that. Surely there’s no harm in pretending that there’s a chance he might get to see the painting, at least until Meng Yao can decide if that too handsome man is trustworthy or not, dateworthy or not…

“It does sound interesting,” Meng Yao admits. “I’m sure mister Shanzi would…”

His phone starts vibrating, interrupting him. Meng Yao can’t help a slight frown, which turns to a deeper one when he sees the message he’s just received.

“Well, I have to go,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry. But… mister Lan, if I may be so bold, would you agree to exchanging numbers? That way we can continue talking about this more easily.”

“Yes, of course,” Lan Xichen replies. There is a trace of pink on his cheeks as he takes out his own phone, which Meng Yao finds both very fetching and rather encouraging.

He’ll have to be careful, this could be a trap, Lan Xichen might be an excellent actor, part of a team skilled enough to have fooled Meng Yao, but… but he might not be, too, and it would be a shame to miss this chance.

After having exchanged numbers and promised to be in touch soon, Meng Yao quickly heads home. He lives on the edges of the city, in a building that already looked ancient when he was a kid. Today’s a good day, because the lift is, in fact, actually working for once.

Upon getting to his floor, Meng Yao goes to knock on the door next to his. It opens nearly immediately.

“Meng Yao, you’re saving my life,” the young woman who lives there greets him. “I’m really sorry, I’ve tried everyone else, but I’ve been called in for an extra shift and I need the money so bad, I’ve had to buy her new shoes this month, and…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

His neighbour thanks him again, and rushes inside. She’s back quickly, her daughter in her arms. The child nearly throws herself at Meng Yao, and her mother runs off to work, leaving them alone.

“Well, Beastie, it’s just you and me,” Meng Yao says, walking to his door. “What are we going to do tonight?”

“Watch fighting movies! Eat candies!”

“And what will we tell mama we did?”

“Watch documentaries and eat greens and I went to bed and I was good!” The little girl roars.

Meng Yao laughs, and puts her down while he unlocks his door. Beastie runs inside to check the tv, while Meng Yao makes sure they actually have something to eat. He tries to keep his fridge full and his cabinet fuller, especially since Beastie has become a regular at his place. Her mother is a hard working girl who, like Meng Yao’s mother, got pregnant too young from a man who didn’t stick around. He used to babysit Beastie for extra cash before meeting mister Shanzi, and for some reason he never really stopped, even if he refuses to take money for it now. He just likes Beastie and her mom, and he remembers how much his own mother used to rely on neighbours too, whenever things became rough.

As Beastie and him settle down for the night, ready to watch one of those cheesy, over the top old kung-fu movies that they both love, Meng Yao gets a text from Lan Xichen, thanking him again for meeting him. After only the briefest of hesitations, Meng Yao quickly answers that he’s sorry he had to leave so fast, because he loved chatting with Lan Xichen. This prompts another text from the handsome teacher, to which Meng Yao replies as well.

His phone doesn’t stop buzzing all nigh, and Meng Yao doesn't stop smiling.

In the days and weeks that follow, Meng Yao and Lan Xichen manage to meet in person a few more times, and text nearly constantly. At their second meeting they’re still pretending that this is only about Lan Xichen’s research, but by the third one they start openly chatting about other things.

Lan Xichen is very open about his life, and everything he says fits with what Meng Yao had found during his initial investigation. He has a little brother nearly fifteen years younger than him who lives with him, he enjoys teaching and researching equally, he has a pet rabbit called Liebing he dotes on, he can’t handle spice at all, he has, in fact, been asked more than once if he was interested in a modelling or acting career but always refused because academia is his calling.

Meng Yao is more careful with the information he shares. He admits to having worked for mister Shanzi for nearly five years, but doesn’t elaborate on how they meet because that's not a story for honest people. He confesses he didn’t have any particular interest in art until taking the job, though he has tried to educate himself on the subject since then (Lan Xichen offers to go to a museum together someday, and to his own surprise, Meng Yao agrees). He doesn’t have pets, but he does have Beastie and he’s pretty sure that counts.

The way Lan Xichen’s eyes go soft over that… it does things to Meng Yao’s poor heart.

As does almost everything Lan Xichen does or says, in fact.

Meng Yao is half appalled at himself for how fast he’s falling for Lan Xichen. He tries to resist it, tries to be reasonable, but Lan Xichen just has to smile the right way, and Meng Yao’s heart flutters in his chest. He feels like a teenager with a crush.

He starts thinking like one, too.

Ever since meeting mister Shanzi, Meng Yao has been loyal to his employer. There is something about the man that demands it, and though he has never made threats of any sorts, Meng Yao can feel that mister Shanzi is not a man who takes kindly to betrayal.

And yet, it would be so easy to arrange for Lan Xichen to come to mister Shanzi’s home without his knowledge. Meng Yao is in charge of his employer’s schedule, so he knows where he is at any given time. He also has the keys to that isolated house in the middle of nowhere. It would be so easy, and Meng Yao has never been too good at resisting temptation.

At this point, he knows that if he tells Lan Xichen he won't see the paintings, the other man will be disappointed but will ask if they can keep seeing each other anyway. This isn't about finding a way to keep his attention: Meng Yao knows he has it already.

It's about Meng Yao guessing how happy Lan Xichen will be to see those paintings, and deciding surely that's worth the risk.

That’s how Meng Yao and Lan Xichen find themselves in a car one day, heading out of the city together. Meng Yao feels his skin buzzing with nerves, though every time he takes his eyes from the road to glance at Lan Xichen and finds him glowing and as excited as a child, he knows it was the right choice. It takes them a few hours to get to the house, which they spend chatting about a number of things. About midway through the trip, when they take a break, Meng Yao announces that due to a last minute problem, mister Shanzi won’t be able to meet them at the house, but welcomes them to check the paintings without him. Lan Xichen is of course disappointed and offers to try again another time, but Meng Yao convinces him it’s more convenient to go that day.

The house, hidden in a bamboo forest, takes Lan Xichen’s breath away when he discovers it, just as it did for Meng Yao the first time. It’s not particularly big or extravagant, but there’s something about it that makes Meng Yao’s heart ache every time he sees it, as if he’s known it before. It’s ridiculous, of course. He’d never really left the city before starting to work for mister Shanzi.

“It looks like home,” Lan Xichen whispers as he exits the car.

“Does your family have a place like that?”

Lan Xichen frowns, and shakes his head. “No, not at all. But it still feels like home. I can’t explain why… Ah, don’t mind me. Let’s just go inside.”

Meng Yao hides a smile and goes to open the door. In truth, he’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Mister Shanzi has no reason to be back from his trip until tomorrow, but Meng Yao won’t feel safe until they’ve left. It really is stupid to have come here at all, and even Lan Xichen’s happiness is starting to not feel worth the risk.

The house is quiet when they go in, and a little cold, making them shiver. It’s always fresh in there, which Meng Yao assumes is why mister Shanzi has taken to calling his home the Hanshi.

“It’s not a very welcoming name for a home,” Lan Xichen says as he looks around, sounding a little distracted.

“It’s not much of a home anyway. He doesn’t live here most of the time,” Meng Yao explains as they head for the kitchen. “It has his private collection, a few personal belongings, and that’s it. He prefers to stay with friends or at hotels if he can. Check the fridge and you’ll see how bad it is.”

While Meng Yao pours himself a glass of water, Lan Xichen does check the fridge, and finds it predictably empty except for some forgotten leftovers. Sometimes, Meng Yao suspects that mister Shanzi doesn’t eat at all unless he has company.

After taking a moment to rest from the long trip, Meng Yao takes Lan Xichen toward the workshop in the basement, where he knows his employer usually keeps the best parts of his collection, fake and authentic paintings carefully divided according to a system he taught to Meng Yao.

It really feels more and more like a betrayal to be doing this, but Lan Xichen is glowing, and mister Shanzi will never know.

Meng Yao starts opening the door.

His blood turns to ice when he realises that there’s light inside the room.

He thinks, for a second, to stop and run away while he can, but it’s too late already. Lan Xichen would ask questions, and he wouldn’t like the answers. It could save him from also dealing with mister Shanzi’s fury at least, but even that won’t be afforded to him. When Meng Yao peaks inside, mister Shanzi’s swivel chair is turning toward the door, with mister Shanzi sitting crossed leg in it and looking curiously at the intruders.

It is painfully obvious that mister Shanzi isn’t expecting visitors. Instead of the polished outfits he favours in public, he’s wearing a pair of novelty boxers with emoji on them, and a hoodie two sizes too big with ink stains on the sleeves. His long hair isn’t in a neat braid, but in a messy bun held in place by some cheap chopsticks. In short, mister Shanzi doesn’t look like the refined young man he endeavours to be when he has to show his face somewhere, and more like a college student who has forgotten the taste of any food except instant noodle and energy drinks.

That impression is only made worse by the headphones he’s now lowering, and the game console on his lap. They must have caught him taking a break.

“Meng Yao, why are you…” mister Shanzi starts asking, unfolding his legs so he can stand up, only to interrupt himself when his gaze falls on Lan Xichen.

His hands start shaking, badly enough that his console falls from his grip and onto the floor, its screen cracking upon impact.

“You!” mister Shanzi gasps, eyes wide with terror.

#xisangyao #xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #xisang #mostly just hinted but still #jau writes #counterfeit au #next chapter will probably be pretty short

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oikawas-toris · 3 years

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To all the lovely people I've met this year and the old friends I've had (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`):

Well first of all to anyone reading this:

2020 had been quite a journey, for most of us, or atleast hadn't been the best of the years. Well, congratulations! You made it through! I'm very proud of you!!! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Now we can only hope and wish 2021 will be rewarding for making it through this tough year.

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year! 🥳🥰♥️

«‹★♡♡♡♡♡♡♡★›»

Now then, coming to some people I hold very dear to myself:

@dazai-kinnie-blog ZAI!!!(=｀ェ´=): When will ya ever listen to me???😟 Take better care of yourself!😾 Moving on~ you were my very first friend on Tumblr and were/are so so sweet and funny😆 I know we don't talk as often now but, every conversation with you is always so fun and never fails to make me smile. Being your Kunikida kinnie is so fun now only if you listened ...I hope this delightful friendship will continue on into the next year. Love ya lots and T-A-K-E C-A-R-E!😡♥️

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@masked-buffoon AI-CHAN!!!<(￣︶￣)>: Omg you're so funnnnn!!! Our chats always ALWAYS makes me so happy! Talking to you on an almost a daily basis really did make it a lot easier to get through the last and worst months of this year. Ranting to you about anything or describing our daily events is really very relaxing and it feels like I've known you for years(≧▽≦)! Let's hope there'll be much more for us to talk/rant about in the future! Lots and lots of wuv (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@keeijiakaashi CLIOOO!!!!(✿^‿^): Though I only recently bunched up the courage to message you, we've already found so many similarities! I feel so comfortable talking to you, somehow it's just so easy! X3 <3 Hopefully our common love for the Akaashi Keiji will help grow this friendship XD

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@velvetfireworks RACHELLLL!!!✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧: can I call you that? 🥺👉👈 I've not exactly had a proper conversation with you (that's my bad, I have poor conversational skills...(٥↼_↼)), I've still had lots of fun interacting with you! I've probably sent you quite a few anon asks cause I'm shy 🥺👉👈 hopefully I've done a proper job as your osamu anon 😖 But I must say your writing gives me joy (the irony ಥ‿ಥ) anywho~ hopefully one day I'll get the courage to start a proper conversation... One day...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@orphic-osamu YUEEEE!!!♪ \(^ω^\ ): Hehehe my wonderful “also suffering with online classes” buddy; how are youuuuu??? Why am I losing touch with so many people (╥﹏╥) tis a curse!😰 (So! How's the heartbreak from assclass treating you??? XD) Ahahaha anywho~ you seem to be such a cool person, I'm rather surprised and honoured to be your friend! Ever since I started talking to you, you always made it seem like we're old friends! We should talk more often X3 <333

«‹♡♡♡♡♡♡♡›»

Now then, two very, very special people; who I've know for a great deal of my life (◕ᴗ◕✿):

@a-normal-dreamer NESSSSS(＾∇＾)ﾉ♪: From our fangirling to our random “hi”s and “hello”s it's so so fun to talk to you! I can tell you about my bad days or brag about the decent ones and you never mind X3 you make such cute and lovely poems honestly I support you all the way! Lend me some of your optimism Now then we can only hope and wish our dreams come true 😔✋ much love for you:D ♥️

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@genshin-impact-simp WIFYYYYY(≧▽≦): Though our chats are... Questionable... I'd never trade em for anything!( ꈍᴗꈍ) We can stay up till 4 in the morning on call going on about absolute nonsense or just enjoy the quiet company of one another and still not cut the call😆 You've always cheered me up when I've felt down and never have you ever failed to make me laugh with your random messages XD Even though we've not gotten to meet in the past months it feels like we've only grown to be much more closer as friends, love ya(◍•ᴗ•◍)♥️

I love every single one of you and to the people I've mentioned above: I genuinely cherish our friendship. Thank you so much for taking the the time and effort to get to know me; love yall (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

(side note: please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes)

#zai #ai-chan #clio #rachel #yue #ness #wifyyyy #love yall #(≧▽≦)#♥️♥️♥️#happy new yearrrrrrr!!!!!#im so sorry #i dont know how to add that keep reading thing yet #(;ŏ﹏ŏ)#I've probably spammed someone's dash #sorry (￣ヘ￣;)

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notquiteaghost · 4 years

Text

shoulder to shoulder

the magnus archives, jonmartin, 1k, post-168, also they’re both autistic

AO3 link in reblogs

After Jon’s explained he is not, no matter how Martin asks, killing Oliver Banks unprovoked, and Martin’s gotten his sulk out his system, and they’re almost out the other side of the Corpse Routes, Jon asks, careful to keep the compulsion out his voice, “You do know why Oliver woke me up and you didn’t, right?”

Martin raises his eyebrows. “Uh, no? You’re the one who knows things.”

Which is what Jon thought, and for a moment he’s caught up in the idea of not knowing something, of having a gap in his knowledge, of— But he shakes it off. This is about Martin’s feelings, not his.

“Well,” He starts, “He… I don’t know how—” The Eye chimes in, ‘helpfully’. He wrinkles his nose, “—I didn’t, until just now, know how true it is that people in comas can hear you, that talking to them helps, but. I wasn’t in a coma. I was… You know the dreams?”

“The ones people have after giving you a statement?”

Jon nods. “I was there. The whole time, I was…” He’s not tried to describe this to anyone before. It’s difficult. There’s an echo, of a ‘statement’ Elias gave, that he pushes away. “They were all connected, all blurred into each other, and I walked through them, over and over.” There’s another echo, of the feeling, the timelessness and the wandering and the watching, seeing— He pushes that away, too. “I didn’t know if I was— asleep, and the dreams were just particularly bad, or if I was dead, and my connection to the Eye was too strong for death to free me entirely, or if it was something else. I couldn’t remember how I got there, I couldn’t remember the Unknowing — In that place, the statements were all I knew. It…”

The Eye, sensing he doesn’t want to relive being trapped in one of its domains, tries to draw his attention to Oliver Bank’s roots, instead. The closest one, if he were to follow it, would lead to—

He rubs at his eyes with the palms of his hands, until the Eye gets the hint.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” Martin says, gently.

Jon shakes his head, takes a deep breath. “No, we do, you need to know.” He takes another breath, then says, as sincere as he can, “I couldn’t hear you, Martin. I couldn’t even remember your name. I only knew you visited me at all when you told me. I, ah, kind of assumed you hadn’t, actually—”

“What,” Martin exclaims, incredulous. “Why wouldn’t I have visited you!”

“You went out your way to avoid me, once I got back.”

“…Okay, yes, I did do that. But, uh, the first week I sort of… slept in your hospital room. Only stopped after the attack, actually, because Peter— You know.”

A moment of silence to give their hatred of Peter its due.

“Yes,” Jon says. “I do appreciate it, anyway.”

“Even though I stopped months before you woke up?”

“I’m reasonably certain you no longer visiting was a rather key step in everyone’s various plans, so yes, even though you stopped.”

Martin blinks at him. “You think you were trapped that long on purpose?”

“Oliver Banks explicitly told me Annabelle asked him to talk to me. He didn’t know it would wake me, but I’m sure she did. And would you have gone along with Peter, if I’d been around?”

“N—” Martin cuts himself off, furrows his brow. “Maybe? But I would have talked to you about it.”

Jon nods. “Things might have still played out the same, but keeping me out the picture until the Lonely had a decent hold on you made Peter’s plan far more of a sure thing.”

Unsurprisingly, Martin doesn’t look pleased about that. “Mmmm…”

“Anyway, that isn’t my point,” Jon says, and reaches out to take Martin’s hand and lace their fingers together. “I heard Oliver because he made a statement — And a statement about his own moment of… rebirth, no less. He told me I had a choice — I could renounce the eye, and die, or I could embrace it, and… continue.”

Martin huffs, but fondly. “I knew it wasn’t true love’s kiss that woke you, Jon.”

“No,” Jon agrees, “because you didn’t kiss me.”

That makes Martin grin, even as he says, “That is— so cheesy, oh my God!”

“You wanted me to murder the man who robbed you of your chance to try,” Jon points out, trying to suppress his own grin. “You write me poems—”

“That you do not know about!”

“—The substance of which I am entirely clueless of, but still. Poems.”

Martin’s smile is one of the best things Jon has ever seen. “Aren’t you meant to be reassuring me?”

Right, yes.

“I will not leave you for Oliver Banks, Martin,” Jon says, his tone shifting back to serious, “Because he woke me up unintentionally on the whim of someone else, and you sat at my bedside and read me Terry Prachett’s Feet of Clay, because it’s your favourite Discworld book and you think it’s a crime I’ve never read them.”

Martin’s grip on Jon’s hand tightens, but his tone stays closer to teasing. “Thought you didn’t hear me.”

“The… The Eye is very forthcoming, about you,” Jon admits.

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I try not to think about it. The time for musing on if the entities themselves can feel emotion in any way we would recognise has passed, I think.”

“Yeah.” They’re quiet for a beat, still walking between the dark, twisting things Jon is not thinking about the path of. “Still haven’t read any Discworld, then?”

“No, Martin, I didn’t make time during my final transformation to read fiction novels.”

“Well,” Martin says, as always far better at sidestepping tension before it has a chance to bloom, “I have read them a lot.”

“And now you’re going to explain the plot of the entire series, in great detail?”

“And you’re going to listen attentively, because that’s what love is.”

Jon could spend every moment until all moments cease telling Martin he loves him, and he still wouldn’t have said it enough. God, he loves him.

“I do love to hear you infodump, yes,” he says, and God, Martin’s smile.

“Good,” Martin says, and lifts Jon’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles, before his gaze drifts to the middle distance as he organizes his thoughts. “Okay, so, Feet of Clay is one of the Watch books, but it’s not the first Watch book, and also the Watch books aren’t the first books, though you shouldn’t really…”

#the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma spoilers #yelling at clouds #fic tag #infodumping is a love language thank you

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wcamino-confessions · 4 years

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if one more person uses the argument “maybe you shouldn’t write for validation” then I’m blowing up ur Minecraft house. we don’t write for validation, but after awhile of receiving literally no support whatsoever and looking in the latest feed to find damn near every art piece with at least one comment and 20+ likes (vs our 10+, IF that) then yeah, we start looking for validation because we’re working just as hard as any artist on that amino and reaping none of the rewards. no one is saying that you have to read every story on WA. no one is saying you have to comment on every writing piece.

just stop making fucking excuses as to why you can’t press a like button, it means a lot more to us than you realize, and until you’ve been a writer for 4+ years on WA and have received little to no attention for SEVERAL beautifully crafted stories or poems, then you can’t tell us likes aren’t validating. you haven’t stepped into our shoes and you can’t even BEGIN to fathom how discouraging it is to spend hours, weeks, MONTHS on a piece only to get 10 measly likes and maybe, just maybe, a fleeting comment from someone that didn’t actually read the post, but made an effort to show their appreciation anyways.

now, if you go look on my account, most of my stories have 40+ likes, so I understand how it may seem odd for a writer who’s fareing decently to be so outraged by this, but how the fuck do you think I built my platform? my stories started out long as hell and I was lucky to get 13 likes on a good day. comments were nonexistent. it took me YEARS to get to where I am. I’ve been featured twice and won wotm and there are still times when I upload a story, receive little to no acknowledgement on it, and end up deleting the post and stuffing the piece into my pile of drafts. now imagine how much worse it is for those small authors who HAVEN’T been featured and who HAVEN’T won wotm. this isn’t meant to brag, it’s putting it into perspective. if a well versed author such as myself is still struggling to keep a steady flow of users who are interested in my content, just TRY to imagine how much more difficult it is for those on smaller accounts.

it isn’t hard to press a heart button. y’all just don’t like the idea of appreciating the effort that goes into writing. and y’know? I’m willing to bet that a lot of times, writing takes more effort than art. I’m not saying it’s better than art by any means, but y’all would rather relish two seconds of glancing at a sketch than actually taking the time to digest and enjoy a full STORY with plot and meaning and emotion. now, I understand some people can’t sit through a full story for various reasons, but at this point, you get brownie points for even trying. and the rest of you? just fucking like our posts. that’s all we’re asking at this point. we aren’t urging for you to read our creations anymore because we know that’s too unreasonable of us. and it’s pretty damn sad that we can’t even ask the bare minimum of you people without receiving backlash and hate, when we should be the ones getting our pitchforks instead.

anyways, I’m sorry if I made any mistakes or didn’t make sense or anything, I wrote this pretty quickly & I’m really not in the mood to proof read lmao

oh, and one more thing. stop trying to excuse the lack of appreciation we get by saying “maybe your plot/writing isn’t as good as you think it is.” or “maybe it’s just not interesting to readers.” if I were to go up to an artists who was discouraged about not getting any likes and say “maybe your art isn’t as good as you think it is.” or “maybe people just don’t think it’s pretty enough.” I would have everyone and their grandma up my ass. if you wouldn’t say it to/about an artist, don’t you fucking DARE say it to a writer. we’re creators too and we don’t just want the same respect as artists, we DESERVE IT.

#submission

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #348

“nothing will be free / nothing will be done / black out the sun”

Do you have any famous relatives? My third or so cousin is the author of Not Without My Daughter, but she's not like a smash hit or anything that most people know. I really do recommend the book, though. It's a long read, but a beautiful, true story. Do you care about celebrity gossip? Nah. Have you ever failed a science course in high school? No; I was very good at science. What’s your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Does your house have a basement? No. No house I've ever lived in has had one. Do you like Hot Topic? Well duh. Do you think imagination is valuable? VERY! Just imagine how many incredible things wouldn't exist without it. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? Unspeakably happy, and I felt like I was building a future with someone. I felt like I had purpose, which I should mention to anyone reading is a mindset to NEVER adopt. No one gives you purpose; you're born with it. How much weight can you lift at once? Ha, not a lot. When you have your own house someday, what color Christmas tree do you want and how will you decorate it? I want a black one with faux snow on the branches, then maybe red ornaments. Kinda look like blood dripping off. Sounds metal. Name three YouTube channels you’ve been loving lately. Lately, John Wolfe, The Dark Den, and Aim To Head Mix. Have you ever bought a designer purse? No. Do you wear jewelry often? No. What color was your senior prom dress? Black. Are you colorblind? No. Name the people you know who are colorblind. Jason's older brother is colorblind to two colors, but idr which. Would you ever consider a career in writing? I'd love to. What was your first favorite color? Red. What do you think about horror movies? I love them. If you love them, what’s your favorite? I really enjoy The Crazies and both The Blair Witch Project movies. Oh, and of course Silent Hill. Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? I don't have the money to get anyone presents... and while I sometimes get ideas about something I could make someone, then it wouldn't be fair to the rest of my family if I don't make them something, too. What’s your favorite word and why? I really like the sound of "serendipity," as well as its meaning. It's just a pretty, nice word. Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what’s the coolest thing you made? Not really... I think the coolest thing I made was when I put the clay heart I made in Art into a shadowbox, and a poem I wrote was in the background. It was a gift for Jason. I remember working really hard on the whole process and being really happy with it. I don't want to know what he's done with it since. What’s one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn’t deserve to? I don't know. What’s something you are currently saving money for to buy? Everyone knows about Venus' terrarium by now... Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? No. Ever done drugs? No. Tell me one of your worst habits. Catastrophizing. I take a tiny seed of something potentially bad, and in seconds it's a damn redwood tree. And I do mean "in seconds." What’s a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? I don't know, I don't have any particularly unique ones, I think. If you game, what type of headset do you use? I just use earbuds. Do you think you would be a good therapist? You know, it's funny, I've actually pictured myself as one a few times, given my level of understanding and empathy for people, as well as how deeply I want to see others succeed and spread the word that recovery from things like depression is very possible. I've never truly entertained the thought, though, given I'm quite sure I legally couldn't be given my suicidal past and mental illnesses. There is also NO way I could listen to so many people's suffering and manage to stay healthy myself, so, no therapist position for me, thanks. Have you ever been to a Chinatown? No. Do you prefer chunky or creamy peanut butter? Creamy, 100%. Do you stop to pick up heads-up pennies? No. Do your pets have collars? Describe them: Roman has an adorable navy one with a bowtie. Do you have any friends that speak any languages you don’t understand? Old friends, sure. What is something you want to begin learning? I want to improve my ability to perform what in therapy is called "opposite action," where you do the opposite of what your depression (or other conditions) make you want to do. It always helps me feel good, like when I draw even when I don't initially feel like it, but it's rough to really force yourself to do it. What is a food you find comforting when you are sad? Ice cream is my comfort food. What is a quote you find comfort in? There are really a lot, but none come to mind immediately, gah. What is one Tumblr blog you really appreciate? I actually haven't been on my main Tumblr in months, but oh my god there is a Markiplier blog called "lady-raziel" and she is FUCKING HYSTERICAL. The meme quality is A+. What is a comfort movie/show for you? When I actually liked watching movies, I enjoyed watching Silent Hill when I was down. That whole franchise just makes me so happy. What is a recent creative project that you are proud of? That I'm PROUD of, idk. I'm not that happy with the last drawing I made, and I haven't done any serious writing lately that I find noteworthy. What is a video game that you find comforting? Shadow of the Colossus is probably #1. I find it so relaxing while equally epic as fuck. The soundtrack is to die for, and after playing it a billion times, it's pretty easy for me to kinda breeze through and just enjoy myself. Do you know how to bake bread? If so, what is something you’ve baked recently? No. Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest? THE MOUNTAINS!!! Particularly in the woods IN the mountains! Are you closer to your mother’s or father’s side of the family? Mom's. I don't even remember anyone from Dad's. Have you ever been in a “perfect relationship”? I thought so. Have you ever lost a fingernail or toenail? No. Were you a Disney or Nickelodeon kid? I preferred Disney. Have you ever been inside a jail/prison? No, and I don't plan on it. Have you ever dated a guy with a beard, mustache, or goatee? Jason had a goatee usually. He'd go clean-shaven sometimes. Did you ever name your stuffed animals? I named every single one I got as a kid. Now I don't, really, unless they're really special. What’s the name of the person who cuts your hair? I'd rather not share, given her name is very unique. Do you like cheeseburgers? Yes, they're one of my favorite foods. Do you have a Flickr? Yes, but I don't use it anymore. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Do you drink milk? Yeah, I love milk. Where was your FB display pic taken? My room. Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yeah; white rice. My dumb ass didn't realize it had JUST come off the stove. My tongue hurt literally for weeks. Have you ever gotten your legs waxed? No. Do you own any CLOTHES from Victoria’s Secret? Er, are undergarments not clothes? But I know what you mean. No. What are your grandfathers’ names? William and... I can't remember Dad's dad's name. Have you ever seen a snake in real life? Well yeah. Are you against seances? I don't know if I believe in them being effective, but either way, they seem like a bad idea. Even risking luring a negative energy/spirit to you is something I'd stay away from. Do you own any superhero shirts? No, just Harley Quinn ones, some with the Joker on them, too. I need to toss 'em though because I am like, violently against romanticizing their abusive relationship. I used to just like them as a story character couple, but I got to a place where it just seemed... wrong to "glorify" it by wearing merch and stuff. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica, durrrr. Who is the biggest jerk you’ve ever met? Can you believe that would be my former best friend? Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never had an animal in my path. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you like kissing in public? If you're my serious s/o, I could care less, so long as it's a simple peck. I'm not making out in front of people. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I don't know. Do you want to be in a relationship this year? I don't know. I'm lonely and love feels amazing, but I need to get my life on track before I can be a good partner to someone and not just dead weight. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you? Huh, funny, he's the one that walked away. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Uhhh that would depend on how serious we are, where we are, and just what mood I'm in. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? ugh What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone? also ugh What’s your dirtiest secret? TMI AHEAD. Probably receiving oral while bare-ass naked on the chaise in the living room while we were home alone. Or having sex in my sister’s bed. Oops. Would you ever get lyrics tattooed on yourself? Yeah. I already do, anyway, and I plan on getting another. Can you photoshop images well? I'm decent at it. Where did you last drive to? Mom and I went to go get our Covid vaccines today. What’s the first verse of the last song you listened to? "I don't know what we're supposed to be, but I know we lost it along the way to something better, something so much more than pleasure that we seek, so blind inside to fill these holes left by these lies that we tell to ourselves as we manufacture our own hell." What do you hear right now? The aforementioned song: "BLACKOUT" by 3TEETH. What was the last thing you laughed about? This is so fucking immature lmao but when we were driving earlier, we passed a gas station that had a sign that was advertising Coke, but due to space limitations, it abbreviated to "2 liter Cok" and I cackled like a child. Mom laughed harder than I did. Do you know any gay people personally? Ye. What was the last thing that startled you? I think it was a car hoonking at somebody the other day. What was the last thing to make you even remotely sad? Today's been a kind of rough PTSD day thanks to Facebook. My old high school friend had her beautiful daughter, a childhood friend just got married the other day, another friend is due to have her baby in just a couple weeks... It's just weird but even more painful to know it was the life I once fantasized about with a guy that just dropped me and made a break for it. I hate admitting that there's this deep, deep bitterness in me about it, like he took my life away from me, even though that's of course very unfair to say. I don't want to talk about this anymore, so moving on with my day.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''blackout'' by 3teeth

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kentonwrites · 3 years

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Hiemal and “Anamnesis” Update

Welcome back to another update!

“Anamnesis”

I finished writing and developmentally-editing this story, and it actually ended up being over 7k words. I sent it to @breefrankelwriting for critiquing and we agreed that after another few line-edits and a couple other fixes it’ll be in a good place! I have no idea what to do with it after that though!

The writing process went surprisingly smoothly, even when editing. I think since it was such a short piece it was easy to build motivation to work on, since my creativity burns out after a good 20 seconds. This was the first piece that I’d actually finished for a long time, besides random poems that I’ve been submitting to magazines and getting rejections for the past couple months!

Hiemal

This is my newest project. I know, I know, I should just SHUT UP and actually work on my other projects for once in my life and obviously this shiny new idea is just a distraction and as soon as it starts to get difficult I’ll switch to something else BUT! Buckle up because this project has history.

Hiemal all started, actually, when I was in TENTH GRADE. During English class I’d literally just write stories on my iPad and it was great. One of the stories was about a woman who flew to northern Russia and lived off the boreal land for a few years before being mauled by a bear at the very end. It was the first piece of mine where I really started to put imagery at the forefront of my stylistic devices. I actually finished it! The story was titled “Fish Ribs.”

Then, over the next few months I wanted desperately to turn it into a novel. I made up a few characters, played with setting and worldbuilding, and had numerous stops-and-starts. It just wasn’t happening.

Finally in 2018 I had a full outline and began to work on it. I called in Pine Marrow. I got to around 40k words (which was about 3/4 through the book, it was severely underwritten) before shelving it. I don’t know why, but reading it back now it wasn’t...terrible, but it wasn’t good.

A year later I was having a crisis because my writing productivity was at an all-time low and I was disenchanted with the craft altogether. So I spontaneously bought a screenwriting software and started translating it into a screenplay even through I had no prior experience! It actually went quite well, and I LOVED working on it, but as soon as I got 3/4 through (when things actually start getting really exciting no less?) I quit AGAIN.

So, what makes me think I can actually pull it off this time?

1) I’ve restructured the story to occur in much smaller, bite-sized, vignette-esque chapters. This helps monumentally with maintaining motivation and really dedicating time to each individual piece of the story, instead of getting overwrought with like an 8k word mess of a chapter.

2) I’m giving myself more creative freedom to experiment with the characters, voice, and form.

3) I have a general outline on where things are heading, but I wanted to sort of discovery write this draft. I’ve been writing scenes and concepts that were never originally in the plan, and they’re turning out to be some of my favorites! Giving the writing a sense of mystery to me is helping combat the fatigue of translating prose from outline bullet-points.

What is it about?

Hiemal takes place from 1996-2002, and follows a girl named Victoria and her friends as they try to escape the remote outpost/cult they were raised in since birth. The only problem is, they’re located in the boreal regions of northern Canada with thousands of miles of subzero forests separating them from other civilization.

TITLE: The word “Hiemal” means “relating to the cold or winter.” It’s also the name of the village/cult that Torr lives in.

CWs: Theocracy and authoritarian rule, violence, domestic abuse, gore, suicidal thoughts

CHARACTERS:

1) To save time, I’m only going to talk about Torr, the protagonist. She’s 17-18 for the majority of the story. The story is narrated retrospectively from her POV. On the outside she’s reticent and distant, but her narrative is full of chaotic, unhinged thoughts. At the beginning of the book, when she’s 12, she has an experience that changes how Hiemal is governed, and has a lot of misplaced guilt over it. A lot of her arc is about discovering her religious identity.

PROCESS: I’ve written about 8k words so far, and it’s going decently smoothly although I am encountering some problems along the way. Namely Torr’s voice is not as voice-y as I would like, and the characters aren’t “springing to life” the way they did in previous drafts, partially because Torr is less demented and more, I don’t know, soft-spoken now. I feel like the writing style and intrigue has increased, but balancing the worldbuilding with the character relationships is proving to be extremely difficult at this stage. I’m hoping once I get everything introduced it’ll go a lot better.

Here are some quotes!

From the very first paragraph:

The chapel was a relic when I turned seventeen. Its black planks groaned and squelched in the nightwind, its steeple javelined the moon. Frosted shingles sled down the roof, the emerald windows snow-bleached and somber and the doors clattering against the sawhorses. Eugene had pushed at every Founders Meeting for it to be salvaged as lumber, but it was more than enough for it to be empty. I made it empty.

Here’s one of the last lines I wrote:

I wanted to rip the duvet off my legs and sprint through the gate, tear through the night, wind gouging at my eyes, and visit someplace hot, get blood in my hands and brain. I wanted to snatch Van by her flimsy wrist bones and Nik by his and fade down a foyer of pine, show Van the world beyond words and convince Nik he didn’t want to settle here. But we’d just run, and run, and our muscles would scream--we’d collapse to a stop, and the wind would scrape in and out of our lungs, no progress made, a mote in the waste.

That’s all! I’ll do another update when I get to around 20k words.

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kindest-way-to-say · 3 years

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okay so. i’m just gonna rant. about some pain i’ve been experiencing for a while. like, we’re getting into it

if anyone would like to put in their two cents, feel free. im kinda just yelling about my problems into a void, but im definitely not gonna stop people who might know what this is from giving me advice.

idk. my brains shutting down a bit.

TDLR: my left arm has been in constant pain for three days. it’s probably nerves or something. i’m very addled rn. i hate the world i want to sleep for a millennia. i also have had similar, smaller pain issues over a course of 4 months. i hate it here. i would very much like this to not be a thing, please.

so this story starts the mid may. my last month of school. i’m suffering through just to end this bullshit. but i notice that p much every time i have to do some slightly more than normal walking, some random body part of mine will just be in this sort of dull pain.

and i just kinda go. huh. okay. ow. and brush it off. this continues. it’s pretty minor, (like barely a 1/10 on a scale) but enough for me to be mildly annoyed by it on occasion.

go to two weeks before my school lets out for summer.

i get appendicitis and have surgery for it. i’m fine. that situation went better than expected, i was just not the most comfortable.

appendicitis pain traditionally presents in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen. right next to a shit ton of nerves. and the pain i’m going through starts to affect my leg. can’t really walk without alarms going on.

it gets better. i’m not like. comfortable, but i’m just taking ibuprofen a few times a day and managing decently. 3.5/10 pain level average.

but then, as i start going out and living life as a teenager in the summer (hanging out with one person semi-regularly, and doing weird family lunches), i start to notice that most times i leave the house, i’ll come back home with some pretty decent pain in assorted parts of my body.

like my back will hurt, which i just blame on my shit posture. but then it’ll be a weird muscle connected to my ankle or some shit when i am very well known for hating any and all sports except for hockey. which i don’t play.

so i’m not doing things to pull muscles, but i’m feeling twinges of pain kind of a lot. which sucks.

but i brush it off, now consciously keeping an eye on it and taking ibuprofen when needed.

pain levels steadily rise over time, but it’s still at about a 4/10 for the most part. there’s the occasional spike to a 6, but that’s not frequent.

keep going on to mid-july. every time i leave the house, i’m feeling dull ache/twinges in multiple places and my knees feel really fucking off a lot of the time. almost like if your knees were crooked or something?? idk.

but it’s still 5.5 on the worst day. so i just kinda hesitantly mention this to my mom. who’s used to me complaining anyway, but i make it clear that it’s been going on for a while, and it feels like somethings wrong.

and she says “oh yeah we can think about seeing a doctor.”

and i just. okay! cool. fun. rad. sick. vague pain. that’s my favorite activity. i love everything about this.

but i just grit my teeth and bear it. still doing the ibuprofen thing when my ignore it and distract yourself strategy doesn’t work.

now, end of july. trucking along. i’m at least in mind discomfort pretty much all the time. sucks. hate it. i’m concerned.

go to the 31. i pull a crazy all-nighter because i have chemical imbalances in my brain and shit just happens. i stay up for like 44 hours. wild. i sit at my desk for a while, drawing and i notice “wow my left shoulder doesn’t feel that great. huh. i have been sitting here for a while.”

so i go do something else but it doesn’t feel fantastic. almost like a buzzing in parts of my back and my upper arm. on my left arm. i am right handed. don’t know what that’s about.

go to sleep sunday night, i wake up to it just being worse. (also i have some weird circulation problems because of genetics. just random shit. no pain whatsoever. just funky.)

like wtf that’s a 4 right as i’m waking up. what the actual fuck. don’t like that.

but i was raised catholic so none of us talk to each other. so i just joke about my body organizing a shitty coup d’état to a friend and chalk it up to a fucked up muscle. but it’s like kind of moving?? a bit?? weird as fuck. don’t like it. still dull pain, but certainly something that pops up into my conscious mind like 10 times a day.

i didn’t do anything would result in a pulled muscle (trust me. my school is really intense about theatre and show choir. hard core choreography in everything that i practice 3 times a week during school+whatever play/musical) so i’m really just making excuses to soothe my brain and i know it. full denial.

i took ibuprofen the first and second day. can still tell it’s happening, but it sucks less.

yesterday i play a shit ton of guitar, and i can feel my upper arm cramping up and shit (which. oW. 5.7/10. WHAT THE HELL.) even though there is no strain on my left arm except for pressing my fingertips into some strings. no shoulder shit going on.

so i try to stretch out. no help.

and then the adhd medication instead of sleeping medication debacle happens and i don’t go to bed even though i actively tried to multiple times. i write a poem instead.

hurts mildly the whole time. it starts kind of limiting the functions of my arm. which. what the actual fuck. stiff, a bit seized up in especially bad pain moments.

i get focused on writing a poem and shit i only 20 minutes to get ready to leave for my appointment.

i forgot to take any ibuprofen, and it was already reaching 5.85 levels from sitting in my room.

in the car and in the orthodontist office, my left arm is completely fucking useless to me. half of my brain at all times is focused on like “oW OW OW OW OW” because it’s reached a point where i can’t really ignore it. it’s just there now. moving it isn’t great, it sitting in place isn’t fun either.

i’m at 6.5 levels. from the round trip of like 20-ish minutes, it’s raised that much. a lot of internal dialogue about it.

on the way to the orthodontist, i’m talking to my mom about it. she, sounding kind of annoyed, asks “what, do you want to see a doctor?”. i say “honestly? yes. it’s been 3 days nonstop. steady rise. there’s something genuinely wrong. i’m concerned about it.”

it feels like someone is poking around inside my arm with electricity or some shit. whole arm. shifting localizations and slight fluctuation in pain level. rapid escalation even just today.

i explain what it feels like in less wordy terms. and she says “that’s sounds like it could be nerve-related.”

it’s been three days. i’m exhausted. this has already taken a pretty significant mental toll, let alone discomfort level.

i have a high pain tolerance. i only started actively complaining about appendicitis pain the night before it exploded. that shit festers longer than overnight. i had been i pain for half the week before i said shit. and i just kinda sucked it up until i felt like i couldn’t walk without needing hella support.

but it’s really fucking getting to me. shit ton of weird tension, buzzing. just. constant painful buzz moving around.

i express this. “it’s a non-stop pain bad enough to be something i am fully aware of at any given second. if i stare off, im probably thinking about my arm.” and she kinda dismisses it.

it’s been like an hour, and i’ve gone up to 6.8 levels multiple times. based on patterns, it’s not just gonna stop any time soon, and i’m really good at working around weird problems like this.

like i said. pain every time i go out.

i’m good at hiding when i’m not 100%, but this is beyond me. it’s like someone’s just stabbing me with tacs over and over again. on my entire left arm and on the rare occasion, part of my leg.

i’m so genuinely uncomfortable, and i would this to not be a thing anymore.

#long post #uh. help?#oW OW OW #ITS LIKE SOMEONE IS PLAYINH FUCKING OPERSTION ON ME #sorry this is so gigantic #rip my arm ig??#i’m already disabled my body doesn’t need to betray me like this #bitch tried to kill me once already and failed so it’s back and trying again and iT SO MUCH FUCKINB WORSE THAN THE FIRST TIME #HHHHH

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