#i mean i still struggle with inspiration time and motivation but its not about numbers or wondering if anyone cares like. 95% of the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

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just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh · 3 years

Text

Grounded

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and forced to reveal secrets of the pack

Pairing: Derek X Reader

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing

Word count: 2605

Original piece please don’t copy

The school bell rang for the final time that day, a collective sigh of gratitude echoed in the room, the teenagers grateful to be released from the maths teacher’s class. Gathering your books, you stacked them in a neat pile before exiting the room, offering a small smile to your defeated teacher. It wasn’t her fault maths sucked and no one enjoyed it, you did feel bad for her on some level but also who the hell would willingly dedicate their life to teaching numbers?

Entering the hallway, you made your way through the sea of teenagers, everyone desperate to go home for the weekend. Reaching your locker, you grabbed the couple books you needed, shoving them into your backpack, thinking about the homework you had due on Monday you sighed. The door to your locker slammed shut before you could close it.

“Hey, you ready?” Stiles smiled.

“I told you I can walk home.” You rolled your eyes, walking away from the boy. Surprised by your quick movement, Stiles jogged to catch up to you, throwing an arm lazily around your shoulders.

“I know you can walk home but why would you when you have me?”

Exiting the main doors of the high school, you welcomed the fresh warm air, the smell of angsty teens left behind you. Reaching the end of the pavement, you saw the jeep parked a few cars away.

“Stiles I want to walk.” You turned to face the boy.

“Y/n, you heard what Derek said okay? All these recent attacks? The break ins and thefts? He doesn’t want you alone.” Stiles tried to reason with you. Knowing the recent spike in criminal activity was less than likely to involve the supernatural, you felt safe walking the 20-minute trip home. In fact, you enjoyed the peace it brought you. Half of the walk was through the woods, a quiet haven from the busy high school, and being autumn, you relished in the yellow and orange leaves that swept through the small woodlands.

“Stiles. It’s 20 minutes. I’ll text you when I get home okay?” Stiles sighed.

“You know Derek is going to kill me if I let you, you know, that right? You like the idea of alive Stiles because I do! And I am not letting you be the reason I don’t make it to my 20’s okay?”

“Derek doesn’t have the balls to kill you.” You turned on the heel of your foot, headed towards the woods, leaving a defeated Stiles in your wake.

“I’m telling Derek you said he has no balls!” He called after you. You let out a small laugh, grabbing your headphones from your backpack, and your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your playlist, deciding today was the perfect day for (Your current favourite song).

Entering the woods, you felt a rush of calm wash over you, the stressful week was pushed to the back of your mind, your thoughts centred on the surrounding woods. You stepped over exposed roots and around large bushes, glancing up at the sky you watched as the wind swept through the foliage, the ageing leaves dancing in the light breeze. The sun peaked through the cracks, determined to reach the forest floor, providing the perfect amount of light for your stroll. The floor of the woods had been coated in fallen leaves, leaving a blanket of red and orange below your feet. Taking a moment to stop and appreciate the tranquillity the forest provided you, you felt your phone buzz in you pocket.

Home yet? I’m this close to sending out a search party!

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head you began typing a response.

You need to…

Before you could finish you felt a knock to your head, your vision distorted, the soft sound of music playing through your headphones which were now next to you on the forest floor, was the only thing you could hear before everything went black.

***

Another blow straight to your stomach knocked the wind out of you. Coughing and spluttering you attempted to regain your breath, each inspiration hurting more than the last.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.” You mumbled.

Leaning to the side of the chair you spat a mixture of saliva and blood to the ground, you couldn’t tell where the source of the blood was coming from, maybe your lip, or maybe the inside of your mouth. Too many lacerations to your face meant it all blended into one.

You raised your eyes to meet your rival, struggling to see through the blood you saw one man wiping his fists on an old rag, your blood coating his knuckles. He faced a woman to your left, who sat with one bent knee up on a bench. Her back leaning against the wall adjacent to you, a smug grin on her face.

You rotated your wrists which were bound behind you, the thick rope digging into your skin. Your ankles were bound too, tied to the legs of the wooden chair you sat on.

“You’re going to tell us what we want sweetie, its just a matter of how beat up that pretty face is going to be before you tell us.” The woman commented, as she played with her fingernails, pushing the cuticles back. If she was trying to look disinterested, she was doing a great job. But you were ready for this. You trained for this. You knew what was coming, and if it meant keeping your friends, the pack, safe, then you would gladly take whatever they threw at you.

The mans fist connected with your jaw once more, snapping you out of your daze. The room began to spin around you, and your vision blurred. Trying to recenter yourself you pulled at your wrists, the pain of the rope grinding into your skin giving you something to focus on.

“Alright careful there, big guy, we need her conscious if we’re going to get that information.” The woman stood from her seat, striding slowly over to you, before bending at the waist in front of you. She reached out to grab your face, but as soon as her fingers made contact with your skin you pulled away. A stern look, on your face made the woman let out a small laugh.

“You’re a tough one aren’t you.” She turned her head, almost admiring your battered body before her. “Too bad that doesn’t mean shit around here.” Grabbing your hair, she yanked your head back, exposing your neck to the room. Moving to stand behind you she held out her other hand, gesturing towards the man in front of you. Without a word exchanged, the man grabbed a knife from a nearby table, its blade glinting in the moonlight the small window above you allowed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are dealing with do you?” The woman whispered in your ear, her grip on your hair only tightening as she neared the knife to your throat. You felt the cold edge, lightly cross your neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough for you to avoid swallowing.

Taking a deep breath in you closed your eyes. Grounding yourself was apart of your training, something that was drilled into you from the beginning. Breathing in again, you picked up on the different smells the room produced, sweat from the man in front of you, poorly masked by his cheap cologne. The sweet smell of the woman’s hair from behind, her locks dangling beside your face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood being the most potent. You changed your focus to your heartbeat. Feeling it pounding against your chest begging to be released you pictured your heart slowing, its contractions reducing with every breath you took. Steadying your breathing was next. Cautious of the blade still connected to your neck you breathed in through your nose, holding in for a few seconds before releasing softly through your mouth. Repeating those steps, you were able to regain some stability. You were still in the same crappy scenario but at least now you were calmer. A panicking person is an interrogators wet dream. A calm person, their nightmare.

Sensing your self-control increase, the woman let go of your hair, moving the knife from your neck to the table beside the man. Standing before you once more, she knelt in front of you, keeping one knee up for balance, she waited for your eyes to open once more. Regaining the control, you almost lost, you felt strong enough to open your eyes once more. Staring at you the woman barely moved, she was searching your eyes for something, her expression a mixture of shock and impressed.

“You’re not afraid.” Her words barely above a whisper. Your only response was a return glare. A small smile creeping on to the face of your kidnapper. “They trained you well.”

Standing, she turned to the man behind her, whispering something in his ear before turning back to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. The man dropped the rag he was still holding and left the room, the sound of the door locking behind him.

“Let’s cut the bullshit honey. You have information I need. And I know I’m not going to break you, not by torturing you anyways. So, let’s try something else, shall we?” The woman began to pace back and forth in front of you, the small room only allowing her a few steps before being forced to turn around again. Your eyes followed her, left and right, before she stopped in front of you once more, still facing forward.

Taking in a sharp breath, she spoke. “How’s your sister doing?” She turned to face you. Refusing to let her know she was finally making some progress with you, you remained staring at her. Resuming her pacing she continued speaking.

“She’s what 5 now? Gosh so young. But you know what they say right? They grow up so fast.” Your eyes tracked the woman, more intently than before. This woman knew your family. Something that was always off limits when the pack was involved. Your attempts at shielding them from the supernatural had been successful, keeping that part of your life private even from Derek. And here this woman stood, threatening them. Threating to take away your motivation to make the world safer. Unfazed by your lack of reaction the woman carried on.

“Soon enough she’ll be going to high school, making friends, maybe even realising who her sister really is.” She stopped before you once more, bending at the waist she placed her hands on the arms of the chair you were bound to. “You didn’t think you could protect them, forever did you?” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. No amount of calm breathing could ground you now. “Aw babe.” Her hand raised to your cheek, ready to wipe away the falling tear. You only pulled away from her once more, hating the way her skin on yours felt. “Don’t tell me I hit a nerve, did I? Sucks doesn’t it. Well, there is one way of ensuring your little family stay naïve to the world around them.” She stood tall once more, her voice now deeper, more sinister than before. “Tell me what I want to know.”

You had no choice, right? She threatened your family, your sister. You protected them from so long, only for you to be the reason they are in danger. Looking down at your lap, tears hit your thighs unable to control them you simply let them fall. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the woman before you, a smirk present on her face which made it so much harder to say what you were about to. But the images of your sister raced through your mind. The way her hair shone in the autumn sun, the way her smile reached her eyes when she was really, truly happy, the way she greeted you after school every day by running down the front path directly into your arms. That was the highlight of your day, finishing school and-

Wait

You never responded to Stiles.

You never texted him back, and the kidnappers were kind enough to bring your phone into the room with you – hoping to get some information.

Your eyes moved to the door behind the woman, a loud crash followed by a heavy grunt sounded from behind the entranceway. The woman whipped her head around, only to be met by silence. She slowly approached the doorway.

“Adrian…?”

Silence

The woman turned back to you, unsure of herself. You only had a small smirk as a response. Before she could question you, the door busted open, barely remaining on its hinges, a rush of dust filled the room. Watching ahead as the dust clouds engulfed the woman, you heard a deafening roar followed by a petrified scream. Small thuds followed, as the dust reached your eyes you began coughing, the sudden pain in your ribs swiftly returning.

Two hands were placed on your shoulders, looking up you were met by two green eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” A worried Derek scanned your face, concern riddled him as he saw the multiple cuts and bruising before him. You could only nod, the dust denying you the ability to speak.

Moving behind you, he effortlessly cut the ties that bound your hands, then your legs. Using the arms of the chair to stable yourself, you attempted to stand, wincing when the pain became too much. Derek moved to your side, wrapping your arm over his shoulder. Carefully placing his arm around you, resting his hand on your hip he accepted most of your weight, attempting to make standing and walking easier. As you took a few steps forward, the dust cleared from your eyes and you were able to regain focus. Looking forward you saw the woman who threatened you, her back against the same wall the door was, her skin now covered in blood, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Scott stood before her, looking down at the defeated woman, his eyes still red and his claws still present.

Clearing your throat, you stopped walking, causing Derek to pause and look over to you. You peered down at the woman, no longer in a position of power, she looked smaller, more gaunt than before. Her eyes showed she was petrified, providing some comfort to you after what she did.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” a whisper of a smirk present on your lips.

Proceeding to step forward through the doorway you were met by a panting Stiles, his arms stretched out in front of him, you couldn’t tell him to stop before his body connected with yours. You inhaled sharply, grimacing as pain rang throughout your body.

Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles by the shoulder, pulling him away from you, a small growl forming in his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry of course you’re hurt shit sorry.” The boy stumbled over his words, his eyes finally taking in the battered sight before him. He moved to the side of you not occupied by Derek, his help was welcomed by you, suddenly feeling lightheaded from standing.

The three of you began walking forward towards the exit of the building.

“Is now a good time to tell Derek, you think he has no balls?” Stiles piped up earning a death glare from Derek. “No? Okay we can come back to that.” You used whatever energy you had left to shake your head.

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nootgi · 3 years

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Love? - Kaeya

A/N:// I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC WHILST I WORK ON MY OTHER REQS, I MAY HAVE CRIED A LIL WRITING THIS! I apologise for this story too T^T

Word count: 3k

“What’s love?” Kaeya paused at the question, his paperwork left forgotten on the table.

“Isn’t that a big question~!” He teases Annette, ruffling her hair. She puffs out her reddened cheeks and tries to move away from his hand, pressing Kaeya for an answer.

“Have you ever heard the phrase curiosity killed the cat? Though I suppose a baby like you wouldn’t know at such a young age.” He laughs, picking up the glass of grape juice to sip from. No alcohol around the children is what you strictly ordered when Kaeya decided to take Annette to work. For something like take your daughter to work day.

“I’m 6! I’m not a baby and mother says it’s good to be curious.” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at her words. That sounds very like you. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree he muses as he looks into Annie’s eyes, they hold the same wild innocence yours do. She has her mother’s eyes.

“Very well then, let me tell you a story.”

It was early April and the Windblume festival was coming to a close. The celebrations, despite coming to an ending, still kept the streets lively. Most of the people of Mondstadt were recovering from a hangover from last night’s heavy drinking but still had smiles on their faces. Kaeya was going for a stroll, to distract himself from the thoughts building in the back of his mind. He looked down at the plaza from where he stood, watching the clean up. It always felt bittersweet, taking down the flower garlands that hung from the buildings or rolling up the green carpets that lined the steps. He didn’t know how but he came to love Mondstadt so much... Well actually he did know. They accepted him for who he is, with all of his flaws and lies, Mondstadt and its people held a part of him he didn’t know he had. His family. And in that moment as windwheel aester petals blew from above, Mondstadt gave him something he’ll always be thankful for.

“Here’s a flower for our cavalry captain!” You cheered, holding a cecilia flower in front of Kaeya’s face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You snuck up on him, attacking him at his weakest moment with a smile. Even though Windblume was coming to a close, you kept the festive cheer. You were handing out a variety of flowers to everyone in Mondstadt to spread the joy and love to everyone.

“Such beauty handing me a flower, what did I do to deserve this.” He smirks at your momentary panic, ducking down slightly to be face to face. He takes the flower and smells it, hiding his smile in it’s petals. You scold him for saying such cheesy things to someone he just met. It was funny how even though it was your first meeting, your personalities fit perfectly as one.

“Don’t you ever feel embarrassed by saying those things?” You adjust the flower that was tucked behind your ear.

“The only embarrassment I feel is that I have nothing in return for this lovely gift.” His hand comes up to fix the flower, tucking it perfectly behind your ear. The white petals glowing against your skin. That one encounter set the tradition of Kaeya and you giving presents back and forth every year during Windblume. Even as the years went on, the present stayed as a simple cecilia flower as an ode to that first meeting.

“He didn’t believe in love at first sight. You could say it was only something that existed in fairy tales for plot convenience. It takes a lot more than first sight to fall in love but he swore that moment could’ve been it.” He looks back at the child who now climbed into his lap, she placed the red blanket over the two of them to make sure they were both comfortable. Her eyes were fixed on Kaeya, watching with eager eyes to hear more. He holds her close so she doesn’t fall off his lap as he continues his story.

“Love can be the best feeling in the whole world but it can also be the worst.”

Kaeya stood in front of the crowd of kids with an odd look on his face. It wasn’t one you were used to seeing on his face, it was the look of utter confusion. You walked over to find out what was going on but decided to listen to the conversation first.

“Sister Barbara said you’d be entertaining us! But this is boring!!” One of the kids said, the others around him nodding and some going far as to cheer. Kaeya didn’t know what to do. He was bad with kids, he couldn’t be mean otherwise Jean would have to deal with the complaints and he most definitely couldn’t use his usual lines. As he tried to think of something to do the kids started to chant ‘let’s play!’ and that’s when you finally decided to enter.

“Hey there Captain! Need some help?” It was like an angel coming down from the heavens, he swore there was even a halo around your head. The kids, already knowing you, cheered at your entrance. Kaeya watched as you calmed the kids down, getting them to eat lunch and successfully buying time for the two of you to plan something to entertain them.

“How’d you manage to get into this then Kaeya?” You approach him after giving the last child some apple juice.

“Jean would normally do this but since it’s been a while since she spent time with her sister I decided to volunteer.” That stunned you for a moment, you heard stories from Amber about how Kaeya always seemed to avoid work and formed an unfair opinion of him in your head. You felt guilty because of those thoughts, you saw how he struggled with those kids but still put himself out there for the sake of Jean and Barbara. “But let’s not tell Jean that.”

“Would it be so bad for Jean to know the truth?” You ask plainly, ignoring the way Kaeya said the last part of his sentence.

“Well-” You didn’t even let him finish

“I think the problem you have Kaeya is that you’re too closed off, children are so open and trusting that the only way to get along with them is to do the same.”

“That can’t be done overnight let alone in an hour (Y/N).” It was the first time Kaeya said your name and it sent shivers down your spine. The very thought of opening up felt dangerous to Kaeya, the last time he opened up the last of his family left him in the dust.

“You’re right in that area but we can take baby steps!” You weren’t deterred by the tall walls he built around himself. You used the word ‘we’. We can take baby steps. That’s all that lingered in Kaeya’s mind, it was like an informal promise from you to him that you’ll be beside him for that journey.

“Then where do we start, captain cheerful?” You roll your eyes at the nickname but gesture towards the children.

“We start with them.” That day was one of the best days Kaeya had since his childhood. He never thought hide and seek could be so thrilling or that duck duck goose could be so intense! The kids were more than happy to embrace Kaeya and his awkward aura, teaching him of super secret tactics that no-one would ever know. He found himself learning more about the children and about himself. At times when he feels his guard going back up, he glances over at you and sees you playing with some of the quieter children, bringing them out of their shells. Your smile blended in with the childish joy of the kids around the two of you. Sometimes your eyes caught each other's and you both just shyly laughed it off as kids pulled the two of you away in different directions. It was hard to catch a moment to talk to each other until you took the kids to watch the sunset by Cider lake. Most of the kids were settled on the grass, sitting crossed leg and talking about all the fun they had that day. One of the boys shyly tugged Kaeya’s leg, asking to be carried since his mother always did it for him. He looked towards you for help but you just gave two thumbs up, encouraging him. He carefully picked up the boy, letting him rest on his hip and one arm securing his waist. The boy rested his head on Kaeya's shoulder, using the fur on his shoulder as a pillow to slowly doze off. Kaeya stood still. He didn’t expect the day to go like this let alone carry a sleeping child too. You patted Kaeya’s shoulder to reassure him and the rest of the sunset was spent with whispered words exchanged between the two of you. After such a successful day, the two of you decided to take the kids once every week off of Jean’s hands.

“Love didn’t make him become a better person magically but instead motivated him to strive for that. She inspired him to try and be a better version of himself. It wasn’t like she was perfect either, they both worked on themselves whilst inspiring each other. That’s the good side of love Annie, but there is a bad side too…” Annette saw Kaeya’s eyes darken a little and she moved her small hands to rest on top of his larger ones to comfort him.

All Kaeya saw was red. It started off as a light hearted exchange between some treasure hunters that the two of you came across during an adventure. They used the typical story of their cart breaking down and needing help so they could lure adventurers into a trap before robbing them blind. Kaeya already knowing this tried to shut them down before anyone else could fall victim to them. He was going to only use his words since he didn’t want you getting hurt in the crossfire. He knew you could defend yourself but it was too risky with the amount of numbers they had on them, no doubt there were more of them hidden. However his words only seemed to provoke the treasure hunters more, they struck to attack him but the crossbow went astray and hit you in the shoulder instead. It could’ve been a simple flesh wound or a small cut but even the tiniest amount of blood from you sent him off. The area started dropping in temperature, the floor stable floor below the men started to turn into ice and there was a still moment as a singular snowflake drifted down onto the floor. Once it hit the ground, there was a flash and its delicate crystals were stained with blood. Kaeya stood over the last one with his sword raised to crash down on him till you came from nowhere to hold back his arm.

“Kaeya! Stop this!!” You begged him, looking at his side profile and trying to avoid looking at the bodies that surrounded the two of you. He couldn’t hear you, all he could hear was your scream when you got hit and had tunnel vision.

“Please stop, you’re scaring me.” You sobbed softly, finally catching his eye. The darkness that clouded his eyes faltered as he put down his sword and embraced you. The man that was on the floor scrambled up to his feet, apologising profusely before running off with a terrified shriek. Kaeya could care less about what he did, he could only think about you now. He felt your shoulders shake from the fear or maybe from the sobs that escaped your body. His heart felt as though it dropped to his stomach, he hurt you. He scared you. When his hand came up to pat your head, you flinched away. It still sticks with him to this day, your tear stained face and eyes filled with fear because of what he was. He hated himself after that day, he felt as though he was back to square one.

“It can lead you to dangerous things. You could disregard everything and everyone around you and ironically hurt the one you were trying to protect. But you can control all these negatives by simply talking about it with whoever you love. Never run away from it.”

“Did the lady leave him after that?” Annette asked with tears in her eyes, not wanting to see such a tragic ending for the love story.

“No she didn’t. When he ran away, she chased after him. She was really stubborn and cornered the poor man!”

After the incident, Kaeya was put on a suspension from his job. The people of Mondstadt didn’t know any better, thinking it was him taking a small break from his work. Kaeya doesn’t know why Jean kept it a secret but decided to roll with it. He took his suspension as a time to withdraw from you, it was scary how quickly he became so attached to you. It was dangerous for the two of you so he decided himself to end whatever went on between the two of you. When you woke up the next day, you found out about Kaeya’s suspension and tried looking for him to talk things out. It was an impossible task since Kaeya seemed to become air whenever he saw you approaching or when you ask people about his location they all gave different answers. It annoys you to no end. He saves your life and then decides to remove himself from your life. Like hell you’d allow that. So you hatch a plan with Rosaria.

It was a Thursday night and normally Kaeya would be holed up at work but with his suspension he decided to go to the angel’s share. Rosaria said she would be there in the back corner on the second floor, she told him that she would drink with him since it was boring to drink alone. He arrives earlier than Rosaria and decides to start drinking before she gets there, ordering a bottle of dandelion wine and slowly sipping on it. Minutes turn into hours and before he realises it’s closing time and he isn’t nearly as drunk as he would like to be. Rosaria was a no show and the tavern was completely empty. That’s when Kaeya realised he was caught in a trap, he had nowhere to run as you slowly approached him. You had a really angry look on your face. It was one look, he hates to admit, that scared him. You say nothing as you seat yourself across from Kaeya.

“F-fancy seeing you here (Y/N).” He offers with a meek smile.

“It really is an odd coincidence huh? It feels like it’s been a while since we talked.” You smile, but it isn’t reaching your eyes. That night you both talked about your feelings and cried with each other. Kaeya tells you things he never imagined telling you, about his self-hatred and how he feels as though he doesn’t belong. How the guilt eats him up everyday. You in return comfort him through it all, you might not have much to say back to him but that’s okay because just having someone listen to him was more than enough. Especially if it was you.

He was walking away from your doorstep after dropping you off home when he was stopped by you.

“No matter what happens Kaeya, don’t make my decisions for me! I’m a grownup and I told you all those years ago, WE will take these baby steps together.” You say seriously, holding his gaze with your fiery eyes. As he looked up at you, he felt his heartbeat pick up and a terrible realisation came down on him. Oh.

“I promise.” He was in love.

“When you love someone Annette, it isn’t all black and white. You have to work to keep your relationship going, when something bad happens you talk about it, celebrate the small wins alongside the big ones. At moments you can feel lost in love, know you aren’t alone in this world. And once you find that special person, never let them go.” He pats the girl’s head as she brings her hand up to rub at her sleepy eyes.

“Would there ever be a moment you would let go of love?” She asked innocently. As Kaeya opened his mouth to respond, the sound of the door opening interrupted the two of them.

The two look towards who came in and suddenly all the sleepiness in Annette’s body seems to leave her.

“Mommy!” She shouted excitedly, jumping into your open arms. You lift her up and spin her around as she giggles happily. Kaeya watched the exchange with fond eyes, standing up to walk towards them.

“So what did you do today?” You ask, it seems like an innocent question but Kaeya knows it's you checking to see if the two of you got up to any devious acts.

“I learnt about love!” Annette says proudly, she holds her hands against her hips and proudly puffs her chest out. Kaeya laughs softly, as you turn to him with a curious gaze.

“Oh really? Who taught you?” Diluc walks in behind you, laughing softly at Annette. Annette notices his arrival, reaching out for him to take her off of you. She laughs when Diluc tickles her sides as he adjusts his grip on her.

“Uncle Kaeya!” Her red hair bounces as she turns to point to Kaeya who was standing a few steps away from the family.

She had her mother’s eyes and her father’s hair.

‘There can be a moment Annie. Sometimes there can be a moment when you realise another person can make them happier than you ever could but I hope from the bottom of my heart that, you, my dearest niece will never experience that.’

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc #Kaeya #f!reader #kaeya alberich #fluff #angst #nootieml #genshinml

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b-lessings · 3 years

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10 lessons I learned from the first 10 days of Ramadan 🌙

(personal, subjective, and in no particular order)

1) It's a constant work and it doesn't get easier. This is the first thing that came into my mind. As a matter of fact, the daily routine of this month is no joke, whichever deeds you try to perform and incorporate in your deen from the 5 obligatory prayers, to the sunnah, to the nawafil, to the azkar, to the Qur'an recitation, to the daily x number of istighfar you promised yourself you'd achieve, it is a lot of work, especially if you have a family to take care of, a job or school to go to, or more critically, if your mental health is not at its best condition. Every day (or night), you get out of bed and you're back at square one, you have all this list of tasks to do, and it gets a lot some times, and you do feel exhausted (but if you are among the lucky ones, then it is the good kind of exhausted), and it's not like your prayers are gonna perform themselves, you have to ger up, you have to act. That's why you need to constantly remind yourself why you are doing this in the first place. What is the point of fasting and waking up in the middle of the night to pray and spending hours throughout the day just remembering Allah swt and reading his book, etc. You have to remind yourself of the ultimate purpose of this month, that we are sacrificing the worldly pleasures for the sake of Allah swt, to gain Taqwa, to be in a state of constante awareness and consciousness of Allah's presence, to get closer to Allah swt the most gracious the most merciful, and that if we don't actually put on some work and effort, we won't get to where we want to go, we won't achieve any of that. It is good to keep things in perspective. Be aware of what you are doing, where you are now, where do you wanna go and what it takes to get you there. If it's constant work and effort, then be it.

2) You can't achieve anything by yourself, your intentions are not enough, you need Allah's support. In fact, for the first couple of days I was so confused, I had to ask my sisters " If the devils are all locked away, why do I feel like I can't focus? " And I was constantly asking myself, if I have already prepared, downloaded the calendars and planners, put up a big board on my bedroom wall, etc., Why do I feel like my Iman is getting low?, AstaghfiruAllah. Aren't we supposed to feel on cloud nine? In a state of pure bliss? And then I came across a khutbah where the Sheikh may Allah swt bless him answered my question. He explained that even though Shaytan is locked away, he has already programmed us, for 11 months (he even made a joke that Shaytan deserves a month off because he has been working too hard for the rest of the year). Anyways, what I realized is even your will and your plans and your excitement about Ramadan and your promises to do so and so deeds is not enough if you don't ask Allah swt for support, for sabr, for guidance, for help, for strength to be able to fulfill those ibadat and carry out the plans you have made for this month. You need to constantly ask Allah swt because who else is our refuge? Who else is our source of strength and patience ? Who else will keep us steadfast on the straight path? And who else is gonna help us against the traps of Shaytan? No matter how willing or excited or determined you are to perform your prayers, finish reading the Qur'an, etc, you still need Allah swt to bless your deeds, every step of the way. Without Him, nothing can be achieved. So in your sujood, ask Him that He give you enough strength to finish that prayer in full Khushoo' and concentration, and after that prayer, ask him for sabr and strength to manage to perform the next one and the one after. Tell Him that you seek refuge in Him from the traps of Shaytan, from laziness and lethargy, from the disoriented heart and the distracted mind. Show Him that you are vulnerable and that even though you are trying to do this for Him, you actually can't do it without Him. SubhanAllah.

3) Forgive yourself when you fall short.

{يُرِيدُ اللَّهُ بِكُمُ الْيُسْرَ وَلَا يُرِيدُ بِكُمُ الْعُسْرَ}

{God intends for you ease and does not want hardship for you}

Allah swt literally said this in Surat Al Baqara (The Cow) when he prescribed Fasting upon us and introduced us to the holy month of Ramadan. Soz read it again. As simple as that, I am not gonna develop this idea further.

4) No matter how much you prepared before Ramadan came, you aren't prepared enough. Well, are you familiar with the saying that Ramadan is like a marathon and you have to prepare for it way before? That's actually true. And guess what? No matter how much you think you are prepared, there are still gonna be some moments when you'd still feel out of breath, where you wish you'd have prepared more. May Allah swt make us reach the end of this month smoothly and seamlessly. May Allah swt bless us and accept our deeds from beginning to end.

5) Our deeds don't get accepted because they're good enough, they get accepted because Allah is merciful. I heard this in a youtube khutba just last night and it resonated with me. Put this in your mind, learn it by heart, print it out on your forehead if necessary! No matter how perfect you think your deeds are, they won't get accepted because you're an amazing slave of Allah swt and you win at worship and ibadah. Don't get too confident, beware of arrogance, control your ego. Stay humble and know your place. The only reason why your deeds would be accepted is because Allah swt will have mercy on you, not because you are so good that your deeds would qualify you for forgiveness and acceptance. So pray that Allah swt accepts our deeds and pray that he encompasses us with His mercy.

6) Don't compare to others, don't get intimidated by others, we are not on the same journey. Walk your own rocky path. I can't stress this enough. I know a lot of brothers and sisters Mashaa'Allah, Allahuma barik, are overachievers, or they might just be out of our league. And sometimes, through social media, we see what they share (in their attempt to motivate us and share some tips and good deeds, spread the knowledge, May Allah swt bless them, accept their deeds and reward them), so we get intimidated. Sometimes it feels like what we are doing is not good enough because it doesn't even compare to what X or Y are doing. And we feel a bit scared that we are not good enough of slaves for Allah swt or that Allah swt wouldn't be pleased with us like He swt would be pleased with them, and we can even feel unworthy and get discouraged ( beware it's a shaytan trap). It is simple though, your path to Allah swt is very personal. What a brother or a sister does only get to inspire you not discourage you or intimidate you. When you see someone sharing something good or beneficial, make duaa for them and make duaa for yourself then leave it at that. Competition is taking over every aspect of our worldly life, we shouldn't let it mess with this sacred part as well. And remember, we are not all on the same journey to Allah swt. It is okay if you can't recite the Qur'an in such a beautiful way or if you can't pray 10 rakaas of Taraweeh, it is okay if you can't read in Arabic or if you don't learn any hadith by heart. Allah swt is patient enough and considerate enough. Scratch that, He swt is the most patient, the most considerate, the most gracious, the most generous, and He appreciates your effort. What matters for Him is your sincerity and the purity of your intentions.

7) The less food you take, the more energy you will have. FACTS. I mean, imagine the struggle of having to pray Ishaa and Taraweeh on a full stomach where every time you get down for sujood you feel like your soup is coming up :/ Allahu almusta'aan. This month is not about feasting. It is literally about giving up pleasures (food being one of them) to focus on Allah. So, Focus on what's important and set your priorities straight.

8) Don't overdue it. Beware of the ghost of Burnout. So yeah, like I already said earlier, it is a lot of work and it requires preparation and constant effort. The aim is to be at our best shape of health and Iman on the last 10 nights because they are the most sacred, the most important, the most blessed. You might wanna consider starting small with your deeds and building up slowly. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Do good deeds properly, sincerely and moderately and know that your deeds will not make you enter Paradise, and that the most beloved deed to Allah is the most regular and constant even if it were little." [Al Bukhari]

9) Personalize your ibadat / plans. In other words, do what's best for you and what's beneficial for you. Define your weaknesses and the areas in which you want to improve. Don't just do this or that deed because everyone else is doing them. Do not follow blindly. What is good for you might not be the thing recommended or done by the others. And what you need on your faith journey is not what X or Y needs. You will be judged on your own deeds, your own journey. Have a purpose and a reason for what you are doing and why you are doing that. Also, the more you feel like your plan or your routine is personal, the more you can relate to it and connect with it, the more sincere you will be, the more excited and enthousiastic you will be, and the easier it will be for you to perform your ibadat in Shaa Allah.

10) Too much information can be poisonous. If ,like me, you got into a habit of watching lectures and videos of speakers this Ramadan, then breaking news: it might get confusing. I don't want you to feel lost and confused. Allahima barik the resources are countless and limitless. But also, you have to beware whom you listen to. There are different sects, different perspectives, different rulings on certain things. So, try not take things blindly. Take them with a pinch of salt and always try to do a background check. And eventually, when it gets too much, always choose what's best for your heart, because we are created with an innate sense of "right" , our fitrah is sane, Alhamdulillah. So, try to be critical. Allah swt even recommends that.

I hope this post can be beneficial. Tell me which part you related to the most, and if you have any extra tips, please share. May Allah swt accept our deeds and grant us forgiveness, amen. 🤍

#ramadan thoughts #tips #ramadan experience #islam #رمضان١٤٤٢ #شهر رمضان #رمضانيات #sabr #muslims on tumblr #muslims #Allah

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maddiviner · 4 years

Text

Could studyblogging jumpstart your personal grimoire?

A witch should be a lifelong learner. To practice effective magic, you must grow in new directions at a constant pace. A witch should approach magic with a sense of devotion to their own growth.

I’ve practiced magic and divination for two decades now. The most solid advice I can give? Start journaling. Start keeping a notebook. Start studying.

Witches who keep a notebook record their research and ideas about the Craft. This helps them build a wide repository of knowledge, right there when they need it.

The format and content of my notebooks changed a lot over the years. But they all helped me become the witch I am today. I devoted the bulk of these notebooks to my journey in magic, techniques to try, and lessons learned.

There are few people who haven’t studied. In school, we pore over geometry and classic literature in hot pursuit of elusive high marks. We spent time learning about our interests. Whether that’s witchcraft, philosophy, or astronomy, notes are helpful.

Everyone learns in a different fashion. Still, studying and learning about the world remains with us from our first breath, to the last. My Craft took leaps forward when this dawned on me. I’d always enjoyed school. I realized that I could apply the same study techniques to witchcraft and the occult.

What’s studyblogging?!

As a regular user of both Tumblr and Instagram, I soon came across the studyblogging trend.

Caitlyn Tiffany of The Verge describes the studyblogging phenomenon as “a beautiful, stressful wonderland.” An apt description! But what is a studyblog?

Studyblogging hashtags like #studyblr and #studygram are popular (on Tumblr and Instagram, respectively).

For someone just coming across the phenomenon, though? It can be difficult to penetrate this strange world. Expect calligraphic chaos, a plethora of highlighters, and fine-tuned aesthetics.

Studyblogging focuses on the quest for knowledge. In practice, studyblogs share tips and handwritten notes on various subjects. Studybloggers encourage each other to be the best learners they can be.

The photos of notes, assignments, and other tasks make up the bulk of the phenomenon. Studyblogs often feature photos of elaborate calligraphy and heavy illustration in note form.

Expect to see self-made diagrams of mitochondria. Essay outlines on postcolonial theory with nigh-perfect bubble lettering. Vast, illustrated mind-maps of Shakespearean themes. It's a big community, and there's room for a lot. Room for witches? I think so!

Studyblogging for Witches

In witchcraft, our grimoires function much like a non-magical student's study notes. The content, and some of the form, may differ, but the principles are the same.

The quest for an aesthetically-pleasing grimoire stymies many a beginner (and not-so-beginner) witch. The wise remind us that our grimoires needn’t be complex. Functionality is more important than aesthetics in most cases.

That said, there is something worthwhile about keeping a grimoire that suits you. A grimoire can speak to your soul, both by way of aesthetic appeal and your own abilities. For some of us, this might mean a lavishly-illustrated tome. Others might find minimalist styles more resonating. It varies.

The truth is that yes, your grimoire needn’t look a certain way or be perfect. Still, a level of aesthetic appeal can help with information retention. It can also boost your magical productivity. Humans respond in an intuitive fashion to that which they consider beautiful.

Aesthetics can help to put you into a liminal state. Liminality can be a powerful tool in self-improvement. This, in turn, is useful not only for normal studying, but also for the Craft itself.

If you see art as part of your life path, you might find that approaching your grimoire as a work of art helpful. Part of this means realizing that it won’t be perfect, but also always striving to learn and grow.

Studyblogging, as a community, showcases a lot of excellent notebook and journal-keeping techniques. Studybloggers often provide tutorials and guides to effective learning methods.

This is, of course, all while celebrating the joy of learning itself. Traditional studying methods can apply to magical topics. I have found that the techniques of the studyblogger can help with keeping a useful grimoire.

Ask your intuition if studyblogging is right for you!

Will studyblogging help you? For some students, lurking or keeping a studyblog inspires and motivates them. It also increases accountability. By posting their goals and progress, studybloggers have an impetus to progress.

In a way, it’s a bit like livestreaming a video game - it makes the experience more challenging, and also more exciting. The difference, of course, is that, in this case, your game is learning!

And the notes? Many find the calligraphy, fancy scripts, and illustration soothing. It can be a way of making otherwise impenetrable subjects more captivating.

Without a doubt, aesthetic presentation improves information retention for some people. Humans have a positive response to beautiful imagery.

Some folks find the gorgeous landscape of studygram and studyblr overwhelming and anxiety-inducing. Gorgeous calligraphy notes, after all, aren't easy for most people.

For some, posting about your studies on a blog might only increase worry. We're all different, and studyblog techniques are hardly universal in form.

You should use your intuition to decide whether to dip into this community. Ask yourself whether an audience will help your quest for deeper knowledge.

Will you feel empowered, or nervous about it? If you struggle with comparing yourself to others, you might find studyblogging discouraging.

I myself am somewhat of a perfectionist. For me, though, the artistic aspects of note taking and information illustration soothe me. Studyblogging suits me, but will it help you?

You should tailor your learning experience to your own strengths. If that means studyblogging won’t help you, be honest with yourself and don’t chase the anxiety of it all. Find another method of learning.

Browse some existing studyblogs - I recommend EmmaStudies and StudyQuill. Ask yourself how it makes you feel. Do the images and writing seems inspirational?

Would you enjoy sharing your work with the world? Studyblogging might become an ally on your magical path!

Taking the Plunge

So, how do you start a studyblog? How do you get involved in the community?

The most popular studyblogging platforms are Instagram and Tumblr. Instagram lends itself to posting tons of pictures and very short-form posts. Tumblr favors longer prose.

When I started studyblogging, I created both a studyblr and a studygram. I recommend starting a new account on the site of your preference for studyblogging.

Follow some existing studybloggers as a way of introducing yourself to the community! Also, follow the hashtags #studyblr and #studygram, to start.

What to study?

Studyblogging features students focused on all kinds of topics. I’ve been studyblogging for over a year. In case you’re wondering, it's rare for someone to complain about my witchy take on studyblogging.

You’ll find the studyblogging community very welcoming in most cases. But what will you study? I always recommend witches focus on only one or two things they’d most like to learn at a time.

Studyblogging lends itself well to in-depth topical research. This can mean learning the signs and language of astrology or the basics of gemstone magic.

Topics like shadow work or personal Tarot readings might be a bit too personal to blog about. Those might be better suited to normal, private journaling rather than a blog. My own studyblogging tends to focus on my writing preparation, astrology, and Tarot.

Though I’ve been reading for over twenty years, there is always something new to learn about Tarot. Astrology, like Tarot, is a lifelong discipline. Though I’ve only recently made my first steps into it, there is much to learn. My writing, especially the book I’m working on, has its own notebook.

Possible topics include, but are in no way limited to:

Crystals and gemstones

Astrology

Spellcraft

Mythology and legends

Magical history

Energy work techniques

Seasonal and Lunar cycles

Herbology

Tarot, Lenormand, or oracle deck divination!

It is important to choose topics that interest you in a personal way. At the same time, try not to get distracted. Witchcraft includes many paths of study. Try not to jump from topic to topic - finish what you start!

Supplies

If you’re in school, you may already have a lot of the tools necessary for studying. If not, you can get them for an affordable price in most cases.

Paper matters! You'll want a notebook or loose leaf binder paper. For hardbound notebooks, you can’t go wrong with a Leuchtturm 1917. That popular notebook boasts dot grid paper, includes page numbers and a place for an index.

Seeking something more aesthetic? Check out the Paperblanks series from Peter Pauper Press. You might also like the notebooks you can order from Citrus Bookbindery. For me, a binder (I use A5 size) works best, because I can add and remove pages as necessary.

You can find some great guides out there about organizing grimoires. Much of that advice applies here. Your notebooks will soon fill the role of a grimoire. They will contain your notes, research, and more.

It is usually best to have one notebook (or binder) for each subject you’re studying. As you move forward, you’ll have a collection of grimoire notebooks on different topics.

You’ll also need pens or pencils. Really, you only need one. If you feel like getting fancy, you can get multicolored fineliners. I prefer Sakura Micron pens. They use waterproof micropigments that don't bleed when you highlight over your writing.

Highlighters are fun! These add color to your notes and help emphasize the important things. If you want nice highlighters, I recommend Mildliners. Any highlighters will do, though - choose colors that appeal to you. I recommend several different colors, because that allows you to color-code your notes.

Plan!

Plan out, at least in a rough fashion, how you’d like to organize your notes. This can be rather freeform, or complex, depending on your preference.

When I began my astrology journey, I knew what sections I would include in my stars grimoire. I also created a rough map of the path I’d take in my research.

I began with the simple Zodiac signs. I then moved forward through the planets, houses, aspects and transits. My organization, loose though it was, benefited from my use of a binder which allowed me to add and remove pages.

No matter the notebook, it is important to have, somewhere, a rough idea of where you’re going.

You will also find it important to set attainable, realistic, and measurable goals. For me, this was things like memorizing the astrological house system. I set the goal of reading my astrology textbooks completely and summarizing them. This kind of goal leads to personal accountability.

I also created a set of astrological flashcards for my Tarot-related work. It can be motivational to post your goals on your studyblog in some form. Then, you can provide your followers with regular updates on your progress.

Start posting!

Once you feel ready, go ahead and introduce yourself to the studyblogging community! An introductory post, explaining who you are, your goals, and methods, will help others get to know you.

I recommend tagging your posts with studyblogging hashtags (mentioned above). Also include some witchcraft-related tags! This will help you connect with other witches who might be helpful on your journey.

Don’t be shy when it comes to posting photographs (taken with a phone or other camera) of your notes! You might not feel that your notes are as neat or pretty as other bloggers. Regardless, they’re unique and might resonate with others!

If you’re taking notes about a very personal topic, like shadow work, you might want to forgo the pictures. Some bloggers obfuscate or blur potentially sensitive parts of their notes. You’ll likely find nothing but encouragement for sharing your research topics, though!

Some studybloggers will also photograph their study space. Some of us even use photos of fun things like their breakfast or pets to illustrate their updates. If pictures don’t suit you, post regular bits about your life and your progress towards your goals.

Get to know other bloggers! This is important, whether they’re witches or from the studyblogging community. Both can be helpful!

Watch or read some of the tutorials you’ll find in the studyblogging community. These focus on things like calligraphy, organization, and memory techniques.

While your notes needn’t have fancy headings, calligraphy can be fun to learn. I don’t currently use calligraphy in my notes, but am learning it on the side, so to speak.

I find it relaxing, and you might enjoy it too. If not, don't feel bad - not everyone uses fancy handwriting, and that's okay!

Moving Forward

If, after a few weeks, you find yourself really vibing with studyblogging, stick with it! Most witches would agree that there’s no real wrong way to be a witch. To me, though, there are wrong (and right) ways for you yourself to learn and grow in your craft.

You need to find what works for you, what adheres to your soul and keeps you connected. If studyblogging ends up helping you, and I hope it will, keep going!

After a while you might find yourself ready to move onto another topic. We all end up “graduating” forward onto other subjects. You’ll quickly find that your grimoires will be an invaluable record.

They will contain not just your gathered information, but also your intuition, insight, and more. Cherish your notebooks - they will come to reflect your essence!

#magic #witchcraft #witchblr #witch #studyblr #occult #pagan #journal #book of shadows #grimoire #eliza.txt #eliza reads

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lambden · 3 years

Text

Here’s some belated Geraskier fic that I finally get to post, as last week’s flash fic challenge has wrapped up! This was originally published anonymously; kudos to those of you who guessed that I was the author. Head to the collection to see the picture prompt that inspired this, as well as view the other works. I've been having a great time participating in fandom events like this; I promise there's more on the way!!! (Read on AO3)

Up To Date

prompt: "You were so hot that when you asked if I was the blind date you were looking for, I lied and said yes. But then your actual date comes up to introduce themselves and I'm so embarrassed."

G, 2.3K words, modern AU, Geralt/Jaskier

It shouldn’t be this difficult to find inspiration. He never used to struggle like this in high school, finding his muse in everyone and everything. Even his mundane trip on the city bus to and from school would give Jaskier hundreds of ideas, for poems too personal to publish or lyrics too deep for his band to use. Back then he had thought he lacked discipline and experience, so the clear choice had been to take his interest in poetry one step further and go to university.

The problem, as he’s now discovering halfway through his second year, is that he maybe hates university. He loves it, of course; he loves the praise from his professors and peers, he loves learning about the history of literature and art. He even loves the academic rivalries that wax and wane every term, and the competitions that ignite a mean streak in him he didn’t know he had.

But his assignments are of worse quality than anything he’s ever written before, and try as he might, they aren’t getting any better. Putting words on the page just to meet a count is impossible for a poet, not when the space and thoughts and images are all supposed to be cohesive. Poems used to flow from him so freely he hadn’t been able to keep track and now his well of motivation has just about run dry.

That’s what led him here, for the third time this week. His creative dysfunction has forced him into the day-to-day habits of an elderly man who spends his days reading in public gardens. It hasn’t helped so far, but maybe this third time will be the charm. Jaskier finds his favorite place: right by the koi pond, next to a strange art installation with ivy crawling along it. He sits at the base of the giant question mark, dropping his backpack onto the bench beside him.

“This better fucking work,” mutters Jaskier to himself and the koi, opening today’s book to a random poem. He refuses to let his mind wander at first, gluing his eyes to the page and reading with intense intent. The first poem he sees is about love.

Groaning, Jaskier flips the page. The next poem is also about love.

The third poem is about war, and Jaskier thinks that might be alright, until he realizes what this long-dead poet is trying to tell him, which is that war is also about love. Because it is, of course, but also of course it is. Jaskier scowls deeply and flips through the book to a random page, hoping to find something to spark inspiration that won’t just make him feel hopeless and single and hopelessly single.

Before Jaskier can get through the title, someone speaks to him, startling him so badly he jumps. “Are you Yennefer’s friend?”

Jaskier scrambles to catch the book by its cover and nearly drops it. He hadn’t even heard anyone approach. “Sorry?”

The stranger audibly sighs, as if Jaskier has inconvenienced him terribly. With all the force of someone announcing their presence at their own death row, he grits out, “I’m here for a blind date she set up. With you.” Jaskier looks up at the man and sees him wearing a blank expression, pointing at the question mark in front of the bench. “By the thing.”

“Oh,” Jaskier says, still looking at the man. It takes a second for the words to sink in because the stranger is perhaps the most handsome person Jaskier has ever seen. He could write a thousand poems and still fail to capture his beauty. He has golden eyes, for one, and a sharply chiseled face. Even grimacing like this, his jaw is set in the loveliest way, and his stern brow is framed by platinum white hair, half-tied up. He’s wearing a fairly gloomy outfit for a blind date, but maybe he told whoever Yennefer is that he would be dressed in black. Regardless, he’s making it work.

The gorgeous stranger is still waiting for an answer, scowl worsening as Jaskier tries to make his decision about how the fuck to handle this. Really, there’s no decision at all— he just impulsively takes the leap. All his best ideas come when he’s stumbling forward blind anyway. “Yes,” he finally says, jumping to his feet. “Yes, um, I’m sorry, you caught me off-guard. I’m Jaskier.”

“Geralt.” They’re of a similar height, but Geralt is so much wider. Jaskier wants to climb him like ivy on a question mark. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“It’s fine! I got here a while ago. You know, can’t be too early!” Jaskier has never been early for anything in his life. He sits down again and shoves his books into his bag as quickly as he can. Geralt shifts his weight back and forth between his feet before awkwardly sitting on the bench next to Jaskier, looking out at the garden. “I’ve never done this kind of thing before,” he admits, which is true. His usual lies and schemes are much less chaotic.

Geralt doesn’t reply to that, leaving Jaskier to privately wonder about his dating life. He stares at the plants, giving the impression that he might be hideously nervous. Jaskier has no idea why someone like Geralt would be nervous about anything but it’s an awkward situation, to say the least. Right as Jaskier’s about to suggest they get out of here before Geralt’s real date shows up, the man asks, “What were you reading?”

“I was studying, sort of,” Jaskier says. “I’m a student.” Then abruptly he wonders how much Geralt knows about who he’s supposed to be, and he swallows, pulse racing.

Glancing over, Geralt’s yellow eyes meet his. There’s no obvious doubt there, just a curiosity. “What’s your major?”

“Poetry,” Jaskier grins as their conversation starts to pick up something resembling a rhythm. “What about you, are you in school?”

“No,” says Geralt, cutting his dreams of a normal date conversation short. “Are you any good? At writing poetry?”

What a weirdo. Jaskier’s heart thrums. “I’d like to think so!” This, at least, is something he knows how to talk about. Except, of course, it isn’t really the truth. “Well… recently, I’ve been in a bit of a creative rut. Just waiting for the right burst of inspiration to come along.” Perhaps this blind date that he’s stolen will suffice, but he doesn’t say that. “This place is great for that, actually. I mean, it hasn’t worked yet, but I’m sure any day those fish will sing for me.”

Geralt blinks. Jaskier feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. He tries a different tactic, crossing his ankles and asking politely, “Are you a reader? What kind of things do you enjoy?”

“Nonfiction,” Geralt answers, slightly stilted. His gaze drifts over to the plants once more. “Not biographies, more like… encyclopedias and field journals. I like field journals.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says, shrinking into himself. This is going terribly. “I’ll have to go bribe some scientists for their field journals, then.” The corner of Geralt’s lip twitches, and Jaskier’s stomach flips. Gorgeous and weird and maybe, although he’s trying his best to hide it behind seven layers of nerves, maybe a little amused by Jaskier. Jaskier is going to fuck him right here in the garden. “Do you take journals of your own for work?”

A rather roundabout way of asking ‘what the fuck is it that you do’ but somehow, it lands. “I’m a… researcher,” Geralt mumbles. How very vague. “But I don’t publish my findings very often.”

Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Do you work… for a company?”

“No.”

“Right. So you’re just keeping all your findings to yourself for no good reason at all.”

“No.”

“Then it sounds like you’re a pretty terrible researcher, actually.”

Geralt’s eyes flash as he turns to glare at Jaskier. “What?”

“Well, if you don’t share what you’ve found with anyone—”

“My… colleagues—”

“Aha! So you have colleagues!” Jaskier pokes Geralt’s side. “You aren’t just holed up in some depressing storage unit with months and months of research just for you.”

Once more, Geralt half-smirks. Not even half— more like a one-fifth smirk. “Years,” he admits.

“Years…” Jaskier tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re perhaps a significant number of years older than me?”

“I had the same thought when I saw you sitting here,” Geralt mumbles.

Jaskier snorts. “Seems like something Yennefer should have warned us about, perhaps. I would ask you directly how old you are, but I’m fairly certain that the only response I will get is a very gruff no.”

“No,” says Geralt, nearly smiling.

Making a show of pouting, Jaskier folds his arms over his chest. “Is that your favorite word?”

“No.” Geralt breaks into laughter as he repeats himself, and his whole face lights up with it. Jaskier laughs too, delighted by how joyous Geralt looks. He’s even more beautiful when he’s happy like this, and Jaskier wants very badly for this not to be their last date. “If I tell you my favorite word, you’re bound to judge me for it, as a poet.”

“As a poet, I swear not to mock you,” Jaskier raises his hand to cover his heart, barely restraining himself from grinning.

But before Geralt can share whatever it is, someone else approaches their bench. A second stranger— a woman about his height with short brown hair, wearing a pretty blouse. Jaskier notices her much more quickly than he’d noticed Geralt, and he makes the connection instantly. This can’t possibly end well.

“Oh, Yen wasn’t kidding,” says the stranger, eyeing Geralt. “You are very distinctive!”

Geralt stares back at her, slack-jawed for a moment. “What?”

“I’m Renfri,” Geralt’s date introduces herself. Jaskier wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole, especially when she glances over at him. Her gaze slides back to Geralt, as does Jaskier’s, and yeah, he is very fucking distinctive with that white hair and those yellow eyes. Damn. “My friend Yennefer set us up for a blind date…?”

As Jaskier contemplates throwing himself into the koi pond, Geralt twists to stare at him. Jaskier can only imagine how mortified he must look right now; his face burns as both Renfri and Geralt look his way. Perhaps Renfri will figure it out before Geralt says anything; she looks like a smart woman.

But Geralt just gets up, dusting himself off and shaking his head. “No,” he tells Renfri, which would almost be funny if it weren’t the weirdest thing Jaskier has ever seen anyone do. Then Geralt leaves, turning to walk away from both of them, leaving Jaskier and Renfri alone together in the garden. Renfri frowns, watching him go with obvious increasing confusion. Jaskier also jumps to his feet, equally confused but determined not to lose sight of Geralt.

He chases the man— and it does feel like a chase, Geralt must be fucking speed-walking away— and finally tracks him down well outside the garden. Geralt is thundering down a set of stairs leading to a parking lot and he doesn’t stop at the sound of Jaskier careening towards him. Only when Jaskier desperately calls his name does he finally stop, slowing until he reaches the bottom landing and then standing there, still.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier calls down the stairs, breathless. He begins to descend them but Geralt doesn’t turn around. “Fuck, you’re fast! Shit. I’m sorry, Geralt.”

Without looking his way, Geralt complains, so quietly that Jaskier nearly misses it, “Yennefer is going to kill me.”

“I would have fucked off,” Jaskier says quickly, hurrying down the rest of the steps until he gets to the bottom. Geralt still doesn’t look at him so Jaskier slides none-too-gracefully into his space, demanding his attention. He’s hardly red in the face or anything, but he looks embarrassed. Jaskier crumbles. “I’m sorry. I— seriously, I don’t care, I would have fucked off. I should’ve left, I should’ve— You should go back there, she’s beautiful!”

Geralt’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t look away. “Why did you lie,” he demands, flat.

“Well,” Jaskier deflates. “Um. You’re beautiful.”

“Hmm.”

“I really am sorry,” he offers.

Geralt, still watching him closely, says, “You don’t sound sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jaskier throws his hands in the air, breaking away from Geralt’s stare— in the greenhouse, surrounded by bright lights and open, manmade nature, it had been easy to sit under the weight of Geralt’s eyes on him. Down here, at the end of a staircase and the entrance to a dark garage, chest still heaving, it feels too intimate. He puts some distance between them, sighing. “You want me to go back there and explain the whole situation to poor Renfri?”

When Jaskier finally turns around again, Geralt’s gaze hasn’t left him. “I want you to come have dinner with me instead,” he says, slowly but purposefully.

“Oh,” breathes Jaskier. “That’s— well, if you want that.”

“I already made a reservation for two. My name’s on the list.” Geralt is fidgeting with the end of his sleeve at first but when he approaches Jaskier he drops it, striding forward without hesitating. “Table for Geralt and one young brunet friend of Yennefer’s.”

Jaskier chokes on his own surprised laugh. “I don’t actually know Yennefer,” he needlessly explains.

“She’s going to hate you,” says Geralt, half-smirking, and then he adds, “Well, she’ll hate both of us now.”

They get to the restaurant twenty minutes late, Geralt’s hair mussed up and lips a bitten red and Jaskier wearing his backpack and a shit-eating grin. The host sees them and immediately tells them their table has been cancelled, and they end up getting terrible two-dollar slices from a hole-in-the-wall pizza place. They eat on the way back to Geralt’s car and then he drives Jaskier back to campus, kissing him soundly in the door to his apartment until Priscilla comes home and yells at Jaskier to get a room. As they squabble Geralt apologizes, polite and nervous, and kisses Jaskier’s cheek and tells him it was nice to meet him.

Jaskier goes inside and spends the next thirteen hours writing the best poetry he will ever write.

#my writing #geraskier fic #geraskier #flash fic challenge #events

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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 3 years

Note

He sounds somehow different on Twitter these days. More concrete answers, less platitutudes, even...happier, more optimistic. I wonder if it has to do with the project defenceless or a new label or both. What do you think?

Ever since the livestream, Louis sounds less bothered, more assured and confident, and more encouraging of fans.

Look at this beautiful collection of words:

REALLY GOOD. MOTIVATED.

He has something to prove and he knows that he’s capable of delivering.

He also told us, indirectly, that he has music that’s close to being finished—

“I’m sure I will have something out this year”... but it doesn’t necessarily include Copy of a copy:

“Still in two minds.”

To me, that means other music is nearly finished, nearly ready to release, but perhaps not completely fleshed out for an album.

But the general direction/ genre/ style of the album is already clear:

As Louis said in his Telegraph interview:

I’m very, very excited. I had basically penciled down a plan before corona took over our lives. And now it's kind of given me a little bit of time to really get into what I want to say and what I want things to sound like. Because, you know, I was really proud of my first record, but there were moments that I felt were truer to me than others. I think that there were some songs where I took slightly more risk and owned what I love, saying, ‘This is who I want to be’. So I want to take a leaf out of their book.

At the time of the interview, he wasn’t feeling particularly inspired:

Right now, being stuck at home, you have so little experience to draw from.

But he knew the sound he wanted:

There’s a certain energy in [Kill My Mind], in its delivery, in its attitude, that I want to recreate. People are struggling at the moment, so I want to create a raucous, exciting atmosphere in my live show, not a somber, thoughtful one.

Remember that Louis has talked about a five-album cycle to transition his listeners to the genre he preferred (tangent... I think Zayn has done the same, in a consistent and ambitious way).

It feels to me like Louis has taken the postponement of his tour in stride, and decided that time doesn’t really wait for anyone. People followed him through KMM, Walls, and OTB. The numbers are solid, and he can afford to accelerate the transition.

Also, Louis can afford to leave some fans behind, who are always searching for an unrealistic narrative in his songs or a happy ending. A rock song can be awesome without a happy ending. He is big enough; he can afford this. I think that must feel like a weight lifted.

All in all, really good tweets today!

#louis tomlinson #15 february 2021

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inkovert · 3 years

Text

Okay, time to get introspective! Long post ahead, it's just me talking to myself so feel free to ignore.

I've been dealing with a lot of anxiety lately, from a number of sources. From feeling trapped in the wrong career path, worrying about not meeting people's (read: authority figure's) expectations, feeling afraid of being perceived as stupid/incompetent...the list goes on. Occasionally, writing is able to help me get out of my head. It's not something I necessarily turn to as a stress reliever because I'm rarely able to write when I'm stressed out, but if, in the off chance, I'm able to bring myself to, it can help me quiet my thoughts for a while. What I didn't expect - and something I've been dealing with a lot lately - is for writing to be the latest contributor to my anxiety.

To sum it all up, I've been feeling a lot of imposter syndrome lately, from every aspect of my life. And the last place I expected to encounter it was among the writing community. That's not to say that I've never compared myself to someone else's work/writing ability and felt like "oh they're so much more talented than me". I do that all the time. Constantly. Comparing myself to others is as common a part of my daily routine as eating a meal or checking my phone for a notification. But I'm at my strongest confidence level in my writing as I've ever been. I'm thoroughly satisfied with how things are turning out (not to say there aren't a few cringe scenes or pieces of dialogue I wish I could take back/desperately edit) but I am very proud of how far I've come with my story and how it has evolved, including my characters. No comparison, I'm thankful to say, can take that away from me.

But....oh but.

I've had this terrifying feeling as of late, especially as I'm on the verge of closing out this draft of SCIF, that I might never write again. I've been trying to rack my brain for an idea, a character design, something to spark inspiration for another story. And I just come up empty. Even if I'm able to come up with very basic thoughts like "what if I started a story with this scenario" or "what if one of my characters was x", nothing comes after that. No matter how long I've ruminated on the idea, it never leads anywhere. Even an idea that I had brewing from over a year ago, I've thought up a few characters' backstories and a basic premise, but I just can't for the life of me take it anywhere. Part of it is feeling overwhelmed (and unimaginative) regarding all the things I would have to figure out to make this story a living breathing thing, that I simply can't. And part of it, I'm realizing, is that I'm not motivated enough to take the story anywhere. I'm not motivated enough to carry my little snippets of barely-there ideas forward.

SCIF is a story that's very close to my heart for a number of reasons. It's a story that had to be written. It had to, no matter how many drafts it took, no matter how frustrating it was to push the story forward, it was begging to be written and I simply wouldn't let it not be. Because, put simply, it's an ode to my teenage years. How awful I felt on the inside, things I endured and struggled with that I kept from friends, things I'm still dealing with to this day and will probably stick with me forever. Cami's story is by no means my story, but there are a few similarities and I used her story to explore things that I was struggling with emotionally that I couldn't talk to anyone about. It started off as that when I started writing it back as a pre-teen/teenager and its transformed into so much more, but I have so much emotion and love and care invested in it that I simply had to see it through. And when that last page is finally reached, and that last word is finally written, I worry that that will just mark the end of everything.

That I'll realize that I'm not a writer, I just wrote a story.

This one story that had to be written. That I had no talent for imagining ideas or premises or anything beyond just this. This was it. This was all I was capable of because this was special to me and I had to see it through.

Cue the imposter syndrome. It's been very hard for me to be on writeblr, not just due to lack of sleep/energy but especially amidst nano because I'm seeing all these new ideas crop up. People posting about their nano projects and story/character intros they're excited to write about. And although I wanna support people's stories, I've gotten into the habit of quickly scrolling past those kinds of posts because it just reminds me of how inadequate I feel right now. That I can't do what other people are doing so readily ( I was about to say easily but I know that coming up with these ideas is not easy, for some maybe, but not everyone). So yeah. It's just been a little bit difficult to be on writeblr lately and I only imagine it will get harder in November. I've considered stepping away for a bit, which I have in a way, unintentionally, because I've been too tired to post/interact, but I always find myself coming back if not just to scroll through something mindlessly or to see a post from a mutual.

Anyway, I shared these feelings with a non-writer friend of mine. And she surprisingly said a lot of insightful things. I shared with her that I've never been able to respond to or do writing prompts (again, due to me being unimaginative), because it was a suggestion she'd thrown out to help with my mental block, and she said that I should try again, and maybe start out with a prompt that's similar to the realm of SCIF so that it's something I have experience writing and I'm not jumping straight into the unknown. She also said that I shouldn't expect to instantly develop the same love or passion as I have for SCIF for another story/idea which is definitely true. But I think the most insightful thing that she said was that I shouldn't be in a rush to move on to something new, especially while I'm saying goodbye to these characters I've been with for the last 12+ years. That if I "spend so much time worrying about what comes next, that [I] might miss the greatness occurring right now". (Can't believe she spat all this wisdom after waking up at 8 am on a Sat practically half asleep and then promptly passing out after typing it all out 😂).

But anyway, all of that has definitely made me very reflective over the last few days, especially this past weekend. And while I still harbor a lot of the imposter syndrome feelings wrt feeling like I'm not a writer, and the thought of just having complete emptiness after scif is finished still terrifies me, I'm trying to dispel those feelings when I'm actually writing the final words/chapters of SCIF (which I haven't touched in a while but that's besides the point). I think when I'm actually immersed in writing the story I will (hopefully) appreciate that things are coming to an end and be able to get into all the emotions that that comes with. But I don't think saying 'don't stress yourself out by trying to fill the inevitable writing void that's about to come!' is as easy an advice to take as it seems. And that's okay! I love writing, I love creating, and the thought of not having any vessel with which to do that just makes me feel...lost? empty? There's no way to describe it. It's something I've always been able to turn to whether out of boredom or excitement to greet my characters on the page and see what they're up to. Daydreaming about my ocs and scenarios to put them in has helped to calm the racing thoughts in my head. Writing's been there for me. It's been a constant for me for over a decade. And I don't think anything could make it easy to deal with parting with that indefinitely.

I wanted to talk about more. Say a little piece about how I've seen other's also struggling with these same feelings (s/o to those that responded to one of my last posts) and much more (the unresolved feeling of the lack of interaction on writeblr that I see continue to get people down), but maybe I will save that for a future post.

I haven't posted anything of or about my writing in a while bc quite frankly I don't know what else to share (nor have I written anything new that I'd like to share...I think, maybe something fluffy idk), but I do like the idea of not just sharing writing but also talking at length about the struggles of writing and the emotions (positive or negative) that come with it. I think that's something I hope to see more of in the community. Because writing is a diverse experience, we always see the end product of it but I think we rarely talk about the actual experience of it and how frustrating, heartbreaking, or uplifting it can be. I really only see that discussion happening through memes 😅 or people cramming it into tags of their posts because I think we've developed this taboo about expressing your vulnerability/insecurity when it comes to writing. But that's inherently what writing is - vulnerability and a heck ton of insecurity. And I've been feeling plenty of it lately. So yeah. Would like to have more posts like these in the future!

#inkoverted thoughts #about writing #long post

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

Repeating the Cycle

I thought I’d write a little story about ink infection, as well as Sammy’s role after he was transformed. It’s inspired by Shazzbaa’s theories (I’d say which, but we don’t want spoilers, now do we?)!

I’ll tell you guys later tonight about the future writing projects I have planned.

---

Sammy awoke in his sanctuary, as he had many times before. He hadn’t been to his apartment in... well, days anyhow. He felt better when he was near the ink. He tried the door to exit his private sanctuary, and it was locked. “Is this a sign?” he asked his lord. “Is it time?”

Yes, his lord spoke back.

Sammy smiled- smiled rather weakly, as the pain from his ink infection had been wearing on him heavily. “Finally.”

All the waiting. All the sickness. All the fear. It was time to see what it was all for. And his lord had assured him, with the comforting voice of a father to a young son, that it would be worth it.

Sammy dragged himself over to the leaking pipe that hung from the ceiling of his sanctuary and turned on the ink supply. Ink sputtered down onto Sammy’s face and clothes, and he fell to his knees, hands outstretched and mouth open as though he was staring into heaven itself. His heart was pounding. He was shaking from adrenaline, and not even being surrounded with, covered in, and consuming the ink that normally numbed his symptoms seemed to be helping. This had to be fear instead of withdrawal.

Do not be afraid, the voice comforted, you will have ascended in mere hours. I promise, you will be safe and healthy. I promise, it will be better than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Thank you! Bendy, hear my praise! I want what you have for me! I crave your embrace!”

Sammy took a long suck of ink from the pipe, then laid down on the floor. He was weak. so weak.

That’s it. You’ve made it. You need only wait now.

Sammy trusted Bendy. Bendy told him that everything he’d done and experienced in his life- even the nightmarish last few years- was leading to something. It told him that everything was okay.

Sammy didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt Joey tying up his ankles. With some struggle, he sat up and tried to push Joey off of him, but it had little effect. Before long, Joey had finished on Sammy’s ankles and was straddling his chest to tie up his hands. The last thing he saw with his biological eyes was Joey’s knife slitting his throat.

When Sammy woke up, the voice of his lord was gone. By trying to make a toon out of him, Joey had robbed him of his ascension and severed his connection to him.

---

Grant awoke in his office to the horrid ticking of his Bendy clock and the array of whispering voices that had plagued him since early in his infection. The clock’s small hand pointed to six, but Grant had no idea whether it was morning or evening. Months of ink infection had ruined his sense of time. He tried the door to his office and found that it had been locked from the outside by chain and padlock. Grant laughed at the absurdity of it all- his life had spiralled into a nightmarish fever dream.

“Does this mean it’s time?” Grant asked.

Yes. Your time is almost up, the voice answered, and for once, Grant trusted it. He felt almost too tired from illness to care.

“I’ll do anything you ask to stop it.”

No response, except for those muttered voices. Grant hadn’t expected one- the voice rarely had his best interests in mind. He shuffled over to his desk and pushed aside some papers to go back to sleep- possibly for the last time.

And then he saw it- a report from Joey that he’d received mere days before his symptoms had started- ending with the words “Fix this or I’ll have your head!” angrily scrawled at the bottom.

That was it. Joey had done this to motivate him. He just had to figure out how to keep the studio from bankruptcy and he’d be cured!

Yes! Yes! You’re right. Fix it! the voice yelled.

Adrenaline flooded Grant’s system as he jerked open his filing cabinet with shaking hands in search of the necessary files to fix the budget. This was his one chance to survive. The muttering voices were screaming in his head- ear-piercing. His head felt ready to explode.

“Shut up and let me focus!” he screamed.

Ink will soothe your symptoms.

That was something that the voice had told him frequently. He hadn’t given in to it yet- not much, anyhow- because common sense told him that ink was inedible. It was also his sincere belief that the voice wanted to kill him. The voice had told him, back before the physical symptoms had become obvious, that he was merely losing his mind and needed to hide it from everyone, lest he be institutionalized. Then, as soon as the physical symptoms had taken root, it had changed its tune- he was losing his mind, because he was ill with an incurable, supernatural disease, and no hospital could help him, and going to one would only guarantee that he would be a test subject for the limited time he had left. Listening to it then had gotten him into this position, and he wasn’t eager to listen to it again.

But this was life or death. He opened the supply on the ink pipe that Thomas- for some reason he didn’t understand- had installed in his office, and drank deeply.

The voice- the muttering- the headache- it all stopped. Silence. Finally.

Grant’s hands were covered in ink now, and were sure to soak any paper he used. I can’t let that stop me. He dropped to his knees and started painting calculations on the floor.

The numbers didn’t add up. Not a single one. Was his mind was too frayed to do basic mathematical functions?! How could he fix anything, let alone this insurmountable debt, while he could barely think straight?! Calm down. Stay calm. Try again. Life or death. Time is money. What will Joey say?!

From the cracks within the wall, Sammy watched as Grant spiralled into panic and tears, and turned his office inside out trying to find anything that could help, expressing his fears through wall-writing, and attempting escape the room. Poor thing, Sammy thought, remembering the pain and uncertainty of his own ink infection, but soon I’ll be able to teach him the truth.

It had been years since Sammy’s sacrifice. Not only did Sammy still work for Joey now that he was a failed toon, Joey had him on a schedule. Every day at 11:00 AM, Sammy would ooze through the walls of Joey’s office for their morning meeting. Sammy wasn’t particularly happy about doing anything for the man who had turned him into a failed Boris just as he was about to fulfill a higher destiny, but the voice had once told him that to follow Joey was to follow his lord, and now those previous words (which Sammy had recorded and studied every day) were all he had left as a doctrine to follow. Sammy hoped that with enough obedience and service, his lord would see past his ruined body and grant him his destiny.

Joey’s demands were often difficult, but they were simple: sacrificing specific people into specific toons, and looking after the infected. Joey rarely sacrificed people on his own anymore, and instead relied on Sammy to do the dirty work of knocking people out, killing them on pentagrams, and then dealing with the resulting dead body, blood and ink-stains on the floor, and whatever abomination came out of the ink machine. Looking after the ink-infected was easier: keep an eye on them, and once they become too infected to be useful, lock them in their offices or in infirmary rooms and take them to their prison in the basement come night. Sammy had overseen the infection of nearly thirty people by now and had sacrificed dozens.

Thankfully, Joey’s demands were not very time-intensive, and he had plenty of time for his passion: teaching the lost ones about their lord and saviour, Bendy.

The lost ones lived in a prison in the very basement of Joey Drew Studios, along with the failed toons. Sammy’s sermons were some of the only times they were allowed out of their cages, and so they were always happy to see him.

Some agreed with him. Often, these were the same ones who had heard a comforting voice as they were infected- generally those with a religious background. Others thought him insane. Their voice had been different- wrong- hallucinatory- and quite often threatening. Sammy had these lost ones do penance in order to find their way to Bendy. Some found him, leaving Sammy feeling accomplished, but also jealous that he could never have what they had. Hopefully, his lord would see the wonderful work he was doing and one day ascend him along with the rest of them- because surely, that was not their final form.

Today’s meeting was like any other. Sammy waited in the walls until Joey’s 10:30 client left, and then slithered out before him.

“Anything to report?” Joey asked casually, as he looked over some paperwork. These meetings were usually uneventful.

“Two people are currently under quarantine. Three more are infected but still able to work for now. Everything is fine- except for one small detail. One of the people under quarantine is destroying his office out of fear. If you’d like, I could tie him up snug until he transforms, or force-feed him ink to speed the process along.”

Joey considered this. "Hmm... well, I do need an Edgar. He would work as well as any. Are you sure he’s close to transforming?” All ink-infected people had strange beliefs and delusions (except for Sammy, of course- his visions were absolute truth), but by this point in their infection, they were generally too tired to do anything destructive- especially ones like this one, who had increased the duration of their infection by resisting the urge to drink ink.

“It will be a matter of hours,” Sammy assured.

“Well, that’s not convenient, but I do have lunch right after this. I’ll get the Charley down to the basement, and you get the Barley and Edgar. The Barley’s name is Lacie Benton, and I’d suggest you knock her out before taking her anywhere- she’s a tough one. But the Edgar shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“No... I suppose not.” Severely ink-infected people were, without exception, very weak, and Sammy was stronger now than he’d ever been as a human.

“Alright! See you down there as soon as possible.”

Sammy nodded, slunk back into the walls, and cursed everything, especially his order to obey Joey Drew. A severely ink infected person had never, and would never, produce a good toon- part of their souls had already been connected to the other lost ones. Joey must have known that, but he still insisted on stealing the people that were meant to be Sammy’s to guide, probably because in Joey’s mind, killing a person was murder but killing a lost one (or someone who soon would be a lost one) was not. Joey didn’t see his people as equally human, and it sickened Sammy. Nonetheless, he slithered through the walls until he came upon Grant’s office.

The office looked like a madhouse. The floors and walls were coated with repetitive writing. Furniture had been strewn about. Grant himself was curled against the ink pipe in his office, covered in so much ink that Sammy had thought he was already transformed before he realized he still had hair. The poor thing had tried so hard, while so sick, at something so futile. Sammy had his orders, but he wasn’t going to lay a hand on his sheep-that-wouldn’t-be until he had to.

Sammy slithered out of the wall- slowly, so as not to scare him.

“Who are you?” Grant asked. He sounded so tired of all the supernatural surprises that he barely cared.

“I’m here on behalf of Joey Drew,” Sammy began.

“I’m so sorry. I tried... but I couldn’t. I suppose you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m here to give you congratulations. The others in your department were able to use these brilliant calculations,” Sammy gestured widely at the messily scrawled gibberish on a wall, “to make a plan. The studio is going to avoid bankruptcy, and you’re going to be cured. Come with me.” Sammy offered Grant his hand. Grant took it, and Sammy helped him up.

“I-I don’t understand. I don’t understand how-” All of those calculations... Grant would have guessed that they were worthless.

“Shh... you’ll be clearer-headed soon. Just come with me, now. I can’t be out there where everyone can see me, but go to the elevator, go to the bottom floor, and I will be there. I promise- you will be fine.”

“Thank you so much. But, my door-”

Sammy slithered back into the wall. Grant heard the click of a door unlocking, followed by the clink of chains falling limp. His office door was unlocked. Do I trust him? Grant asked himself. This day kept getting stranger. If I don’t, I’m guaranteed to die. I have nothing to lose.

Sammy slithered into the wooden floor of the elevator and only reappeared once the elevator hit the very bottom.

“I’m sorry,” Sammy lamented “I want to lead you to Bendy. I want you to find peace as one of my followers. But it is not in the cards.”

The two made brief eye contact- or would have, if Sammy’s face weren’t covered in mask. Grant, obviously, had no idea what Sammy was talking about. Then, Sammy grabbed Grant’s hair, slammed his head against the wall a few times to knock him out, tied him up for sacrifice, and left to find Lacie Benton.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #grant cohen #joey drew

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

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Inspired by that recent post about Burr/Hamilton and drarry, which houses do you think Hamilton characters would be sorted into? It's all to easy, imo, to put Hamilton into Ravenclaw, of course, but he does sort of scream Gryffindor. Without a doubt, Burr is Slytherin, all the way. (and I have my own thoughts on the sisters). What do you think?

Nonnie, this is a truly fantastic question. Thank you for asking it. I want to include a little disclaimer: I'm basing my analysis only on the characters, not the historical figures. Here's a link to post referenced in the ask!

Okay, let's begin!

I will start with Burr, who as you pointed out is definitely a Slytherin. I won't elaborate much other than to say that he embodies all of the traits: self-preservation, ambition, cunning, pride, determination, and resourcefulness.

Now, the other characters.

Alexander Hamilton: It does sound, at first glance, that he'd be a Ravenclaw; he's witty and very intelligent. But Hamilton doesn't value learning and wisdom for their own sake; he uses these traits only as a means of self-advancement and ambition. He spends all that time reading and writing all in the pursuit of his legacy, of his promotion in the world. I would sort him, as you suggested, in Gryffindor. He is courageous, determined, and has a ton of nerve. He's also impulsive and stubborn--both Gryffindor traits.

Eliza Hamilton: Eliza and Hufflepuffs have a lot in common: both are loyal, kind, patient, hard-working, etc. They are both written off as being sweet and harmless--but they're also fierce when needed. Like Slytherins, they pick their battles, but where Slytherins might use risk vs reward or their cunning to make their decisions, Hufflepuffs are more likely to pick battles based on their morals, their values. Just like Eliza. Eliza is a caregiver, a mother, but after Hamilton dies she determinedly and loyally helps build the last of his legacy, finishes the work he started. Alex was Treasury Sec, and accomplished an enormous feat by designing our financial system, but Eliza was an ordinary citizen who used grassroots organizing to accomplish her goals. That requires immense patience and hard work.

Angelica Schuyler: Ah, my lovely Angelica. She is a Ravenclaw. In so many ways she's the voice of reason. As a woman at that time, she had almost no hopes of political advancement in society. And yet, she chose to learn as much as she could. She could (and did) hold her own in conversations with the political leaders of the day--and she had no real "reason" to other than her own interest. That is a true Ravenclaw. We love to learn, we hyper-fixate, we debate. Angelica is literally "looking for a mind at work." She's a Ravenclaw, through and through.

Peggy Schuyler: I think she's a Hufflepuff. We don't see much of her, but what we do is her struggling with her moral code when she and her sisters are breaking the rules by disobeying their father. She's

Thomas Jefferson: This is a tougher one. Overall, he's a Hufflepuff, which I decided after a process of elimination of the other houses. Jefferson isn't a Slytherin like Burr, he lets his opinions and ambitions be known (that's why Hamilton endorses him after all). He isn't fierce or impulsive or brave like a Gryffindor: he didn't fight in the war. As Angelica sings in "Congratulations," "You know why Jefferson can do what he wants?/He doesn't dignify schoolyard taunts with a response." Moreover, he's not quite a Ravenclaw, either. He values intellect, sure, but he also seems a bit blazé, what with his obsession with France and his sort of "I am to be the Secretary of State! Great!" He sort of takes everything in stride and floats to wherever seems to draw his attention. Therefore, I would sort him into Hufflepuff. He claims to care about fairness--that's his reasoning for his loyalty to the people and not wanting the south to assume the war debts. (Although, how much into "fairness" can you be if you're a slave owner....but the fact that he thinks he's motivated by fairness is what nudged me in that direction.) He also has a lot of loyalty to France, to the point that he's willing to put the country at risk somewhat by going to war with England again. He's patient and hard-working. The main piece of Hufflepuff he seems to miss, though, is modesty. He's pretty flamboyant and brags quite a bit. Honestly, I'm a little torn between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for him, but if anyone has any other thoughts I'd love to hear!

James Madison: My knee-jerk reaction was to say he was a Ravenclaw. But no, I think he's a Slytherin. He's an opportunist. He's not as quiet and guarded as Burr, but after writing the Federalist Papers with Hamilton, he then switches over to Jefferson's side. I find it interesting that he sort of sits back and lets Jefferson do the fighting with Hamilton, while he, as Speaker of the House, has to be friendly with everyone as he negotiates with Congress members for their votes. He also seems to be more of an orchestrator of the Meeting with Jefferson and Hamilton over the capital/the banks. He convinces Jefferson of the idea to meet Hamilton over dinner. He's cunning, ambitious, self-preserving, and resourceful.

George Washington: Washington is a Gryffindor. He's brave, determined, and chivalrous. He explains in "History Has Its Eyes on You" that he failed in a previous battle because he was inexperienced and probably impulsive. While he's grown out of that now, and he has more maturity and wisdom, he still possesses the same traits that make him a strong leader.

Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan: I think they're all Gryffindors. They're all such revolutionaries and kinda loud and funny. They're not super developed, sure, but the traits we do see are Gryffindor-ish, especially Laurens.

Thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#harry potter #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #sorting hat #hamilton #alexander hamilton #hamilton musical #eliza hamilton #angelica schuyler #thomas jefferson #hamilton the musical #i loved this ask #thank you nonnie #ask box #ask me #ama #ask me anything

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rainbuckets8 · 3 years

Text

Why you should watch RWBY

TL;DR:

Summary: RWBY is an epic fantasy with themes like found family, the struggle to remain hopeful, the younger generation growing up, villain redemption, and systemic evils.

Strengths: RWBY has unique and memorable characters. The show is smart. It has excellent cinematography and animation. It has representation. It tackles hard topics. It’s got incredible music and it’s free on RT’s website.

Weaknesses: RWBY has some early growing pains, specifically volume 2’s finale, as well as budget and polish. Later on, volume 4 is weaker than the rest. Volume 8's finale is extremely distressing for a lot of viewers (and we haven't seen the follow up to those events yet). The fandom can be bad at times.

Misinformation: The early volumes being bad, the racism plot line, and the animation (not the same as “budget and polish”) are not as bad as you may have heard from YouTube.

Suggested viewing order

Red Trailer, White Trailer, Black Trailer, Yellow Trailer

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4 Character Short

Volume 4

Volume 5 Weiss Character Short, Volume 5 Blake Character Short, Volume 5 Yang Character Short

Volume 5

Volume 6 Adam Character Short

Volume 6

Volume 7

Volume 8

(I did my best to make this spoiler-free. When there are spoilers, they’re worded ambiguously enough that someone new to the show would never guess what’s going to happen just by reading this.)

What to expect

The world of Remnant is filled with monsters called the creatures of Grimm. Warriors called Huntsmen and Huntresses defend humanity. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang go to school to become the next generation of heroes. Together they make Team RWBY (pronounced, “Ruby”)! Joining them is team JNPR (“Juniper”), made up of Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren. But evils even more dangerous than the Grimm are ready to make their move, and school quickly becomes an afterthought…

(I mention these next two topics specifically bc they can immediately turn someone away based on bad expectations.) There is a fantasy school setting, but RWBY is not a show about school. School topics are not a dominant idea: it seems to resemble a setting like Harry Potter, but the actual focus of the show rarely touches on things like classes or homework or tests, and we quickly move on. There is romance and it has a role in the plot, but RWBY is not a romance show. On the scale of romance in FMAB to She-Ra, RWBY falls somewhere in the middle.

What is RWBY about, then? RWBY is like an epic fantasy or high fantasy, despite first appearances. Perhaps not every genre convention is followed, but at its core, RWBY is about an epic struggle of good and evil.

RWBY contains themes such as found family, the struggle to remain hopeful, the younger generation growing up, villain redemption, and systemic evils.

Strengths of the show

The characters are unique and memorable. One of the cool things is that they all draw inspiration from a real life fairy tale, myth, or something else. They designs are all top notch. One character who died with extremely little screen time even got so much fandom love, they included the character in a mid-hiatus short later. The characters have unique weapons, too; in the world of Remnant, a weapon is an extension of ones’ soul, and they reflect the variety of their owners. They’re also just plain cool; Monty was famous for following the “Rule of Cool.” And their individual stories are all compelling and interesting.

The show is smart. As a fandom, we generally pick up on the narrative hints the creators are dropping. And our predictions usually come true, but not in a way that makes the show predictable and boring. We very rarely guess exactly what will happen, but we have some similar idea of it. It’s just excellent foreshadowing.

RWBY also likes to play with tropes, as an extension of this. Often it will challenge them, or subvert expectations. In other cases, RWBY uses tropes to avoid showing us what we already know will happen. This occurs in both characters and plot. For example…

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR VOLUME ONE FOR THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH: Jaune’s entire character arc is about trying to be the anime protagonist, and learning that he doesn’t have to do things alone, and it’s ok to be a support main. The show sets up the narrative in a way that looks like, oh of course the direction it will go is him becoming the main character, but then it destroys toxic masculinity instead.

Our characters are smart, too. Plot-induced stupidity generally doesn’t happen. (A few big mistakes or errors in this regard aren’t actually the fault of the narrative, either, but animation and miscommunication and failure to execute. And those aren’t common.) It goes beyond just “not being dumb,” however. The villains’ plans are incredibly clever, and our heroes sometimes even guess at the usual “plot twists.”

The cinematography is just incredible. There are numerous freeze frames with extreme attention to detail that reveal character motivations or arcs or foreshadowing, there are many effective cuts and moving parts, there are soooo many parallels and callbacks, and visual cues such as lighting and color all are used appropriately to convey emotion and assist the narrative. It is one of the biggest overlooked strengths of the show, imo, simply because a lot of people in the fandom don’t notice these things as much for whatever reason, or else don’t give as much praise about them.

The animation is extremely good as well. Budget issues and technology issues aside (which means a lack of polish), the actual animation? The fight choreography, and all the other parts of animation that aren’t just “expensive CGI” are all wonderful. You can have very shiny, polished turds after all, and RWBY is like the opposite: not very polished, especially early on, but very well animated. All the trailers, volume 1 episode 8, the volume 1 finale, the volume 2 penultimate episode, and basically everything else hold up extremely well even today. If anything, the worst fight animation was in volumes 4 and 5 because of Maya growing pains, and those are an example of being more polished, but not necessarily better animated. Animation of faces has always been good, animation of characters has always felt lively. Aside from a few small actual hiccups (that one person running across rooftops for instance), it’s well done.

There are LGBTQ+ characters. The treatment of one of the recent trans characters, in volume 8, was nothing short of amazing. They worked with a VA who was trans. The moment of canon confirmation was important to the character for backstory, because of course that affects the character’s life, but not the only important thing about the character. The representation is not in-your-face or pandering. And there is a split of representation among the main cast and the minor characters, with promises of more to come (notably they’ve said they’re working on more mlm for future volumes, too).

RWBY is not afraid to tackle hard topics. It deals with things like mental illness, systematic racism, and cycles of abuse. It’s not because the show is trying to earn “gritty and dark” points, it’s because those are some of the topics that real people have to struggle with as well. And the show handles most or all of them very well, in a way that shows respect and an honest attempt to depict these things as best they can. (NOTE ABOUT VOLUME 8: THERE IS A VERY DIFFUCLT CONVERSATION CURRENTLY HAPPENING. I am on the side of, let’s wait and see what happens next because the story isn’t over, so we haven’t really seen the fall out. But I understand why this paragraph feels really difficult to agree with if you've seen the volume 8 finale. I trust the track record of the rest of the show, personally.)

As an example, the show has a theme that villains are rarely evil just because. A lot of villains choose to do bad things because they were hurt in some way. Some lived in poverty; some were hurt by racism; many of them are victims of abuse. But the show doesn’t make excuses for them. It’s possible to be both sympathetic and still choose evil over and over again (that’s called tragic). The ones who eventually do try to do good again are not always forgiven, either.

The music is amazing. I can probably count on my hands the number of times I’ve heard someone say otherwise, which is astonishing when you consider this fandom.

It’s also free on RT’s website. (A paid, “FIRST” subscription removes ads and lets you see new episodes one week early, but they all eventually release for free.)

Weaknesses of the show

Early volumes’ growing pains exist, much like most or all other shows. (Even some of the greatest were not immune to this, like ATLA.) In this case, however, it’s a little bit rougher. A large reason why is that this was kind of the first big thing from RT to ever come out. If you remember back almost a decade ago, their only other big thing at the time was RvB, which was machinima. They pretty much started from scratch with everything, from assets to VAs to animation to writing. Imagine if a random twitch streamer, like Ninja (idk who’s popular these days) said one day, “OK let me just direct something that’s intended to be the next great movie series of all time, like Star Wars, with a $4 bill and an iPhone camera.” Then went out and actually made something. Of course it would be rough…but then it turns out the movie is actually really good. And then you get to watch over the next several years as everything gets better and better until it’s honest-to-god comparable to the MCU. That’s kind of what happened with RWBY.

One specific growing pain was the volume 2 finale. Pretty much everything else up until that point, I love about the show. But the finale just fails to deliver on the build up of tension from other episodes. Some of it is because of later plot developments that we didn’t know at the time; some of it is because of just not great writing; some of it is because of just not great animation; and yes, some of it is budget. Regardless, it’s a low point for the show.

Speaking of, the budget for the early volumes is super small. The infamous volume one shadow people, the infamous person jumping across the rooftops in volume two, and just production quality isn’t high compared to a major release from some established studio. These are real weaknesses of the show that for some people, make it unwatchable, and if that’s you, that’s ok.

One last weakness of the show, the screen time per episode, especially early on, is NOT a full 20 minutes like you may expect of an anime (or anime-inspired-western-media, for those of you who will die on the “RWBY is not an anime” hill). This is a trend that has stuck with the show, a shorter run time per episode, for generally the entire lifetime. On one hand, it means it’s a little less daunting to catch up or rewatch than the number of episodes might imply. On the other, early on, some episodes have a little weird pacing. It also means the writing had to adjust for this, so while RWBY got really good at telling a story within a shorter amount of time, there’s also challenges with that too. Perhaps one of the notable ones is the pacing, with slower moments sometimes feeling like it takes up too much screen time, or not enough. Volume 4 was a particular struggle for the crew, both because they switched animation engines and also for the story.

Common complaints that I don’t agree with

I don’t agree that the early volumes were actually bad overall. Growing pains, yes, but not bad. I attribute that complaint to overly focusing on one character’s storyline, back when it wasn’t clear there was so much more to come and before people realized the show would challenge the tropes instead of falling into them. It’s pretty much just volume 1 when people say this anyway, most of them I’ve heard admit that volume 2 was a lot better (except the finale) and almost everyone loves volume 3. And looking back on it, I do think volume 1 holds up.

Tying into this, the racism plot line is another common complaint. I don’t think it’s actually executed quite that badly. I think it makes sense for there to be regional differences in the amount of racism we see, it just so happened that we only saw a very small and isolated environment, Beacon, for much of the early volumes. (Incidentally, that’s actually similar the environment I myself grew up in.) It’s not perfect, though. But there’s no doubt that the later volumes do a better job portraying this. Again, I attribute it mostly to people not knowing how long the show would run for at the time, so of course if that’s all we saw, it would’ve been bad. But it’s not. I have a lot of respect for Miles and Kerry for even attempting to handle the racism topic in the first place. And for the faults that DO exist in this plot line, I credit them for learning and growing past that too, and doing better in later volumes.

The animation is not bad. I’ve already touched on that earlier, but people confuse “budget and polish” with “animation.” Give me RWBY any day over Michael Bay’s Transformers: no matter how much polish those robots have, they’re still a confusing mess to try and follow. And the polish isn’t even an issue once we get past the growing pains of Maya and get a bigger budget, because wow does this show look good now.

Between these three complaints I hear about often, I think those are the biggest ones. And they’re all generally done in bad faith, based not on just those but on other more provocative statements people also make with them. That’s part of my issue with the fandom, specifically the vocal but small parts of the fandom, because they’re just repeating these things from early days that aren’t true. But YouTubers gotta get those rage and hate clicks somehow, right? Unfortunately it discredits the show a lot and influences other people’s opinions into not giving it a fair chance, because it’s become a narrative of “RWBY IS BAD” when they all won’t shut up about it. So yeah, fandom can be bad, join at your own discretion. (Of course, all fandoms have annoying parts, and my interactions with the fandom have been good overall, otherwise.)

Onto other complaints, some say the cast is bloated. I don’t agree, but I don’t think this one is in bad faith. I think we get the important characters as much screen time as we can, and the minor characters don’t actually detract from that; one of the differences between good minor characters and bad ones, is that bad ones take up too much time. RWBY has a ton of characters but many of the minor ones don’t actually take up too much time. So it appears bloated, but actually I don’t think it is.

Finally, a small word on the no-no topics. Adam, and Monty. Adam is like the champion of the Monty topic. Which essentially boils down to “Miles and Kerry are ruining Monty’s vision for the show.” Toxic fandom is truly awful and I have no respect for anyone who says anything like that. Shame on all of you. This isn’t really anything negative about the show, but the fandom, and tbf all fandoms have toxic parts. But toxic fandom can be a real and valid reason to not watch a show. Thankfully they seem fewer in number these days, but I think they’ve evolved into hiding behind other characters or topics, so you know. Beware. Again, it's not too hard to avoid them or block them, and my interactions otherwise with most fans have been good.

#rwby

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jerichomere · 3 years

Text

MBS EPISODE EIGHHHHT

weak. I hate to say it but I could feel it in my heart from the start. It had good moments but this episode just didn’t bring it home. I’m going to break this up into my usual notes and then some general evaluation. Notes: What is the deal with curtain and food? He has so many weird scenes with meals.. there’s probably some hidden meaning here but I don’t know what it is And they didn’t get to chuck-root the school :((((( Constance? Wants to pour acid on curtain’s feet Haha I liked Kate’s little “Nyoope” when the recruiters found her Martina redemption and the fighting tetherball team, sure Jackson and Jillson get even more unhinged. they terrify me We got Kate yeeting Constance up the tower, but her bucket had a built in rope motor somehow WE GOT KATIE-KAT but we didn’t get Sorry it took me so long And Milligan’s still moody instead of joyous Go Constance, break the thing, yay Number Two and Rhonda had some real shippy energy in this episode and PLEASE they are SISTERS Two more close profile shots of curtain in this episode, one where he is physically shorter than Milligan but dominating the interaction, and one where he’s physically looking down at Reynie but Reynie’s getting to him. Reynie has a heart to heart and curtain passes out. That’s different. Sticky even said, “it’s anger” and he was like “no, it’s vulnerability” oooooookay then. The whisperer is not an intercom/loudspeaker. sheesh. So the kiddos leave and the twins talk, resolving nothing, then curtain escapes REYNIE AND MISS PERUMAL NO COMPLAINTS HERE *sobs* Kate and Madge at the end <3 Constance refuses adoption!?!?!?!??! And no age reveal obviously rip Sticky’s family redemption he’s going to the totally not made up Boatwright Academy now Mr Benedict is like, I love you all, no snowball fight, the end. SIKE Curtain, SQ, and a totally real engineer lady are on a BOAT. You know, I felt bad for the engineer this whole series, as she is portrayed as kind of doing the technical work hoping it’ll be used for good, while curtain abuses its practical application, but her mood really shifted in that last scene. She was like heheh hey guy that I know is definitely is evil, howabout this mysterious blueprint... are they really trying to set up the sequel. Some tree branches will have to get pretttty bent.

Evaluation: keep reading! (sorry it gets long)

To recap what I’ve said from the start, I think the casting is fantastic but the tone is wrong. The darker, more saturated filter, the isolating camera shots, and very understated music make things colder and stilted. This is a constant throughout the whole series. The book was warm, messy, and full of charm, which I didn’t feel watching the show.

characters were.. compromised? Mr B starts off with a LIE about test winners going to Boatwright Academy. That undermines EVERYTHING he does from then on. “Regrettable but necessary” DOESN’T cut it. He’s also just so anxious and jittery instead of his gentile, kind, strong book self. Just from the show, they didn’t frame his genius very well. He seems more like a fool. Not really confidence-inspiring. In the same way, Being directed to cheat is one thing, but Reynie should NOT have lied to SQ to manipulate him into seeing the forest or whatever. Yeah reynie felt bad about it and SQ called him on it, but this is like the core values of our protagonist team, the strong love for truth. Also, I feel like in the show Reynie’s leadership isn’t highlighted. Like, everyone else has their thing but you almost wonder why he’s framed as the main character. The girls got bonding and the boys got bonding but there was hardly opportunity for him to really bring the team together into a cohesive unit Also, as much as I love Number Two’s life of crime (because it’s funny), she too should have that love of truth, but instead regularly does unlawful things. AND they never explained her eating, and even stopped having yellow clothes :( Additionally, the side story of her and Rhonda’s friction (entertaining I suppose) also really changed the character dynamic. In the book, the adult team was unwavering and wise, a sturdy basis for the perilous missions of the children. But their internal strife, while adding drama, makes them seem unreliable and less absolutely good and trustworthy. And I think trust and integrity are key parts of the book’s solid narrative. Constance’s refusal of the adoption felt wrong too. She was like, “Respectfully decline, but. I’ll stick around here.” I think they were trying to keep going with her contrariness, but it just comes across as foolish pride? Constance is a LITTLE GIRL. She DESERVES a FAMILY. SHE DESERVES A LOVING PARENT (and two wonderful sisters). Yeah family doesn’t have to be by blood OR lawful paperwork, but her actions in this scene really just. cuts off the feels at the knees. We KNOW she’s strong and independent but that doesn’t mean she HAS TO BE or even necessarily WANTS to be all the time. Over the course of the series we see her warming up to people, a kind word here, a little smile there, but this adoption refusal is.. harsh. Then we’ve got Sticky. Yes, he struggles with the comfort of the whisperer. And he overcomes it. BUT in one of the earlier episodes, they had him fighting with the team, defending the whisperer, dismissing his friends... and I count this as betrayal. It may be extreme on my part, but I think he went too far. The Society is the Society. In the book he bested his fears for them and with their support. Yeah he desperately wanted to just give in but he had PRINCIPLES and knew why he couldn’t. His honor, his responsibility to stop curtain, and his loyalty to his friends got him though. But in the show he just dumped them. And then was like, oh oops jk I��m back. (I knowwwwww the book has the privilege of being able to explain characters’ thought processes and emotional states, while shows have to work with more tangible actions and words but stilll I did not Like That) And finally, curtain wasn’t smart. He had hired people doing all the work. He just used it to his ends. Less evil genius and more manipulating creep. But this? I’m more ok with. As an villain, he got the job done. But this makes him less of a foil for Mr Benedict and more of an antagonist, if that makes sense. In the book they never knew each other, but were both alone in the world and greatly smart, and they chose verrry different paths. Whereas in the show he and B were always kind of opposites, warring in motivation and method from the start.

Let’s talk about the boss battle (such as it was). I said it was weak and I meant it. The book is heart pounding. There is so much going on, and so many people in play, the narration jumping all over the place in real time, all culminating in that clash at the top of the tower. Now, the show... the highs weren’t the highs. It felt more like checking off story points. Kate and constance outside - check. Resist the whisperer to stall for time - check. Milligan reveal - check. Reynie starting to figure out narcolepsy triggers - check. Constance shouting then you are the greatest fool of all - um, no, that didn’t happen. Constance defeating the whisperer - check. Curtain escapes - check. We got zero action. No good fights. I know Emmy Deoliveira is a kid and I’m not mad at her for not being able to do action sequences or run with Constance piggyback. But there was almost no physical conflict on-screen, and that’s Kate’s real time to shine. Also they had Number two and Rhonda in the tower ready to fight and then they just didn’t. All this build up for nothing. Furthermore, and I think this is the biggest problem, there was no momentum. Yeah they cut from scene to scene, but the music and tone cut scene-to-scene too. So there was like, dramatic music, Kate’s ready to fight! Get hyped! and then cut to absolutely silent, mr curtain staring at someone. feel mildly disturbed. and then cut to Rhonda and Number two being friends and ready to fight! Aww! And yay! Get hyped! And then cut back to Sticky sitting in a chair, dead silent. It goes on like this. The music, the urgency, should have carried throughout, building in intensity and desperation as the kids come together and curtain unravels more and more and then BAM! curtain down and OH NO! the whisperer and finally Constance’s “I... DON”T.... CARE!!!” and then the madcap escape from the island. Watching, I just couldn’t get swept away. Storywise, they tied it all up and logically it made sense but the emotional culmination just wasn’t there. It was over and done too quick. It fell flat. I didn’t feel the struggle, the suspense. And then they gave us a fabricated Mr B and Curtain conversation that didn’t really help anything. And then the falling action had some nice moments but as I mentioned, the things with constance and sticky kind of made it feel less relieving, joyful, and sweet. I know a snowball fight is elaborate to set and film but I would have loved to see it.

Final thoughts I can’t help but love the kids. I’ll say it again, I sure liked this casting. And for all the changes they had to make, the original central plot was there, and most of the characters were recognizable even with all the alterations. So I did have problems with some of that underlying integrity, as well as the overall tone and execution, but I also laughed at the little funny things, jammed to the title theme, and was excited to see this, my favorite book in the world, get more recognition. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to adapt a work of prose into an audiovisual medium, and considering how outlandish the book sometimes got, they gave it their best shot. I didn’t love it but I can recognize the accomplishment. In terms of faithful and well-made adaptations, on a scale of Percy Jackson to Harry Potter, I’d give The Mysterious Benedict Society a 6.5/10.

#mbs #The Mysterious Benedict Society

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