#the first few posts on my blog right now is all orange

[mwahkazu]

୨୧ synopsis: — you wake up to find your phone flooded with messages from your close friends, all of whom are seeking to the spend the day hanging out with you! how and who will you decided to spend your day with?

꒰ characters: ꒱ wanderer, kazuha, heizou, venti, xiao

꒰ tags: ꒱ gn reader, intended as platonic relationships but is free for interpretation, wanderer is referred to as kunikusuzhi (kuni), college setting

꒰ note: ꒱ a stealing the spotlight special to celebrate this blog reaching 100 followers! as usual i have tagged those from the series to this post encase they’d be interested. thank you all sm again for the endless support <33

golden threads of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting your stilled room in soft orange and yellow hues. a mellow summer breeze sneaks its way in through the small opening of your window, one you had mistakenly left open from the previous night’s endeavors of sneaking out onto the fire escape to get some fresh air after hours of being cooped up in your room studying.

the distant sound of traffic noise and passing metro trains reaches your ears, making you stir in bed as you gradually start to wake up from your deep sleep. at first, you’re thinking it’s still too early for you to be waking up. after all, your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, so surely you’ve still got another hour or so of sleep left.

but just as you let your head fall back down into your pillow, that cursed sound of your phone’s alarm blares all throughout your room within the next second. so much for getting more sleep.

restraining yourself from throwing your phone against the wall, you shut off the alarm and begrudgingly pull yourself out of bed. once your feet meet the floor, something soft begins to tickle at your skin, the sudden sensation enough to startle you awake as you look down to see the source.

“rosseland?” the cat simply meows in response, affectionately rubbing itself against your legs and emitting soft purrs. a small smile finds its way to your lips. “decided to stick around for a bit longer? well, let’s hope whoever your owner is isn’t freaking out right now…”

you crouch down to give the small feline a few gentle pets on it’s back before beckoning him to follow you into the kitchen for breakfast.

most of the time you find yourself skipping breakfast in the mornings, usually due to the fact that you end up sleeping past your alarm and thus end up in a hurry out the door in order to get to your classes on time. today seemed to be your lucky day though, as not only did you actually manage to get out of bed at the appropriate time, but you got to indulge in a full and gratifying breakfast—cereal.

after serving rosseland a small portion of cat food into his bowl, you walk over to the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk out to pour into your own bowl of cereal. just as you do so, your phone buzzes on the countertop behind you. probably just a random notification from an app you don’t even use.

after a minute, it buzzes again. and again. and again? archons, what in the world is going on?

heaving out a sigh, you walk over to grab your phone. on the homescreen, you’re greeted with several messages, all from five different individuals whom you know all too well. how strange that they all decided to text you separately. there is a group chat with everyone in it so why not text through there?

feeling too tired to question such behavior, you decided to just brush it off and begin going through each person’s messages one by one.

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: KUNIKUZUSHI ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: HEIZOU ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: KAZUHA ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: XIAO ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: VENTI ꒱

welcome to the 100 followers special for stealing the spotlight !

this is no ordinary event, but one that i have exclusively planned to center around the characters from my smau series that has and continues to receive constant support from all you lovely readers~

therefore, i figured it was only fair to make a special event in which you the audience can have some power in how the story goes. engagement in this event is quite simple.

after reviewing the text messages you received from each character, your job is to accept one character’s offer and then name an activity you’d want to do for the day. once you’ve made your decision, you will submit your choices to my inbox where i will then write out a little headcanon piece for you based on your choice and how i think that will play out :3

IMPORTANT: this event only has 5 slots available, one for each character. there is no guarantee that i will pick your submission as due to time constraints, i can only stick to doing five. once i’ve made the selection, i will compile all five pieces into one post. on there i will be tagging the user that requested, announcing the activity they wrote for said character and then the written headcanons i came up with.

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: march 26 2023

taglist (open 29/30) ; ━ this taglist is dedicated to my smau only! if you are interested in being added to the taglist for the smau, you can either comment on the masterlist post or send to my inbox!

@peaceindreams , @miwafei , @whipped-for-fictionals , @blissfullyapillow , @yotraumainthebuilding , @reixtsu , @almond-t0fu , @quacking-simp , @kika-a , @kookiibun , @silentmissinghallucination , @sleepyeri , @xiaossocksniffer , @14-paradise , @kaitfae , @cupid-spams , @semi-orangeapple , @scarletttcroww , @sl-vega , @ethiy , @swivy123 , @ceneid , @kunikuzushis-darling , @beasalmeh , @enjisthings , @lloovvv , @sn1perz , @dreamyysouls , @glxssmemories

#stealing the spotlight! ✩ #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smau #genshin x reader #wanderer #kaedehara kazuha #shikanoin heizou #xiao #venti #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #heizou x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader

[thirdnap]

Hello,

Here is the life update of my past 4 years.

I began this blog many years ago in 2012 when I was only 14 years old, and I then slowly gained the courage to start posting art at 17 when I joined the K fandom. It's wild to think that I am now 25!

I was never quite consistent in posting since I only shared my art here whenever I felt like it, but it slowed down ever so gradually to basically 1 post a year for Yata’s birthday. This blog helped me with my fear of showing my art to others as I was incredibly embarrassed of my work for a really long time.

I soon moved to the USA from my homeland and attended animation school for 1 year, and then studied illustration and visual development for 4 years and I managed to accomplish many things I never could have imagined. I graduated with honors this past May, was selected by the faculty and head of department as my major’s trustee scholar, completed my 84-page art book thesis, got a few pieces into the Society of Illustrators, and my school even shot a mini docu-film about me, my art and my life where I got to share my upbringing. Art school was very demanding and at times tough but I managed to get a lot out of it :)

In July of this year, I moved to California from Florida and I’m much happier than I’ve ever been. I come from a very small country so I never expected to get this far in the art world. I drew Yata for fun in my bedroom whenever I wanted to and now I’m in LA breaking into the animation industry (receiving my first credit too!)

the drawings I share here are a very very small part of the illustrations I make weekly. I wish I could share them with everyone as I’m very proud of them but I enjoy separating my fandom life from my real life a little too much! Surprisingly I am working as a background artist at the moment despite never drawing backgrounds in this blog lol. I think many of you would be surprised at how different my work is from irl!!

It hasn’t always been great, so I don't want to make it seem like it's been all perfect. I’ve had many hard times too and at the moment I am extremely homesick since I haven't returned home in a long time but I think these are needed sacrifices.

However, I'm excited for 2024. I'm looking forward to growing as an artist and my goal is to continue to have fun with art as much as I have right now. I think I’m lucky to have a great support system including my best friend @fuurais who has been by my side for 10+ years and I managed to convert into a K artist too <3

Thank you for the support, for the kind messages, and for the excitement every time I post. I am always happy when I think of this blog and the friends I made. I unironically think about Yata every day as he is past being my comfort character tbh. I am currently writing this with full-on orange hair that I've had for a few years now lol.

I don’t think I’ll be as active as I was at 17 but I will try to not ghost this blog completely. There are a lot of things I haven’t drawn yet that I really want to do and I'd love to share those drawings with everyone.

Lots of love -

Tael <3

#k project #project k #yata misaki #misaki yata

[onlymingyus]

Omega, Ours

pairing; choi seungcheol (scoups) x kwon soonyoung (hoshi), f reader

genre; smut, a/b/o au

warnings; alpha!cheol, beta!reader, omega!hoshi, poly relationship, heat, fingering (anal and vaginal), pegging, anal, mlm (it's very heavy in this one), oral (m receiving), scratching, biting, scenting, cum eating, slick eating, mommy/daddy kink, pet names, mentions of aftercare, mid care?, multiple orgasms, i am probably missing something

w/c; 4.7k and some change 

requested; no

a/n; this fic is posted in full on Ao3. this is my first ABO, you don't have to read it but for those who enjoy the genre and want to there will be an excerpt below and the link. i do hope you enjoy my take on it. no tag list as this isn't posted here in full.

His breath comes out thick, his own scent of oranges and honey filling his nose as Soonyoung wakes up for the second time today. He had told you and Seungcheol both that he wasn’t feeling well before either of you had left for the day, but now he understood why. 

Sweat was causing his clothes to stick to his body uncomfortably and slick made his underwear even more unbearable. Groaning, Soonyoung turns over on the bed, his hands already pulling for blankets to start making his nest. He knew there were other things he needed to do but his Omega was crying out for comfort and the scents infused into those blankets were the closest thing he could get to his Alpha and Beta for the moment. 

You hadn’t gone far only needing to run a few errands when your phone vibrated in your pocket making you move some bags to one arm in order to take it out to see who was calling you. Seeing Soonyoung’s face on your screen brought a smile to your face but also some concern to your mind because you knew he hadn’t been feeling well. Lifting the phone to your ear as you balance the bags on your hip you start to speak when you hear his pitiful whines sending a wave of panic through your body. 

“Oh…Soonyoung.” 

Your voice was enough to make Soonyoung’s eyes water as he pulled more of the clothes from the hamper in your shared bedroom dragging them to the bed. His own clothes were long discarded in order to try to give him some relief from his rising temperature and his painfully hard cock. 

“Need…need you. Need Cheol.” 

Finish reading the rest HERE

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

#hoshi smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #ao3 #a/b/o #svt smut #soonyoung smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen mlm

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: Dad!Mulder, His "Mini Me"s, and Sports

Mulder deserved to bond with his "mini me"s over any sport under the sun. Here are a few fics that do just that.

Loose chronological order below~

Canon Timeline

Susan Proto’s Memory's Promise

""His first, real baseball glove. He smiled at the fond memories he held of his father and he going to the sporting goods store to pick out the perfect glove. He remembered the arduous process of breaking in the glove and trying to follow every single direction his father had given him to do it just right.

He oiled it. And he rubbed it. And he placed the baseball inside to make the perfect pocket and flinched slightly at the memory of how his hands stung when he'd tried to wrap the rubber band around it to hold the ball in place and the band snapped and stung him to the point of tears. He remembered his father found him whimpering slightly, and gently guided him into his den, all the while telling him he had just the thing to keep that ol' ball in place. His dad pulled out the biggest rubber band he'd ever seen; Mulder smiled at the sweet memory of being so taken with something so simplistic.""

Pre-Empedocles Mulder remembers a happy childhood memory of becoming Samantha's protector and learning baseball from his father. He's ready.

@folieadeux1121-blog's What Might Have Been

""Hips before hands!” came a little voice in front of Mulder. William glanced over his shoulder, up at his dad, his smile wide. Now four years old, he was excited for his first baseball lesson, and had been ever since Mulder had told him it was happening.  

“That’s right kiddo.” Bending down, Mulder wrapped his arms around his son to take hold of the bat the little boy was holding. It was almost as big as William was. “Just remember that and when the ball comes towards you…” he nodded at Scully, signalling he was ready for her to pitch. “You follow through like this…” Scully threw the ball, as gently as she could, and with Mulder’s help William did as his dad asked, the bat connecting with it and sending it a short way to their left. “That’s it!""

Mulder teaches his four-year-old son how to play baseball under the happy eye of Scully. It's not real (that is... if you read the last part.)

Lara Means's (Alt. Ao3) Unrealized Reality

""When he had just turned ten, he practically begged his parents to let him try out for Little League. His father thought it was a great idea, but it seemed to her he was more suited to basketball. Tall and thin, but graceful, like his father. No matter. Her husband had already decided their boy would be the 2025 World Series MVP.""

S9 Mulder returned from the run one year later, married Scully, fathering another baby, and taught his son how to play baseball. Alas, it was all false (or not if you skip the last part.)

@frangipanidownunder’s (Ao3) 

Son

""Mulder hoisted the hoop set up to his son, handed him the drill, watched him work. That floppy hair, the gritted teeth, the flashing smile every so often. Pure Mulder. But the steely eyes, the surety of his hands, the precision, that was all Scully.

Back down on the handstanding, admiring his handiwork, Jackson span the ball on his left index finger. A genetic throwback or a learned thing?

“One on one, old man?""

Post Finale Will shows up to fix Mulder's basketball hoop and start to bond over their mutual interest.

Micro Fic Series - Chapter 8

""Mulder have been able to gather them up, press them, ready to keep like a journal of his days without them. When Mulder discovered he’d never hit a ball, he went all Fox Mantle and now they head out every afternoon, bats slung over shoulders, careful smiles on ruddy faces. She watches as her son, their son, bat propped against his legs, hands on hips, flexes his jaw and listens to the instructions. A willing young Mulder outlined in an orange glow. A proud father finally able to share precious moments, in the autumn years of their lives.""

AU-- Post My Struggle II(?) Mulder is recovering from the virus, taking time to teach William to play baseball.

@moldyandskuller's team spirit

""She opens the lid and rifles through it, pulling out stray t-shirts, two pairs of jeans – she’ll steal some boxers and basketball shorts from his drawers. And when her eyes fall on a piece of shiny gray fabric, she wonders what it’s doing in the box, why it doesn’t have a hanger – its own frame, and she pulls it free from its hold.

She looks at her son. “You like baseball?” But it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah.”

She folds the jersey, places it on top of the pile of clothes she’ll lend to him. “When he gets home, you should ask your – ask Mulder to tell you the story about this,” she says. “it’s a good one.""

Mulder and Scully pack a relationship's worth of history into his Gray's baseball t-shirt, passing it onto Will in sundry parts of his life.

@mchalowitz's (Ao3) endearments, part 5

""He swears to Scully that he’s encouraging her interest, not influencing it. He only concedes to listening to sports radio during many sleepless nights during the first year.  

“Katie Mantle steps up to the plate,” Mulder murmurs. “Even in the pre-season, she is playing a perfect game.” 

Katherine purses her lips at him, slightly lifted at the corners. Her eyes are all determined concentration.

Mulder pitches slow, underhand, and he can’t help but be amazed by his child when the ball flies behind him."" 

Post Finale Mulder bonds with his little girl, naming her and not influencing her to be a baseball star (but also...) He's always proud of his growing girl.

@atths–twice​/ATTHS_TWICE’s (team spirit

Baseball Showdown (Ao3)

""She held her bat and got into her stance, ready to hit the ball. He smiled and threw the ball into his glove a few times.

“The pitcher readies his pitch, the batter holds the bat tight and sure, they are both waiting.”

“Daddy,” she laughed, smiling and happy, tilting her head to the side.

“And the pitcher sees the sign from the catcher,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the net set up behind her, not wanting balls to get lost in the field. “He doesn’t like that one, so he waits for another sign. Oh, he must like that one as he nods and gets ready. And… here’s the pitch!”

He threw the ball underhanded to Faith and she swung, but missed.

“Striiiiiiiike!” Mulder yelled in a deep voice and Faith laughed as she bent to pick up the ball and toss it back as it bounced off the net.""

Mulder lets his Revival daughter win at baseball, celebrating her indoor success and taking her out for ice cream.

Canon Divergent Timeline

Cathey Scully's Ballgame

""Mulder produced 3 tickets for dugout level. He grinned, picking up one of William's hands. "Can't you see it Scully? You, me, and this guy on the big screen that looks over centerfield, while we watch a bunch of guys slap a piece of horsehide with a stick."

"Mulder," Scully sighed in affectionate exasperation. "This is his 'half-birthday' present?"

"Yep." Mulder grinned down at her. Scully rolled her eyes until William called for her attention. She looked down at him to find him grinning a nearly toothless grin at her.

"You too?" she asked, already caving.""

AU-- Mulder drags Scully out of bed for a baseball game to celebrate Will's first six months of life.

Defnotmeyo’s (WBM, Alt. WBM) 

122 Days iv

""Kid’s gonna look good in Yankees gear,” he thinks aloud, and tries to eat his words for a second when her hand stops.

There’s a heavy minute of silence shattered by another whap of the bat, and she slowly resumes ruffling her hand across his chest.

“Bill already bought her a Padres onesie...""

Post Empedocles? Mulder (in this many part miniseries) is warming up to his impending fatherhood. During a baseball game, he's scared he's overstepped by laying claim to the baby's team. Scully smooths the awkward moment. (Love this one.)

Unnamed

""He’s four, the first time it happens.

“Mulder, he’s too young to be slapping horse-hide with a stick.”

“How else you think we’re gonna be able to afford to put this monkey through college?” his Pops lobs back at his Mom.""

AU-- Mulder savvily teaches his son the art of baseball.

An Anon's Unnamed

""Where is he, anyway ? He had a good reason, apparently, but didn’t want to tell her. Scully walks to Will’s bedroom and swears she can smell paint in the hallway.

At this moment, Mulder opens the bedroom door, and she’s face to face with his grey stained tee. She starts speaking when he grabs her shoulders and immediately cuts her : « Wait, wait. Close your eyes, ok ? »

It takes her 1 or 2 seconds to do it, but she obeys, silently praying he didn’t blow up their son’s room.""

AU-- Mulder-- faint of heart-- skips Will's vaccinations; but he made up for it by decorating his son's bedroom in style.

andsocanshe's  Of Pitches and Pondering

""There’s a bag of sports equipment off to the left by the bench, Scully’s leaning against the gate, and Mulder is crouched down on the ground with a toddler in front of him. The five minutes it should have taken to explain the concept of baseball have turned into nearly twenty, but William’s interest in every detail about the game and the park around them is worth it.

He’s at the age of “why’s” and everything is one question followed by another and so on. The questions “Why do we have to go to bed?”, “Why do you go to work and not Daddy, too?”, and his personal favorite, the word “Why?” with no additional context have ruled Scully and Mulder’s day-to-day lives for the past few months. Her mother, psychology, and all the parenting books say that it’s just a phase, one that every child goes through, but Scully often wonders if her son gets this from his father; the constant search for a truthful explanation.""

AU-- Scully observes her sporty Mulders, father and toddler, bonding over Will's first baseball lesson.  

Girlie_girl7’s Day in the Life, A 35

""He holds the bat high making small circles in the air. He stops, stands still, and then swings. An imaginary crack is heard as the invisible ball sails higher and higher matching the pitch of the make believe crowd. Mulder throws his bat down, makes a fist and pumps it in the air. He lopes to the sandbox making sure to tag it then hustles to the end of the pool fence touching an imaginary second base. He jogs to the barbeque grill and taps the propane tank with his foot. He rounds third and begins his trek to home plate tipping his hat and waving to the crowd. He makes one final leap and lands on the flagstone home plate. He is turning to bow to the crowds when he hears, "Da-dee, wha' ya doin'?""

AU-- William is NOT interested in baseball; and accidentally hits Mulder in a very sensitive area.

Polly's (Ao3) Believing in Miracles (Ao3)

""I took my seat as Mulder slid the glove onto Will's left hand. He beamed with fatherly pride as Will punched his fist into the pocket of the mitt a few times before holding it up to his face to inhale the aroma of the well-treated leather.

Lately Will insisted on wearing his mitt when we watched baseball on television, wanting to be prepared in case a foul ball came hurtling out of the set. It didn't surprise me that Mulder hadn't explained to Will that the glove wasn't necessary; it was only surprising that Mulder wasn't wearing one too.""

AU-- It's the World Series: Mulder and Scully and Will celebrate in style-- throwing popcorn, guitar riffing to the anthem, and delving into Mulder's relationship with his father and acting on his hope that, after their day of miracles, he and Scully will be able to pull off another one. (I love this fic so much.)

@contrivedcoincidences6/Spooky66/geektime66’s

Baseball and Horror (Ao3)

""She poked her head out of the kitchen and saw William sitting on the couch wearing a Yankees hat and leaning forward concentrating on the game.

Mulder had his hand on their son’s back and sat back cracking sunflower seeds. She smiled happily at the quaint image before her and decided to move herself and her work to the couch.

William happily moved over when he saw her, “You’re gonna watch?""

AU-- Mulder and Will watch a Cubs game while Scully works on paperwork. She gives in rather quickly.

@blackcoffeeandteardrops‘s (Ao3) Dulcet (Ao3

""After the cake they'd gone outside for party games and a water balloon fight. The other kids and Maggie had all gone home, leaving she and Mulder to clean up the debris in the yard. William was “helping”, but so far seemed more interested in trying to con one of them into giving him more cake. She'd been telling him no and stooping to collect pieces of popped water balloon from the ground when she heard Mulder come up behind her. “Where did you even find that?” she asked, gulping as she realized the object in his hands was a water balloon, still filled and threatening to burst.

“Oh, around,” Mulder replied with a shrug."" 

AU-- William spends his birthday spamming Toy Story and throwing water balloons (that's a sport, right?)

Enough For Now

""Did I ever tell you guys that back in Wyoming I was on the basketball team? I even got the ball in the net from the middle of the court facing the opposite direction,” he said, walking backwards towards the booth. He cocked his head and pointed in Mulder’s direction. “You wanna play?”

In reality, shooting a ball through a tiny hoop on a wall wasn’t much like the actual game of basketball, but Scully leaned her hip against the booth and smiled, watching in amusement as William and Mulder raced to get more balls through the hoops as a timer slowly counted down.""

Part of a great AU series post My Struggle II(?): William and his (new) parents bond over basketball and other family-building activities.

@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/@iwtbscully/BananaChef‘s

The In-Between - Chapter 12

""Good one, Dad,” William calls with a grin, tossing the ball back to his mother. “I thought you were the baseball champion of the house.”

“Oh, come on now, don’t gang up on me.” He lifts the bat and Scully whips the ball at him again. It’s a repeat of the first time.

She goes easy on him the third time, allowing him to get a good bat out of it."" 

AU-- Mulder, Scully, and William have a baseball game in the tall grass growing wild all over the Unremarkable House.

Maidenjedi’s All That Once Was Good

""And yes, it was, for both of them. William hit the ball for awhile, Mulder throwing him rather weak, easy pitches so there could be home runs and the elation, the catharsis that goes with them. Mulder knew why William came out here, after all, even if they never talked about it, never said a word about it out loud.

Mulder felt a bit spooked, though, after awhile. William hit a particularly long ball, what would have been a triple had there been a game going on a real field. And he shouted and threw the bat, ran imaginary bases in celebration. He had every reason - but Mulder heard his own voice in that shout, and felt his own reasons for this long-lost escapism flood his heart. Samantha may be dead, but it didn't matter. She haunted him as often as she could, danced in his thoughts and made him long for a reason to search for her still.

He decided it was his turn at the bat.

William took up the pitcher's post with ease. He tossed the ball in his hand, behind his back, expertly searching for the seams so he could line up his fingers exactly. Mulder laughed at him from the plate; what's taking you so long, meat? William smirked and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm."" 

AU-- Will is re-adopted after his parents died in a fire. Mulder establishes a mutual bond over baseball, astonished that this wonderful boy is his son. (Love this.)

@all-these-ghosts/all_these_ghosts's the son you always had (iv)

""... In real life Will likes the Nats best, but for one weekend a year, he’ll be a Yankees fan for his dad.

His dad, who is practically glowing with excitement. Once a year, they take the train up to New York, stay in a hotel, and see at least one Yankees game. The first year they went the Yankees went on to win the World Series, so now it’s good luck to keep the tradition. Of course, the Yankees haven’t won since, but every year Will’s dad believes.

For his part, Will is mostly excited to be out of school. He likes playing baseball - and he’s actually really good, thanks to all the afternoons spent playing with his dad - but he really likes playing parent-sanctioned hooky.""

AU-- The Mulder family enjoy a baseball game; but their happy mood dips after Will overhears their fears for him and Colonization.

@aloysiavirgata (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)

By Falling In and In

""He comes closer and sits down next to her, his rolled-up sleeve brushing her bare, brown arm. "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"  His worn shirt is soft as flannel, and his long legs appear even longer in the frayed khaki shorts.

"Hey. Where's William? I wanted to show him how to fix the flange on the sink."

Mulder works his toes into the warm sand. "He has no time for plumbing. Jesse finally got the projector working again, so Will and Lusiani went to a movie. Though the pickings are slim. Tonight it's either Little Shop of Horrors or the second Austin Powers."

"Better than the solid month of Star Wars prequels. I noticed Lusiani had been hanging around quite a bit lately. She and William have been playing H-O-R-S-E a lot since you got the basketball hoop back up.""

AU-- Mulder, William, and Scully have a happy life together, trying to balance normalcy with Will's powers and the impending end of the world. Sports is in there, somewhere.

a father’s day ficlet/A Pretty Good Investigator

""Luke brightened. “Did you go to Georgetown?”

“Nah. But the Wizards are a joke, so Georgetown was the next best thing. You a basketball fan?”

“I played in high school,” Luke said. “Point guard, varsity.” He blushed. “Not that there was much competition. I grew up in a really small town. It’s not like I’m gonna play here.”

“That’s great.” Mr. Mulder was smiling now, and it was weird - it transformed his entire face. For some reason it bothered Luke.

“My dad said I had to play a sport, and I’m tall, so,” he said shortly, making sure to emphasize the my dad part.

The smile faded. Good, Luke thought.""

AU-- Revival Will (called Luke) tracks his biological mother down for a "research project", astonishing Scully and actively forging a bond. He slowly strikes up a bond with Mulder, finally inviting him out to see one of his bball games.

Mentions

@greekowl87’s (Ao3) Fic: Day of the Dead

""He was just a big ball of orange polyester fluff. He could roll away if he really wanted to. Of course, he was too young.”

“He might as well have been a basketball. A slam dunk into my heart. Just like his mother.""

On the Run Scully and Mulder observe Mexico's Day of the Dead. She tells him about William's first Halloween; and the two address some of their pain in this sad but beautiful story.

@baronessblixen's (Ao3) Our Son Loves Baseball

""He smiles against his will, thinking of their son. He is out there now doing his own thing, going his own way. Mulder wishes they could be by his side, guide him. It is not meant to be. Not now, anyway. He gets up to use the bathroom. On his way back to the bed he sees something stick out of his pocket: a picture. Mulder picks it up, swallows hard. It’s one of the photographs Scully found earlier. The ones he didn’t dare look at, then. Now he can’t tear his eyes away. There’s William, around eight or nine years old, grinning into the camera. His hands around a baseball bat, his stubborn hair hidden under a cap. The picture before him blurs as tears cloud his vision. One falls down right on the little boy. Mulder wipes it away carefully, afraid that the moment, although frozen in time for forever, might disappear.""

Revival Scully draws closer to Mulder, giving him the baseball photo of Will and deriving comfort from their mutual bittersweet feelings.

@sportsnightnut's (Ao3) she has good taste in dinner options

""He comes around the desk and rests his hand on her belly, and his expression changes immediately. Moments ago, he looked focused, intense. Now, he is practically beaming as he feels her kicking against the palm of his hand. “Our daughter has good taste in dinner options.”

Scully nods. “She would like lots of sour cream, too. And cheese. The full-fat kind.”

“Do you think she’d also like to watch some basketball tonight?” Mulder asks, picking up an umbrella as they approach the door.""

Post Revival Scully gets lost in thoughts while waiting for Mulder to wrap up his work day, marveling at his focus and devotion.

I'm missing my dad a lot right now

""Though her eyes are still open, Caroline yawns.

“I can’t be boring you already, can I? Nah. You don’t even know what boredom is yet. I’ll just keep talking. Here’s the second thing you need to know: in this family, we are Yankees fans. The Red Sox are scum. You are so lucky that you were born a fan of the best team in major league baseball.""

Post Revival Mulder scoops up his newborn daughter, chatting to her about everything and anything. But mostly about his love.

@melforbes/@claup/everydaymsr (Ao3, WBM) hesitation

""though they have a television, the only time it’s ever on is during baseball games, and even then, it simply plays in the background while they go about doing other things. in the kitchen, he keeps basic cookbooks, and recently, he’s been trying to learn recipes, to fry and sauté and simmer in ways he’s never managed to master. hand-stitched curtains, a gift from her mother, billow against a breeze in the living room, and light through glass casts a rainbow along the hardwood floor; the couch is plush and so comfortable that he’s watched scully fall asleep on it more times than he can count....

though he wants to call out in search of her, he stays quiet, leaves the paper on the kitchen table, heads upstairs to see if will’s asleep."" 

AU-- Mulder contemplates his new family's "starting over" house, slowly easing himself into domesticity and out of anxiety while on a morning coffee run. (Such a soft, peaceful atmosphere. Beautiful.)

@xfiles-behind-the-scenes/YouMadeMeAWholePerson's

Watching the Paint Dry

""Scully checked the time as she finished blow-drying her hair, and quickly headed into the kitchen to tell Mulder he could leave for his basketball game. She found him and Will sitting and staring at something on the table. It was unusual for their three year old to be so still, so she approached them cautiously.  

“What’s going on?”  she asked, coming up behind Mulder and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re watching the paint dry.""

AU-- Will wants to watch paint dry in their new house; and Mulder skips his game to spend time with his little tyke.

@we-mad-guys's forgetting the future

""After a short stare down, Mrs. Scully shrugs. “Well, thank you for taking care of him. I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday.”

“It was our pleasure,” Frohike says. “We love the little guy.”

That afternoon and evening, the Scully family and their close friends have to cajole the boy into having a good time. They manage to get him to swim in the kid’s pool, bribe him with sweets, get him into a game of basketball. It all works, for a few minutes. But as soon as an activity’s ended, he’s gone right back into his funk.""

AU-- Skinner, TLG, and the Scully family fill in the blanks for little lonesome Will when his parents have to take extended trips to try to save the world. They join him in time for the 4th; but happiness will always be tempered with sacrifices. (LOVE this.)

all things bright and beautiful

""Scully laughs. “Mulder, I can see the wheels turning in your head. How about you open it? It might be easier to find out what it is that way.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouts, and she nudges him with her shoulder.

Mulder tears the paper off and crumples it into a ball so it doesn’t blow away, and lifts the lid off of the small white box. He stares down at what’s inside.

The tiniest baseball jersey he’s ever seen.""

AU-- IWTB? era Scully surprises Mulder with a pregnancy announcement. Each season gracefully turns while their baby grows. (Love this so much.)

@o6666666's (Ao3) Untitled — 20

""The Earth will burn. After, they will come up from underground.

Will wiggles around until he’s comfortable. “Can you do the story where Mommy hits a baseball all the way into the sky?""

AU-- Will and his parents bunker down during Colonization; and he falls asleep to Mulder telling him about Scully's baseball date.

@scullyphile's (Ao3) Unnamed

""Their son towered over them. He looked very much like Mulder, tall with his father’s distinguished profile. He did, however, have Scully’s red hair and freckles. He looked like he could play basketball, and for a moment Mulder imagined playing basketball with his son. Let’s work on your lay-up, he’d say. Pass me the ball; I’ll show you. The image made him smile. William smiled, too, and Mulder wondered if the boy was hearing his thoughts.

As if in answer, William nodded very slightly and smiled.""

AU-- Monica reunites Mulder and Scully with their son and his parents, ready to forge a healthy dynamic now that he's old enough.

Enjoy!

#txf #Collector's Edition #x-files #xfiles #the x files #mine #xf fanfic #melforbes #we-mad-guys #claup #everydaymsr #YouMadeMeAWholePerson #xfiles-behind-the-scenes #moldyandskuller #blackcoffeeandteardrops #frangipanidownunder #greekowl87 #all-these-ghosts #all_these_ghosts #sportsnightnut #andsocanshe #o666666 #scullyphile #contrivedcoincidences6 #geektime66 #Spooky66 #Polly #anon #mchalowitz #BananaChef

[uwmadarchives]

Mapping LGBTQ+ Spaces through the Years

by Chloe Foor, Student Historian 2022/2024

Hello everyone! Welcome to a little project update from your local Student Historian in Residence. The last two months have been filled with research, data collection, and learning new software programs. I’ve had a great time, and I can’t wait to share what I’ve been doing. 

I spent the first few weeks of October doing more research, scouring both the Archives and the Internet to find more locations significant to LGBTQ+ Madisonians over the years. While in the Archives, I looked at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Folder 1 Subject File, which has materials from the 1990s to the mid-2010s (see University of Wisconsin-Madison Subject Files collection. uac69, Box 75, Folder 10. University of Wisconsin-Madison Archives, Madison, WI.). The most interesting things to me was a document written by Joe Elder on Reflection on the LGBTQ movement on Campus, which he wrote in the aftermath of the 2016 Orlando Nightclub Shooting. It provided some really interesting perspectives on the LGBTQ+ Rights movement in Madison. 

Online, my main source of information is the Wisconsin LGBTQ+ History Project, which I wrote more about in my last blog post. I didn’t realize that they had digitized copies of old guides that listed LGBTQ+ friendly businesses as far back as 1963. It was fascinating to go through those and find the locations that queer people frequented in the past. The most interesting place that I found that was listed was called Apple Island, which I have seen before in archival research, but I didn't know it was in Madison. Apple Island was a community organization created to promote women's culture, and it was reported that 90% of the clientele were lesbians. My favorite part of the research project is finding these lesser-known spaces, and I can’t wait for more people to be able to easily access them through my project! 

Outside of finding new “spaces,” I spent some time filling in the spreadsheet I use to keep track of each location.  For each space, I list the title, address, significance, and years it was active, but sometimes it's hard to find all of that information on the first pass through. Sometimes, I'll just write the title and a short description, and then I can go back through later and fill in the rest. Now, all 165 entries are fully fleshed out!

With the spreadsheet being fully populated, I was ready to import it into ArcGIS, a digital mapping software. It was able to read the spreadsheet into different categories and add every space to a map! In the above image, all of the gray makers are for “Purge,” the blue markers are for “Community,” the orange markers are for “Commercial Area,” the purple markers are for “Healthcare,” the pink markers are for “Media,” the green markers are for “Politics,” and the red markers are for “UW”! If you click on a marker, a pop-up window will display with information about the location, including beginning and end dates as well as a short description.

Here is the pop-up for The Crossing:

In the coming months, I will be working on making a public website to share my research! I also want to host an outreach event in collaboration with the Gender and Sexuality Campus Center and Phi Alpha Theta, the History Honors Society. I’m sure more meetings on the topic will come up in the coming months, and I will make sure to keep you posted! For now, though, that’s all from me!

#uwmadison #uw madison #lgbtqia history #lgbt history #queer history #wisconsin #madison wisconsin

[koishua]

⟡ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟐𝟏𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 ─── park jay

synopsis ─── at seven years old, heather brown finds a friend in jay jeongseong park. at ten years old, she realizes that she found a lifelong partner in him. at eighteen years old, she wishes that she had told him she loved him for the first and last time (she does not—could not, of anything— and it's all because she can't live a life without daniel yeonjun choi).

starring ─── daniel yeonjun choi. heather nabeom brown, a female original character. jay jeongseong park. additionally, beomgyu choi, sunghoon park and heeseung lee.

genre ─── angst, childhood best friends to almost lovers, drama, hurt/comfort.

length ─── 10,019k words (part one)

warnings ─── mentions of hospitals, illnesses and death, some minor scenes depicting familial issues.

author's note ─── (heads up not edited whatsoever we die like newt.) damn. this has been brewing in my docs for exactly two years and i have rewritten it countless times and waz unsatisfied each time and couldn't finish it. im sort of very tired of it just sitting there, so here i am, posting this in a few installments so maybe i can get the motivation to finish depending on your reactions haha. make note that although the romance is still there, it's not as prevalent as the pure bond between the three protagonists. i have so many feelings bottled up in my wee lil heart for this fic because heather, jay and daniel are my babies and i love their bonds so much and i have so so much planned so yeah i hope y'all enjoyed what i have so far and we'll see. maybe you can read the second part next spring lolol. also heather and her thought processes are totally me lol

taglist no. one ─── @junityy @jeonqquk @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @i-luvsang @rae-blogging @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @mark-lees-world @99outros @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @sooblvr @whoe-dis @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @bigsobforskz @soobin-chois @jaysbestie @ni-kiii @jungwonerz @sunoosbestie @95sjcc @ja4hyvn @ant-ton-ya @stealanity @pshflrts @norifilms @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @mosviqu @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @lebrookestore

reblogs and feedback are super appreciated y'all !!

“Hello! My name is Jeongseong Park, but you can call me Jay!” she blinked twice, clutching the hems of the older woman’s skirt. The short-statured younger boy leaned to its side, his head tilting curiously. “Is she shy?”

She chuckled, affectionately running her fingers through her daughter’s soft locks of light hair— well, lighter than his, at least. “She really isn’t most of the time, dear. Maybe she just doesn’t feel well right now.”

She held the chubby hands that tighten around the fabric on her waist, crouching down to the little girl’s height. Her frown seemed evident by the way her brows narrow, big and bright eyes hesitant on meeting her mother. “Come on, Heather. Don’t you think that it’s a little rude to not greet the young man?”

“I don’t want to.” She had a higher voice than Jay was used to, but that was only because he had been hanging around older people all the time, excluding the other boys his teacher had introduced him to in his new class last month. He took slight offense to that statement, however cool his outer kiddy demeanor covered it.

Without wasting a single moment, her mother beats him for a response. “You have to make friends, darling. Don’t you think he seems nice?” 

The unintentional innocence that radiates off her peer takes Heather off guard. He did seem nice enough with his doe-like eyes focused on the tropical mix capri sun, struggling to poke through the plastic with his thin, orange straw. He seemed like he liked to feed pigeons with his bread even if he himself was hungry.

She liked that— he didn’t look like those older kids who always drew on the walls behind school. Heather hated those third graders with a passion, but Jay seemed nice enough. He didn’t wear those black ripped jeans and shirts and he didn’t sport their messy hair. All of those kids did and they were mean towards even the teachers.

She wondered if their clothes and style were the problem, but maybe that would be a little shallow of her. Daniel always told her not to judge anyone by their face, body or clothes, so she would always trust his judgement and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the clothes that made them seem rude.

Daniel was always right, he was probably the only person that told her that, though— he was the nicest person Heather knew of in her six years of life. He told her that she needed to be nice and accepting of everyone. He was older than her, almost ten years old. That was, in her mind, ancient enough to be considered as good as an adult like her mother and father.

She took in a deep breath, reluctantly letting the silk between her fingers go and came out into the open. “Fine,” she mutters underneath her breath. Daniel would be very proud of her, “My name’s Heather. I will be seven years old on the twenty-first of March. I hope we can be good friends.”

The young boy takes a look at her extended hand, thinking about how odd of an introduction this whole thing was. But he accepts the very formal shake of hand anyways, his smile lighting up the room within seconds. “I’ll be seven after you will, then! My birthday is in April.”

Nodding, she leaned back to inspect his attire. He had weird hair, she noticed. “You have weird hair.” Her mother gasped, “Little lady, that is not how you speak to people.” Though her mother reprimanded her, to which she took no caution to, she was a tad bit taken aback by the quiet snort that had escaped the odd boy’s lips just now.

“It’s okay, I hate it, too.” He did? “My dad thinks that all boys have to have this hair at least once in their life, so he made our hairdresser cut it this way. I like those hairs that they show on television, though! The ones where they cut it short until here and leave it long on top.”

Did he mean an undercut, Mrs. Brown scratched her head with wonder. She shook her head, accepting defeat and patted Heather’s shoulders. “I have to attend to my work, Heather, so why don’t you go off with Jay here and play with him a little bit until John’s father comes to pick you up for your music class later this afternoon?”

She didn't like John, nor did she like his father.

“But, I told you that I don’t like classical music. Do I still have to go?” She tugs at the hem of her mother’s crisp white blouse, an unhappy look etched onto her childish features. She supposed she didn’t look all that intimidating, but she liked to believe that she was either way, however intimidating her puffy cheeks and pigtails could be.

“Heather Brown, you will attend these classes for as long as we tell you to. You must grow up to be as refined as possible, understood? Don’t you think that it would be nice to be able to play the violin well? Look, even Jay here takes piano lessons! And I heard from his mother that he is an excellent student.” The six year-old gave the poor fellow a side glance, backtracking on her older thoughts for a moment.

Scratch that, maybe she did dislike him just a little bit now. 

Resigning to her fate, she pulled away, “Okay, I’ll do it for you.” With a satisfied nod, the older woman took her silent leave and Heather watched as the tall doors click closed, leaving her alone with her new acquaintance in a large hall surrounded by glass windows, the bright twelve p.m. sun peeking through the thin grey sun blockers.

“My mom tells me that it’s always good for you to wear sunscreen,” Jay took notice of the way she seemed stuck on the way the beams of light escaped through the cracks. He pulls his miniature version of a duffel bag out of the large cupboard from the back of the office, navigating his way through the leather seats surrounding the oval oak table to accommodate for large meetings.

“Do you want some? I was told that you have to apply it every two hours.” You stare at the uncapped orange bottle, a tiny bit— pea sized, if she had to give it a relatively accurate description of the amount— of the creamy substance already on the back of his palm. 

Why was their first conversation alone about the many effects of under-protection from the harmful rays of the sun, Heather never knew. Though he might have been a little odd, she supposed he wasn’t that bad of a kid. As far as she could see, he was just her mother’s husband’s friend’s son who had a knack for knowing the most random of knowledge that no six year old usually could know of— he also liked dancing, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she liked that small bit of fact.

Heather made her first friend the same age as her at seven years old. She didn’t like his haircut— and neither did he— but he was nice enough to let her draw stars on his cheeks with face paint on the first day he met her.

⟡

For her entire life, all Heather knew of were three things: she hated bullies, she hated music, and she hated the way Jay was having a growth spurt when she was stuck in the same height as before. She was ten years old now— mind you, she was older than him, however much a gap of a single month was worth— and she was now shorter than Jay Park.

“Are you not bored of always staying in this hole?” Heather whispered into his ear, mindful of her volume with all of the overbearing adults in the office. Although, to be fair, this ‘hole’ that she had been talking about was a 25 stories high corporal building made of expensive glass windows and tall ceilings adorned with chandeliers everywhere she looked if she craned her neck just a little— it was the furthest thing from being a mere hole that they had been stuck inside together for the past three years.

Jay nodded, “I asked my dad if we could just stay back at home, but he said no. He thinks that we will be in danger as soon as we are out of their direct sight, even if the staff are there to clean the house.” Being the only children of two business giants did come with its disadvantages, Heather could only cry in silence.

“Surely, they won’t notice if we go out to buy ice cream, right?” she nudged the pondering boy, urging him to respond. The mischief swimming inside those familiar brown eyes was an exciting thing to witness. 

He glanced at the busy adults, all gathered to sit around a table for a long discussion. “We can go to the store next block and then run back here, how about that?” Heather muttered in a low tone, almost too quiet for him to pick it up, but he did.

“Fine, but if they notice and get angry, you’re the one who is responsible, okay?” Jay took her little block of rosin from the intricately made coffee table, storing the object away in her violin case, carefully clasping the two sides shut together to pick it up— when he had grown into the habit of carrying the large black container for her, he didn’t know for sure, but she always left the instrument behind, so it was up to him to tuck the bow and violin away securely, lest Mrs. Brown reprimanded her daughter for protesting against her music lesson again.

Slinking out of the adults’ way was easy of a task, you only had to be quiet and tuck yourself away behind the walls and just keep on moving before someone actually decided to check the odd moving shadows behind the long blinds. What was difficult, however, was pulling off a maneuver like escaping through the front entrance where security guards were always planted.

“Are you ready?” Heather wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking notice of how much wider they seemed to have gotten in the two years she had known him. She had stashed her case away in one of the empty offices on the fourth floor where all of the marketing workers were stationed.

The quiet stalking they had done from the twentieth floor all the way down to the first— all the while still going unnoticed by the hundreds of personnel frantically buzzing through the hallways like bees to their nests— had proven to be the most exhilarating part of this sneaking out ordeal.

She peeked a head through the small gap between the door and its frame, allowing Jay to slide a small head through the same gap as well— they looked like characters from cartoons, comically peering at something they shouldn't with heads stacked above each others’— only to speedily hide back inside the small closet filled with cleaning supplies after seeing her father’s secretary dashing their way with a phone held next to her ear.

Once they heard the click of her low heels fade away into silence, Heather turned the handle of the door to slide it open, gesturing at Jay to follow behind. “Look, Freddy is going away to get a drink now. Let’s make a run for it, quick.” Freddy, the tall and grand security personnel who looked similar to the Five Nights at Freddy’s animatronic bear that had given both of you a good amount of nightmares after deciding to play the game together during one of your many stays here in the company building.

Jay took a hold of her hand, fingers wrapped around her palm with a tight squeeze and they sprinted off towards the automatic sliding doors and bursting into the sunlight. A few onlookers took a brief glance at the two children panting as they rounded the corner of the building, hiding away in the comfort of the crowded sidewalks, the tall structure of the enterprise looming over their small bodies that sped through the roads of Washington D.C.

“That was wicked!” The taller one of the two eased them both into a jog, not noticing the fact that their hands were still intertwined, tightly wrapped around each other— neither did Heather, for that matter, too caught up in the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The cars honking at the ones in front of them did not bother the children at all, not when they were tasting the first bite of freedom they had ever gained. It was a hot summer day and middle school was about to start in a few weeks— dreadful, they knew.

The sad, sob-worthy trek back towards the building was to be expected not even ten minutes after their grand escapade. They had forgotten to bring money to buy their ice creams.

But everything was okay, though. They might not have gotten their cold treats, but their way back inside had gone by as silently as their adventure outside had been. No one had noticed a single thing, save for the one staff member monitoring the security cameras.

Heather had just finished fourth grade when she broke the rules with her best friend for the first time— it felt good. Jay was taller than her now, sure, but she still could put him in a chokehold if she wanted to and that was all that really mattered.

⟡

“Daniel?” The older boy hummed, looking up from his extremely important job that was meticulously peeling bananas to make them smoothies. She settled herself on the tall leather bar stools to watch as the fifteen year old threw in a handful of frozen strawberries from the large freezer inside the sturdy blender with a splash of milk to add to the silky smooth texture of the cold drink.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The solemn look on her face forced him to turn the machine off for a moment. He examined the way the edges of her eyes seemed to redden by the second, glazing over to signify the oncoming wave of salty tears. 

Yeonjun sighed, making his way to her side to cradle her in his arms, leaning her head against his chest to run his hands through her hair. He didn’t say anything even if he heard the muted sniffles or the thick in her voice.

"You know what 영원한 means?" She shook her head, "Well, flower, it means eternally— forever. I promise you— cross my heart and hope to die— that I will be with you until the end of time, okay?" 

Her mother was leaving, but at least Daniel was staying. She wouldn't know what to do if he left, too.

Daniel was funny. He was always the one that had pretended to be an ox to chase her around the empty complex when her father was glued to his chair in his office at the top floor and her mother was occupied by her endless meetings that she never understood what the need was for.

She knew him ever since she could think back in her memories, maybe he was secretly her brother. That would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Or better yet, maybe he was her dad— or her mom. He felt like one anyways, he was always the one that took care of her.

Eleven year old Heather knew that he couldn't be her parent, he was extremely young to be so, so maybe he was either her long lost brother— she didn't understand why her parents never told her, though. That is, if he was actually her older sibling hidden away— or an angel disguised as a fifteen year old middle schooler who liked to teach her to be nice to other kids.

Daniel was nice, he got that from his mother who was working as her own family's cook for the past ten years. Mrs. Choi was always smiling and she never scolded her whenever she snuck into the kitchen to steal all of the freshly baked cookies one by one. 

In all honesty, ten year old Heather really did think that she was the stealthiest living being while crawling her way towards the kitchen island. The woman had always managed to find her slipping away through the sliding doors with a half munched cookie in her hand, melted chocolate smeared all over her lips.

Why did she never get angry? She always gave her a small plate of them after wiping away at her messy face, she always had the kindest eyes as well. Why?

She supposed that was why Daniel was so patient. He was the nicest person Heather knew and she would forever stand by the fact that Daniel Choi would be the most perfect person in all of mankind.

He was nice.

Her mother was leaving, leaving her to her father— was he even her real father? Heather didn't think that she had a single ounce of similarity to him in herself. He had the yellowest hair she had ever seen. Even the pale kid from her old fourth grade didn't have hair as saturated as his.

Heather had smooth brown hair, she was a brunette, and yet he had the curliest of blond hair ever. Her mom, on the other hand, had the silkiest of rich black hair. How did biology work again? What if she wasn't related to any one of them? She had eyes that looked like her mother's milky coffee, very light brown— Mrs. Choi always said that her mother never knew what actual coffee tasted like, always mixing it with soy milk to the point where it was more of a coffee flavoured milk.

Her dad had blue eyes, they were pretty— not to say that her mother's dark eyes were not, but eleven year old Heather was just saying. What if she was adopted? She really needed to pay attention to her biology classes. The short quiz about how genes work was closing up on both Jay and her, but her best friend didn't have anything to worry about anyway.

He had always been smarter than her, but that was fine. She could always be the brawn of the duo— or the cutest one that got all of the attention of the adults to distract them while he slid out of the room to buy a pack of Mentos candy from the nearest vending machine— it was always ten stories below his father's office, but that was fine. Jay was fast— so that they could try to make a bottle of Coke explode out in the garden.

Her thoughts were muddled up yet again, mind running at incredible speeds, remaining unexhausted from hopping on one train to the other. Where was she again? 

Ah, yes, Heather wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeves, noting the way Daniel looked much older than before as he looked down at her with a concerned frown.

She wanted a cat.

“Danny?” 

“Yes, flower?”

“Do you think mother is leaving because she doesn’t like dad anymore?”

“I don’t know, flower. Maybe.”

“Will you ever decide to leave if you don’t like me anymore?”

“Never. I will die before that could ever happen.”

“Okay, Danny. I believe you.”

“Good. Now, let’s drink our smoothies before they get warm.”

⟡

“Blue?” Heather whispers, the vast ceilings of her dark room didn’t scare her like it used to— now that she had him, she didn’t think she would ever be afraid of the empty and lifeless room ever again. The baby dolls her mother had bought for her when she was five years old were still lined up on her window sills all across her walls. The moon wasn’t coming out of its hiding place tonight— it was a rarity these past few months, shrouding her room in the darkest of shadows. 

She wasn’t afraid of the dark, though. She had Jay, he would hold her hand and tell her funny stories that had happened during the day and he would lead her to sit on the velvet stool with him to play a little song for her on the grand piano that her father had made the staff set up. 

Thirteen year old Heather still despised classical music— she wondered why she hadn’t dropped out of her tutoring sessions yet with her mother not around anymore. Perhaps it was a sense of duty towards the older woman, the same way she kept the hideous dolls around. She still lingered around— the ghost of her had never left, she sort of hated it.

She hated a lot of things, Heather had long before accepted the fact that she was just a petty person in general, she hoped that Jay did as well. She abhorred the smell of watermelons, same as the taste of tomatoes and the sound of her violin when she played another piece composed by Sibelius or Paganini— why couldn’t she play whatever she wanted? Where was her freedom?

Strangely enough, though, perched on the cushions of the mahogany stool next to Jay, she didn’t hate the way his fingers softly stroked the keys to lull her to sleep with Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57— or as they liked to call it, Bercy. For Heather, this was Jay in his core.

Park Jay had a beautiful heart— the sweet tone of the melody sounded different when he was the one playing— she loved listening to him. For an older Heather, one that was not a six year old brat anymore, music sounded nice when it was Jay the one playing for her. She liked music only when it was Jay playing for her.

“Yes, Heather?” There he was, calling her by her name again. Her mother always used to call her little lady, her father only used her korean name, 나봄 Nabeom— the only one to do so, oddly enough. Her teachers didn’t call her by her name either, were they scared of it? What reason would they have to call her dear? 

She didn’t have friends, though— she didn’t need them anyway, they were all terrible little liars— Jay was all she needed, all she ever wanted. Jay liked to call her by her name, just like Daniel often did, save for the few endearing terms he used— mostly about flowers, given her name, Heather, but she liked them all. Anything Daniel said to her, she liked them all.

“Heather? Did you want to tell me something?” He played with the thin bracelet wrapped delicately around her wrist, the one he had made for her when he was twelve— admittedly, not that long ago, but enough to wonder about why she hadn’t taken it off yet. The warmth of her hands was like a reminder of her existence to him.

Do angels exist? He didn’t know the answer to this question, not even after the countless visits to the enormous church, but maybe, it was lying right next to him all this time. Maybe angels did exist in the form of a lonely thirteen year old girl who had hugged him tightly after he had won first place in yet another competition— it was memorable for a reason, he had never been hugged for any of his achievements before, big or small.

A clap of thunder stripped her of the bravado she had guised herself behind, she felt her limbs frozen in place, unable to find a good emotional foothold to hide away from the next set of thunder booming behind her glass windows. 

Jay did not say anything else. Instead, he opted to let his closest friend find solace in the way they linked their arms together, pulling the covers over their heads akin to a comforting cocoon. This was enough for Heather— just her and him together, hiding from the stormy weather underneath her thick white blanket. This was all it took to calm his best friend down, to be there for her.

Just hold her hand.

⟡

Niccolo Paganini, her worst nemesis following the likes of Bach and Sibelius, was the sole reason for her months spent cooped up in her room, going over each one of his rigorous pieces with great care. Oh, how she would have liked to tear those stark white and black sheets with the most disgusted of scowls smeared on her face— right in front of her mother’s scrutiny, might she add.

The years and years of practice— as far back as her mind would allow her to remember— lead up to this one moment of battle between her and the devious fourth caprice in c minor she could barely fly over, never mind the twenty fourth. It was vomit worthy if you asked Heather herself.

Despise was the only word she had for the pieces given to her by her instructor. Why did she not give this up yet? Eleven years— nine of them by her mothers’ wishes, two more she had decided to continue on her own— she had spent cooped up either in a damn skyscraper or a closed off mansion to run through the counts by herself.

Why didn’t she just stop playing? Everyone knew how much she loathed her time playing her instrument. Was it to remember and keep a piece of her mother with her?Maybe, but she remembered that they didn’t even have the best of a parent-child relationship in the first place. Was it really because of her mother?

Jay.

Maybe the only reason she had not quit yet was her very own Jay. He always did play beautifully, coaxing her to join him if she so desired to. And how could she ever say no to him? Park Jay, she never knew how much of a hold he held on her, not even years later.

Indeed, maybe she didn’t quit yet just to keep an even ground with her childhood friend. Soon, she would leave her violin case behind forever.

⟡

Heather could not keep even grounds with her childhood friend anymore.

“Are you okay, miss?” A worker asked her with concern evident in his eyes. She blinked up at him, his form all but a blur going in and out of focus as she desperately tried to come to herself and shake the ringing out of her ears.

A few strands of her hair slipped out of her neat bun tied on top of her head. She tried to push herself back up on her feet, swaying as her knees buckled under her weight once again. The suited man from her father’s office stabilized her by her shoulders, leading her to one of the leather seats pushed against the crisp white wall.

“I’m okay, thank you.” Heather really was okay. It was probably just the fatigue growing on her after the hours of practice she had endured, or the fact that she had forgotten about her breakfast on the counter and lunchbox near her bag. She had to be okay, so she would continue believing that it was nothing, that everything was just fine.

He nodded, unconvinced but not prying any further, “If you say so. Be careful, okay?” 

So she would do just that, but alas, even with great care, fate would continue running at its own pace and it would forever continue to break and build lives. It had done it millions of times before and it would do it again and again.

“I can’t believe you keep tripping over nothing, honestly. Watch your own feet, Heather.” Jay ruffled her hair, effectively destroying her long minutes of hard work at putting her hair together that morning. He always liked to do that, she noticed. Jay liked to systematically mess with her hair and then tuck the strands back behind her ear at least once every single day.

Every day, huh. How many days had it been since they had first met? How old was she even? They had probably spent more years together than without each other being by their side, well over six years she’d say, maybe even eight. Funnily enough, she remembered his long hair as a child as if it was just yesterday.

“Watch your hands, Jay, or else I’ll be the one to keep them in check for you.” she deftly slapped his hands away from cupping her cheeks, puffing out her lips like a fish. He only sniggered at the irritated pout on her lips, “How scary, I’m running for my life.”

“Shut up, I’m older than you.” 

“Only by a few months at best. That’s not much. I’m way bigger than you, how about that?” His noticeably taller frame towered over her, if only by a few inches, but he still liked to take every opportunity to bring the difference up to her just to get her riled up time and time again.

It was somehow oddly cute.

“I will break your kneecaps, how about that?” her raised feet, ready to strike at any moment, made him take a cautious step back. “Only if you can catch me, but that’s hard because your legs are way too short to catch up to me, shorty.”

“That is it, Jay. You’re so dead.” Her roar of indignation did the trick to make him burst into a sprint for his life with an excited howl, heart beating in his throat. The sparkling floors make his brand new shoes squeak with every impact on the surface. “Catch me if you can, Heather!”

And without a single glance at the girl chasing him, he darted off into the hallways with various workers scattered throughout, all letting a noise of surprise out when they saw the boy bulldozing his way between them all, “Jay? Be careful!”

Unhearing of the words from the adults’ mouths for the time being, he dashed left into an open meeting office, countless wheeled armchairs set neatly next to each other around a heavy oval table. Heather ran straight inside, fearsome and glowing with determination to tackle him into the next galaxy, “Don’t think you can escape from me, Jay!”

⟡

“Sweet sixteen, Heather.” Jay brings the small cake closer towards her, urging her to make a wish and blow the sixteen individual candles away. He looked older now— he had shoulders that had grown wider by the day and his baby fat was slowly, but surely, melting away to reveal his strong jawline, his roundish features now prominent in their shape without the softness that came with being a child.

He had gotten rid of that god awful haircut as well, giving himself a brand new and welcome look— his undercut dreams had come true and Heather admitted that it suited him extremely well. He always did have that underlying promise of a handsome future, but now it was clearer than ever. Jay had the prettiest smile.

Much to her dismay, she hadn’t gotten around to beat his height, not when he was half a head taller than she already, or was it more than that? She didn’t know and ten years into their friendship, she didn’t really care anymore. The last time she had asked Daniel to measure their height was two years ago— the lines and dates lining up her door frame would gladly serve as proof of that.

Speaking of Daniel— she looked at the much older and much taller twenty year old across the room filled with just the three of them— he was still there. 

Daniel liked to sing, he loved it and he loved to stand in front of hundreds and thousands of people to just let his voice out and perform to his heart’s content. He was good at it as well, she was not envious of his gift, though— not in that way. She was never jealous of the amount of praises and compliments he would get from people all around the world that had come to watch his concerts.

Big people with big names that wanted to take him away to bigger places than the good old Washington D.C.

Heather was never jealous of the love he had always received, even as a young middle schooler. No, she was never ever green with envy— in hindsight, she would always tell others that she was probably the one person proudest of him next to Mrs. Choi. Would that— could that— ever change?

No, absolutely not. Heather still was a strong believer of the extent of Daniel Yeonjun Choi’s perfection. If anything, she was just downright petrified that one day, he would break his promise of five years that he would never leave her behind in this cold world. That new friend of his seemed all too eager to do so.

What was his name again? Ah, yes, Beomgyu Choi. He was a pretty guy— now, that she was jealous of. Daniel was pretty, too, wasn’t he? Pretty people deserved other pretty people. Was she willing to let him go just yet, though? Not a chance.

Maybe she would, maybe she could, she thought as she looked at the sixteen flames illuminating Jay’s pretty face. Why was everyone so pretty? 

“Come on, Heather. Blow it out or else the wax will drip all over the icing!” There it was, his signature whines that would never cease in her presence— which, technically, meant that he complained all day, all night. That was, if the term in her presence was taken literally.

“Happy birthday, flower. You’ve bloomed beautifully.” Jay let out a snort, a quiet ew right after. “Do you have to be so cheesy all the time?” 

The man playfully jumps on the younger one’s back, quick tempered with his siblings— they were not real ones, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, right?— pulling Jay in a chokehold.

Heather had learned that move from him years ago, not even Jay had been around at the time. Heather was five years old when Daniel had come up from behind her and put her head between his arm and torso, lightly giving it a squeeze. Enraged, she demanded he teach her how to do it. An hour later, mrs. Choi would enter the room to find her eldest son being choked out by a five year old little girl as he lay limp on the marble floors.

"Stop flailing around, I'm blowing it out now." The two separated themselves from each other, eagerly waiting for the dessert to be cut into slices for them to enjoy. Deliberately, she gave the older male a larger piece, finding joy in the way her two friends started bickering again over the unfairness of it all. She let them fight it out for a while before giving Jay a smaller second slice to even things out.

“You’re an adult, Daniel. I think it’s embarrassing for you to fight me like this.” Jay quipped from Heather’s bed, stuffing his face with the smooth icing. The girl eyed the cream in disgust, nibbling on the sponges cake instead. She’d never understand why bakeries preferred a seven to three ratio of cream to cake.

“I’m not technically an adult yet. I live with my mom.” Daniel retorted from his seated position on the carpet. Heather sat next to him as always, succumbing to the natural gravitational pull whenever the older male was around. She always felt the safest when next to him, then Jay, but she’d never tell him that. Who knows how he would react if he heard it from her own mouth that she liked him just as much as Daniel. He would never let her hear the end of it.

Sixteen year old Heather finally quit music. She cut it out of her life, the motion done as quickly and soundlessly as her mother had a few years ago, leaving her behind forever as she ran back to Korea. Heather wondered where she’d be in life right now if she didn’t have a Jay Park or Daniel Choi with her.

Lost, probably.

It’s March 21st, Heather turned sixteen at last, safe and sound with Daniel right next to her as she smiled at her best friend sitting on her bed in front of her.

⟡

The next morning, she made her way to wash her face, slowly slinking out of her soft bed and trying not to wake up the boy snoring next to her. She’d slid a pillow under his arm to replace her. Planting her feet on the floor, however, did not come to her as easily as before. Almost instantaneously, her knees buckled beneath her, knocking the breath out of her lungs as she groaned in pain after the impact on her palm registered. She’d reached out blindly, using her hand to brace her body.

“Heather?” The ruckus woke up an exhausted Jay, who still looked incomparably better than her even with an early morning puffy face. He smoothly kicked the blanket off of his body to help the newly turned sixteen year old back on the bed.

“Hey,” brushing away the few strands of hair that had escaped the braid Daniel had put it into the night before, he held her arm, concern etched all across his face, “Are you okay?”

“Damn it.” The brunet winced at the few tears that escaped Heather’s eyes, stomach dropping at her sniffles. She covered her face with her palm, the other clutching the fabric of her sweatpants. 

“This sucks.”

He tucked her in his chest, running his fingers through her hair and waiting till she calmed down from her abrupt meltdown. Looking at her tightened fist, he gathered her tighter in his arms, putting a warm hand over hers, slowly making her release her clothes. “You’re okay, don’t worry.”

Heather sniffled, trying to regain a steady breathing and pulling in deep breaths to soothe her hiccups. Jay kept smoothing a hand through her soft strands, patiently waiting. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”

Jay shook his head, pressing a kiss on her temple, “Why apologize?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, wiping away the last drop of tear that slid down her cheek, “I just couldn’t hold it in. It didn’t even hurt. I guess I just felt disappointed.”

Jay hummed in understanding, bringing the pad of his thumb to swipe away the moisture around her eyes, “It can happen sometimes, I get it. Come, let’s wash up your face. You look prettier when you don’t have snot all over your face.”

The comment made her chuckle, giving his shoulder a friendly punch, “You don’t tell a girl that she’s ugly, especially when she’s crying her soul out. That’s super rude.”

“Am I supposed to lie, then?” Jay retorted, taking Heather gently by her arm and leading her carefully to the bathroom on the other side of the large space. Truthfully, Heather could never be ugly, not in his eyes at least. No matter how much he liked to tease her about the minor flaws in her appearance here and there, nothing ever seemed less than perfect in his eyes when it came to his closest friend.

Close to two years ago, Jay realized that Heather Brown was prettier than the angels his mother told him all about when he’d been younger. The purest beings, breathtaking and beautiful, those were traits Heather held as well. 

Even with eyes bloodshot, nose running a river and cheeks flushed from exertion, she was prettier than ever. 

“I think we should tell uncle about what happened.” He quipped from behind as Heather patted her face dry. He was leaning against the doorframe, frowning at something she couldn’t see on the floor.

“It’s getting too frequent. You literally fell over while doing nothing yesterday too.”

Heather stayed silent, assessing his words, “It’s getting worse, Heather. I’m just worried about you, your dad too.”

So many words were left unsaid, they both knew that, but with Heather’s insistence on keeping the progression of her disease a secret from her already busy father, Jay swallowed back his thoughts of concern and let her be.

For how long he’d let her live a life of lies, however, he didn’t know. Three years ago, their life had turned upside down with the few words of a man in a crisp white coat and this was the only way he could keep Heather Brown happy.

Just stay quiet, and let her be. He couldn’t possibly shoulder the heavy burden of being the one who insisted she stay locked inside a room surrounded by white walls, unwilling to be the one who ripped her away from her happiness. For now, he’d just let her be and do as she said.

⟡

Winter came quicker than expected that year, heavy clouds creeping over the lifeless buildings of Washington D.C.

Heather never expected her last Christmas break before she graduated high school to be spent cooped up inside a room that made her feel lonelier than her own one did whenever she was left to her own. The only thing accompanying her throughout her days was the large, framed picture of lilacs on the wall to her adjacent, the monotonous monitor to her side, a leather white couch next to the tall windows and the nurses who’d occasionally come and go.

Daniel Choi was busy these days, too. She hadn’t seen the older male in two weeks, quite the record for someone who’d talk to him face to face almost every few days. If not face to face, then at least on the phone where he’d tell her all about his day. He would always complain about something his friends had done, affectionately calling Beomgyu an annoying gum that was relentlessly stuck to him.

She heard that name a lot more often since the first time he’d introduced him to her almost a few years ago. Beomgyu this, Beomgyu that, Beomgyu here, Beomgyu there. It seemed like he lived and breathed by that name, not that Heather was jealous at all.

It was nice seeing Daniel befriend someone closer to his age. What was not nice was the fact that she felt like he was slowly drifting away. He wouldn’t pick up her calls when she missed his comforting voice, only answering hours later at times when even she wasn’t awake.

Daniel felt so far away, more so than he’d ever felt like.

What happened to her Daniel who’d nag her to eat her meals on time, scolding her for not drinking enough water? Where was he, the one who’d drive away all of her worries with a single smile, a lame joke? With a sinking feeling in her gut, Heather realized that Choi Beomgyu was stealing the most perfect human being in this world from her.

The thought brought a certain heaviness in her chest, the walls enclosing in on her. Her hands trembled, heart racing inside her ribs and her lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. Fear had her in a merciless clutch as she curled into a fetal position, cupping her hands over her ears, not even taking the presence of the nurse next to her in.

Daniel was leaving her and it was all Choi Beomgyu’s fault.

⟡

Nighttime crept over the sky, for once the moon reflecting light over those on the streets, illuminating the city in a soft glow. 

Heather felt better, good enough to wander down the halls of the large hospital in hopes of finding herself some entertainment, having already slept the day away. Energized for the night, she skipped down the empty corridors, careful to avoid any workers who might recognize the dreadful hospital clothing she’d been forced to put on when she first arrived last week.

“Snacks. I need snacks, lots and lots of them in fact.” She muttered at no one in particular, tracing an unending line on the wall as she went, taking a ninety degree turn to the right after confirming that her chances of getting caught were minimal. 

The automated machine stood proudly at the other corner of the corridor, as she found out after an unnecessarily lengthy trip around the quiet floor, lost in the maze while trying to follow a random blue line that led her to nowhere in particular, not that she knew of. Snickers or KitKat? She weighed her choices, fishing out a few coins out of her frankly quite shallow pocket.

And then she saw black.

Rubbing her forehead in defeat, she pushed herself up to sit on her knees, half having the mind to let out a string of less than pleasant cuss words as she massaged the area that throbbed. Her momentary blackout had led her to collapse right before the vending machine.

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching out to wipe away the small droplets of red with her sleeve. She hoped her nose didn’t look too bad for wear, “Great, just great.”

With a grunt, she made an effort to stretch her legs out to stand. That’s odd, wait, giving up on trying to hold a hand over her nose, she put out both arms and flexed, wondering why her legs didn’t seem to be functioning properly. I can’t feel anything, she tried reaching out to grab the handle of the sitting bank just an arm’s length away.

Her fingers strained as she clawed the air, hoping to get a grip on the metal bar. Tears of frustration welled up behind her eyelids while she dragged her limp feet with the help of her upper body, strength quickly dwindling as she had to handle all of her body weight. This cannot be happening, not now, she begged for a semblance of power to return to her muscles.

Please, a stray tear slid down her chin as anger rose within her. “Move already.” She slammed a closed fist over her incapacitated limbs. What a joke, cursed to a life of being a burden to everyone around her. “Just do as I say, why won’t you?”

Cursing, she harshly bit down on her lip, making a grand effort to slide her body and carry herself over to sit on the metal bench. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the adrenaline that had allowed her to will herself up slowly ebbing away. She laughed, a reaction forced out of her as she laughed and laughed.

She didn’t feel the traitorous tears trailing down the side of her face for the nth time that week, she didn’t recognize anyone’s voice as people started approaching her. Heather laughed at the injustice of it all, wondering what she had done wrong to go through and struggle with something most people did on a minutely basis. 

She laughed, bitter and tired of everything. 

Nurse Willows sat her on a wheelchair, a kind smile ever so present on her face despite the late hour and exhaustion probably wearing her down from the long day of hard work. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

She liked Ms. Willows too, something about her giving her the same feeling of comfort that came with Mrs. Choi, Daniel’s mother and her cook. She had traces of age where her smile creased, but she still looked youthful, lively. She was just as kind as Mrs. Choi as well, she’d rejoiced at having someone nice to talk to when she would inevitably grow bored sitting around on her stiff bed. Heather barely saw her around after their first encounter, though.

Tonight was the second time she got to interact with Ms. Willows. Albeit the less than pleasant conditions, Heather fell back asleep on her way to her room as the older woman pushed her forward, pleased that it was Ms. Willows and not anybody else.

Tomorrow would be a better day, she hoped. It was Christmas after all.

⟡

Finding a snoring Jay next to her the next morning was the best thing that she could have ever asked for. 

He stirred in his sleep as she watched in awe, taking in his peaceful face like she always did. It had been months since she’d properly gotten to see him this close. She slowly smoothed over his cheek with the back of her fingers, barely hovering over his skin. Despite her best efforts at being subtle, his eyes fluttered awake anyways.

The sunlight was nowhere to be found at ten thirty-four am, right when Jay found himself staring into the eyes of his best friend. The room was dim with the only light coming from the hallway beneath her closed door. With what little brightness came in through the open blinds, shades of blue covering the sky behind the large glass panels, he took in her tired features.

Brown eyes never looked as good on him as they did on Heather Brown. Something about the way she looked at him felt like home, though to be fair, everything she did felt like home to him. There was no one in his life as clearly defined in who they were as Heather. His father, sure, along with his mother, but the person he’d wholeheartedly bellow the name of into the wind when asked who felt like home to him, was his one and only Heather, the girl peering right at him through the curtain of her lashes like he was her everything.

Like he was her everything.

And he was, to a certain extent. Heather thought back on the past ten entire years of her life, recounting the times Jay Park had proven time and time again that he’d always be the one person she could call her everything.

“You’re up.” Jay whispered, tracing small circles on her back with the hand he’d slung over her waist. He rejoiced in the way she fiddled in her position, feeling ticklish by his subtle pokes here and there where he knew she felt the most tickled by. Giggling at his onslaught, she quickly snatched his soft cheeks with her fingers and stretched the skin wide in an awkward grin.

Moving his cheeks around and bringing her hands together to make his lips puff out like a fish, she replied, “Who said you could invade my bed like this? It’s probably against the rules.”

Despite his hammering chest, he pulled her closer to himself, “It’s fine.” He could barely utter the few words through his squished face. “You wanna go out?”

Blinking, she strained her neck to spot the folded up wheelchair next to her small closet. Jay pushed himself to rest on his elbow, “It’s totally okay if you don’t feel like it, I just thought it’d be nice to see the snow.”

“It’s okay, let’s go. Help me up.” She stretched her arms forward, making a give me motion and pointed at the transport device she swallowed her pride and sat on with his help. “Push me as fast as you can.”

“We didn’t even notify the nurse or anything. You wait for like, a second, and I’ll be back in a minute.” After setting her down, he faced his body towards the door, rubbing the sleep quickly out of his eyes. He stopped when a hand pulled him back.

“Wait, why are you here anyways?”

“What do you mean?” The boy feigned innocence, half heartedly pulling his arm away from her loose grip. Heather steeled her expression, “I swear, Jay, if you pulled some funny business, then I’m sending you right back.”

It was at the beginning of year ten of school when Jay had decided he wanted to dance professionally. It was also in tenth grade that he’d finally convinced his father to let him audition, nearly spending the entire year coming up plans with her for the older man to finally cave in and let him quit the orchestra.

Heather had watched him dance for hours and hours on end, audition and then fail twice in a row before getting accepted into a small group. She had watched him pour his blood, sweat and tears throughout the past two years, every moment that would lead up to the big event not even a month away now.

There was no way he’d ditched going to the practice sessions just to take her out for something as mundane as a walk. “I’m actually gonna call uncle, Jay. I know how important the performance is, you shouldn’t be blowing off Sunghoon like that.”

“Chill,” He chuckled, flicking a finger over the bridge of her nose, “The regular meet up was postponed to tomorrow, because it’s a holiday and people have to be at home, exchange gifts and all of that jazz. The studio is closed for the day.”

“It better be.”

⟡

“I don’t have a gift for you.” Heather crossed her arms, looking at the small box resting on her lap. It wasn’t any bigger than the size of her palm, neatly wrapped with a white polka dotted paper, contrasting with the red background and glittering green ribbon tied around it in a typical festive fashion.

“I don’t need one.” He replied, sitting on the comfortable sofa across her as Heather fiddled with the small box. “Go on, open it.”

With great care, she unfolded the colorful wrap. “I’m gonna flip if it’s what I think it is.” She commented offhandedly, trying to cover up the glee seeping out of her voice. The velvet box felt familiar to touch, something she’d held in her hands once before, but never got around to bring it home with her.

“Oh, you bet it is.” Jay hopped off of the couch, flipping on the switch to her room. “I didn’t have the time to do anything special this year, but I know how obsessed you are with this, so yeah, sorry for the last minute surprise.”

“Want me to put it on for you?” Heather nodded at his offer, moving her hair to the side to allow him to clasp the dainty chain around her neck, the small pendant resting pretty on her décolleté. 

“There you go,” Jay stepped back to rake his eyes over her appearance, “You look very pretty.”

And indeed she was. Jay, for all of his life, prided himself in the fact that he had never once lied to anyone about anything. He wore his heart on his sleeves and kept his words simple and honest, truthful in everything he said or did. At times, his frank words hurt those who hadn’t heard what they wanted to from him, driving quite a few people away with the bluntness in his words. 

Everyone wanted to hear pretty white lies from him, turning their backs once they didn’t receive what they thought they would no matter how not unkind his delivery was. Honesty and sincerity, that’s what Jay prided himself in the most. Jay never lied, Heather knew that better than anyone else.

And so whenever he called her pretty, she felt like the most beautiful being in the world. If the words came from him, she’d take them to the bottom of her heart and encase it in a fragile glass container, cherishing it for a long, long time, because it was Jay’s words and Jay never lied.

For that night, she would truly feel beautiful, because he made her believe so.

⟡

July 21st only a couple of years ago, a summer day she remembered with every detail. Daniel had graduated high school just a little while ago and had decided to stay around, continue to make music on his own with his small group of friends, working small part time jobs in his other free time.

Heather had nothing to do that day with Jay away with his father on a trip and her own dad as busy with his business as always. It was Daniel who’d pulled her out of staying cooped up in her room all day. He’d dragged her out of her lonesome and taken her to a small ice cream shop next to the skatepark where kids mostly around her age usually hung out.

“You should try this mint chocolate one.” He’d begged her to try the minty flavored ice cream, to which she’d adamantly refused, knowing how he was aware that she hated it all the way to the depths of hell. Daniel could be annoying like that from time to time whenever he decided to shed his role of the ever loving, wise older brother.

“Suit yourself.” He’d replied with a sulk, typical Daniel fashion.

The heat rose from the asphalt, visible in the way it distorted the view of the park in front of the shop. She wondered if an egg would cook if she dropped it on the ground. It sure seemed like it was a possibility. Just like everything else however, she threw that thought behind, opting to enjoy the moment and her very delicious, very non-mint-chocolate ice cream.

The older male jumped right into step with her as they wandered out into the street, mindlessly wandering through the crowd of families and friends. He had an arm slung over her shoulder, chattering away about his plans for the next week. “You know what would be nice?” He piped up, nibbling on the cone in his right hand.

Heather didn’t reply, tilting her head to lock eyes with him as though she was questioning him. “What if we go on a little trip to the amusement park with Jay this Saturday? It’s been a while since we all went out together.”

She knew what he meant, the underlying message in between the lines. Still, she decided to ignore the unpleasant feeling, dropping her faux displeasure at him to contemplate on the suggestion. It had been a while since they’d had fun together, all three of them. “I’ll have to ask my father for permission, though.”

In a typical Daniel fashion, his lips curled into a lopsided smile, “If there’s anything I know about Mr. Brown after all these years, it’s that he won’t say no if I’m there to be your babysitter.”

“First of all, I don’t need a babysitter, much less someone like you.” Heather jeered at the older boy. “And secondly, remember that one time you almost let me drop from the fifty-first floor’s window when I was eight? And that one time you almost slipped down the wet stairs and dragged me down with you last year? I’d hardly consider you a capable sitter.”

She didn’t mention the time he’d gently held her while she mourned her mother’s departure, or when he’d patched her knees up when she’d fallen down from a tree branch while she and Jay were playing hide and seek at the park, or when Daniel had built them the biggest blanket fort the two younger ones had ever seen and have a movie night just because they’d both gotten great grades in their exam, or the time when he’d carried her on his shoulders because she couldn’t see the artist’s perform at the local music festival, or the time he’d trimmed her hair for her after she’d very unsuccessfully tried to give herself a new haircut.

She didn’t need to mention any of those instances where he’d been the angel taking care of her because he knew. Through her vulnerability with the boy she considered to be family, her constant little praises she liked to shower him with, her pulled back play-punches when he’d annoy her. Daniel knew that she saw him as the one that could do no real wrong, that he was her ever-loving and caring guardian.

Daniel knew, so when she said he wasn’t capable, he didn’t take the words to heart. He was so much more than just capable. Heather is an easy person for him to see through despite how others claimed the contrary.

Daniel knew that he was her everything, though it would be him in the end that would shatter her world.

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#enhypennetwork #enhypen x female reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay #enhypen angst #enhypen jay imagines #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #txt angst #txt fluff #enhypen fluff

[hislittleraincloud]

Sigh.

I had to explain why Afterburn hasn't been finished yet, so I'll repeat part of how I responded to this really awesome (I mean that...I love all my fans 😭) fan, but here with harsher lang because I have hate for this fucking bitch who hasn't even given me a "Thank you" for anything and has just fucking ghosted me after she got out the last time:

1. The Junkie Neighbor and The Cat. Her fucking going in and out of rehab fucked up my creative process because I had to take care of the cat and her apartment every night for long stretches at a time. I've posted pics of kitty, and will post the last one I think I'll ever take with him (😭😭😭😭😭 I raised him from a kitten) under the cut. This bitch was supposed to be my friend, but she has fucking...problems with herself and her personality disorder. I have zero idea why she hasn't responded and I don't even know where the fuck she is. So if she's reading (I think she knows of this blog), the YOU'RE FUCKING WELCOME, BITCH. And what you're doing right now is fucked up.

2. My 17yo dog is on his last legs. I've written how he's had seizures, but I haven't written how his barking after a seizure can get me a noise complaint from my shitty building manager, so that shit makes me anxious. I hand feed him, I help him get water the same way Peter Griffin helped Old Brian in that cutaway:

I wrap my boy's pills in gummies, not PB and beef 💀

LOL Except I don't have to push his tongue into the water like that. And I have to do it every...day...when he's awake. This is a disruption in my creative process too, because I REALLY wanted to pass out around 4PM today to be able to map and write all night but couldn't because he just would not settle. Dogs with dementia are like people with dementia, but less propensity towards violence when you try to help them (at least my old dogs are...they're small dogs and don't have any teeth left).

I didn't even mention my own health problems, in my explanation about how Afterburn's creation got messed. I've got Stage 4 CKD (kidney disease) and only 1 working kidney (lost the other to cancer in 2016). My kidney issues began when I was in France in 1986 and they failed on me because I ended up having HSP (and the strange nature of HSP and the possibility of certain vaccinations bringing on HSP in a few people has left me practically defenseless against COVID). Another HSP flare up would literally kill me (because there would likely be kidney involvement, and since I only have one left...the first time was Hell on Earth, I was pissing and shitting blood — stool is black when that happens...and my urine was bright red — and my parents thought I was gonna die), but I've been masking since January 2020 and have no intention of unmasking.

Having one kidney leaves me utterly exhausted to do any simple thing, so most of my energy goes to taking care of my boy/my girls. I'm on BP meds, PTSD meds, and pain meds (for chronic pain; I suffered through childhood arthritis that just ended up continuing into my adulthood), and when the Big Pharma pain meds don't work, I use cannabis. I don't really talk about or complain about it as explicitly as I am now bc it's tiring to explain over and over again why I'm a useless sack of 💩. I worked a "normal job" until I couldn't anymore; I am physically disabled.

Besides my seniors, the one other bright spot in my life is the baby. I have an Ask that wants more pics of her (I got it shortly after I posted her "Lookit me, I'm Jenna Ortega 🤓🤓🤓" glasses pic LOL), and I was going to do a whole post on her but I'll just slip a pic or two under the cut with the others.

I'll stop yapping and do that. Dogs under the cut.

This is my life now:

And before anyone gets on me about "HE NEEDS WET FOOD!", he gets wet food, but he likes his dry food. I try to spray it with water for a bit of moisture, but if I spray it too much, he won't eat it.

The orange on his face is pasta sauce (he likes licking cans...and he gets what he wants).🫠 It's sometimes hard to clean. He is always wearing pajamas (he has 6 different ones) and his elephant hoodie (he's got 3 of the same, so I can switch them out). Weird story but...one time several years ago I got him a simple elephant costume (the hood had the trunk, the body was thin jersey material but it also had 4 plush legs and a tail 🤣) and he LOVED it so much that he basically wore it out. He would get sad when it wasn't on him and excited when I would hold it up after it dried/after washing. He's fkn weird, okay? So I looked online to see if I could find another one but instead found the elephant hoodie. It doesn't have legs or a tail, but it has the trunk and it's soft and he likes it as well. Having him clothed really helps when I need to hoist him up onto the couch or help him drink. He doesn't have loose skin and even if he did, I wouldn't want to grab onto skin. It's my job to make him as comfortable as possible, not to hurt him.

Now this little (17yo as well) old lady here:

I inherited her from a nasty (racist) old bat who died right before the pandemic. Bat had CKD as well, but she went into kidney failure at some point after she wouldn't listen to me about fixing her diet (she had uncontrolled diabetes too...her blood sugar was over 400 at one point when I was visiting her at her physical rehab with the dog 😨).

She is blind, but even before she went blind, she was freaky about being handled when she didn't used to be. She can't walk outside because she gets disoriented, so she uses the pee pad set up I have for the seniors. I do love her like my own, as she is my own now (my last screenplay actually features a dog just like her). She was part of the same dog group as my boy in the rescue that I worked at...my other boy from the same rescue passed in 2021 and devastated me. His passing led me to find this little baby here:

She only wears jammies when it's cold in here.

I had never gotten a puppy before, but I was in a really dark place when my other boy died. I was seriously contemplating taking myself out too (God knows I have enough drugs here to do so). But I channeled my grief into cleaning up this place and finding another pomchi/chion (we were never sure what he was, but I think he might've been part Papillon because of his ears/fur/tail)...and I found one, albeit chocolate instead of white. I've had her since she was 8 weeks and a day, and thank the gods that she's the sweetest and pretty low maintenance. I raised her on Harry Potter 1 and 2 and Victoria Stilwell videos, and she somehow picked up what good behavior is vs. bad behavior from the Stilwell videos 😶. She used to howl at Harry Potter during the Neville scenes and the Quidditch matches (and the Mandrakes scene). I didn't want to raise her on Potter, but I chose it because it was kid's thing and as soon as I put it on her eyes were glued to the TV. She also likes Stranger Things and is okay with Wednesday. She's spoiled af, so she's got toys from all of those (she ate off the legs of her fave Harry Potter plush, adores her Eleven squeaky toy, and loves her Enid plush...yes, the Kid Robot one that came in a set with Wednesday and Bianca, the latter of which I kept for myself because it's fkn Bianca).

Anyway. That's what's up with me. I have no one here to help me anymore, so it's just me and the dogs. If I fkn die, no one will find my body for days unless one of the dogs starts barking, and the baby doesn't normally bark (she wheeks like a guinea pig). I will likely ask one of the ficwives if they would be willing to at least know my notes for Afterburn in case something does happen to me. They know the general trajectory of the story for Afterburn 2, so they already know what happens with Wenovan, but they don't know the details of the whole (the Goodmen, Joseph Crackstone & Goody, OG Nightshades (Morticia, Gomez, Larissa, Chancellor, Vincent, Mina (the Twins' mother), Francoise, Osamu (Yoko's father), the Petropoluses, and Grandmama Addams (the oldest living "local" Nightshade)) story. I've yet to decide on a few other Elder Nightshades, but I've got ideas. The Nightshades and Wednesday's power as one are a BIG focus of Afterburn 2, so maybe now you get my irritance at the fkn show deleting 2/3 of them.

My boy's sleeping now so I guess I ought to sleep too, otherwise he'll wake up when I'm about to sleep and THAT fucks me up even more.

ETA: Forgot the pic of the cat.

My buddy, Prince (the name he was given when he was born, so ✨I✨ kept it, but his weirdo mom named him "Tennessee Tuxedo"). Wow, Tennessee... I just now realized that.... To me he will always be Prince Ovaltine of Meowcatsia, a cat who adored playing tag with me. 💔💔💔💔💔

#personal #rl shit #satisfying afterburn #my writing #my work #my babies #tor #tor talks #wednesday #wednesday addams #sheriff galpin #black bubblegum #wenovan #i swear that i'm not GRRMing this story lol #dogs #old dogs #dog pics #dog photos #long post

[wormytoast]

charts for 2.2! chart for 2.1 here

this post is leak free! (although i do talk about leaks on this blog, all tagged)

Trailblazer will not be considered in these stats because they are essentially a null character.

TYPES

Fire: 6

Ice: 8

Lightning: 7

Wind: 6

Physical: 8

Quantum: 7

Imaginary: 6 (it looks like tumblr has changed its text colors so imaginary is orange for now 😭)

Physical is now tied for first place with ice thanks to the introduction of Robin and Boothill. Neither units fulfilled any new type-path combinations.

PATHS

Destruction: 8

Erudition: 6

The Hunt: 7

Harmony: 8

Nihility: 9

Preservation: 4

Abundance: 6

Harmony is now inching closer to the top, tying for second place with Destruction (8 units each) and just one unit less than the top path of Nihility (9 units). We finally got a new Hunt unit with Boothill! I also made a post about the current state of the Hunt unit archetype here (disclaimer this was before leaks released). It's not great but I think it sums up my feelings on the path and how I think it should progress.

RARITY

Limited 5-Star: 21

Standard 5-Star: 7; Overall 5-Star: 28

4-Star: 21

Because we did not receive a new 4-star, the amount of limited 5-stars has reached the same number of units in this patch (2.2) rather than 2.3, which is when the amount of limited 5-stars would've overtaken the amount of 4-stars if Hoyo had stuck to their pattern of 2 limited 5-stars and 1 4-star per patch.

OVERLAP

There are now 7 overlaps of unit path/type combinations. Neither Robin nor Boothill are new type/path combinations.

Physical/Harmony- Hanya & Robin

Physical/The Hunt- Sushang & Boothill

Ice/Preservation- March 7th & Gepard

Ice/Destruction- Jingliu & Misha

Lightning/Erudition- Serval & Jing Yuan

Lightning/Nihility- Kafka & Acheron

Wind/Nihility- Sampo & Black Swan

Unfulfilled combinations:

Erudition- Wind & Imaginary

The Hunt- Lightning

Preservation- Fire, Wind, Lightning, & Physical

Abundance- Ice

MODELS

F child: 2

F short: 9

F med: 10

F tall: 10

M short: 3

M med: 4

M tall: 10

No surprise here. F med is now tied with F tall for most populous F model while M tall has gained another member of their legion. Our poor short kings... (and still no F child since launch but what's new)

Going to try to not repeat myself, but notable statistics: the Harmony path and the Quantum type are completely comprised of only women. The Imaginary type is comprised entirely of men except for Yukong. As of right now, male Abundance units are offensive sustains (scale on atk%, Break%, and have AoE ults) compared to the female Abundance units who all scale off hp%. I think these observations actually provide a pretty interesting look into Hoyo's view of their female characters versus their male ones but that would become a pretty large tangent I think.

OVERALL + OTHER THOUGHTS

tbh this seems like a pretty straightforward patch. there isn't a lot to talk about that I haven't already said in previous posts

we're due for an Erudition unit since there hasn't been a new Erudition unit since 1.5 (Argenti). not sure which type since we've gotten pretty decent type coverage the past few patches. Wind and Imaginary are the obvious choices, but Fire, Ice, and Quantum are all type-path combos from launch so I wouldn't put it past the devs to use those as well. The only ones we can be sure WON'T be used are Lightning and Physical since those are the only two types that have been used for limited 5-stars.

The units for 2.3 could be anything, really. I wouldn't put it past them to introduce another Nihility or Destruction unit since they seem very keen on doing so. I also wouldn't completely rule out two dps limited 5-star units in a single patch since, while not common, has happened before.

thanks for reading til this far! its completely free labor lol

#hsr #honkai star rail

[ira-407]

Why I Don’t “Light it Up Gold”

You may be a bit confused by the last word in this title-wouldn’t this kind of blog post usually be called “Why I Don’t ‘Light it Up Blue”? I obviously don’t do that either, but I also have issues with the color gold being used in the context of autism. To start, a history lesson.

Gold for autism was an idea that goes as far back as the  2000s. The earliest instance I’ve found of Au is 2004. I know this thanks to the Fandom Rescue Project on Web Archive, who preserved tons of Yahoo Groups forums before Yahoo shut the feature down permanently. A lot of early autistic organizing was done via Yahoo Groups, among other platforms. My source supplied me with more than six hundred megabytes of data related to autism and disability-focused groups. In one of them, AutAdvo, there was discussion of an “Autistic Underground”, which had the abbreviation Au. It has the Latin phrases “perservateur pa Excellence”, and “Aut víam inveníam aut faciam”. Those translate to “persevering excellence” and “I will find a way or make one”. A user named Janet Norman-Bain, whose alias was “Jypsy” talked about Au also being the symbol for gold, and using it as an abbreviation as they “mine info”. She also suggested that “years from now we’ll be the select few who know what it *really* means”. It appears as if they were right, eighteen years later. I do not believe this is directly related to the Autistic Union, often symbolized with Âû, nor do I think it was something their creators knew about and deliberately built off of. There was talk of autism and gold separately a few years later in a separate Yahoo Group list, so it’s entirely possible that many different people have thought the same thing about linking autism to gold without necessarily knowing other people had the same idea before them. 

Another thing from early Neurodiversity history that Âû is reminiscent of, which is more concerning, is the passport to Aspergia, as well as other monikers people would use to identify themselves. Aspergia was this fictional island devised by someone named Edan. It had a website with a forum that lasted from 2002 to 2004. Aspergia was supposedly the land where all autistic people are genetically descended from, and it suggested that autistic people are “Aspergian Mutants”. It deliberately uplifted people with an Asperger’s diagnosis over those with an autism diagnosis, with one of its writers, TheASMan, publishing a book titled Tears For Aspergia. This book lamented that some advocates were pushing for autism to be seen as a disability (which it is). Passports to Aspergia were orange wristbands, and autistic people would wear them to show that they were aspies. This feels similar to the Âû moniker. Back when blogging was really popular on the internet, people would use specific buttons and tags, and this included autistic bloggers. Older social media platforms used to be more customizable than the most used ones are now, and I think including Âû in the username is part of trying to reclaim that personalization. Again, I do not think these are directly related to Âû, but I do think they have the same line of thinking behind them.

Many people use the Âû letters in their username, and surely not all of them are bad, nor are the people connected with them, right? Yes, there are perfectly fine people who are within this network, and most of them are probably unaware of these issues. However, many of them also display problematic behavior and espouse dangerous beliefs. They can be very opportunistic, flooding the comment sections of people who make pretty minor mistakes. It’s a common practice within the Neurodiversity Movement to protest and organize this way, and it can be very effective, but many people in these circles will see something pretty minor, like someone who uses person-first language for autism, or puzzle pieces, and practically form a picket line around them.  They’ll also claim that the way they think is how “the majority of autistic people'' feel, rather than explain the merits of their argument.

Finally, and most importantly, using the gold for autism creates a feeling of separatism from the rest of neurodivergence and disability, specifically in the context of the gold infinity symbol. The gold infinity symbol was first used circa 2014 by AutisticUK, a UK-based labor party organization. It was taken from the pre-existing rainbow infinity symbol that symbolizes all forms of neurodivergence, meant to be an infinity symbol exclusively for autistic people. I really don’t see the need for this. Now the rainbow symbol has its own somewhat problematic origins, being made by the creators of Aspies for Freedom, but I personally like the way it looks, what it represents, and I think it’s been used in mostly decent ways over the years. There’s certainly an essay to be written about AFF themselves. I’ve always envisioned the Neurodiversity Movement to be about more than just autism and for autistic-led spaces to include more than just autistic people. I feel like what will truly liberate us as a community is if we have cross-disability solidarity. This is something the Disability Rights Movement has struggled with since the beginning, so it’s not a problem exclusive to us neurodivergents, but it is still an issue all the same. The founders of Autism Network International had the right idea, and utilized a concept that has sadly been mostly lost to time-cousins. Mel Baggs wrote an excellent blog post about this a few years ago: https://ballastexistenz.wordpress.com/2016/11/01/cousins/ 

I feel like the Neurodiversity Movement. as well as any disability movement, is at its best when it takes all forms of disability into account and is inclusive of all of them. The Disability Justice Movement does this the best. Using gold to symbolize autism as its own separate entity does not accomplish this. If you like it, more power to you. I did not write this to convince anyone to think exactly as I do. I just personally think that gold doesn’t look good on the Neurodiversity Movement.

#ActuallyAutistic #DisabilityRights #DisabilityJustice #Neurodiversity

[july13th2004]

Happy Remaster Release Day!!! My copy of the Chosen Edition (Switch version) is probably not going to arrive until sometime next week, hopefully, so I won’t be able to play quite yet (I also want to take photos of it), but as I have some more fic writing to do (amongst other things), that’s perfectly all right with me.

Anyway, here’s a full screenshot of Sheena from the login bonus in Asteria that’s going on right now to celebrate the Remaster! I decided to place her against one of the cherry blossom backgrounds that I have from other characters in the game, since cherry blossom season is right around the corner in Japan and it does go very well with the obi on her outfit.

And I know most of you probably know about this quiz already, but I’m going to post about it anyway...

So there’s this character quiz, which you can find here (English, Japanese, Korean, and Traditional Chinese are the supported languages), where Colette asks you to first pick your favorite gel from Apple, Orange, or Lemon, and then she asks you a few more questions to determine which character you are. I think this quiz might include more than just the main cast too, as I think I’ve seen people get Mithos and Noishe over the last couple of days since this quiz has been out.

Anyway, it’s just a fun little game you can play if you’re curious about which character you might be, and I also think there’s new art for each character (I’ve mostly seen people get Kratos on Twitter, because I follow his Japanese tag, and I can’t recall seeing this official art of him before).

And then here’s a couple preview photos of the snow bunny plush I bought from a seller on Mercari that arrived a couple days ago. It’s so, so cute, and I can confirm that it’s squishy like mochi just like what the host of that YouTube video I linked to a couple weeks ago said, lol! Anyway, I’m going to take better photos of this and the other lottery merch I bought (which is most of the Kratos merch, lol) after I take some photos of the Yomiuri Land merch I bought a couple months ago (though I’m still waiting for a couple items I bought during the post-sale period, so it’ll probably be after that arrives).

Lastly, I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who participated in or supported the Countdown event this past month. It has been so wonderful seeing all of the fanart, fanfics, cosplay, and music that people have worked so hard on these last couple of months. It was also an honor for me to write a fanfic for such a large scale event like this, and I am so, so happy that many of you like what I wrote for this event. When I started posting my fanfics on here a little over three years ago, I had a ton of anxiety around whether any of you would actually like my writing, and I am so happy that many of you do. So I just want you all to know that I really appreciate the support that many of you have given me over these last three years since I’ve started posting my fanfics to this blog. Thank you all, so, so much!

#tales of symphonia #Sheena Fujibayashi #Colette Brunel #snow bunny #merch #my screenshots #my photos #long post

[throughanotherworldmsm]

Through Another World- Prologue

I've decided to start posting this series on tumblr as well as the sites where I already do saw. BirbMonster side blog.

The first few chapters will be posted rather quickly since I've already done them.

This is not an AU. Any lore (such as every monster being a species expect for celestials and legendaries) is my actual headcanon material.

__________________________________________

The dry grass gently tickled Hermit's claws. Finally, he'd arrived at Shugabush island.

The young Strombonin looked around at the unusual landscape, tightly clutching his Strombone. The plants were tinted in unique autumn-esque colors, and oddly enough every part of the landscape was decorated in these weird human-world devices. They called them "shouters". A familiar lavender Bowgart brushed against him.

"We're finally both 18, huh?" Hermit nodded at Harebell in excitement. "Yeah. I can't believe it," "There's so much ahead of us!" Harebell half-shouted in excitement. "We could travel the world as much as we please," "True. Come on though, Bell. No time to lose!" I'll finally get to meet the Shugafam face-to face, he thought as the two made their way along the wooden path. I've wanted to do this for more than 10 years, huh. But mom and dad were always too scared of the Seam. I don't even believe in the human world. Don't think it would be a problem.

"Alright, here's the plan," Hermit announced. "We go to the town and explore outside the castle. The song will happen when the sun sets, so in around 2 hours. Then we can meet the Shugafam, and that's it for the day," Harebell smiled and grabbed onto Hermit's hand. "You're a great planner,"

As he walked, Hermit admired the unusual environment more and more, watching the orange critters scuttle and flap between the trees. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of white. He stopped to turn and see what it was. But there was nothing there. "Hermit? What-" "No, no. It's nothing," Hermit said, shaking his head and trotting back over to him. "I thought I saw something. It's probably a trick of the light," "Oh, what was it?" "This weird white flash. Like I said, it's nothing?" "Sure it isn't..." Harebell turned and spun pointlessly and dramatically, spreading all four of his fluffy arms. "Seam magic?" Hermit chuckled. "We both don't believe in it," he said. "Unless you're as superstitious as my parents," "Hah! Never! Your mother probably believes every single myth someone's ever told her!" "Remember when she got me those crystals for my 13th birthday? Said it was because my Celestial was Loodvigg!" Both monsters chuckled happily, reminiscing on childhood memories. "That reminds me, I'm getting you something for today," "Wow, what is it?" "It's a surprise! Come on now, I can see the town!"

Hermit tried to take off running in excitement, but something was pulling him back by the tail. He looked behind himself, suddenly horrified. There was another white light, this time definitely real. It was right above him, dragging him as he floated off the ground. "HAREBELL!" The Bowgart snapped right around, shocked, and immediately ran to drag Hermit away from whatever that was. "WHAT. THE. FURNOSS!" Harebell shouted as he desperately grappled at Hermit's claws, already just out of reach. Oh no oh no oh no, he thought, feeling his tail and hind legs fall into the light. "NO!" Harebell yelled, jumping desperately only to slip on a patch of leaves.

"HAREBELL!" Hermit shouted as he disappeared into the portal. The last thing he saw was a desperate pile of lavender fur, screaming and calling his name.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes, splayed out on the grass with the Strombone a few inches in front of his snout. The world around was something he'd only heard of and seen made-up-looking sketches of. It couldn't be... ————-—————-

15 years later, in a different place... "Bye," Gwen said in a monotone voice at the Oaktopus leaving the store. "Have a wonderful day," Day can't be wonderful if it's so lame and boring and exactly the same every time, she thought with a grimmance plastered across her beak.

"Well, Gwendolyn, it's 5:00 pm," said an authorarive voice from behind her. She turned to see Frazil, the Deedge who managed the store. "That's Gwen for you, fool," she muttered angrily, saying the last word under her breath. "Well, bye," Frazil's face contorted into an expression of anger. "Gwendolyn, keep having the attitude of a grouchy teenager and you'll be fired, understood?"

Gwen simply muttered a few horrible curse words under her breath as she left the store, talons immediately sinking into the thick snow as it aggressively batted at her sides.

Lucky me walking out into a BLIZZARD, she thought, shaking the snow out of her frizzy green feathers. Funny. Even after a few years back from the Collosingum, she was still re-adjusting. But then again, almost 7 years there really changed her life. It was GOOD there, though. They were the greatest champion there until that stupid T-Rox came.

Too bad she got kicked out. In fact, if anyone on Cold Island knew the reason she was kicked out, they'd probably get thrown in jail. The image was still in her mind. The vines she was controlling, growing through the T-Rox's skull, wrapping around his body as he collapsed to the ground, dead. They shuddered at the memory, but a high-pitched voice coming from just below. "Hey Gwen!" She looked down to see her sister, Pandora, a brightly-coloured Tweedle with abnormally long head and tail feathers that had to be tied back in braids. Well, techically this was her cousin. But adoptiveley, and in her heart, their sister.

You see, as a Dandidoo, with a Tweedle and a Potbelly for parents, she couldn't really have a Tweedle sister. But her aunt and uncle passed away, her parents adopted her cousin- Pandora. "Good evening," they smiled happily. Though they were embarrassed to admit it, the sweet little Tweedle was a soft spot of hers.

"How was work today?" she asked politely. "Same as always," Gwen responded, looking up at the already ink-dark sky. "And you said that's bad?" "Yeah, it sucks," "Think positive!" Pandora exclaimed, flapping up a few meters into the air before landing again at Gwen's other side. "It isn't as bad is it could be. Love life and be grateful for what you have," You tell me that so often, they thought. But I don't think it ever really gets to me, not with a job that sucks like a black hole of boredom.

"Come on," she said, taking long strides along the street. "Let's get back to the castle. We could talk and have fun there as much as we want, sis," As she walked, Gwen noticed a T-Rox clomping along the streets in a fluffy winter coat.

He stared right back at her with piercing, electric-blue eyes, looking directly forwards. Something about him looked familiar. No. Storm is dead. Besides, this one doesn't look like he was ravaged by a pickaxe. But still, creepy. "Pandora?" She whispered. "What is it?" "That T-Rox. Doesn't he look like..." "The one you... you know the one..." "Exactly like Storm. But without the scars," "Stay calm, Gwen," Pandora advised. "It's probably just a coincidence,"

_____________________________________________

*exits through window*

#msm #my singing monsters #msm story #msm fanfiction #fanfiction #through another world msm #through another world

[patronsaintofhomosandpain]

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𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖞𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖀𝖕

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I've been hesitant to post here. I haven't known what to talk about, and I've been anxiously picking through what would be the perfect first post, the perfect place to start.

I've come to the conclusion that there's never a perfect place to start, whether it's the start of your story, meeting someone for the first time, or hell entering a roundabout! There is no such thing, and you'd think I'd know that by now.

My father once told me, "If you're uncertain about where you're stepping, toss something onto your path."

He was making sure I didn't bust my ass on a particularly questionable jungle gym, but I feel like it applies here as well.

When I first started my story I was just having fun, throwing shit on my path all day just to see what would stick. When I decided writing was going to be a full-time job, that's when shit got real.

I was just out of high school and all I knew was authors didn't look like me! Authors look like James Patterson and Stephen King, authors are scholars and socialites. They aren't some smart-ass sixteen-year-old kid with neon orange hair and nothing to their name but a story they wrote on their phone and a go-fuck-yourself attitude.

Even now, starting this blog, I don't feel like I'm in the right place. I know the kinds of people that run book blogs, they keep everything nice and tidy, they always have fun aesthetical pictures to perfectly backdrop their words, they're cheery and sweet and they always have something encouraging to say.

They're not lying on their carpet, high on cold medicine for a sinus infection, typing their posts out on their phone keyboard at 1 AM.

It's anxiety provoking and isolating as fuck to think like that, it's self-sabotage and I need to knock that shit off, but the truth of that matter is those thoughts happen! No matter who you are, or what you're doing, it's natural to doubt yourself because you've never been here and/or done this thing before. Unfortunately, there's no guidebook (despite multiple books titled "how to write your book") or magic crystal ball telling you how to do it perfectly because no one is you and no one can do it like you, and until you do it you'll never know how it comes out.

"But how can I do this thing if I've never done it before?"

Do you think in whenever the fuck BC they knew how to perform heart surgery? No! They cut open Mr. Caveman Dinosaur Guy and diddled his heart a little until they learned something! Sure, a few people died at first, but the good news is that more than likely, you probably won't!

Imposter syndrome is so unbelievably real that it hurts, and unfortunately, the only cure for it is to let it win and give up. While that might be a reasonable solution to keep your wits about you, it isn't a sustainable one.

Giving up is like cigarettes, it's comforting, it eases your anxieties, but, at the end of the day, it's not good for you and like everything else will kill you.

Sure, it helps in the moment, but it isn't a cure.

You ever hear the phrase "shit or get off the pot"?

Well, someday you're eventually going to have to shit. It doesn't have to be today, take your time, enjoy some delicious bran muffins, but someday your time is going to come! So keep your head up and do it on your own terms.

And, unless you are Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can, the only person your imposter syndrome is hurting is you, so let it go.

Easier said than done, but as long as nobody is traveling back in time to stop your parents from meeting, never doubt yourself.

You're way better than you think you are.

That's the tip of the week. Write it down.

El que no arriesga, no gana

- Izzy 🖤

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PS

If you follow the second link I put with the song, it's to the genius lyrics page where Hayley Williams talks about a similar thing. I don't know, I just felt like it was powerful :)

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #writblr #writers of color #writers #writer problems #writer things #writers and poets #writerscorner #writerslife #writings #book blog #blogger #bookish #booklr #books #bookworm #bookblr #spooky #goth aesthetic #gothic #imposter syndrome #giving up #blog #wordpress #words #spilled thoughts #gentzelpretzel 🥨

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Smaller Yellow Ant - Lasius claviger

Before covering the nuptial flights of this subterranean dwelling insect colony, I have some announcements for the blog. Firstly, the blog's text highlight color has finally been fixed. Text should now be highlighted in orange; give it a try. Secondly, I'm finally taking the step to enter YouTube, start a channel* and share these insects there. I hope you'll join me in this new venture. There will be an additional post covering this, but in the meantime you may refer to this blog link for additional information. Finally, yesterday was this blog’s 5 Year Anniversary! I feel quite sheepish in hindsight that the highlight color took 5 years to fix, but I'm not much of a programming whiz. My focus is, and always will be on the insects I find and to share the photography and videography I make with all of you, my dearest readers. Wow! 5 years. What a journey it has been. I'm incredibly grateful for all my followers (both old and new), the readers who frequent my blog, and the fellow bug-hunters on this website that have inspired me! I sincerely thank you! Furthermore, none of this would've happened or continued without the contributions, encouragement and support from my closest friends and my family. To them, I give all the thanks in the world and my deepest appreciation! And now, let's talk about Ants, nuptial flights and usurping queens! While tidying the yard due to the weather beginning to change , I was greeted by a flurry of winged alates emerging from the ground near a collection of buried backyard stones.

These images don't do the sheer volume of winged Ants justice, but there must've been hundreds emerging from their nest! It's a mad rush to spread out and secure a colony before the cold sets in (more on that to come). The backyard plays host to many Ant species, but this was the first time I've seen these before. False Honey Ants came to mind first since they don't mind the cold, but with no size disparity (and timing of emergence) it was clear that these alates were something else. The lemony-yellow color of the wingless worker Ants provided a clue, and I was directed immediately to the genus Lasius, more commonly known as Lemon Ants or Citronella Ants. They are named for more than just their colorful body; they can defend themselves and rouse a colony defense whose fragrance is similar to the scent of lemon. Though it may smell pleasant to us, I'm not sure if these Ants would taste very lemony. With the risks from bites, formic acid and soil sanitation conditions, I can't recommend you eat them; observing them should be enough. While I observed them, the scent was in action, and while the alates where docile and airborne, the workers are alert and I did get nipped a few times while poking near their colony's entrances. Compared to the worker Ants, the winged alates are much larger and appear to have more defined sclerotization, but they didn't seem inclined to bite me.

Naturally the winged Ants are stored up with fat reserves to prepare the young queens for initial building of a colony and the first wave of offspring that will tend the queen. Why so many alates though? Well, the answer is one even I didn't expect: this specie of Citronella Ant reportedly usurps (parasitizes technically speaking) the colonies of of other Citronella Ants that have already established nests slightly earlier in the year! Since they don't make their own colonies and competition is fierce, many individuals are born to grant the best opportunity possible to find a colony, infiltrate it, depose the queen inconspicuously and take her place! It is madness, but with winter on the way, it's every Ant queen for herself! However, it is reported that these Ants can forage during the colder months, similar to the False Honey Ant, assuming of course the specie I chose is accurate. I've ultimately settled on L. claviger as the time of emergence lines up (right on the edge of October) within the North American environment and from the sheer number of alates in flight. Distinguishing between species is very technical without an close-up observation of individuals, consideration of range and emergence flight, but identification down to the genus is easy if you smell lemons. If you wish to search for them, check under large stones or in the soil beneath rotting stumps. Since I know they're in the yard now, I'll see if I can share future posts with foraging Ants searching for colony provisions. Yellow coloration should make them easy to spot, but they may stay underground.

Pictures were taken on September 30, 2023 with a Google Pixel 4. Thank you all for an interesting 5 years, and for more years to come!

*Note: The channel was deliberately started so as to coincide with the anniversary of this blog. This makes tracking the anniversaries of both platforms much easier. Now onto the next media publishing step...

#jonny’s insect catalogue #ontario insect #ant #citronella ant #lasius claviger #lasius sp #lemon ant #hymenoptera #toronto #september2023 #2023 #blog anniversary #milestone #5 year anniversary #happy 5 years #happy five years #nature #entomology #invertebrates

[nancypullen]

I Lied.

I didn’t mean to, and you’d think that after blogging here for sixteen years I’d know better than to say “back tomorrow!”.  That’s just asking for life to get in the way of what you’d rather be doing, right?  So life got busy, but in good ways, and now I’m back a couple days later than promised.  Oops. Since the last post we’ve celebrated Father’s Day and this guy was king for a day.

I thanked him for the two babies that look just like him and we all pitched in and gave him a kayak.  He enjoys drifting down questionable waterways (think bugs and snakes) and took it out that very afternoon.

There has been no word on the Federalsburg python, so I request proof of life photos when he’s out.  The spots where he’s paddling look like python paradise.  No thank you.

The night before Father’s Day we’d gathered to celebrate with the Edgewater gang.  I have to say that Tyler is the finest father I’ve ever seen.  Patient, kind, fun, devoted -  he’s the daddy that every little girl deserves.  I think our Little Miss knows that she’s got the best daddy in the world.  She brought this home from school.

Okay, okay, before I get too emotional, let’s move on.  I thought it was funny when I asked Mickey what he’d like for a special meal on Sunday. He started pondering, then he asked for beef bulgogi with (insert dreamy look and emphasis) “real rice”.  Poor guy, I use cauliflower rice in our taco bowls, our lettuce wraps, pretty much anything that involves rice.  I strive to make our meals mostly veggie, with lean proteins.  I’m trying to keep him alive and he’s dreaming of “real rice”.  I laughed and promised him whatever he wanted.  He eventually decided he’d rather have steaks on the grill, a baked potato, and some roasted green beans.  Talk about a man’s meal! We rarely eat red meat so I figured one day wouldn’t kill him.  I even baked an angel food cake and sliced up some enormous fresh strawberries to top it.  By sundown I felt like I never wanted to eat again. BUT...the blog post that I promised a few days ago was about recipes, so here we go. It’s summer and no one wants to spend a ton of time in the kitchen. Both of these recipes are a one pan, thirty minutes (ish) meal. They both offer big flavor and minimal clean up. What more do you want?  Sadly, I failed to take a decent amount of pics while preparing these, so you may have to use your imagination a bit.  I normally like to show the process, but since these are quick and easy - no harm done, right?

First, Sheet Pan Chicken Fajitas. This honestly couldn’t be easier.

Preheat your oven to 425 and grab some bright peppers and an onion.  I used a red, a yellow, and an orange pepper, and I had a Vidalia onion handy. Slice those up.

Next you’ll need about 1.5 pounds of chicken.  I used chicken breast.  Slice that up as well. Now you could just toss all of this onto the sheet pan, but I put my chicken in a bowl and mixed it with 3 tablespoons of taco seasoning (that’s equal to one packet).

Coat it really well, you want that flavor!  Now spread your sliced veggies on the sheet pan (if you’re not using parchment paper or a silicone mat, lightly oil that sheet pan!) and throw your chicken right on top.

At this point I sprinkled more taco seasoning on the whole thing.  I also added some minced garlic.  I just use the stuff in a jar, I’d say I used the equivalent to two cloves. That’s it. Pop that into your hot oven for 15-20 minutes.  While it’s cooking wrap some flour tortillas (you didn’t think I was going to make tortillas, did you??) in foil and slide them into the oven for the last five minutes of your cooking time. EASY PEASEY. When you remove your yummy fajita filling from the oven you could squirt it with lime juice and sprinkle chopped cilantro over it (I didn’t have limes or cilantro handy, but I will the next time!)  It really is the perfect finish.  Fill your tortillas, top them with whatever you like - sour cream, cheese, pico de gallo, etc.  Do it your way.  Any way you tweak it, you’re still out of the kitchen in a half hour.   Next, we have Eggroll In a Bowl.  I’d seen this recipe all over Pinterest on Keto boards, Weight Watchers boards, and Quick & Easy boards.  Those are all tempting to me. It’s basically eggroll filling without the crisp and tasty wrapper.  I looked at several versions and then took an inventory of what I had on hand, and did it the easy way.  I’m a fan of easy.  For example, if a recipe calls for grated ginger, I have a tube of ginger paste in the frig that packs the same punch.  Minced garlic? I’ve got a jar in the frig.  You get it. This recipe also called for ground pork (more common for eggrolls) but I used ground turkey and it was delicious.  Here we go.  You’ll need: 1 lb ground turkey 1 sweet onion, diced 1 Tbsp sesame oil 1 Tbsp rice vinegar 2 tsp minced fresh garlic (I used my jar) 1 tsp ground ginger (I used my paste) 1/4 cup low sodium soy sauce 1 16oz bag dry coleslaw mix (shredded cabbage and carrots) 1 Tbsp Hoisin sauce  2 green onions, thinly sliced You’ll start by browning your ground meat in a large skillet over med-high heat. Once the pink is gone, toss in your diced onion, the sesame oil, and the rice vinegar.  The sesame oil is what will give your dish that wonderful, nutty, uniquely Asian flavor. Cook that, stirring, until the onion is tender.  Add the garlic, ginger, soy sauce, hoisin, and the coleslaw to the skillet.

Then just cook for another 5 to 7 minutes until the cabbage is wilted. THAT’S IT.

When it’s ready, you can top with sliced green onions, even a sprinkle of sesame seeds if you’re so inclined. It’s so yummy!  I wasn’t sure if the mister would be a fan and he loved it.  I failed to take a photo after plating it, but here’s a picture from one of the bazillion Pinterest recipes.  

By using the prepared ingredients like I did, the ginger paste, the pre-minced garlic, this dinner comes together fast. Like twenty minutes. I measure my ingredients out before I start and just toss them in as needed and this is a snap. I think the next time I make it I’ll add some extra matchstick carrots. I think it could use more. But it’s still delicious, and so quick and easy. Serve either of these quick dinners with some cool summer melon chunks and that’s a complete meal. Last, but not least, have you tried chili crisps yet? I’m addicted.  I use them on just about everything, but my favorite way to use them is to start my day with a bang.  Scrambled eggs, avocado toast, whatever - add some chili crisp and take it to the next level.   This is the brand I use.

I buy mild because I’m not trying to start a fire, just enjoy a little zip.  Here’s the Mr. Bing description of their chili crisp.

I don’t care if they say it’s made with goat toenails and tree bark, it’s delicious. This was my brunch a couple of days ago.  One slice of grainy bread, smashed avocado mixed with a shake of Everything Bagel seasoning, a poached egg, and plenty of chili crisp.

I get hungry just looking at those photos. It’s so tasty! As I was grabbing those pics off my phone I giggled when I saw this one.

That’s just a taco bowl, but there’s that cauliflower rice that apparently makes Mickey feel deprived. It’s one of my favorite things to eat!  Guess I could start making a little bowl of “real rice” for him.  Or he could adapt.  Poor guy.   Another funny capture by the Ring doorbell.  I made him stand on the porch so I could snap a pic of him on Father’s Day.  We look like a couple old farts. But there he is, just doing as I asked. He knew resistance was futile. 

The camera in that doorbell has a sort of fisheye effect and warps things.  Or maybe I do have a giant left arm. Anywho, that’s what’s been shaking around here. I won’t promise to be here tomorrow, but I will try to be.  I’ve got a couple of fun things to share and I need to sort through pictures.  I’ve been working on a couple of cards too, trying to build an inventory.  Here’s one of the latest, I haven’t placed her on a card yet

Isn’t she a hoot?  I’ve found a wonderful new resource for my dead people, loads and loads of photos, so I’m having fun picking out winners. I predict long, enjoyable hours spent with my deceased friends.  I give them back stories while I work with them.  That’s Darla.  She’s from Philly, she’s got a heart of gold but runs the deli counter at Wegman’s with an iron fist. Don’t tell her how to slice the meat. She’s a bowling champ and met her second husband, Eddie, at a charity bowling tournament that raised money for at-risk donkeys. Some donkeys never adapt to farm life and Darla thinks they should be able to pursue their dreams. What? Too much time on my hands? Me? Probably.

I’ll see you soon. Until then, stay safe, stay well, follow your dreams. XOXO - Nancy

[helluva-world-innit]

Not entirely happy with how this turned out but my skill level is what it is right now and I did say I wanted to keep this blog somewhat active so here's a drawing I colored today of my depiction of Wrath.

So, I'm working on art of the Rings to try and get a feel for drawing them ahead of time and I'm going to explain how things work in each Ring too. Buckle up, it's a long post under the cut.

In my version of the story, Wrath is the first ring of Hell, top-down. It is represented by the color red but, as you can see here, there is a lot of orange and yellow as well. Now, I liked the concept of Wrath being hot and having lots of lava flowing through it but not the idea of it being the agricultural center of the realm. It should be mostly about fucking shit up and bloodshed. Making Sinners hurt for entertainment purposes. Oh, that's a thing too: Sinners can move between the Rings in my version. In fact, there is no one Ring they all come into Hell through. Upon death, a Sinner drops into whatever sin was closest to their heart when they died. E.g. Someone who was killed while pulling a heist goes to Greed. Someone who died of a drug overdose goes to Gluttony, etc. Lots of Sinners end up in Wrath and Envy Rings. Not because that's the first time they've sinned, but just that's the strongest one for them at the time.

So, Wrath is pretty unbearable, heat-wise and denizen-wise. Lots of toxic and ambush predator animals along with a thriving headhunting trade among the local imps. The main draw for the Hellborn and some ambitious and fearless Sinners is the arena: Satan's Jaws (or just The Jaws; everyone knows which ones you mean here). Black sands and no sun. The whole Ring is basically a massive cave-like structure with large stalactites hanging from high above. And yes, they do often fall and impale anyone unfortunate enough to be underneath them when they do. The flying things are dragons. They roam wild in Wrath and cause plenty of problems when they move into one of the few densely populated areas. They're also good eatin' if you can manage to kill them before they kill you.

Satan's Jaws is where battles are fought to entertain the Ringmaster herself, Satan. If she's impressed enough, the winner might get to "live" to fight again next week. If she hated it bad enough, she'll just punish and "kill" you herself. See, Sinners don't die by traditional methods. Only way to truly end them is with holy weapons or holy fire. The torment can last indefinitely as holy weapons are taken off any angel that strays into Hell and kept only where Ringmaster Leviathan of the Envy Ring knows and it ain't talkin'.

That's the other thing about Wrath: on the border, between Hell, Earth, and Heaven a perpetual battle is fought by the soldiers of Hell and of Heaven. Called a "skirmish" by some and an "excuse to invade and conquer" by others, it has been going on since the last war between the realms. To feed the never ending conflict's need for powerful bodies, every demon with rank is encouraged to produce as many children as possible. Some are incapable of this task, again, thanks to the War of the Fallen where the angels who rebelled against Heaven were cast down into Hell to remain and made sterile on top of that. Some demons, however produce enough offspring for several armies. Satan is one such being. All of the imps in Hell are descended from her, if removed by several millennia. she hasn't felt the need to produce more children since around the fall of the Roman Empire.

Sinners are often conscripted to fight on the border or in The Jaws either as a torture method or with the promise of being initiated by a Ringmaster to the rank of Overseer if they show great skill or strength. Hellborns don't survive the process of initiation but enjoy putting Sinners and angels "in their place" and volunteer to do so in droves.

The Circus is also held here once every year. A Hell-wide event that is meant to encourage inter-Ring unity and is basically where some of the worst behavior Hell has to offer goes down including, but not limited to: larceny, kidnapping, murder (Hellborns can and do die if killed while in Hell), hard drug abuse, sexual misconduct of all varieties (both consensual and not; it is Hell and it does happen. i will not be depicting it, but it does happen), drunken and wanton destruction of anything not bolted down (hence why The Jaws are the chosen locale), and cannibalism. It's like if Burning Man was arranged by Jeff Dalmer, okay? Just all around madness and debauchery fueled by a need to mentally escape Hell and also prove you're the worst of the worst. There is also a competition held. A series of tests the Ringmasters issue to the newest Overseer hopefuls. Last one standing gets endorsed and initiated by the Ringmaster who chose them to participate.

Notable characters from this Ring are Millie/her family, Striker, and as yet to be revealed Overseers of the Ring. Also planning on doing a map view of this Ring later so I can paint a better picture of where everything is in relation to each other.

Up next: Gluttony Ring!

#jack is wording again #7 levels of wtf #helluva redesign #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #wrath ring

[revui]

Quin seems like a fun character but I have nothing to go by beyond Foreverlands and a few memes. I saw on your blog that you're down for talking abt your OCs though. So! Do you have any fun facts about Quin?

what if i [kisses anon on the mouth]

fr this is one of the best things i could've woken up to in my inbox although by the time i finish this it definitely won't be the morning anymore

SO QUIN. Quintilian Holmes. Here's a random fact before I really get going, looking at the posts that I have tagged as Quin, the oldest one is actually referring to a completely different character, and their name was Quindecim. They wound up sharing nicknames by accident. Anyway, from this point forward, this post is now all about Quin-as-in-Quintilian and not Quin-as-in-Quindecim.

So, the thing about Quin is that he's very emotional, he's very artistic, and he's very observant. He's also highkey brimming with rage at all moments in time. When people read "emotional" they sometimes forget that incandescent fury is an emotion, and it happens to be one he wears well. But it's very easy for people to overlook that because he tries quite hard to avoid showing that. He tries to act like a Guy Not Full Of Anger and partially succeeds, but anyone who really knows him is very aware of (and wary of) this part of him.

His major role in the actual story that I've been writing with him (I only post the random episodic stuff I think of) is as someone who's trying to solo the entire government. He pops up a few times earlier but his first big appearance is when he's in the middle of his plan to topple the whole system.

He's from a place called Ivory Ridge, a now-destroyed town which was a safe-haven for demons. "Demon" as a term is very loose in the Foreverlands. It just refers to any humanoid who isn't a human. Actual demons are hard to come by in the present—you'll pretty exclusively find descendants and people with demonic heritage instead of actual full-on demons. Quin is descended from dryad-like demons. After Ivory Ridge got destroyed, Quin got adopted by his moms, Mildred and Emelia Snow.

Switching topics entirely, glyphs. He brings those up quite a lot in the chapter, and the weird thing is that they're kind of a lost art. Quin isn't fully aware of this. Glyphs are essentially tiny symbols that "code" the magical world of the Foreverlands, and when you notice certain patterns (such as a symbol that seems to code for creatures being able to change color), you can mix-and-match different glyph symbols into a whole new glyph. If you mix the symbol that codes for color-changing with a symbol that codes for a lattice-shaped structure in a bush, you can use this new glyph to... I don't know, transmute your blue fence into bright orange lattice.

The reason he uses glyphs is somewhat related to his disability. Sorcerers can use magic because they have a special organ that turns the magic in the world around them into something they can actually wield, and Quin's doesn't work properly, and to put it very very simply, this results in him having "less magic" than other sorcerers. He medicates for this but still has an easier time just using glyphs instead of other focuses because they're smaller, easier to carry, and his special interest. That's right, boys. Autism is about glyphs.

Quin's an artist who is constantly filling his pockets with crumpled papers and pens and looking for new stuff to draw. He likes other arts like sculpting, carving, and pottery, but he's not as good at those and usually doesn't have the tools on hand like he does for drawing.

Colum's also from Ivory Ridge and the two have known each other since they were three. Quin still has a crush on him. Quin knows this fact. Quin hates this fact. His standards are basically "be a person, breathe oxygen" and yet he's only ever been on a single date, mostly by accident, because he didn't realize his classmate was asking him out in a romantic way instead of a friendly way. If ever asked on a date (assuming he actually realizes it's a date), he would dress in his weirdest clothes so that whoever he's dating knows what they're getting into ahead of time.

He's my little skrinkly.

His favorite color is pink, which happens to be his hair color, but he prefers more vibrant shades of pink, especially those that lean closer to purple, while his hair color is a sort of pastel pink instead which he really dislikes. Speaking of his hair. It's very curly and he never has any clue what to do with it, so he just kind of leaves it there to do its thing and hopes for the best. It ranges from "halfway decent" to "I was just in a wind tunnel" and he's stopped trying to keep it under any modicum of control.

He's got freckles. Lots of them.

He's very bad at holding himself to plans and deadlines and has made a habit of showing up to things late, or not at all. He was actually almost ten minutes late to his definitely-not-a-date and agreed to a second one only because he felt bad about that, and then they never showed up to the second date so Quin went home and carved a little wooden bird statue instead. Her name is Toodle.

Alright, insane ramblings over. This was a lot of fun :D

#levi rambles