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#this community has been so beautiful and kind at every turn. i'm so grateful to get to be here and meet you all
starflungwaddledee · 2 months
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this is a long shot and i'm sorry to ask, but if you don't mind, can mutuals (or contacts or regulars... just... this community) of mine who aren't jumping ship like... let me know? will any of us still be here? is it over? i'm trying to know if this really is it or what's... even happening. i hate to reassurance seek but i'm feeling pretty miserable and confused.
edit: felt like i was being really pitiful and fragile making this but everybody is being so nice to me and responding so patiently with all your thoughts and i'm in tears of gratitude thank you thank you thank you 💖
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loving08 · 2 months
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Blue Sky
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Damon Salvatore x Y/N
Summary: Is Y/N feelings for Damon gonna hurt her or will they have a happy ending?......
Part 1 | Part 2 |
Y/N walked into the boarding house and heard music blasting throughout the house, she furrowed her eyebrows and followed the path to find where the music was playing. when she entered the kitchen, she understand what actually was going on and just shook her head. with a smile on her face she asked "what are doing Damon?".
Damon looked up hearing her voice and smirked at her and said "what do you think I'm doing. I'm making breakfast so that I would not starved to death". Y/N smiled and sat down in front of him and said "and since when did you started eating real food to survive Mr. Vampire?". "Since you have been coming to have breakfast that is made by me Ms. Chuckles" said Damon looking at her. Hearing his nickname for her she let out a small chuckle and Damon smiled hearing her. It has became a routine for her to have breakfast with him.
Y/N lives in Mystic falls with her grandparents, both of her parents are at Edinburgh, Scotland, her real hometown. she wanted a different environment so her parents let her live with her grandparents and complete her schooling in Mystic fall. she came just a year after Stefan and Damon came into the town. Y/N knows what Damon and Stefan really are. since childhood she had been told that there's a different world and that is the Supernatural world. she has been told by her parents and family about Vampires, Werewolfs, Witches, Hybrids, Heretics and many more. she herself was a witch, a Rosewood witch. Living in a Supernatural world is dangerous but she was not worried about herself that much as firstly the Rosewood witches are very powerful even more than the Bennetts and they are treated as Royalty in the Supernatural world and secondly her and her family are very friendly, kind and sweet in nature, and that is known among every supernatural community. Her parents has always told her that to never judge someone before knowing them herself as she doesn't know what they have been through so she never made a conclusion or judged someone based on other thoughts and opinion, and maybe that was the reason she and Damon gets along so well, can be said as best friends.
When Damon came into the town, he had made himself a reputation that he was the bad guy, gives bad vibes and is a very evil and selfish person and everyone believed it. Y/N was the only one who didn't believed it, she always thought that he tries to portray to be the bad guy but the real him is nothing like that and as for selfish, isn't everyone selfish to a certain range. It was very frustrating for Damon at first, he wanted every single one to think that he's the bad guy, the evil one and everyone did believed him even his own brother did but not Y/N. He was not happy about it but as time goes on and as he started to get to know her he realized that it was her nature to treat everyone kindly and she's a good person with a beautiful heart. she was the first person who had looked at him warmly and treated him kindly without feeling any disgust towards him and he is forever grateful to her for that and as their friendship grew he become very close to her and protective over her.
Damon put the food in front of Y/N and arrange some for himself and sat beside her. Y/N took a bite of her food and said "Mmmm.... see that's why I always came here to have my breakfast, you makes the best pancakes Damon". He smiled at her and took a bite himself and asked "so what is today's agenda?". Y/N turned towards him and said "Bonnie called this morning and said that she still can't find out why Jeremy still seeing Conner so I'm going to her house to help her with that and Caroline said she and Stefan are gonna help practice Jeremy and Matt to defend themselves better. we don't want what happened yesterday to happen again. It is already hard to help everyone when they are in danger so it's better if they learn to defend themselves". Damon nodded his head and took their plates to the sink. Y/N turned to looked at him, and feeling eyes at him, he looked over his shoulder and at her. she continued to looked at him and asked "Are you alright...? Everything's okay with you?". Damon dries his hands and turned to face her with a questioning look . Y/N shook her head a little and said "Its just.....you didn't ask me about Elena, your first question would always been about her and her whereabouts but I have been seeing that you have stopped asking it for sometime now so.....".
Damon looked at her for a minute and pushed himself from the counter and walked towards her. He came to stand in front of her and tugged some hair behind her ear and said "Everything's okay and No I don't always ask about Elena so don't worry your little head about it" Y/N just nodded her head but didn't believe him, maybe they had a fight or something she thought. Damon would always question her about Elena this and Elena that and everyone was aware of his feelings for her. Thinking about this Y/N felt a little sting in her heart. Damon loves Elena and everyone knows that but what nobody know was that Y/N also love Damon not just as friends but more than that. she knew having feelings for him is wrong and so she never wanted to accepts those feelings and always denied them to herself but as she spends more time with him she realized she can't stop those feelings anymore so she never told anyone, keeping it one sided, even if it hurts her.
Y/N walked to the front door with Damon behind her and opened the door but turned towards him and said "I'll be at Bonnie so if you need something or even if wants to spends some time together come find me there and....umm... Elena she.... she's at her home that's what Bonnie told me so if you want you can go see her too" and without waiting for any reply from him she left the house. while driving towards Bonnie's house she thought about her feelings, she can't go on like this anymore, not only it was hurting her but it might become a problem later, she need to do something about it. A while later she reached her destination and parked her car, walked up and knocked on the door. The door opened and she looked at Sheila Bennett and gave her a small smile. Sheila Bennett did died a while ago using all her magic power to open the tomb and Bonnie was so miserable from that and Y/N felt very bad for so she requested her mom to do something. It was the first time Y/N has ever requested something like that so her mom agreed to her and pulled some strings on the other side so Sheila Bennett can come back and it worked. when Sheila came back, she thanked both Y/N and her mother for their efforts and for doing that for Bonnie.
Sheila gave a big smile to Y/N and hugged her and said "Hello my dear, Bonnie is upstairs waiting for you". Y/N nodded her head and walked upstairs, upon reaching Bonnie's room she knocked once and walked inside and looked at the grimoires and books all over the room and said "Goodness, What have you done to your room Bonnie". Bonnie looked up at her and let out a tired sigh and said "as you can see I was looking for the information we needed and I didn't realized I was making a mess, and when I did realized it, it was too late and now I'm not being able to clean it" and gave a sad pout.
Y/N laughed at her and said "that's why I told you to not to start on your own and if you do, ask Sheila for help because I know how messy you can be" and set some books aside. Bonnie looked around her bedroom and nodded knowing Y/N was telling the truth, she can be very messy if she want, then she looked towards Y/N and a smile formed at her lips, how everything has changed, before she always had to help everyone and had so much pressure on her and all her friends expected her to have every solution for their problems but after Y/N came nothing's the same, she would always help Bonnie with everything and that lessen so much pressure from her shoulder and she was thankful to her for that but that was not the moment they got closer, the day Y/N came to her house with her grams alive was the day Bonnie realized how much someone's heart and soul can be so pure and that was the day she started to think of Y/N as her sister.
Y/N looked up from the work and noticed Bonnie was lost on her thoughts and slowly she walked up to her and gently puts her hands on her shoulder and said "Hey you okay? you look a little lost there". Bonnie shook her head a little and said "Yeah its just... I was just thinking how everything's has changed, 2 years ago I can't imagine myself having a best friend other than Elena, or how I would have someone to depend on other than my grams". Y/N smiled at her and said "well my mom says whatever happens, it happens for a reason, so let's just hope good things continues to happen even in the future". Bonnie returned her smile and they both started to clean the room. After a while they both laid at the bed when Bonnie turned towards Y/N and said "so how was your morning?". Y/N looked at her and said "just like any other day, why?", "Ooh I just thought there might have something happened between you guys as you know, your breakfast date with Damon".
Bonnie was the only person who knew about Y/N feelings for Damon and its not like she wanted to tell her but it just happened, one day they were just talking when she had a slip up and at the end she had to tell Bonnie everything. Y/N rolled her eyes at her and said "It was not a date and..... its not like anything will happen between us, you know Bonnie that he still loves Elena and maybe he will always be in love with her", she let out a sigh and sat up.
Bonnie also sat up, turned her body towards her and said "sometimes I really think that your brain is full of nothing but trash" and rolled her eyes when Y/N let out a offended 'Hey' and said "What, its true, are you really that blind Y/N, don't you see the way he looks at you, when you walked into a room his eyes lit up like literally, and whenever he talks about you there's a sparkle in his eyes and gosh his voice, he always has a fond and a soft voice talking with you or about you that he never uses with anyone not even with Elena, not anymore". Y/N understand what Bonnie trying to say, hell even she hopes that's the case but she's afraid, she doesn't want to get her hopes up and later get it broken and feel the pain, that's something she doesn't want to experience at all.
Y/N turned to look at Bonnie and said "I know what you are trying to say Bonnie but I just...don't want to get my hopes up, if he has any sort of feelings for me, I want him tell me himself, I just don't want to get my heart broken". Bonnie nodded her head and took Y/N's hands and said "okay let's just not talked bout love life and find the things we need....hmm". Y/N knows Bonnie trying to distract her so she just nodded her head and they both get back work.
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smallgronk · 8 months
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This Community: A Love Letter <3
When I originally joined Tumblr, it was because reddit was being fucking dumb and I didn't want to support it. I had been a user for almost a decade and it really was frustrating to leave a platform I enjoyed so much. It turns out to have been one of the best things to ever happen to me. I went from a lurker to being active in a wonderful community here on Tumblr. I originally joined because I wanted to see the same memes I got from reddit, and I loved the horny vibe mixed in. It was right when I was beginning to explore myself for the first time in my life, rather than just floating along. When I got here, it took me a bit to find my feet, and holy shit was the effort worth it. I struggled with feeling like I was invading, but so many people took my hand and let me know I was welcome all the same. Whether I knew what I was or not, and because of that I was able to truly immerse myself fully in a vibrant queer community for the first time. I had plenty of interactions with many in the queer community before, but not from the inside like it happened here. I finally was able to figure out something that made me feel comfortable with myself. I realize in hindsight, I had never truly felt at peace. I suspected I might be trans before I came here, but I learned some of what being trans means to me in this place. I was content to leave the story at that! To have been grateful for the small kindnesses afforded to me by those around me. To start to try and help others see the same things I had my eyes opened to, and just move forward. And then this week happened, and it feels like my life is going to have a before and after. In a mere five days I have had so many things occur it takes me paragraphs to even glimpse the surface. Death, fear, bravery, exploration, romance, joy, and hope. I have experienced these things more deeply in a matter of days than I have in the last decades of my life as a guy. I have spent mere weeks as a girl on tumblr, a week in my house as a girl, have yet to try and be a girl in public, and I don't even think I consider myself a woman yet, but my life as a girl has felt like its almost just as long as the life I spent as a man. Its incredible. In the middle of this incredible, horrible, beautiful, and terrifyingly stressful week I didn't know how I was going to make it through each minute let alone get through each day. And then this silly little horny community reached out to me. Everywhere I turned I had people not just offer support when I complained, I had people reach out just to let me know they were there if I needed them. I'm so used to just shoving things down and dealing with it alone that I didn't even know how to accept this much help. Every time I had gotten everything shoved down again I had someone else reassure me that I was allowed to lean on them if I needed. It was incredible. It felt almost coordinated with how many people helped me. And I just don't think it's possible for me to express my love for everyone in this community who has helped me both this week, and in the time leading up to it. Those who have given me tips. Those who have helped me find myself. Those who have made me feel beautiful. Those who have let me lean on them when I needed to cry. Those who just let me know they would worry for me. @xenasaur @justaflatbitch @userwordandpassname @rosieeyes @crocadilly @latenitegirlluv @evergreen-femme @v10l3nt-gl1tch3s @tymera @godincarsnate-blog Thank you. I have already said words to some of you, but there is no chance it accurately gets across how much so many people here have meant for me in the little time I've spent. I have surely missed people here, so please don't think you don't matter if you haven't made the list. It's not just these few people. It's the entire community that gathers together and makes this kind of thing happen. Everyone has played a role in making such a lovely space what it is. Big hugs, much love- Jay
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months
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Hi 👋
Since you said it's ok to reach out, please don't mind me dumping my thoughts on the cancellation news :
OFMD and it's fandom, even though I'm very much a lurker, is so important to me. The last few years have been really chaotic and not in a good way. My life has turned out very different from what I've imagined and I've had to give up many of the things that brought me joy.
The doses of serotonin I got from OFMD and its fandom, even by just scrolling tumblr a few mins, made all the difference to keep me going. Now I'm sad and a bit fearful that life is going to be that little bit harder, and that I've lost something to look forwards to.
I'm sad for the cast and crew and the fandom too. And depressed thinking about the future of art. I have a hard time imagining a positive future, both on a global and personal level, and I fear corporate bullshit is ruining human creativity and storytelling.
I am grateful though to cast, crew and fandom. We really got something so special with OFMD. I feel a bit guilty for not having the time and energy to contribute much, and I was hoping that if season 3 had happened, I would by then have had more to give.
Thanks for everything you do for the fandom 💕
Hi friend! Ooo I love your icon btw. Yes please! My dms and asks are always open (sometimes I'm a bit late getting back to them because of time differences and crazy work situations but I do try to get back to you within 24 hrs, especially now!)
Can I just say, I really appreciate you sharing this with me and the crew? I know it's really hard to talk about these kinds of things, especially when you're already feeling upset, and I am so honored you felt safe enough to share it.
First, and foremost, I totally get that guilty feeling, like you didn't have time to do enough. But you know what? You did plenty. You were here lurking, and participating in the background. Not all of us have enough spoons to do crazy things every day to support our show, and that is 100% okay. The fact that you kept yourself going is exactly what needed to happen, and I'm so glad you found some solace in the OFMD fandom. The most important thing is you are here with us, and you're getting something good out of this wonderful community.
The situation seems dire right now, I know. It's so hard because it feels like "Well maybe if we just did x more" it would be enough, but the hard truth of it is, it wouldn't. You are right, the corporate greed out there is ruining human creativity and storytelling. However-- I think this is a wonderful opportunity for us to keep fighting the good fight for exactly those things.
Every piece of art... or fic... or cosplay, or drink or any creation really, inspired by the show has the power to fuel creativity in others. We are creative creatures, and I know I, like you, had given up for a long time many of the things that brought me joy. This community, this fandom, this show, is fueled by creativity, and love and joy and inclusivity, and that is a beautiful thing, and that is certainly not gone. Even if we don't get an s3 now or ever-- that spark, that inspiration is still there in all of us. They can't take away the way that show made us feel.
You feelings on worrying life is going to be a bit worse are absolutely valid hon. I spent all yesterday afternoon crying my damn eyes out because I felt like I finally had something I could continue to support and fight for, and that I may have had some semblance of control over and it was taken away. Your grief and fear are so damn valid. I'm also feeling very strongly about "I have a hard time imagining a positive future, both on a global and personal level". I'm lucky to be a part of a community where when I expressed those same concerns people gave me some great ways to help cope and put my energy into. @celluloidbroomcloset passed on this nugget: "So I've got friends who are, like, Activists with a capital A, and from what they've said a good place to direct efforts when you feel helpless is at local levels. Can be politics, homeless advocacy, queer orgs, environmental, etc. or other orgs within your area, etc. Because a lot of change can happen more easily at the local level and you can engage with people more readily in those spaces and make a difference. It breaks down the bigger issues into something more manageable with real, visible outcomes." Please know friend, you're not alone in these fears, we're all feeling them right now, and I'm really happy you felt like you could reach out and talk about them. If you wanna talk more please feel free to DM me. Thank you for all your kind words to the community and the cast & crew too, I know they need it just as much as we do at the moment. You are a super human <3 Take care and get some rest, and when you feel up for it, please come back to us and keep loving the things in this fandom :) We're all still here.
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minniiaa · 2 months
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I AM FROTHING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!11!!!!1!!!!!! YOU GOT ME BARKING
First of all, thank you ^-^ <333
You've not only satisfied my simp heart with bottom Law but also my yearn for and emotionally constipated Law being proven wrong
Second, I have more ideas or course :D
This is a gigantic leap from my previous… contributions, but I want to share my love for something I enjoy just as much as my little guys (grown ass men) getting railed in such a way it puts the trolley problem to shame. Sweet, sweet aftercare, I dunno what about it that enthralls me but just- like- I- jsbdudbskospaks-
It's an honest 50/50 whether the aftercare situations I think up actually comes after sex or if it's all I think of. It has me by the throat man.
Something about Law feeling safe enough to tell Luffy when he's had enough without feeling the need to force or threaten Luffy, or not holding out far past his limit so Luffy doesn't “get bored of him” makes my brain melt and mold back into the shape of a sea urchin.
OH, MORE THOUGHTS!!! >:0
Here me out, modern au, Law comes back to their apartment more tired than he's ever been after the longest shift he's pulled in a while. All he wants, more than anything, is their bed, screw the shower, he couldn't stand long enough to take one and he knows the moment his knee bends further than what's needed to walk his body will collapse. So he heads straight to bed, unsurprisingly, Luffy is awake and anticipating Law's return to give him his “goodnight kiss” that became the only constant thing Luffy upholds. Law tosses himself into bed as soon as he gets his pants off, leaving them on the floor along with his shirt, and Luffy is immediately on him. Not to Law's dismay, he knows he won't last long but the fact that Luffy still wants him when he's coated in sweat and deadweight kind of turns him on. He's right, he doesn't last when Luffy eats him out while running only the pad of his thumb up and down the base of Law's shaft, and GOD does everything *hurt. Law doesn't get that post-nut daze, instead he's hit with an ache deep in every muscle and bone from the souls of his feet to the back of his head that he has no choice but to succumb to. So badly does he want to feel Luffy all over him, all up in him, but he can't ignore his limit if he tries. He gets what he wants anyways, without having said a word Law's exhausted body is crushed by the concrete hold Luffy calls a hug, and Law couldn't be more grateful for Luffy's mysterious workout routine. It's the silent communication of Law's needs that relaxes him further, not needing to rely on his voice for Luffy to know, to understand, his pain makes it all the more easier to just let Luffy take care of him.
You got me out here writing paragraphs man, you've changed my chemical components on a spiritual level lol. Also, I stand by that my headcanon dumps are a bit much, so just know that I don't expect a masterpiece response every time. I MEAN THEY ARE ENCOURAGED CAUSE GYATT DAMN, would ABSOLUTELY eat your writing while dressed better than for a wedding and a napkin in my lap, but I dunno, I don't want you to think I'm trying to make you pump out tailored content for me. Definitely just like my own self-consciousness wanting me to make that clear sorry lol I think this might be the largest headcanon dump I've shared.
-💫💀💫
ANONNN I AM SO SORRY I JUST CHECKED MY INBOX AND SAW THIS BEAUTY!!
I am sooo glad you enjoyed my little oneshot I wrote and it scratched the itch of your last message. I just took that idea and RANNNNNN with it I have to admit.
I am also super happy that you came up with your own head canons omfg I'm frothing. I definitely can't write a whole story this time, but you inspired me to add some of my own little head canons because it was just too good!
You are hilarious and I am picturing you dressed for a wedding waiting for dinner but it's actually just my writing. Don't feel self-conscious, I live for this shit. You can leave headcanons whenever though I can't promise I'll be able to get back asap, I will always slurp it up and add my own thoughts if it's something that speaks to me. Maybe one day you'll decide to share your own stories and I will be the one who gets to leave my headcanons in there! :)
With that being said, here are my thoughts:
I loveee Lulaw aftercare (and just aftercare in general cause who doesn't like the sweet moments after getting your insides rearranged), especially your situation. I'm deceased at the thought of Luffy always waiting up for Law's goodnight kiss. Does he do it because he wants Law to be the last thing he sees every night before bed? Or because he wants to make sure that he's awake if Law needs him after his long hard days at work? Maybe both, Luffy is self-indulgent and also wants to do whatever he can to make Law feel loved and comfortable.
Sometimes Law needs Luffy to fuck him until he forgets about how shit his day was and how maybe he lost a patient and he just needs his mind and body filled with nothing but Luffy who can push him to the edge in unimaginable ways. Luffy never says no, he could eat Law for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He just loves watching the way his normally tense and irritated lover falls apart underneath him. Other times, Law just needs his partner to give him a quick and much-needed release before pulling him into his arms and giving him the attention he craves when he can barely think straight after a stressful day, his body screaming at him to just shut off and let go.
Luffy knows Law so well that he never has to tell him what he wants which is great because Law is terrible about asking for things. He never wants to be a burden, never wants to feel like he's taking too much from Luffy when he's already given him everything he's ever wanted and more. Luffy feels Law's body going limp after he comes, how he sighs contently and buries his face into his chest. Law just needs him there to recharge him, to soothe his weary body and soul and Luffy loves him so much he would never think of doing anything different.
Luffy knows exactly what Law needs in those quiet moments in the dark. He runs his hands over Law's aching body, healing him with his soft touches. Soft kisses are pressed against his skin, no intent to go anywhere further behind them even though Luffy yearns to feel Law around him, to hear his pretty sounds echoing through his ears. That can wait for another time, right now he will just satisfy Law with his gentle caresses. He wraps his arms around Law, pulling his weary form into his arms, so close that he begins to forget where he ends and Law begins just the way he likes it.
Law usually gets so flustered and cranky when Luffy spills his feeling out but they've been doing this for so long now that Luffy knows Law will let him say whatever he wants when they're like this and he takes full advantage of it. He plays with Law's hair, telling him how much he loves him, how he's so lucky to have him in his life, how he wants to be with him forever. He lists all of the thing he loves about him-his compassion, dedication, strength, and beauty.
Law loves the way Luffy's voice sounds when he whispers these sweet nothings into his ear. He's so calm and quiet, so different from his normally loudmouthed self. Sometimes he responds, though usually only with a "thank you" or "I love you". Words are hard for him even though he feels just as strongly for Luffy. It brings him comfort knowing that Luffy never expects him to say anything back, that he does this simply because he wants to.
Once, in a fit of insecurity, Law asked Luffy if he feels neglected because Law is so terrible with words and even though he tries, he just can't express how he feels inside. Luffy simply smiled at him and said "I know how much you love me. You don't need to say it. I just like to tell you because sometimes you get in your head like you are right now and forget". Another time, he apologized to Luffy for being too exhausted to move a muscle after Luffy went down on him. Just like before, Luffy smiled and said "Making you feel good makes me feel good. Taking care of you makes me happy."
After that, Law realized he might just be the luckiest man in the world. He stopped worrying about if Luffy wanted or needed more from him on these days when he he couldn't give anymore. He graciously took all the affection he was given, allowing Luffy's calming voice to lull him to sleep, saying words Law would never be able to accept were all for him.
That's all for today, sorry if it was a little messy I am too tired to proofread any further. Thank you once again for the food for thought <3333
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pastafossa · 4 months
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The last day of 2023.
And holy shit has it been a chaotic ride, one which you all shared with me, or that's what it feels like!
The Major Moments:
Feb: Cato's cancer diagnosis and discovery of weird mutated cells that likely won't be explained until after he passes away. He's still with me, fortunately! No idea how much time he has left but I'm grateful for every second
April: a small leak in my dining room ceiling turned into a bigger leak which turned into a massive hole in the ceiling, at least it wasn't winter???
May: DD Born Again Photos give us all a goddamn heart attack
May: I FUCKING REACH MY OVERALL 1,000,000 WORD COUNT ON AO3. 🎊 🎉 🎊 Next stop is 1mill for TRT!
June: Went to my first con since Covid! Drove all the way down to Philly to see Charlie Cox, WHICH WAS FUCKING AMAZING, HE HELD THE RED THREAD FOR OUR PHOTO, MY FANFIC DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE, AND I TOLD HIM WHAT DD MEANS TO ME AND HE WAS SO NICE I COULD CRY
June: At that same con, I finally FINALLY got to meet my bff @wonderlandmind4 in person after many many many late nights of chatting, and we just CLICKED like we'd been friends for years, which I should have expected, but still! And then I got to meet a bunch of my readers, too! Best con experience EVER
July: enter Whoops Covid Finally Got Me After 3 Years But Charlie Was Worth It ™
July: Finally dusted off my draft of Pasta's First Dark Fic cause even if my brain was too fuzzy to write, I figured I could edit a bit. And I did! And was pretty happy with the results!
August: Shit Now There's A Long Covid Heart Issue And I Can't Be Seen Until Late November Thanks Covid ®
August: leak in the garage leads to me losing about 65% of all the beautiful, special woods pieces I'd gathered over the course of six years for carving. Within a week I am gifted a huge bin of wood from a kind soul at my local witchy shop
Sept: TRT's 6th anniversary!
Nov: I was slowly getting back into the swing of things, doing a bit of writing in between learning to manage whatever was going on with my heart (which we'll hopefully figure out in January when I get all the results of testing in Jan)
Early Dec, and the worst week of my life: mom got sick. Within one day she went from not feeling good to needing an ambulance. By the next day, she was in the ICU - flu induced double pneumonia that was interfering with her breathing and heart issues. And with one more day, she was put into an induced coma and ventilated, without any of us sure if she'd pull through. They told us she'd likely be under for two weeks, potentially longer even if she made it. The amount of messages and supportive comments I got from all of you, the talks I had with @wonderlandmind4 and @shouldbestudying41, just the general sense of having a community to help me means more than I can ever say as you all helped me through that terrible, horrible moment, even if it was just gently messaging me to remind me to try to eat.
Mid Dec: against ALL odds, Mom was off the ventilator in a week. By week 2, she was out of the ICU. By week 3? Off to the physical rehab center. She was there a grand total of 1 week before she was allowed to come home to finish her recovery. Early December was the worst moment of my life, and yet it was also bookended by the best Christmas of my life even if it was spent at the rehab center, because I got to have my mama back, and hug her and tell her I loved her and make jokes, and now she's home and we've been watching Christmas movies and eating grilled cheeses, and as far as I'm concerned, that's what the holiday is to me: not presents and snow and lights, but this moment, this time with her. 'In all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas.'
In just a few hours for me, it'll be 2024. I have no idea what to expect going forward, or even what to plan for, much less a resolution. I know I want to get back to TRT when mom's a bit better (she still needs a lot of help, understandably). I know there are wood carvings I want make; friends I want to visit; witchy events at my local shop I want to go to. But other than that... who knows? If I'm lucky, things will be calmer than this past year. But even if they aren't, at least I know I have dear friends, all of you, and my family, including Pasta Mama, to help me through it.
Goodbye, 2023. Hello, 2024.
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ithappensblog · 9 months
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nice to meet you
Hi, I’m Jenny and welcome to my blog. In this post, I want to share with you some of the highlights and challenges of my life so far, and how I’m trying to find my purpose and happiness in this world.
I’m almost 34 years old and still struggling to figure out my life. Aren't we all? I’ve gone to school for a diploma program in Medical Laboratory Technician/Phlebotomy, a diploma program for Accounting Technician, and started my Human Resource Management diploma program too. I’ve always wanted to be an RN but, life and my body had other plans for me. I’ve always been interested in learning new things and pursuing different careers, and I've finally found one which fulfills me. I have a really good job now, but I’m not really supposed to talk about what I do so I’m going to leave that part out, but it’s finally something I’m good at and something I enjoy doing. It pays well and gives me flexibility and stability. It also challenges me and allows me to use my skills and creativity.
I have a husband who I’ve been with for 10 years now. Jason has helped me grow into a much better person and loves me unconditionally. He supports me in everything I do and encourages me to follow my dreams. I have 2 stepsons who have given me a run for my money but I still love them both at the end of the day. They are growing up so fast and I’m proud of the young men they are becoming. After an incredibly challenging fertility journey, I have my almost 5 year old daughter who is bright, caring, funny, and wise beyond her years. She is the light of my life and the reason I smile every day. I always tell her she saved my life, and it's true, but I won't tell her how until she's much older.
I have a passion for traveling and exploring new places. We try to do a big family vacation once a year and just this year decided that one trip a year should be spent nurturing our relationship. I love animals and have two dogs and three cats who keep me company and make me laugh. I’m on a journey to self love after spending my entire life as an overweight underdog. I’ve struggled with my body image and self-esteem for as long as I can remember, but I’m learning to accept myself and love myself for who I am. I have a daughter now, and I owe it to her to be kind to myself as the way I behave in front of her will be a reflection of how she treats her own body.
I live with many invisible illnesses both mentally and physically but try my best to get through every day. Some of the conditions I deal with are anxiety, depression, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, insulin resistent PCOS, Chronic Kidney Disease, chronic fatigue syndrome, migraines, and more. Yeah, I know, it fucking sucks. But, I'm definitely not here to gain pity for my health problems. By looking at me, you'd think the only problem I'd had in my life was enjoying one too many cheeseburgers. Some days are better than others, but some days are really hard. I try to be positive and optimistic, but sometimes I feel hopeless and overwhelmed. I’m grateful for the support of my family, friends, doctors, therapists, and online communities who help me cope and understand that I’m not alone.
I grew up in Guelph, Ontario and ventured back to Sudbury, Ontario after leaving my now ex-husband which was the best decision I’ve ever made. He was an interesting choice to say the least, and for the longest time I felt so trapped. It took me a long time to gather the courage to leave him, but when I did, I felt free and empowered. It was a turning point in my life that led me to meet my current husband and start a new chapter.
I’m thankful for this beautiful life I live. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. And it’s full of love, laughter, learning, adventure, growth, gratitude, and hope. Thank you for reading this post even though you're probably rolling your eyes at yet another new overnight brainchild. But I'm going to try to use this as an outlet to heal and grow from the shit life throws my way, and hopefully inspire others to do the same along the way.
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beatsboy · 9 months
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8.5.23 4:29am
fluid is turning into the most beautiful community that i could have never envisioned when we started this. it started as a birthday party, for myself and a few others at the house, where i booked a dj, then two, then a couple of live acts, and then came the tattoo flash artists and vendors… now, we have a community. and it's not that dumb move to la collective bullshit. that's the crazy thing. we didn't plan this. we didn't create this with the intention of bringing a bunch of people together for something specific--it just kind of, happened. out of our backyard, out of my studio, out of a group of queers that just wanted to have their friends play their music and sell their art and tattoo people. and now, we're at a budget of almost $2000 in artist payouts and have been able to contribute back to the community in an actually meaningful way. the things people have said to me about how much these parties mean to them has been baffling, i never thought it would mean this much to anyone other than us, than me even. i'm still somehow shocked that other people want to put work and effort into this. i'm used to being the one who has to convince people to care. i remember throwing literary trivia nights at the cultural center i worked at in college, buying all my friends' tickets so they would come and they would keep putting on the event. the only thing that made it profitable was me and a group of MFA students that came every month to show off their knowledge on classic russian literature.
i have never been part of something that involves other people that i have wanted to pour my soul into so whole-heartedly. it's not that i haven't spent this much work on something, i have. i put more hours into brightstar, even. but why? to make money? that wasn't it. i never saw a paycheck. my billable hours were metaphorical, at best. i put more time into novels, but that was always alone. i have poured countless hours into countless projects and jobs and people, and fluid drives me absolutely crazy sometimes with how much work it has turned out to be, so quickly i may add, but it drives my crazier when TB proposes we take a break and put it on pause because--no, i need this. i need this as much as our community needs this. i need this event like i want to be there, like i want to put it on, like i want to see everyone enjoy themselves and see my friends play their music on a stage we built, on a stage i paid for, in a space that is safe and protected and designed for them. for us. and not only have i never done something so connected to who i am and what i actually want to be doing, but never have i done something like this with other people who care as much as i do. never have i been surrounded by people who see importance in the same thing(s) as me, not like this.
i will not overwork myself into the ground because this is worth it. because this has to be sustainable, because i want to do it for a long time. because i want to do all of it. it is not a "work myself to death until i'm done with this job" it is not a get rich quick plan. it is so much more than that (and i doubt we'll ever become rich from this, no matter how long we do it, but that's also kind of the point). we're doing things differently, and it's harder, and it takes longer, and more effort, and it's so so worth it. we are not simply throwing every DJ and local artist we can find onto a flyer and charging more and more for tickets so we can afford the lineup. we choose every single person because we're obsessed with their music, because they are part of our community, because they get it. we think about every aspect of every event, with firebenders and mermaids and now aerial performers. these are things i barely knew existed a year ago. and i can't wait to see what we come up with next. it's so much, and i am so grateful to be finally spending my time and energy on something that fuels my purpose. i thought my purpose was to create, and i do still think that is part of it. but more so, i feel like my purpose is to take care of people. and to make people feel less alone. i tried to do that through my novels, but i never realized how much of that is at the core of hosting events, especially queer/trans events, as well. it's the whole point. it's not about having the coolest club or party in la, it's about the people who show up, who keep showing up, about making them feel welcome and warm and excited and belonging all at once. and i see that in everyone's faces when they come to our shows, and i hear it when they tell me how much they love coming to every one.
i suppose i'm still surprised every time someone comes back again, as i am so accustomed to people leaving.
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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year
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toriiii babe (。•́︿•̀。) i have no other words to utter but
the last chapter is freakin beautiful.
first of all, the scene where we was waking up, and you using the five senses?? that. was. freakin. good. i read it before i got out of my bed and it really felt like i was in there. like i was sucked into that world that you created and all i can feel is warmth and contentment. i also love that you included tsumu's pov. when he said, “good mornin, pretty.” lemme tell you, i absolutely MELTED. i really love this scene because it's intimate and romantic, contrary to the events that happened the night before. (not to say that i didn't like it. i certainly did!! but this is a different kind of good, if i'm making sense?)
then their lighthearted banter about tsumu's back?? and we was bein confident again?? and reminded tsumu about doing that again but this time, really slow and really hard?? man, my insides turned into jelly!! it's a wonder how tsumu was able to keep his composure at all.
and then the bed scene ugh i LOVE it!! love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it and the baby endearment??? and tsumu bein a thigh enthusiast??? OH MY GOODNESS *chef's kiss*
then came their vulnerable moment. lemme tell you, babe, i was tearing up when i was reading that (つ﹏<。) i can relate to reader's worries and fears. tsumu is... idk an uncharted territory?? he established early on that he wasn't the second date type of guy, and falling for that kind of guy IS scary bc we might just get hurt in the end. but i am glad, i am so GLAD that tsumu realized that he loves us when we was still with him in that bed and did not let go of us. otherwise, i think we would be consumed by our doubts regarding our relationship with him, and we would just... run away (i think). i just about lost it when this line came up, "you keep coming up with excuses, not because you want him to agree with them, but because you want him to keep disputing them." this line hit differently, babe. it just him me right in the feels and through my core. and then this part?? “i’m not doing any of that without you,” he says, pauses, and then adds, “if you’d keep me around.” !!!!!!!!!! it's the perfect and the only right response to what we was being anxious about. and then the okay part??? the scenarios that followed right after??? i was sobbing while reading it all *sniffles* it's beautiful, tori, i could not have asked for a better ending.
now, about the maki ending... i really tried my best to read it. i really did. i even thought that i would be rooting for them when i read ch 7.5 but when i read ch. 8.5, and saw how hurt and confused tsumu was. i couldn't take it *nervous laughter* when he said “i let you meet my fucking brother.” i had to stop. i mean, i love angst, i usually have it for breakfast, but ig not today?? or not to this degree, bc i saw myself in tsumu, and my greatest fear is being rejected after i've been vulnerable with someone. that's why i'm afraid that i cannot give ch 8.5 the love that it deserves (╯_╰)
also, i apologize for my late ask (^^;) it's been a not-so-good day so i waited til after work so that i could give my full attention, energy, and honest thoughts about your wonderful work. twrt has been my motivation and comfort for the past 6 weeks, and it's always been a pleasure reading it. that's why i'm extremely grateful that you shared this with us although it's originally intended for your fiancé's eyes only.
so, thank you, thank you, thank you for this, tori bub ♡ and i am looking forward to the epilogue, and to your next tsumu fic!! AND the osamu fic that you've been teasing us~ enjoy your vacation in barcelona~!! muah!! ٩(。•́‿•̀。)۶
oh my goshshshshshhh. babe hi. ily. i just cannot COMMUNICATE ENOUGH how much not just THIS ONE but every single ask and tag and message and comment of yours has MEANT. thank you for following along and pointing everything out that you love because it’s just made me so happy and excited abt my own writing and stuff too T-T
i’m super super looking forward to every one reading the epilogue and hope everyone loves it (esp you ily) and AH YEA. i’m gonna enjoy my vacation it’s gonna be great and beautiful >:) hehehe. ily ily
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baksukki · 4 months
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take me to the sun
pairing: bakugo katsuki x todoroki shouto
summary: Todoroki is irrevocably lonely, unless he's fighting with Bakugou, and that's kind of a problem that not even their friends can fix.
cw: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers, fighting kink a little bit, angst, pining, drug use, depression, panic attacks, aggressive hickeys, spit kink
wc: 10.4k (and counting)
pls support me thru this ao3 link!! or read below
Bakugou and Todoroki don't talk about a lot of things, if at all. Their main form of conversation has always been an awkward acknowledgement of A Thing, followed by incoherent screaming in the face of confusion. This usually discourages Todoroki from trying to start another conversation, which makes Bakugou angry for a different reason ("Hah? Now I'm not good enough for you to talk to, Halfie?") and it's honestly a whole thing. So, they've come to develop an odd neutral agreement of only mildly acknowledging each other's existence with nods, hums, and gestures. 
Bakugou likes it because he doesn't have to hear the halfnhalf bastard struggle through social interaction like the sheltered, spoiled brat he is. Todoroki likes it because he doesn't have to hear Bakugou throw a toddler-esque tantrum every five seconds. It's a good deal, but not exactly sustainable. 
If it were up to them, they wouldn't speak at all, but being in the same friend group complicates things. Todoroki can't escape these interactions because his best friend is Midoriya and Midoriya's oldest friend is Bakugou and Bakugou's best friend is Kirishima, who is Midoriya's boyfriend and Todoroki's classmate. It's kind of inevitable, their tentative relationship. 
Todoroki glares at him now, just as he glares at him, another thing that they do when in vicinity of each other. Silent, angry, confusing glares cutting though thick air and distant conversation, it's almost a game of chicken to see who turns away first. The problem is, they're both too stubborn in their own right, so their eyes battle for far too long in the light atmosphere of their usual bar. 
With everyone else blocked out, Todoroki can really focus on how beautiful Bakugou is. Not traditionally. His beauty is like the the edge of a kitana, drenched in red, fast and sharp, glinting in moonlight and shining too bright. Dangerous.
It coincides well with his grating personality, he thinks. Bakugou's blood red eyes size him up and down for a moment before returning viciously to his steely glare, it sends a chill down Todoroki's spine. Distantly, he hears a lull in conversation between their mutual friends, but he pays it no mind because Bakugou also doesn't care.
"You guys aren't gonna, like, fight each other, right?" Kirishima's light, reassuring voice almost brings him out of his daze. Bakugou smirks.
"This candy cane bastard couldn't last a second against me, Kiri."
"Izuku, when will you put a leash on your friend?"
Midoriya doesn't want to say that speaking to each other indirectly is still technically speaking to each other, at the cost of his life, but the two of them were going to drive him crazy.
"Shou-chan, Kacchan, would it kill you both to get along for just one night?" Midoriya asks only to get insulting looks back. Of course he wouldn't understand their way of communication. Kirishima places his hand on Midoriya's shoulder as if to say 'just let it happen'. 
Todoroki catches Bakugou's eyes again as their friends also communicate through non-verbals. He sizes him up with a sneer, a familiar expression on the fiery blond. Todoroki smirks back at him because he knows it'll annoy him. It does.
"I'm going the fuck home. Fuck this." He pushes up from his seat and begins to stomp away, but Kirishima, ever the loving giant, pulls him back with a sigh. 
"I'm sure once we get some drinks going around, it'll be all good. Come on, bro, it's been a tough ass week on all of us. With the the semester ending and Izuku working on this project for All Might Studios - we all need a break!"
Todoroki guessed he could agree with Kirishima on that. Not that school has ever been a problem for him, but this final week has been absolute chaos, especially given that his brother will be crashing with him for a few weeks. His brother who hasn't contacted him in three years, out of the blue, uninvited and disheveled, pounded at his door last night and basically announced himself temporarily moved in. Todoroki remains as calm as he can manage, but between school, his brother, and his father...he really has managed to become just as stressed as his friends. 
Bakugou sits back down with a huff and folds his arms. If he weren't so grown, it might've been cute. 
The drinks do manage to loosen the mood when they come around. Todoroki downs several even though he's well aware that he's an incredible light-weight. Bakugou side-eyes him through this process but, of course, says nothing.
"It's the final part of my interview process where basically I film someone in my life who I care about doing everyday activities and give them superpowers through the art of video editing. It's taking me a while to nail, and the deadline is soon, but still it's such an honor to even be sending anything to All Might Studios! What if All Might himself see's my video and approves and lets me into the program and then becomes my mentor and then next thing you know I'm editing the latest hero movie of --"
"Deku! Shut the fuck up, you're ruining the fucking atmosphere talking about work."
Midoriya blushes. "Work? Ah, you really think this could become my work? Thank you, Kacchan."
Bakugou rolls his eyes as Kirishima plants a series of small kisses all over Midoriya's freckled face. 
"Not what I fuckin' meant. No one wants to see that bullshit."
Todoroki snorts. "Who did you end up picking as your muse? Kirishima?"
The forementioned redhead grunts with a mean pout. "Nope! Because he's not a good boyfriend. I told him a million times that I wanted him to make me the strongest man ever and he didn't even consider it." Midoriya gives a long winded groan at this and explains that his boyfriend was being unreasonable.
"I love you too much to try and edit you, Kiri. Nothing I make will ever be good enough to send in." He explains, which gets Kirishima to blush like an idiot. Shouto wishes sometimes that his friends could be cute and in love somewhere else. Bakugou obviously had similar thoughts given how he gagged. "I'm filming Momo, actually, she has some extremely awesome ideas about what her power could be and she said we could use the space in her chemistry lab to film."
"Yeah? And why the fuck wasn't I considered for this hero bullshit? We all know I'm the obvious fucking choice and I'd have the best power."
Shouto hides his snort behind his hand. Bakugou settles a seething glare on him.
"As if you'd willingly do anything I want you to."
"Next time at least try, ya damn nerd!"
"Here we go..." Kirishima mumbles as the duo starts a loud back and forth.
A heavy buzz jolted Todoroki from the conversation. His phone notification read Natsuo's name with no cover picture. He excused himself from the table and power-walked towards the back exit of the bar. Natsu could only be calling for one reason and he isn't exactly in the right state of mind to give the correct response. Nevertheless, he clicks the call back button and hopes for the best.
"Shouto, are you okay?" His brother asks. He's sure that the booming music from the front of the bar could be heard through the phone, so he couldn't even pretend as if he were sitting at home. 
"Heh, yeah. I'm...I'm cool. Very. Cool." Yep, that sounded kind of normal. Natsuo huffs.
"You're fucking drunk. Shou, did Touya visit you this week? He's been acting shady as fuck and apparently he's in some hot water with the police right now." Nothing Shouto didn't already infer from context clues. Touya's head was leaking as he limped through Shouto's apartment for the first time last week. He had no suitcase, just a backpack full of pill baggies and a few shirts. The last time he'd seen his brother, he'd only had one tattoo on his arm, now his body was almost completely marked from head to toe. And his hair was pitch black. He was almost completely unrecognizable. 
"No. I, um, I haven't seen him. What's going on?" He asks. His brother sighs deeply into the receiver.
"Something about drugs and arson. You know, typical shit from him. He called me a few days ago, basically talking in circles about if we still had that beach house upstate. He hung up when I told him dad sold it. Shou, if you are in contact with him, cut it off now. He's dangerous and he doesn't give a fuck about you or any of us. Do you hear me?"  Shouto knocked his head against the wall behind him. A bit too late for this talk now, he thinks. His oldest brother, who insists on being called a different name, is probably knee deep into his seaweed snacks and watching some bullshit horror movie on his couch. 
"I hear you. I know he doesn't care, he never has." He thinks back to trying to help Touya and getting sneered at and pushed back like a stranger. It really hurt then, but until now Shouto had decided to keep that bottled up and repressed. "Fuck him. Fuck him and dad." He finally says through a bitter laugh. And fuck you, too, he wanted to suddenly scream. He wasn't quite drunk enough for that. But actually fuck his brother for treating Touya like he was a complete lost cause and failure. Just like their fucking dad.
Neither he nor Natsuo will ever know how it felt for Touya growing up with their father. The abuse he had to endure on his own, the psychological damage he'd taken in stride.
Shouto barely remembers most of his fucked up childhood at all, but he remembers his mother's loving embrace, and never playing with his siblings, and faintly, a white-haired kid stepping in front of their father's aggressive backhand for him. It was the only memory he had of Touya actually being nice to anyone, but it was enough for Shouto still consider him family. Something the rest of his family couldn't do.
"That's the spirit, kid. Are you drinking responsibly, Shou? There anyone with you?"
Todoroki looks around on instinct and rolls his eyes at himself. "I'm with my friends." Just as he says so, a flash of spiky blonde hair moves through the crowd towards him.
"Well, mostly friends. They'll take care of me, don't worry. I'll, uh, call you back later." He ends the call without waiting for a response because suddenly Bakugou is right in front of him. 
Todoroki fears that their mutual understanding is being tested to the max tonight. The liquid courage makes him want to say lots of things, anything at all really. He wishes he could sometimes. Bakugou doesn't break like he does, though. He's an immovable object and that scathing, loathing glare on his face only cements that. 
The background noise of the place, the drunken conversations, bass boosted music, clinking of glasses, it all suddenly fades into the background. Bakugou's annoyed look stays as he reaches his hands out to him, grabbing onto Todoroki's sweater and pulling him closer. Shouto barely has time to gasp, he's so caught off-guard that he loses balance in the pull and ends up clutching at Bakugou's waist. 
His breath is stilted now this close to him, their faces inches away now. Shouto tightens his grip on Bakugou's waist, for no reason in particular because he was fully balanced again, noticing that the man was incredibly defined. Both of their mouths open at the same time, as if to speak, but no sound actually came out. A beat passed of Shouto looking into Bakugou's eyes, searching for something...anything.
Bakugou removed his hand from Shouto's sweater like he had been burned, then pushed him away - this time off to the right. Shouto was about to ask what his problem was and why he took to tossing him around (not that he was complaining too much, but that was besides the point). 
However, Bakugou just shakes his head like he's so unbelievable, then pushes into the wall that Shouto had been leaning against.
Oh. 
It's a door.
Bakugou disappears into the door that Shouto just realized was the men's bathroom that he was blocking. He has enough sense to cringe. 
Bakugou tried shoving him out of the way just now and he ended up trying to wrap his arms around his waist instead of being normal. Great, yet another reason for that bastard to hate him. When he walks back to their table it's with a dejected spirit and he barely even hears Midoriya's excited ramblings anymore behind the rush of embarrassment.
Bakugou comes back completely normal, if not a bit annoyed. The rest of the night is irrelevant afterword because that's all Shouto can even think about until he waves goodbye to the group.
Shouto ends up taking the train home instead of a taxi, just to clear his head. 
He wondered why he suddenly felt so lost in a sea of moving parts. Midoriya has always been so focused and driven towards a singular dream, so it's no surprise he's finally getting everything he's ever wanted. But he's in a happy relationship with the love of his life. He didn't even have to date around first, they were high school sweethearts and just so happened to be soulmates. Shouto never believed such a thing to be true until he saw it with his own eyes. 
But, it still sucks. Because now that he knows it exists, he's that more pissed about his parent's relationship, about his sister's failed marriage, about his own nonexistent love life. Even fucking Bakugou has had serious relationships. And here he is, alone and tripping into his own apartment where he feels like a stranger.
When Todoroki stumbles half-heartedly through his apartment door, he's greeted to the sight of his homeless, druggie older brother two beers down and cutting a white line with his credit card on his living room table while explosions played on the tv screen. He sighed. 
"At least hide this shit when you hear me coming," Shouto exclaims, glaring at the offending powder on his furniture that's bound to ruin his brother's life more than their father. Touya is as unaffected with his presence as ever and proceeds to lean down and snort up his line, sniffling and rubbing his nose afterwards. He looks back up with a cocky smile. "What if I were with someone?"
"With someone? Heh. You're not the type to get wasted and come home with someone. You get wasted and then leave early to probably puke and cry in your room or some shit."
"You don't know who I am, Touya. Neither does dad. Guess that's something you two have in common, if nothing else."
He leaves the room while Touya's eyes are still wide and offended. He doesn't care about saying the wrong thing or not anymore. He's lonely. He realizes that. But is that better than putting himself out there and getting hurt in the process? He doesn't know anymore. 
He continues on like that, dragging his lifeless body to and from classes and wondering why it is he's becoming a business major. There's not even a single part of him that finds any interest in business, but it's what he's been groomed for. To someday inherit his father's company as the heir, even though he's the youngest son. His brothers were too big of disappointments for daddy dearest. 
He wonders why his brother is still living in his place. 
He bumps into him sometimes in the evenings when he gets back from school or work, but it's always in passing and with little communication. He didn't know what he expected when he accepted his terrible brother back into his life, but he at least hoped that they wouldn't treat each other like strangers. 
He wonders why he's still thinking about holding Bakugou's surprisingly lithe waist. 
Bakugou is the most infuriating person he's ever met in his life. He hasn't so much as glanced in Todoroki's direction since that night in the bar, despite them having the same gym schedule and study sessions with their best friends. Their usual game of glaring is paused for the next week despite Shouto's very brash attempts at starting something indirectly (prolonged eye contact, sarcastic raised eyebrows, general 'harrumphs'). He eventually canceled his next study session with Midoriya, not because of Bakugou, he just didn't feel like seeing his best friend make goo-goo eyes at a certain redhead. 
In the meantime, he's struggling to start a conversation with his brother that won't end in curses. He's usually leaving by the time Shouto arrives from class or work, quiet and always with that damn backpack. It's not like he's clueless as to what he's out there doing, working for some high end dealers and doing things that could get him arrested. He often wonders how arson is brought into the equation. As far he knows, Touya burned down someone's house and there were no fatalities, but the owner was someone involved in politics. No small feat. Shouto thinks he could actually go to jail for harboring a fugitive.
The rest of the details are foggy, he just picks up bits and pieces from when his siblings start ranting in their groupchat. He can just imagine it if they find out he's been housing said criminal and lying to them about it. 
"Touya." 
"For the last fucking time, my name is Dabi."
He sighs. "Dabi."
"What? I'm busy."
He's thumbing through a large stack of money, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he muttered numbers to himself. Everything is organized in a very specific order on his dining table. When he's handling his business, he gets silent and focused, his incessant foot tapping ends, his face relaxes. He thinks his brother might've been a perfect successor to Endeavor Corp in an alternate universe. 
"Why are you doing this?" He finally asks. Touya doesn't stop counting or smoking.
"Double checking that everything's all here, including the cut for my boss."
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant, asshole. I appreciate one of you people acting like I'm part of the family and shit, but I don't have to explain shit to you, Shouto. We have different lives, bro. Fuck off."
He's tempted to call their dad and snitch on him most days. Touya isn't a good person, he's not even an okay person, and every time he speaks it's nothing but a reminder that Shouto will never know anything about him. 
His friends still hadn't been over since his brother moved in and he'd make sure that they never would so long as he was bumming around with his drug money all on the countertops, coke residue on any flat surface he could find. It was insufferable. 
He couldn't avoid his friends forever, though.
His and Bakugou's non-verbal agreement comes to a head once Kirishima insists upon a night out with his 'best buds' at some restaurant downtown. Todoroki only agrees because the alternative would be to meet up with his father to talk about the future of Endeavor Corp, and he'd honestly rather dive head first from his father's office into concrete than do that. 
The only problem was that Midoriya and his muscle-head boyfriend were late and Todoroki was stuck waiting at the bar with a feral-looking Bakugou. They're on minute eleven of tense silence and avoiding eye contact. The upscale place isn't typically a spot Shouto would frequent without his family, but Midoriya had insisted that he come out and enjoy himself to celebrate 'ten years of friendship'? Or was it twelve years? Todoroki isn't sure when he and Midoriya officially became 'friends'. He thinks that he and Kirishima are very friendly but friends might be a stretch...and he and Bakugou can barely speak without arguing, so this whole thing feels a bit ridiculous.
Todoroki decides to break the silence that has lasted for six months, one week and eleven painful minutes. 
"Izuku and Eijirou are late." He decides is a good enough ice breaker. Bakugou's eyes shift to his with malicious intent, not an unfamiliar feeling, but this time Shouto is actually nervous for what's to come. He's silently glaring him down, from his stoic expression to the tapping of his shoes and back to his two-toned hair. 
Shouto is expecting the worst.
"Tch. No shit." Bakugou growls. 
He sighs in relief. That wasn't so bad.
"Maybe it's...traffic?"
"Talking time is over, princess."
He sighs. It's always a battle. How Midoriya can even stand to be his friend remains a mystery to Todoroki. 
"For our shared friend's sake, we should at least be somewhat cordial for this one night." And that's not an unfair thing to want, right?
Bakugou grunts. "Deku is not my fucking friend," says the man who threatened Kirishima with death if he broke Midoriya's heart. Shouto couldn't control his eyes from rolling.
"And every time you open your fucking mouth, I want to murder you. So no. Fuck you."
"I'm trying to be the bigger person here and—"
"That's such bullshit! You don't get to act like the damn victim after being an icy bitch to me for years! It's no wonder why you don't have any fucking friends besides annoying ass Deku, you self-righteous, cry-baby bastard!"
Todoroki feels an indescribable anger bubbling inside of his chest. "You're one to talk. No one in high school even fucking liked you, you know, and the only reason Kirishima and Midoriya stuck through all your bullshit is because they're both forgiving to a goddamn fault. But I see you. You're just a kid throwing tantrums because you want everything your way. So, fuck you."
He takes back every nice thing he's ever thought about Bakugou. He's a demon. 
Bakugou gets an oddly somber expression on his face before pushing himself up from the chair. "We're going outside."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"I've tried to be nice, but it's fucking hopeless with you. Come on, we're ending this."
Bakugou leaves Shouto with no option but to follow behind him as he made a scene trudging through the restaurant to the back exit. If that was Bakugou being nice, then Shouto is hesitant to see him anything else. He follows closely behind anyways with just as much vigor and determination. The exit leads to a small alleyway leading to an array of different establishments, the only light coming from the full moon and bright neon signs above their heads. 
"You think fighting me is going to fix anything? Violence is always your first answer to anything."
If Shouto could pinpoint one single moment that caused this feud, he would, and fix it. However, it's the culmination of dozens of moments that's triggered this act of aggression. Days when he'd overhear Bakugou talking shit about him, days when Shouto would overstep his boundaries, and even when they'd accidentally bump into each other and not exchange apologies. Midoriya tried his hardest to make his two best friends get along, but in the end it wasn't enough. Maybe it'll never be enough. 
Todoroki and Bakugou circle each other like wolves, hands clenched beside them. 
"This is childish, Bakugou."
"And it's fucking needed. I've fantasized so much about punching that pretty boy face of yours, it had to happen at some point."
"You've fantasized about me? I don't even think of you at all." Except for when he thinks about high school, or when he decides to go to the gym to exercise, or happens to see literally any other blonde person - sometimes for absolutely no reason at all. (Bakugou's an annoyingly memorable person, that's not Shouto's fault.)
Bakugou's face is set in an angry scowl despite the slight twitch of his right eye. 
"You can't lie for shit."
Shouto scoffs. "Fine. I sometimes imagine knocking that stupid, smug expression off your face. Is that what you want me to say? You really want us to fight right now when we're supposed to be waiting for our friends?"
"I just wish you would stop acting like there isn't a fucking problem here. You don't get to be a dick to me and then act as if all this has been me and try to start a conversation. Since when the fuck do we talk?!" Bakugou raises his voice, it echoes through the dark alley. Shouto wants so badly to say that he's the one who's a dick, but damn it he's trying so hard to end this.
"I'm not denying that there's a problem, Bakugou, I'm trying to offer a temporary truce. I don't like you and you don't like me, we can leave it at that, but Kirishima and Midoriya seemed pretty serious about tonight for whatever reason and I don't want you to ruin it."
He cringes as the words fumble out of his mouth. He didn't mean to say it like that, but it's far too late.
"You think I'll ruin it? Fuck you!" 
His fist is inches away from Shouto before he has time to react. He turns his face last second and the punch connects to his cheek instead of his nose. The impact knocks him off his feet and he can't even gather his thoughts before a body is straddling him down on the pavement. Bakugou's fist connects perfectly with his nose this time, the pain only registering after another punch lands on his mouth. He puts his forearms together above his face to stop the attack.
"Fight me! C'mon, princess, I know you wanna fight me!" Bakugou yells through clenched teeth. Shouto releases his blocked position to look up at Bakugou. His eyes are unhinged. "You wanna hurt me?" He grabs Shouto's hand from the ground and forces it around his own throat. Shouto's eyes nearly pop out of his head. His hand twitches around Bakugou's neck. "Hit me back. Or are you just a helpless victim, huh?" 
Shouto has the most confusing moment of his entire life, stuck in a haze of anger, pain, and something he's too ashamed to admit. He hates that only Bakugou can pull so much emotion from him, hates that it's like this, hates that he can't be normal. He hates Bakugou. So he sits up and punches him in his stupid face. The punch resounds a sickening crack and Bakugou is knocked to his side, his sudden gasp at the hit evolving into  pleased laughter. He uses the hand still gripping Bakugou's throat to toss his body off of him. Off to the side Bakugou lands with a huff. Shouto follows him with vigor and straddles his stomach.
He's smiling through bloody teeth and Shouto hates him even more.
"Didn't expect a princess like you to know how to throw a punch."
Shouto goes in for another one but Bakugou turns too quickly to dodge his fist and he ends up hitting pavement. "FUCK!" He curses while trying to shake the pain out of his hand. Bakugou takes the moment to wrap his arms around his midsection and tackle him back into the ground. They're full on wrestling in the middle of an alleyway and everything hurts and nothing has ever felt better.
The blonde fiend knees his side and nearly knocks him off balance, but he counters it with a swift block and jab at his throat. He chokes a bit, but still remains with that nasty smirk on his face. 
"Fucking cheap shot." 
He twists Shouto onto his stomach, pushing his face into the concrete below. His hand that doesn't hold his head down holds his hands behind his back. He tries to wiggle out of it but Bakugou just presses him harder into pavement. It fucking stings, but the feeling of him pinning him in place does weird things to his brain chemistry, he thinks. Because he also starts to laugh. And Bakugou laughs too.
It's almost cathartic.
Well, until...
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!"
<hr>
It's an awkward sit down, to say the least. Shouto could feel the blood dripping from his lip to his chin and Bakugou's eye was beginning to turn purple. Across from them, their best friends look between them with the disappointment of parents coming home to find marker stains on the walls. 
"This thing is getting out of hand, bros. Izuku and I wanted this to be a happy evening, just to realize we can't leave you two alone for ten fucking minutes without you turning into animals!"
"He started it!"
"He started it."
"I don't care who did what! My Izuku is sad on the night of our engagement because you two idiots don't know how to properly communicate your—"
"HAAH? Engagement?!" Bakugou shouts loud enough to make even some waiters pause to look over at their table. The two boys sigh.
"Engaged to be...married?" Shouto asks. Bakugou shoots him an irritated look but has the sense to turn back and wait for their friend's explanation. Midoriya blushes before lifting his left hand to the table. A small, silver wedding band with a tiny emerald in the middle sits on his ring finger. Shouto smiles. Of course Kirishima didn't cheap out and got the perfect ring for him. Bakugou hums in acknowledgement.
"It's about damn time. Congrats, losers." Which was the closest they'd probably ever get to a heartfelt speech from Bakugou Katsuki. Midoriya squeals with excitement and Kirishima gives his best friend a fist bump. Shouto is still frozen in place, taking it all in. 
"Thanks, Kacchan. I guess it was pretty expected out of us. It's kind of not the only reason we invited you two here. We actually, you know, want to...we want to ask--"
"Will you two be our best men?"
<hr>
Silence.
<hr>
"Together?" Shouto asks.
Kirishima sighs. "Look, we know it's a lot to ask, but you guys are our best friends and no one knows us better than you. And we don't even want anything too fancy, just your help on getting groomsmen and planning the bachelor's party of course." Kirishima winks and nudges at Bakugou at that. 
Shouto catches Midoriya's concerned look and tries to adjust his face into an encouraging smile, though he's sure that's not what it turned out to be. His head is still spinning. His friends are getting married...because they're at an age where people actually fall in love and get married and start a happy life together. He sighs. This isn't about him.
"I can handle all that bullshit by myself," Bakugou says, "I'm not doing anything with this asshole." He gives Shouto a seething glare before turning back to their disapproving friends. Midoriya's face especially falls. 
Shouto might not be happy, but it's not like he ever wants to see his best friend sad. Damn it.
"If it'll make you happy, I'll do it. I'm not selfish." 
"And I am?"
"This isn't about you or me or anything else. Our friends want us to help them."
Bakugou sneers. "Gross."
"Guys, it's not like the wedding is happening right now, we're literally still fighting over the last pack of ramen at home, you think we can afford a fucking wedding? Be serious." Kirishima scowls. "All you need to know is that it's happening and you're gonna be our fucking best men despite how unmanly you've both been acting lately!" 
"However, we will have a little celebration in the meantime. I was thinking of getting the whole OG class together and spending a night at Kiri's old house. His parents are out on vacation in Seoul, so we thought we'd give Kiri the house party he never got the chance to have."
"I was such a good kid." He frowns. "I had a house with a fucking pool and never even took advantage of it."
Bakugou grunts. "You had a house with a pool and yet you continued crashing at my place, eating all my damn food?! I oughta kick your ass, Kiri!"
"Not now, Kacchan. It's gonna be fun, though, we'll set up games and drinks for everyone." Midoriya looks viscerally excited, his body practically shaking trying to contain his happiness. It's cute. "Old school sleepover vibes. Oh! Maybe we can watch the All Might series in order from the first scripted—"
"Sweetie. No offense, but we'll all be getting too fucked up to watch a series that includes 8 movies, 2 spin-offs, and a 2 hour long holiday special." Kirishima shuts his fiancé down with a gentle hand to his shoulder. Midoriya pouts. 
"That's fair, I guess. Maybe just the first one? It's a classic!"
"Of course, sweetie." He pulls him in to kiss his forehead and the other giggles. Bakugou coughs.
"I'm happy for you and all, but if you brought us here to be cute and kiss each other, uninvite me from the wedding right now." He says. Shouto regrettably has to agree with him. Kiri laughs.
"Relax, bro. We just wanted to share the news and eat out with our best bros." He suddenly looks very dejected. "But you keep fighting. I mean, look at you. I can't sit across from you and ignore the busted lip or the fucking black eye...tonight's obviously not a good night and that's okay."
He feels bad, but Kirishima's right. He won't drag on the depressing night and neither will Bakugou, despite how pent up he seems. 
"I'll call you later, Shou-chan." Midoriya says as he stands and bids his goodbyes (not to Bakugou).
Shouto calls for a ride that night, eager to return home and clean the blood from his face. He only hopes that his freeloading brother isn't there to see him at this low point, but he never gets what he wants. Dabi is there when he walks through the door, blasting punk music and making the most convoluted sandwich Shouto has ever seen. He stops scooping the ramen on his jellied bread once he notices him standing there. 
"Shouto? The fuck happened to you?" He's immediately glaring and it's a little scary. "Who did that to you?"
"Nothing. No one. I'm fine." He replies while taking his shoes off and slipping into his house slippers. 
"Do you need me to deal with them? I will."
Shouto laughs. "Wow. Since when do you give a fuck about me? I'm almost moved." Dabi's face twists into something mean, but he doesn't continue his tirade and allows Shouto to stomp off to his room like an angsty teen. He slams the door behind him and locks it. The one time he wants some peace and quiet is the one time his brother decides to act like a real sibling. 
His tries to keep his night routine as normal as he can, hoping that the familiarity of it would rid his brain of these intense thoughts he's having. Of his brother and his friends and his miserable life. It doesn't really, but it's nice. 
He collapses on his bed thinking of nothing but Bakugou, partially because of the pain that was inflicted upon him by said man and partially because he thinks he's going insane. His brain must be fried to keep the image of his hand wrapped around Bakugou's neck on constant replay. 
His hand slowly travels down his pajama set, landing on the spot that's obviously hard and distracting. He's been fighting off his boner ever since Bakugou forced his hand around his neck and now it's demanding his immediate attention. 
He resigns himself to the fact that he has to take care of his problem and tries thinking of anything else. His favorite celebrity, a model he's seen on a few covers, the guy with the jet-black hair in his Economics class, literally anything. His strokes aren't getting him any closer, though and it's frustrating how his body jolts if an image of blonde hair even passes his mind. Blonde hair and fiery eyes, mean and glaring, tackling him into the ground, holding his body down and not letting up. 
"Fuck." He gasps, feeling his end approaching faster. 
And that voice. So raspy and irritating. Demanding. He's probably call him all sorts of names, things that could actually hurt his feelings as he wrapped himself around him. His hand moves faster at the thought. He's close.
"You wanna hurt me?"
Shouto whines, eyes watering from trying to hold himself together.
"You wanna hurt me?"
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
"Hurt me, princess."
He cums with an uncontrollable shout, hips jerking up from his bed into his hands. The aftershocks keep going and going, he pants into his pillow like a depraved whore. His face is wet with tears and he doesn't bother to wipe them away as he curdles in on himself and falls into the deepest sleep of his life. 
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rahleeyah · 2 years
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Hi! I've noticed how many svu fans come to you for advice/comfort. I've done it too, but I wonder if it feels weird being put in this position since you're really just a fan. Granted, a sensible fan with amazing talent, but still... Does it ever overwhelm you?
i really am just some girl lmao i never in a million years anticipated that when i started blogging about svu folks might want to stop in for a chat. but i have been, and continue to be, absolutely delighted by it! i love that people feel comfortable enough to come here and ask questions and share thoughts and i love being able to have these conversations with y'all.
i wouldn't say it gets overwhelming - i mean sometimes, like after the letter, there can be a deluge of asks and it's hard to get to them all in a reasonable time frame - but it feels like. idk it feels like a responsibility that matters to me. it matters to me that when i answer an ask i consider who's going to see it and how it might make them feel. it matters to me that i answer asks - and choose asks to answer - in a way that lines up with my beliefs. i believe in kindness, i believe in the community of fandom, and i believe in respect. and sometimes i'm petty, or reactionary, or having a moment, but i don't ever, ever wanna take that out on asks. sometimes i do. and when i do i know i just have to try to be better next time and hope y'all will bear with me. i'm a work in progress.
can i be real, though? it makes me feel good. every single time i see an ask i get excited. there are a lot of reasons why i might not answer an ask, but just because i don't answer doesn't mean i don't like it. and even if i don't answer it, i still saw it. those thoughts still made their way to me. and even if i don't answer - even if it's one of the few i don't like - it still makes me feel good to know that someone out there wanted to share something with me, or through me. i want to be that person, who can be a conduit for ideas, who can be trusted for conversations. i want to get asks.
and you take the good with the bad. a couple of asks that i don't love don't turn me off the idea of answering asks altogether; i can enforce my own boundaries. an ask is an invitation to a conversation and i can decline. i wanna keep the lines open, you know? bc so much beautiful, creative, thoughtful work has come out of these asks. they have been a point of connection, connecting me to all of you but also connecting y'all to each other. and i just think that's beautiful.
so i'm just grateful to y'all, really, for coming in here and keeping the conversation going. i'm grateful to y'all for wanting to share, and wanting to engage, and making this blog a place to do that. it's really, really special, and i love y'all for it.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
Text
What I Thought About "Eda's Requiem" from The Owl House
Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.
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...
...HOW IS SEASON TWO SO GOOD?! WE'VE HAD SEVEN EPISODES SO FAR, AND EACH ONE OF THEM WAS A HIT!
Take "Eda's Requiem," for example. It's yet another episode where I have NOTHING bad to say about it! That's two weeks in a row where that happened! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!
HOW!
HOW!
...But anyways, "Eda's Requiem." It's another fantastic episode, and I'm about to dive into explaining how and why. Just keep in mind, it's gonna require spoilers to do so, so be wary of that as you keep reading.
Now, let's review, shall we?
WHAT I LIKED
Eda’s Checklist and Grom Photo: Within the first second, "Eda's Requiem" perfectly sets up Eda's central conflict in the episode. Despite spending years being on her own and looking after herself, she now has two kids that she's constantly caring over. Eda can try all she wants to say that she doesn't care, and I bet she has in the past. But given the hard work she's putting into getting King and Luz what they need and having a grom photo of the three of them together pinned in her mirror, it's pretty clear that those two knuckleheads wormed their way into her heart and are never getting out.
Eda’s Worried About King and Luz Leaving: And thus, that's precisely why something like this bothers her so much. Eda inadvertently adopted two rambunctious rapscallions (Yeah, I know. I'll get to it), so the idea of them not being around her anymore is going to be terrifying. That is a situation most parents, especially mothers, can identify with. It’s called empty nest syndrome and it proves just how much Eda loves Luz and King that she can't stand the thought of her babies leaving the nest. It's yet another well-made, wholesome, found-family moment that this series continues to excel at each week, making me extra excited for more like it to come...while also readying myself for heartbreak when one of them eventually does leave Eda.
Eda and Raine’s Music: Ok, I don't know the exact instruments that were played during this episode, but I also don't care because it was all (for lack of a better term) music to my ears. Every time Eda and Raine played resulted in melodies that are so beautiful and filled with so much emotion and feeling that I'm honestly tempted to listen to them again, multiple times, on repeat. Shows rarely do that for me, as background music doesn't always draw me in as much as lyrical songs do. Usually, it takes something so extraordinarily composed to give me the desire to listen again, and that's the case here. So huge congrats to Brad Breek for doing so. Seriously, the man's been killing it this season.
Eda’s Bard Magic Causing Things to Turn to Ash: This was assuredly a surprise side-effect of the curse. The fact that Eda can sort of do magic at all was its own shock. To then reveal that a specific type can do dangerous things to people and environments is...Well, it definitely brings up its own fair share of questions. Like, how can she do this? Will she do it again, one day? And are there other types of spells that can be negatively affected by Eda's curse? We don't get answers for any of these questions, and odds are, we never will. But that's alright with me. Because if a show makes me consider these many possibilities after a brief amount of time, it is a show that has to be doing something right. Even if I don't get the answers I want, the fact that it caused such a reaction makes me less willing to care.
Raine Whispers: Hey, would you look at that. Another fun, interesting, and compelling character added to the list of this shows' other fun, interesting, and compelling characters...how is this series so good at this!?
Joking aside, Raine's pretty good. I like Raine. They could have been this super serious leader who lost all their fun after years apart from Eda, but I'm glad that they're not. There are moments when Raine takes their job as leader of the BATs seriously, as one would, but I still prefer the fact that they kept a jovial nature despite how grim their situation is. It's an admirable trait to have, and it avoids the trope of making leader characters boring just because they're the ones who have to take things seriously.
Oh, and also, Raine's Disney's first non-binary character who has a stake in the plot. This is a tremendous deal, as you don't usually see that many non-binary characters in children's animation, let alone ones that hold importance to the story. So it's pretty cool for the writers to feature Raine, as it helps several kids feel as though they're finally seen and respected. And the fact that Disney of all companies gave the thumbs up is even more impressive. I hear people say that Dana Terrace should have pitched The Owl House to more progressive networks to avoid pushback, and while I absolutely see your point, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Disney is the largest entertainment industry of all time, so if you want to make LGBTQA+ representation normalized, you gotta stop making splashes and start making waves. Because if the same company that made three racist cats in the span of a few years manages to say that being gay is a-ok, then you know there's something wrong with you. Yes, Disney ended up screwing over the show anyway. But for that one moment, when kids felt pride after seeing a character like Raine, then, in the end, it's kind of worth it.
Also, if you're still having issues with more representation like this popping up in kids' shows, then allow me to redirect you to the complaint department.
...I made that post earlier today for this bit. YOU HAVE BETTER APPRECIATED IT!
Day of Unity is meant to be a Secret: At least, that's what I got when Raine stumbled over their own words. So if it's true, then I wonder why? Why does Belos want to keep the most critical change in the Boiling Isles a secret? Does he want to make it a surprise for his grateful subjects, or does he not want to spread worry and fear amongst the wild witches? It has to be something big if he doesn't want his followers to even say the words "Day of Unity." Whatever reason he has, we most likely won't know until the future. A future that I grow more and more afraid of each week.
Hooty Eating Echo Mouse: My heart sank in that brief moment when I thought that Hooty intensely screwed Luz over in getting back home. But looking back...it is pretty funny.
Just the suddenness of Hooty eating the poor creature that Luz desperately tried to earn its trust is priceless in how shocking it was. And also, Luz's expression.
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That was the look of a young girl who immediately shoved her hand down an owl demon's throat the second the scene cut away. The Owl House may not always be a hit in the comedy department, but scenes like this prove that when it's funny, it is hilarious.
Luz and King Entering the Grand Prix: Not much to discuss here. It's just a cute subplot that adds frivolity to the intensity of what's going on through Eda and Raine's story. But I will say that I love how both stories occasionally interconnect with each other through the many moments of Eda being worried about King wanting to leave to find his father and avoiding any conversation about it. It helps both plotlines feel like they belong together, without being something like "Through the Looking Glass Ruins," whereas both stories could have been in their own episode. Which is neat.
How Bard Magic Works: I really love how this season is diving into how the other magic types work. More specifically, the ones that seem a little vague. I mean, stuff like healing, potions, and plants are easy to figure out, but what does it mean when a witch's talents are construction, beast keeping, and bard magic? We've been getting a lot of clearing up lately, with bard magic looking like a witch can control their environments and enemies through the power of music. Which is fair. Music is pretty powerful in the metaphorical sense, and I actually love that it's powerful in the literal sense when in the Boiling Isles.
The BATs: Not much to comment on these three either. The BATs have the potential to have an entertaining dynamic, but they do very little in this episode that I can't say much other than I hope they make a return in the future. But I will make this claim: Amber is my favorite. I'm sorry, but her screaming "You're not our mom!" to then go, "Bye, mommy Eda" is just too precious for me not to love.
I'm a simple man who falls for cute s**t. Leave me alone.
Raeda (RainexEda): Well, EdaxCamila, you were a fun crack ship while it lasted, but I'm afraid that this is now goodbye. The current canon has provided an incredibly adorable and believable relationship that I would be a monster not to support with my whole bi-heart. It's been real.
Ok, back in serious mode: I love these two together. Eda and Raine are grown-ups, and they still act all flustered near each other as if they were still Luz and Amity's age. It's definitive proof that you're never too old to get flustered near a crush, and seeing them interact adds a sense of wholesomeness when seeing them together as well as heartbreak when they're forced apart. Plus, we get confirmation that Eda's LGBTQA+! Whether she's bi, pan, or whatever, now that we know Eda can catch feelings for someone like Raine, it's yet another case that The Owl House is the most important series to the community. Because having the main character be queer is fantastic in its own right. But having the same apply to the motherly mentor figure? That's is an extra bit of normalization that anybody would be willing to appreciate.
Unique Guard Designs: Not many fans are going to appreciate this, primarily compared to everything else this episode does perfectly. For me, I actually like that you see a few Coven Guards looking differently from the others, as it helps make them less like clones and makes it seem like anybody of any body type could be a part of the coven.
Gus Looking Uninterested when Presenting Grand Prix with his Dad: I am positive that you didn't notice this (I didn't even notice it until someone else pointed it out), but there's something to dissect here. It hints that perhaps Gus isn't as interested in his father's field of work as one might think. If he did, he would look a lot less bored and much more excited to be helping Perry Porter present the race. It could just be the race itself, but judging from Gus' expression, it really seems like the kid would prefer to be anywhere but there. And why would he have that reaction to a race that his best friend is competing in? To me, this seems like an inkling of what Gus' relationship with Perry could be, which may not actually get time to shine, what with how little wiggle room the series has now (Thanks Disney). Regardless, it is interesting to notice, and it will certainly have fans thinking for a while.
Bump Being Smug of Luz Being in the Lead: That's it. Principal Bump looking smug as his human student is beating the students of his rivals is yet another moment that proves why Bump is easily the best cartoon principal.
Darius: First of all, this guy is f**king fabulous, and I love him. *Snaps*
Second, he is definitive proof that you do NOT want to f**k around with Coven Leaders. Lilith may have had her intimidating moments, but none of them compare to the guy who can turn himself into an abomination monster where only magic that hasn't existed before can take him down. It's genuinely scary to see Darius lose control, and I fear for the day when Luz inevitably ends up in his crosshairs.
With that said, Darius' still a ton of fun! He may be threatening, but he's just a flamboyant guy that hates the idea of getting his outfit the tiniest bit dirty. And I love that. I love that these Coven Heads have actual personalities instead of being generically evil. I consider it preferable to make villains entertaining rather than blatantly scary as I'll remember the personalities first and the villainous acts last.
Eberwolf: But this one's my favorite. I told you: I'm a simple man who gets easily swayed by cute s**t. And Eber? I mean, just look at her:
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She's just a cute widdle rascal! I just want to pinch her cheeks, give her a belly rub, and--
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...Eberwolf is not a cute widdle rascal. She is a strong, independent woman, and I will respect her as such from this moment forward...lest I feel her wrath.
That is all. Let's move on.
Eda and Raine Attempting a Final Performance: This was the best scene of the episode. It looked gorgeous, it shows the dedication Eda and Raine have for stopping Belos, and it says so much through so little. Go back and look at how Eda and Raine regard one another when performing Eda's requiem. Through their expressions and a few short words, you know they understand that if they complete the song/spell, they probably won't make it in the end. And yet, they don't care. They both know bad stuff will happen if Belos wins, so Eda and Raine put everything to the side, both their feelings for one another and the people they leave behind if it means putting an end to a tyrant. That level of dedication...Words can't fully describe how powerful that is.
Raine Sacrificing Themselves Instead: But in the end, Raine can't do it. Not when they know the life that Eda has and the people she'll be leaving behind. It's an extra bit of nobleness to the character seeing that Raine refuses to take away a woman from two kids who need her the most. A tad bit selfish, sure, knowing what Belos has planned. But when it comes to love, the romantic, familial, or platonic, the best decisions aren't always the logical ones.
Eda Crying: Luz crying tears me up, but seeing Eda cry is a whole different level of heartbreak. Like Lilith, Eda has her emotions locked up tight, with the closest she came to weeping were those two tears in "Young Blood, Old Souls." In "Eda's Requiem," she cries but almost quickly stops herself. As if she knows that doing so isn't going to save Raine. That is...even worse than seeing Luz break down after losing Eda. The fact that Eda refuses to give herself time to mourn losing someone she loved is tragic because crying is the most natural way of showing grief. Turning that off isn't healthy, and seeing her do it with little resistance is sad to me. It's sad to see a character I love can easily shut off all emotions despite how badly she may want to embrace them. It's one of those moments that, again, by doing so little, it shows so much.
“No one watches Crystal Balls anymore. It’s all about streaming.”: Oof. Even I felt that burn towards cable.
King’s Message: King's message was the pick-me-up I needed after the heart-wrenching sadness this episode put me through a few minutes ago. Seeing King say who he is and listing all the things he loves is nothing short of adorable. On top of that, I adore that Eda willingly recorded the whole thing. She may not want King to leave, but that doesn't mean she'll sabotage the one thing he wants. Especially not after Raine gave up everything so Eda could be with her kids. The opening scene may prove how much Eda cares about a rascal like King, but this heartwarmingly sweet moment reveals just how far she'll go to make him happy.
King’s Dad Reveal: ...ok, I'll be honest, I did not think we'd get that reveal this soon. Dumb of me to say, considering the number of times I've said that these writers don't waste time getting to the s**t, I know. But still, it's pretty cool knowing that King's dad is alive and well, added with the fact that we've got a fair idea of what he looks like. At this point, it's only a matter of time before we see him figure out where the Clawthorne residence is and witness the tear-jerking moments that will follow.
King Changing his Name to King Clawthorne: Not the official adoption I was expecting Eda to make...but DANG IT, is it still diabetes-inducing levels of sweetness!
Personally, I feel like the main reason why Eda breaks down this time is not only because she shouldn't be worried about King leaving her life, but also because Raine's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Her kids really do need Eda because no matter how far apart they'll be, she will always be a part of their life...dang it, I'm going to cry too!
What those Coven patches really do: Well...that was horrifying to see.
...Writers, if you kill off the best non-binary character in animation (it's a short list, I know), we are going to have PROBLEMS!
IN CONCLUSION
"Eda's Requiem" is--surprise surprise--another A+. The emotions hit hard, the representation hits harder, Raine is a fantastic addition to the cast, and it was all surprisingly cute at times. Season Two is currently on a hot streak, constantly winning with every episode that's come out so far. When a bad episode does eventually show up (IT'S GONNA HAPPEN!), I'll be sure to sing my requiem then. For now, I'm just gonna enjoy the ride.
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killian-spey · 3 years
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Death Would Be Kinder [Prologue]
Next Ch.
[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]
Words: 1591
Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad.
TW/CW: violence
AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. It's a tad different from the original concept, but I just had so much fun with it! (Planned to be somewhere between 5-10 parts.)
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It was Buffy’s 17th birthday today, but the mood seemed too heavy in the car for any giggling between the two of you. Truth be told, you both had a lot on your minds; not that you would have actually told her anything about your problems. You were staring out the window, picking absently at some dried paint on your arm; you never were able to master being tidy while you painted. Your older sister, Jenny, was driving the two of you to The Bronze, where the rest of the group was lying in wait to surprise her with a birthday bash. You made eye contact with her when she looked through the rear view at you, and you could tell she was just as worried as you were about recent developments.
Your Uncle had come into town recently and berated the two of you for letting Buffy and Angel get so close. Unfortunately for you and Jenny, if something didn't change quickly, Angel could lose his soul. All the work of your ancestors taken to curse him would be undone, and there would be no way to fix it. It's not that you wanted Angel to be unhappy, but the vengeance curse against Angel was not only important to your people, but possibly the thing that kept him from being a monster. If anything jeopardized that, it would crush Buffy and the gang. You didn't want to let anyone down.
Jenny pulled into the side street -having arrived at The Bronze- and you undid your seat belt. Before you could open your door, Buffy pulled your hand away from the handle.
“This looks funky, stop for a sec.”
You and Jenny both squinted, trying to see what she was even talking about. It took you both a moment, but sure enough there were two vamps clambering around on a truck in the shadows. Jenny tried to talk Buffy out of fighting them, but she left anyway. Something about destiny and all that. You were just impressed she could see that well in the dark.
Watching Buffy fight the vamps left you wincing, pitying the undead for having to go through such a beat down. You hung on the edge of your seat and leaned on the passenger seat in front of you. The two of you left in the vehicle hadn't had a chance to talk in private since Uncle had spilled the beans on the Angel problem.
“What are we going to do about the curse, Jenny?”
She made a face and shook her head, she didn't know what to do either. She knew more about the curse than you did -magic was never your strong suit- and if she didn't know, you both were stuck.
“If only there was a way to separate them.” You were spit-balling.
“Right, and how do you suggest we do that?”
She had a point, Buffy and Angel had been practically attached at the hip recently. You opened your mouth to speak, but paused as Buffy tossed the last vamp through a window into The Bronze. You and Jenny both made reactionary sounds that could only be summed up as “Yikes noises” and scrambled out of the car. Buffy hopped through the broken window and you both inspected the window. Jenny picked up a crate one of the vamps had been carrying and carried it inside.
After some pleasantries and some “Yeah, sorry! Vampires exist” talk with Oz, the group crowded around the mystery box. It was no secret that those vamps were Spike’s men, so whatever it was, it was definitely not good.
Your worry was confirmed when an arm shot out of the box, strangling Buffy before she and Angel managed to rip it away from her throat. According to Angel, it was the arm of The Judge. That meant Spike was building a one-man-apocalypse like some kind of demonic Lego figurine.
You glanced at Jenny, trying to communicate your plan silently as you addressed the group. “Someone has to take this thing as far away from here as possible- separate it from the other pieces.”
Jenny was quick, immediately understanding your idea.
“Angel, it has to be you. You're the only one who can protect this thing.”
It took a little convincing, but a plan was soon agreed on. You and Jenny shared a “Thank God” glance, secretly pleased that Angel and Buffy would be separated, at least temporarily. You could rest easy in the fact that Angelus wouldn't be loosed on the world in a freak accident of soul-losing proportions.
Or so you thought...
A couple hours later, you were back in the library doing research. Angel and Buffy had lost the box, and had everyone regroup to study up on The Judge.
To be entirely honest, you were doodling in your notes. Every text on The Judge said exactly the same thing, sometimes even verbatim. The Judge cannot be killed by any weapon forged by Man. It was exhausting!
Luckily for you, Buffy decided to break up the research with some good old fashioned recon, and Jenny suggested you go with them. Buffy was about to protest, but you cut her off.
“With the exception of you supernatural folks, I do have the best track record of holding my own. No offense, guys,” Xander seemed less than pleased with your not-so-subtle brag, but you continued anyway. “And, I’d be able to map parts of the facility super quick and easy. We’ll need that info if we plan on making a move.”
Reluctantly, Buffy and Angel agreed to take you with them and you snatched your notepad and pencil from the table, glad to be free from the texts and tomes… Even if it meant putting you in direct danger. You briefly wondered if maybe you shouldn't see a therapist about that someday, but shrugged it off as the three of you left the building.
---
Upon reaching the factory, the three of you climbed the fire escape and ducked into a broken, old window over a set of rafters. You had already begun sketching the layout of the rooms as you took in the sights below. It looked like some kind of party, to be plain. Vamps were crawling all throughout the place, a crystal bowl of what looked like punch rested on a table covered with cups in the middle of the warehouse space, and tall lattice-backed chairs were loosely strewn around a banquet table. You and Buffy creeper ahead on the grate walkway above it all. Your eyes were locked on the party, but you could assume Angel was following behind; he was too quiet for you to hear.
Your eyes fell on Spike, he was in a wheelchair. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite his weakened state, talking to someone just out of your line of sight. Not a second later, you saw Drusilla dancing her way across the floor, swaying to her own beat and sweeping the red chiffon ribbons of her dress through the air. Buffy gasped softly, but you didn't see whatever she'd seen.
“That's him. The Judge,” Angel whispered from behind you both and pointed.
You saw him, just as he craned his ugly blue head up to spot the three of you gawking. Fuck.
You spun to face the window, finding two vamps in the way of your escape. Buffy and Angel had flanked you from both sides, but fighting this many vamps was completely futile. Before long, the three of you were dragged in front of Spike, Drusilla and The Judge. Spike rolled his chair forward to get a better look at Buffy.
“Well, Well- look what we have here! Crashers.”
“I'm sure our Invitations just got lost in the mail,”
You almost rolled your eyes at Buffy’s one-liner. How she managed wise-cracks at a time like this was beyond you. Ignoring the monologues, your eyes darted around in search for an escape method. Nothing came to mind, but when you turned back into the conversation, Drusilla’s eyes had locked with yours.
She was ever so slightly swaying to music you couldn't hear and your eyes followed her intently. She raised two fingers, pointed at each of your eyes and gestured to her own. She beckoned you. She was enchanting. Beautiful. She was- she broke contact as Buffy suddenly made a move and you took a second to follow suit, twisting out of a vamp’s hold and knocking him -and accidentally yourself- off balance. You were suddenly unsure of your footing, almost groggy as you fought.
Angel pulled a chain, crashing a pile of video monitors you hadn't noticed down from their perch onto The Judge. The three of you scattered. You ducked behind some crates and heard Drusilla call for the lackeys to chase. You spotted Angel and Buffy slipping into a sewer drain and psyched yourself up to book it twenty feet to get there to join them. You took one last look behind the crates -Drusilla locked eyes with you- and you booked it, not entertaining her gaze this time.
As you dropped down the sewer drain, you caught a glimpse of her, just staring at you. You scanned both directions of the sewer system, but found no trace of Buffy or Angel. In a split second you picked a direction and ran. You didn't stop running. Not for breath, not to look behind you, and certainly not to entertain the nagging memory of Drusilla’s eyes, staring into your soul as they'd done just minutes ago.
Read Next Ch.
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taesramenhair · 3 years
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Set Me Free [MYG]
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The abbey has been a constant in Yoongi’s life: his home, his school, his workplace. Now it’s burning, pillaged by invaders - and it’s up to him to keep their relic safe. The strange man he meets at the high altar doesn’t seem to understand that, but he does understand staying out of harm's way.
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word count: 5.7k // genre + rating: SFW (12)
warnings/tags etc: violence, injury, minor character death (unnamed characters), mention of corporal punishment, some Not Nice People, as you might have guessed - angst with a happy ending, monk!Yoongi (sort of), vague middle ages AU, religious imagery, religious references, mainly ft. Jimin but the others have a cameo at the end too. [This is my first fic so I'm not used to tagging - please, please tell me if I've missed something important!]
Masterlist
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Yoongi never thought he’d be grateful for a childhood spent chasing chickens, but here he was. With the wind snarling around his reddened ears and loose pebbles rolling under his feet, he was immensely thankful that he’d always been given the outdoor duties. At the time, he’d hated it, of course, but it had built his stamina - and if there’s one thing you need when fleeing up a mountain, chased by murderous bandits, it’s the ability to run.
Not that he was going that fast anymore. The terrain was difficult, path narrow and winding, and the cut on his arm was distractingly painful. It wasn’t bleeding so much now, thankfully, but it throbbed with every beat of his worn-down sandals against the dusty rock. His one advantage over his pursuers was that he knew this path well and they didn’t. He had gained a lead on them in the twisting corridors of the abbey – his abbey, now nothing more than hollowed, blackened stone burning violently in the valley below – and left them scrabbling foolishly in the dense foliage at the base of the mountain. It wouldn’t be long before they made their way through, though, and he had to reach the top first. He had to make it to the altar.
A misjudged footfall coming around the last corner slid Yoongi into the floor, landing heavily on his left shoulder as the strap of his sandal broke apart. Every ache in his body rose now that he wasn’t moving, screaming up towards the bright midday sky even as he forced himself to let out nothing louder than a pained groan. He couldn’t let them know anything was wrong. Let them think he was safe. Let them think he was long gone.
Testing his shoulder with a gentle roll – ah, painful – the young acolyte turned onto his knees and rose shakily. The broken sandal was all but useless, barely staying on his foot as he stepped forward. This high on the mountain, though, the ground was harsh and stony, the only foliage being the flowering apple tree next to the altar Yoongi couldn’t yet see but knew was just over the next rise. He’d have to hobble to keep the shoe on but it was preferable to tearing the sole of his foot on jagged stones. If only he hadn’t given his best shoes as an offering, he thought bitterly – and then instantly chastised himself. The gods had ben pleased with that offering, had taken it quickly and sent plentiful rains in response. It had been a worthwhile sacrifice, even if he was now struggling to reach sanctuary.
A noise below told him the bandits had broken through the tree cover already. They were gaining on him. He hobbled faster.
No one had expected an attack that day. Yoongi had been by the stream when it started, bathing his battered hands in the cool waters, breathing in the dews of the spring day and hoping they would sweeten his tears.
(It had been his turn to watch the blessed fire, but he had been sick all week and the abbot had caught him sleeping at his post. The welts of his punishment would linger for a few days: they always did.)
Hearing the tower bells had pulled Yoongi from his mournful reverie – it was not yet dawn, and those bells should not have been ringing. Something was terribly wrong.
Cold grey stone was already dripping red warmth by the time Yoongi reached the doors to the place he had called home since his seventh winter. Prayerful silence had given way to terrible screams, like the great oaken entrance had buckled beneath the force of the invaders’ battering. Centuries of monastic tradition was no match for the terror of a freshly forged blade baptising itself in the blood of the aged brothers, it would seem.
He could have run there and then, abandoned it all to its inevitable oblivion and fled towards the slowly rising sun. There were things he had grown to value there, though, lessons that had been drummed into him by chant and fast and blood. To run with no attempt at saving the abbey’s great treasure would be an insult to the gods too grave to contemplate. Sure, he would survive – but it would not be a life worth having, cursed to his final breath.
So he had waded through the wails of his brothers, the dying agony of those who had raised and formed him, taking the hidden passages to reach the inner sanctum before the newcomers did. They seemed to plunder aimlessly, unaware that there was only one prize worth having within the abbey walls, more valuable than the golden triptychs or the silver-wrought chalices. For the blessed fire – the one Yoongi had been punished so harshly for failing to attend – burned to light the presence of a great relic: a priceless stone that betokened the favour of the gods. That favour had passed now from the vaulted corridors of the abbey it had settled on for centuries, that much was clear. Even so, as Yoongi crawled past the death-closed eyes of the kind, wizened man he had once playfully addressed as halabeoji, he knew the stone must be preserved and taken to the high altar until the gods chose to bestow it anew. If he could just get it there, he could beg their protection in return – he could beg preservation from the terrible fate that had fallen out around him.
Now, finally dragging his trembling limbs over the last mound, Yoongi saw the goal he had been fighting towards since daybreak. Half-shrouded in bruised blossoms from the apple tree stretching lazily by its side, the high altar basked in afternoon sunshine, dark stone glistening where droplets from the nearby waterfall had lost their way. He had seen it many times, in all weathers – sent far up the mountain in deepest winter to offer penance for a drifting mind; honoured to represent the community in late summer and give thanks for a bountiful harvest. Always the end of his journey and always a place of refuge. Looking at it, he could almost forget about the horrors he had seen. It was almost relaxing.
Only almost, though. Not only was he aware of the toll his journey had taken – not to mention the danger still snapping at his blistered heels – but when Yoongi looked at the altar today, he saw something he had never seen there before.
A young man – small, lithe, delicate – was sitting on the altar, back against the sacred tree. He was a vision in the dappled light, so beautiful next to Yoongi’s swollen eyes, bloodied robes and dusty feet. Looks were deceiving, though, and apparently Yoongi was to add another sacrilege to the list of crimes committed against everything he held dear. The man, damn him, was eating the offerings left upon the altar for the gods. Had he had more energy, Yoongi could have burst into tears at the sight.
“What are you doing?” he cried, voice cracking and distraught. “Get off! Go away! Those are offerings, we need them! I – please. I need the gods’ favour. Go away!” The boy did little more than blink at Yoongi and tilt his head slowly to the left. A child-like hand raised a flask of blessed water – blessed water – to full, pink lips and Yoongi choked on air, disbelieving.
“There are no gods here, silly.” A soft, high voice came from the young man, sure and unconcerned. “Only me.”
Angry tears did slip from Yoongi’s eyes then. How dare this – this boy say such things? Yoongi had not endured the destruction of his home for some spoiled brat to anger the gods and leave him defenceless and a failure. Marching towards the altar, he bowed quickly and muttered an apology to the tree before taking a firm grasp of the boy’s black hair and yanking him down unceremoniously, heedless of the responding cry.
“I am the last acolyte of the abbey and I will not have you defile this altar and the offerings left to our gods.” His speech would have more impact if he weren’t gasping through tears and physically shaking, but Yoongi was doing his best. “We have been beaten and burned and murdered today and I am here to return the stone of favour to the gods for safekeeping and beg their protection from the evil that has pursued me all day and you – how dare you treat this place with so little respect?” Wide eyes and a soft pout looked up at him from the ground, the boy not having moved from where Yoongi had thrown him. He realised that the ground was still harsh here and felt a little bad – even if he was a sacrilegious blasphemer, this boy seemed a couple of years younger than Yoongi and the fall must have hurt him. Still, there were more pressing matters at hand. Yoongi did his best to rearrange the remaining gifts on the altar (so few, the boy must taken so much of it, the gods would be displeased) and placed the stone carefully in the centre before dropping stiffly to his knees. Wiping his tears and bowing his head to the ground, he muttered out a series of chants and then sat back on his heels, chin lifted to the skies and streaming eyes closed against the light.
“Great gods above, hear my call,” he declared, loudly as his ragged throat allowed him. “We know not why you have withdrawn your blessing from us. We thank you for having granted it at all, for letting us live such charmed lives for you for many years. We return now your stone. Please retain your grace in it and bestow it anew upon others. Do not abandon us all, oh great ones. Hear me when I call to you, worthless as I am. Do not forget us all.” His voice faltered and Yoongi tipped his head forward again, barely managing a whisper. “I ask your protection. Please. I know I have not served you perfectly, but I have tried so hard. I wanted to please you. I want to deserve your favour. You’ve always answered me so graciously – and I know better servants have died horribly today, but please. I don’t want to die. Protect me.” The thunderous footsteps of the bandits started to reach his ears and Yoongi gasped, pressing his face desperately to the ground once more. A soft noise behind him reminded him he was not alone and he spoke again. “Protect us both.”
For a few moments there was silence, and then Yoongi heard the stones to his left shifting quickly, as though someone were running towards him. He tensed, still bowing before the altar and praying that somehow the gods would protect him. A pair of hands grabbed his upper arms and pulled, and he couldn’t help but let out a sob. He knew he had never deserved anything from the gods, but he had hoped so dearly that they would spare him.
“It’s just me, acolyte, get up.” The words filtered through his distress like thick cream through muslin, slow and awkward. He couldn’t quite grasp them. “We have to go, now.”
“Can’t,” he stuttered out, managing to open his eyes and twist away from the young man’s grip, crawling back towards the altar. “I have to be here. The gods –“
“The gods won’t help you.” Though his words were harsh, the man looked concerned, reaching a hand out towards Yoongi again imploringly. “Let me help you, please. Come with me. They’re close now: we have to go.” Yoongi knew he was telling the truth – he could hear voices as well as footsteps now, could almost hear the singing of the blades he knew the bandits were carrying. But he couldn’t leave the altar – could he? It had always been his safety and it was the last remains of his abbey – his faith. He had run this far for the gods. If he ran further, for himself, did that make him a coward? Would he have betrayed them all? Would he prove himself as unworthy as the abbot had always told him he was? Teary-eyed and shaking, he set his mouth and looked the young man right in the eye.
“Save yourself if you can. I cannot leave.” It had the desired effect. The man nodded curtly, stood and began to leave, pausing by the altar as he did so.
“Fine,” he called back. “But I’m taking the rest of this food with me. No point letting it go to waste. This stone is pretty, too. I don’t know about it being blessed or anything, but I think I’ll take it.” Sure enough, he picked it up, tossed it in the air and pocketed it with a stunning smile that all but closed his eyes. Then, he started simply sauntering away, all sense of urgency gone.
He’s baiting me, Yoongi thought. He hadn’t managed to convince him to leave on his own, so he was taking the stone like some sort of carrot, hoping Yoongi, like a donkey, would follow. Yoongi half wanted to be stubborn, to sit there and die like a fool just to prove that he had a stronger will than this brattish stranger presumed. The louder part of him, however, was relieved at having been given permission to abandon the altar, a reason beyond self-preservation to stand up and follow him to safety. He couldn’t leave the stone of favour in the hands of someone with so little respect that he would lean against a sacred tree and eat the gods’ offerings with his feet on their altar. Impossible. It was his sacred duty to stagger up and stumble after him, calling chastisements as loudly as he dared and trying to match pace when the stranger sped up, leading him around the corner from the altar to a hidden path he had never thought to look for.
The altar was at the top of the mountain path – Yoongi had never considered that there might be other paths down beyond it. It was the destination, the end of the line. Going further just wasn’t something he’d ever considered, and that this man was leading him like it was second nature was the last straw for him. Lost in a haze, he followed wordlessly, almost blindly, the ache of his arms and his legs and his feet whispering somewhere but barely decipherable through the thick fog of his mind. At some point they entered a dark tunnel and the young man took his hand gently, perhaps aware of how feeble Yoongi’s grip on awareness was. Between the soft touch and the pressing darkness around him, Yoongi let himself go.
Waking up again was a far less pleasant experience than drifting off had been. It wasn’t a slow rise to the surface, lazy and comfortable like waking to a summer dawn – it was a sudden dive from absolute nothingness into decided somethingness. All at once Yoongi was aware again of the stiffness in his calves and the ache of his arm; the throb of his head from a week of sickness, a lack of sleep and the dehydration of having cried his frustrations out on the mountaintop. The fog lifted and he sat up quickly, huffing softly through his nose as the movement made his stomach lurch and his vision swim. He could remember being annoyed at a bright smile, and fluffy, black hair disappearing into a tunnel – and the stone! Right, yes. Dangerous bandits, bratty stranger, following the stone. That’s what had happened.
“There’s some water next to you – you should drink it,” he heard the stranger say from somewhere off to his right. Yoongi glanced around him, twisting on the bed roll laid out in his corner of what seemed to be a small, wooden room. Sure enough, there was a whole pitcher of water beside him. After a few seconds of blinking at the floor failed to magic a cup into existence, Yoongi picked it up and hesitantly tilted it against his lips. The water was lukewarm and hardly counted as refreshing, but he hadn’t had anything to drink since the abbot had woken him before, well, everything and his throat was grateful to be soothed.
“What did you do with the stone?” Even after a few mouthfuls of water, his voice was deep and gruffer than he had meant it to be. The stranger just giggled and Yoongi managed to make out his shape in the low light, sitting against the opposite wall.
“Don’t worry, acolyte. It’s safe here. I’ll give it to you in the morning, if you like.” Yoongi grumbled and the stranger laughed again. “You know, you were cute when you were half asleep. All whiny, like a kitten.”
“I’m not a kitten.” (He had a vague notion that his mother used to call him that. He hadn’t seen her for years, not since she had given him away in the hope of pleasing the gods and bringing a good harvest. Maybe he had dreamed it up. He certainly hadn't had a nickname since joining the abbey.)
“Who are you, then?” The question took Yoongi by surprise and he cleared his throat as he shifted back a little, resting against the wall behind him and drawing his knees painfully up. From the feel of the fabric under his fingertips, he was still in his robes from earlier and whilst he was relieved that the stranger had not undressed him, he desperately wanted to be clean. He wondered whether there was any chance of getting a bath, just soaking in hot water and letting it steam away everything that had happened. Probably not.
“Yoongi,” he said shortly. “Who’re you?”
“My name’s Jimin. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.” Yoongi didn’t like where this was going.
“Hyung!”
“No.” He thought he could see a flicker of a pout and was glad of the cover of darkness. Living around older monks meant he hadn’t really been exposed to much cuteness – he hadn’t been anyone’s hyung ever– so he didn’t think he’d be able to hold out against it. At least if he couldn’t see this Jimin’s face, the only thing he had to resist was the whining that started up immediately.
“I saved your life, let me call you hyung!”
“You desecrated my altar!”
“I told you, Yoongi-hyung, there are no gods here! If the altar’s not really sacred, how can I have desecrated it?” That stung worse than the other injuries vying for Yoongi’s attention. He had devoted his life to serving the gods. It was all he had known. He had put up with long nights and early mornings for years, allowed the other monks to literally beat him into shape, all in the hope that it would appease some deity with the power to improve people’s lives - and now this clueless boy wanted to tear it all into pieces.
“There are gods, Jimin-ssi. We have left them offerings for centuries, and they have always taken them and given what we asked for in return.” He thought he heard a snort, and it was his turn to pout.
“Like what, hyung? When have the gods taken something and given something in return? How would that even work?” Yoongi didn’t have to think.
“Last autumn. The rains were late so the farmers were worried the fruits wouldn’t ripen properly and they would have to feed their livestock from reserves, which might mean they would run out before the frosts ended. I’d been working on a new pair of sturdy boots all year because mine had fallen to pieces, but we needed an offering, so I brought them up to the altar and left them there. Two days later, the rains started, and the boots were gone. We gave the boots; they gave the rains.” He sounded smug. He knew he sounded smug, but he also knew he was right. Traditions existed for a reason, and the abbey existed because it worked. It helped. The monks prayed and trekked up the mountain to offer sacrifices because the gods listened to them and protected their people. Or at least, they used to.
“Oh.” There was the sound of shuffling across the room, and then a hiss as a flame was struck. Yoongi blinked blearily as Jimin lit a candle, picked something up from the floor and shuffled over, nearly tripping on the long, woven blanket he had wrapped around his narrow shoulders. “Um, Yoongi-ssi – those boots, they, um. Well. They didn’t look like this, did they?” Kneeling next to Yoongi’s bed roll, Jimin lifted the candle and proffered a muddy pair of boots with his other hand. Slightly crooked teeth worried his lip as he waited for the acolyte to respond. Yoongi took the boots reluctantly, fingering over the caked mud and peering closely. He couldn’t see much, in truth – and he had only ever felt his boots when they were brand new, unworn. His fingertips didn’t recognise these ones, leather both soft with wear and rugged from the elements. Guiding Jimin’s hand closer to gain more light, he turned them over and picked at the dirt dried into the arch.
“You’re terrible at looking after boots,” he muttered as a large clump came away in his hand, revealing the sole. Jimin didn’t respond. The last bit of mud fell to the floor and Yoongi coughed on a harsh sob. There, tucked next to the heel, was the mark Yoongi put on all his things.
“I’m so sorry,” Jimin whispered as Yoongi’s eyes drifted blankly to the wall beside him. “I didn’t realise you had offered them up. I always – ever since I was tiny, there have always been things there and we always took them, so I thought they were meant for us. I thought you all knew we were taking them. I thought you were looking after us.”
“You’ve been taking the offerings for years?” Maybe if he asked the question quietly enough, the answer would be different. It wasn’t.
“All my life. Yoongi-ssi, I’m so sorry. My parents showed me and when they were gone - I guess I didn't think about it. I didn’t know it meant anything until you shouted at me earlier, and then I thought you were just being… I don’t know. Sanctimonious?” Yoongi huffed, still not looking at the younger man.
“Big word.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry it wasn’t what you thought – but those offerings didn’t go to waste. We’d have died here without them.” A silence stretched tensely between them, Jimin left without words to explain himself and Yoongi winded by how abruptly his world was turning itself inside out. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that he had lost everything that had ever been familiar to him. He also had to have his faith shaken and his understanding of how the world worked ripped out from under him. There was only really one thing to do.
“I’m going to sleep,” he mumbled, curling up to face the wall even though it meant lying on his wrenched shoulder. Behind him, he heard Jimin place the candle on the ground and move the boots – his boots? Yoongi’s boots? it didn’t matter anymore – away.
“Hyung,” came the soft voice again as a small hand reached over his hunched shoulder, “here. I think you should keep this. We can talk again in the morning.” Firm fingers prised Yoongi’s hand away from his side and pressed something cool and round into his palm. The stone, he thought. There is still the stone. He fell asleep with it pressed against his chest, safe.
They didn’t speak the next day. In fact, Yoongi gave Jimin the silent treatment for three weeks, only staying with him because the heavens opened during the night and refused to close again for long enough to allow Yoongi to even hope to venture off the mountainside. He didn’t have anywhere to go in any case – and whilst he was furious with Jimin and completely lost without his routine and the guidance of the other monks, he knew being somewhere warm and dry, with a reliable source of food and someone to offer to massage his aching shoulder was better than dying in a ditch somewhere from stubbornness.
(He never accepted the massage offers, of course, but it felt nice to know that someone cared enough to ask.)
When the rains finally cleared, Yoongi had Jimin show him the way back up to the altar. The blossom was all gone now, flushed away by the rain, but the leaves were strong and the waterfall babbled happily. Yoongi didn’t think the tree would fruit this year, since the flowers hadn’t had time to set before the storms, but it still stood. The altar still stood. That was something.
Sitting on the edge of the mountain, he could see the charred ruins of his home below – joined now by more ruins to the west. Though they hadn’t found him, the group who had attacked the abbey had travelled back down the mountain and continued their rampage, working through the nearby villages and taking what they could. Bright sunshine was no remedy for such heaviness, and Yoongi felt his face crumple watching the birds fly down towards the blackened remains of thriving communities. Maybe Jimin was right and there never were gods – maybe it was better that way. To think that they had been abandoned to such death and ruin hurt more than believing they had never been blessed by anything more than good chance in the first place.
“Hey, hyung – look!” Jimin called excitedly from the waterfall, oblivious to the destruction right below him. Jimin, it turned out, had never really come down off the mountain. His parents had retreated to a small cabin in a hidden glade after a particularly nasty feud with a distant cousin, and he had been raised in near solitude. He knew about the villages, of course, but he had never been to one. Their loss was a sad idea to him, but no more than that. Flowering daisies were all it took to distract him, and he sought to do the same for Yoongi, even if he was ignored.
“Hey, Grumpy-hyung! I saved your life, you know, you can at least pretend to be interested when I try to show you the finer beauties of this world!” A thought struck Yoongi, finally back in the place where he had thought for certain his life would end. It hit him hard enough to make him gasp, head tilting up to the sky so quickly that Jimin forgot his flowers and came rushing to see what the matter was.
“You’re wrong!” he declared as soon as Jimin settled beside him, before the younger boy had even spoken. “You’re wrong.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking about daisies.”
“There are gods.” Yoongi brought his chin down again and looked at Jimin straight, eyes still red from his tears but perfectly sure. “You said there weren’t gods. There are.”
“Um. Ok.”
“There are. I asked them for their protection and they protected me.” Jimin’s brow crinkled a little and his eyes followed Yoongi’s movement as he stood and paced to the altar, one hand reaching out gently to touch the bark of the apple tree.
“I mean, not to be pedantic, but I protected you, hyung.”
“Sure.” Yoongi had never admitted that before, no matter how much Jimin wheedled for acknowledgment. He figured either this was a minor miracle or the pressure had finally cracked him. “I’ve been coming up here for fifteen years, Jimin-ah. All times of day, all seasons, all weathers. I’ve never seen you. None of us have. And then the one day I need someone to be here, when I’m being chased and I’m completely alone for the first time in my life - you’re just sitting on the altar." For the first time, Jimin saw Yoongi smile – a bright, full-toothed, gummy thing that lit up his eyes and transformed his face. “Like an offering. We gave them offerings, they gave them to you – and then they gave you back to me.” When Yoongi chuckled and leant against the tree, Jimin couldn’t help but giggle as well.
“I don’t think that’s compelling theology, hyung, but if it makes you happy, you go ahead and think that.”
“Just admit it, Jimin-ah. You’re wrong. The gods exist and they’re here and they care and we’re going to be alright. Just you wait.”
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It had taken two years for the invaders to take everything they could from the land, and three more for life to start again once they abandoned it to decay. Now, though, from his rock on top of the mountain Yoongi could see white smoke rising from chimneys once more, could follow the path of trundling carts along the roads between each growing settlement. He had taken Jimin down there a few times, to see how the people lived and to do what he could to help them. Although the abbey and the men who had raised him were gone, the skills he had learned remained and he had a lot to offer. If in time it meant he could earn a little money and make life a bit easier, that was a blessing too.
Life with Jimin had taken some time to adjust to. He had considered leaving after his revelation, heading north in the hopes of finding a new monastery and enfolding himself once more in the familiarity of an ordered life. He'd got as far as packing a small bag of food and reclaiming his boots from Jimin. When he had put them on to leave, though, it had all felt wrong. Officially, the boots had worn to Jimin's feet already and Yoongi refused to make a long journey in uncomfortable shoes. Jimin had accepted that excuse without fuss, thrilled to keep his companion, but they both knew that wasn't the real reason. After all, Jimin had watched Yoongi stumble into a mountain clearing with a sword wound on his arm, a dislocated shoulder and a broken sandal all for the sake of a small stone. Uncomfortable boots were hardly going to stop him leaving if he really wanted to.
For whatever reason, he had elected to stay, to learn how to live with just one person for company and without orders and punishments and bells to mark his day. Chasing chickens was also useful for catching rabbits, it turned out, and he taught Jimin the skills he needed to find food now that there weren't regular offerings to pilfer. Jimin taught him to dance, and sang real songs to him. He taught him to laugh again, and if anyone were to suggest they be parted now, he would probably growl at them and pull his dongsaeng behind him for protection.
The altar would always be special to him. When the weather was good, Jimin would often find him up there long past dark, listening to the waterfall or leaning against the tree. One autumn, he even convinced him to sit up on the altar itself.
("Hyung," he had whined, "don't leave me up here alone. If the gods didn't like it, they would have struck me down years ago. Live a little."
"Brat," Yoongi had muttered in reply, hiding his smile even as he climbed up onto the stone. Since he was yet to be blasted to smithereens, he figured he was alright to keep doing it.)
It was there that he was sat the day the monks returned to the mountain. The afternoon sunshine was lazy, winding its way through the apple tree's branches and kissing its growing fruit softly. Yoongi had brought a cushion and was leaned back against the tree trunk, legs stretched out across the altar and mind drifting when an outraged shout made him open one eye and smirk.
"Yah!" a tall stranger exclaimed, pulling his robes up with one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other as he strode purposefully towards Yoongi. "Get off of there! Get down! That's a sacred altar!" Behind him was a group of four men, two looking nervous and carrying large baskets of food and one cradling a ceramic pot like it was glass while the last glared at him. Yoongi thought the glare might have something to do with the fact that the pot was missing one handle - which he located in the glarer's hand. Good to know every monastery had its own god of destruction.
"I take it you are the monks in charge of rebuilding the abbey?" Yoongi drawled, crossing his feet, completely unbothered by the new arrivals. Their leader halted in his striding, pulling his head back slightly in confusion.
"Uh - yes. That's us." One of the food bearers turned to the other with wide eyes, but received no more than a shrug in response. They looked very young - Yoongi hoped they were close. He thought he saw the one holding a pot begin to say 'hyung' and stop sheepishly when his hyung's heart-shaped mouth frowned even harder. Cute.
"Excellent." Hopping off the altar, Yoongi pulled a string from around his neck and took the stranger's hand. Unfurling crooked fingers, he placed the object in his palm and patted his shoulder familiarly, smiling at the gawk he got in return. "You'll need this, then. I've had it these past five years and I've been more blessed than I ever thought I would be. Guard it well, brother." He turned to walk away as the leader looked behind him, proffering the stone to one of his followers and saying, "Namjoon-ah, is this -" The answering gasp suggested they knew exactly what the stone meant.
"Oh, by the way," he called back at the corner where the path down to his and Jimin's cottage started. "If you ever need anything, just come here and leave a note. My friend and I will be happy to help. You never walk alone." With a soft smile, he disappeared around down the mountain and left them to their offerings.
(And if Jimin bounced home that evening with fine wine in a pot with a broken handle - well, Yoongi wouldn't be surprised.)
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royalwilmon · 2 years
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something about today being a day of celebration for a whole bunch of reasons has got me super in my feelings about the past couple of months and how much my life has changed in nearly every aspect since July...
join me and get real emo about it?
here is where we started.
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so july 6th. that was when i watched young royals for the first time.
let me tell you about july. in july, i was at an all time low. i was (and still am) struggling to find a medication dosage to help manage my depression and anxiety, and that was only making things harder in my day to day. i was struggling with a job that i wanted to love but wasn't good at, and my on inadequacy was making me more and more miserable and more anxious.
and then Wille came along. and for the first time in media i saw anxiety that looked like my own. feeling so represented and so seen in this character i loved so much really inspired me
on july 20th, i told my boss i wanted to quit my job.
that same afternoon, i was offered a new position within my same company, where i could do a job i was better suited for with all the same people i have spent the past three years adoring.
on july 21st, i turned 25.
i joined tumblr when i had just turned fifteen, ten years ago in august of 2011.
in august of 2021, i rejoined tumblr full force after years of varying activity levels to dedicate more time to these silly swedish boys i had grown to love so much. characters that had helped me get through one of the most difficult months of my life.
and now i'm here. two months ago exactly, i joined a group chat with nine other remarkable people that i am so so so happy to call my friends best. the omar convent makes me laugh and smile and cry on a daily basis and i love them so. damn. much.
and then really because of that gc i was able to reach out and connect with so many other incredible people in this MAGICAL community we have created. seriously, this tumblr fandom is so supportive and kind and SMART and creative and talented and it is SUCH a good place to be. i'm so happy here.
also??? i started writing again, which is wild. its something that i genuinely forgot i loved doing, after not really writing at all for six or so years. so to dive back into that has just been the best thing. i'm having a blast.
i'm just so much happier. so much less lonely. so much different than i was before july. thinking about that makes me feel some sort of way. so. thought i'd share how grateful i am
love you all, my beautiful and wonderful friends best
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thehoneybuzz · 3 years
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Ashes to Ashes
Before April 23rd, I had never seen Mount St. Helens. She was a legend from my history textbooks - a harbinger of dark skies and an earth shaker. The Yakima Indian tribe calls her Si Yett, meaning woman. According to tribal mythology, the Great Spirit placed Si Yett between the battling brothers, Mount Adams and Mount Hood, to protect the region. Like other legends, Helens is a great marker of time. The question of, "Where were you when…" elicits memories as vivid as the glint of the glassy snow I found on her peak. 
After her eruption, some thought the world was ending. Observing her crater, her jagged peaks, and the ribbons of steam issuing from her, still - silent reminders of her violent potential - you are struck by her serenity as well as her power. Her allure is not a mystery, and it is that allure which called to me.
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I thought she would make a perfect beginning. With peak elevation at 8,366 feet, she doesn't quite make the top 10 list of Washington's highest summits. Even at her tallest - 9,677 in 1980 - she only ranked at number five. Despite her diminished proportions, her treachery remains in her grade. You gain one thousand feet of elevation over each mile which makes her a formidable challenge. It was just the challenge I was looking to find. 
I packed and repacked gear, reviewed chapters on ice ax use and cold-weather layering in the Mountaineering Bible, and streamed endless hours of online videos in preparation. I hoped that all of this, in addition to my physical training, would be enough. I would be climbing my first mountain, and I would be facing the challenge alone. My companion was another inexperienced climber, and in conquering Helens, I would be solely responsible for my success - or my failure. 
Alone isn't something I'm afraid of - there is something to be said for self-sufficiency. My self-reliance has taken me to beautiful and terrifying places, unlocking the world in ways I couldn't anticipate. Being prepared, however, is critical. 
In aviation, before each flight, you inspect your airplane. The procedure never changes. Check oil, check gas, wings, ailerons, flaps, luggage compartment, rudder, elevator, wheels, brakes, antennas, lights, avionics. At this point in my flying career, the movements are automatic. I'll never forget the words of my first instructor, who told me, "You never want to be in the air wishing you had checked something on the ground. If you can be proactive, you should be. It could save your life." 
I took the lesson with me into mountaineering as I obsessively cycled through my gear list. I knew I was ready. So why did it feel like something was missing? I searched myself for answers. Charlie, our dog, sensed my impatience and rolled over on top of my neatly organized gear - adding a collection of his hair to my merino wool base layers. I laughed as I knelt to scratch him.
"Extra protection," I thought. 
That's when it hit me. 
Growing up, I lived on 20 acres adjacent to miles of preserved natural land. I spent most of my childhood with a book, a pocket knife, and a dog exploring the wilderness behind our home. It's where my love of nature was born. Jake, our family dog and a legend himself was my eager companion. 
"You can go wherever you'd like..." my mom would say as I packed a lunch for the day, "... so long as you bring the dog."
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Jake was freedom, a good listener, and a ready companion. He was our protection. When my parents told me they'd be dividing our land and developing a new housing community, I mourned for myself, but I remember thinking what would happen to Jake. Had my parents forgotten him in their grand planning? I didn't know how he would survive in a shrinking world. 
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It ended up not mattering much. My mom and step-dad divorced before the development took off. My brother, mother, and I moved into a one-bedroom apartment, and we took Jake with us. I was right to be worried about shrinking worlds but underestimated the magnitude. 
As I agonized over my lost home, Jake took on a new kind of protection. A constant in the raging sea of our changing lives, he remained steadfast. Unbothered by his changing condition, his fur caught my tears, and his ears caught my troubles. As a family, we rebuilt our lives. 
Jake held on for years for us, but after his hips went to the dysplasia typical of his breed, he simply couldn't hang on anymore. He let us know it was time - another one of his great mercies - and we did right by him. We lost our best friend that day. For all the space I thought he needed, what he wanted most was to be in our arms. That is how Jake left the world. If love could have saved him, it would have. 
No one quite knew what to do with his ashes. At first, it felt too soon. Having to say goodbye again so shortly after his loss seemed impossible. So Jake's ashes went into a cupboard, and there he stayed for 15 years. No moment or location ever seemed quite right. 
We had to move several boxes to find him. I remembered the sound of his collar as I gently divided his remains, securing a healthy portion rather unceremoniously in a ziplock bag. It was decided. I was taking Jake to the top of the mountain - My protector.
When I made it to the summit, I sobbed. I was overwhelmed at the release I felt - making those last few steps and revealing the world in all her glory. Mount Adams feels so close you truly feel as if you can reach out and touch his peak. The cornices that form atop the crater's edge tempt and terrorize you as you long to peek over their precarious ledges to view the scenery below. Rainier - invisible behind the peak - comes into view so sharply and suddenly that it shocks you. I don't think I'll ever be able to describe the peace and power you find at the top of mountains. 
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As I took Jake's ashes from my pack, I looked up to find a group of skiers summiting behind me. I gasped out loud when I saw their companion. They had brought their young yellow dog - a ghost of Jake - to the summit. The dog smiled at me and came over.
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I couldn't hide my tears as I buried Jake's remains in the snow. He had waited so patiently and so long to be back in nature. Putting him there felt almost spiritual. Ashes to ashes as two legends and mythical protectors - mountain and dog - laid together. Through tears, I shared my story with the group. Pippin, their lab, licked my ungloved hand as the alpine sun dried my tears. We toasted summit beers to mountain dogs and took off down the slope together. Having protected me one more time, Jake lay at rest on the summit at last. 
This June, I'll attempt Mt. Baker, and Jake will be with me again. It's been so many years since his passing; I was shocked at the depth of my emotions as I kneeled with his remains in the snow. I know rationally that his ashes add weight to my pack and don't offer any 'real' safety. You can't burn them in the cold; they don't purify water or offer sustenance. They are frivolous from the rational perspective. Yet, I can't imagine a summit without him. 
Growing up, I wanted a dog so badly that I gave my mom a PowerPoint presentation about why I deserved one. It's the irrational I'm interested in now. Knowing that when I needed him most, Jake was within arms reach, ready to guide me home. 
I honestly don't know if this is a story about mountains or a story about dogs. If it's a story about mountains, I could describe how every moment spent on the descent, I marveled at the beauty of the natural world. If it's about dogs, I could tell you about the two wet noses that welcomed me home: Sophie, my perfectly round Beagle with soft ears, and the sweetest hellos. Charlie, my foster fail, who, despite having been hit by a car as a puppy, approaches each day with an unrivaled sense of enthusiasm and joy. His love for life has reached me even in my darkest moments. Many happy years remain before I carry them up the summit, and for that, I am grateful.
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By the time my feet hit the pavement of the trailhead, I could wring out my socks. They had been drenched in melting show. I was happy and exhausted. It struck me again how the world keeps turning even in those surreal moments when time appears to stand still. Our descent had been complicated - but proved I could endure difficult things. I sang as I removed my boots and smiled, leaning against the trunk of my car. I looked up at the mountain - invisible in the evening mist - that I had just conquered. 
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Mountains and dogs, I thought. A girl doesn't really need much else. 
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