#you know i was lost when i started searching my own tumblr for ideas

[kingreywrites]

I was tagged to name 10 characters for 10 fandoms! Thank you my love @thefoghaslifted for essentially nominating me in the "Inès you should really watch new stuff" game, aka where I realise naming ten characters SHOULDN'T BE SO HARD holy hell. Anyway enjoy my tastes according to them im still 14 in spirit <3

1. Evan Buckley (911)

2. Eugene Fitzherbert (Tangled)

3. Diego Hargreeves (TUA)

4. Maki Zen'in (Jujutsu Kaisen)

5. Anya Forger (Spy x Family)

6. Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016)

7. Pepa Madrigal (Encanto)

8. Imelda Rivera (Coco)

9. Henry Morgan (Forever)

10. Walter O'Brien (Scorpion)

Tagging @runningracingdancingchasing @deepwoundsandfadedscars @paranoidbean @gleamful-lanterns @glacecakes if you wanna do it, no pressure though!! Also anyone else that feels like doing it!

#you know i was lost when i started searching my own tumblr for ideas #btw i read jjk really recently and maki is??? the love of my life??? the most recent scans are so amazing i LOVE HER #tag game

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 3: The Lucky Day

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of an eating disorder and depression, please read with caution as topics may be triggering.

a/n: Alexa, play Daddy's Home <3 Anywho, OC's spiralling summer was inspired by Bella's montage of passing seasons in Twilight ... I'm sorry, but I need to preface that OC will be going through it this whole season, I have already cried thrice. Also, a side question, can you guys actually play the songs I post for these chapters? Meaning, does Tumblr let yall do that or am I trippin? Because I truly think they add a lot to the overall experience. If not, please let me know, then maybe I'll just turn them into a Spotify playlist.

Sleep has become my escape. A temporary withdrawal from reality in which I live to remember everything Jungkook has forgotten. Sleeping through each passing day, I know that at least in my dreams we are still together. In my dreams, I will always find my way back to you, Koo. Even if you don’t remember it, the moon knows that we were once in love. It hears my helpless cries at night and feels every atom of my being that misses you, fearing the idea of us becoming strangers once again. 

It’s as if my happiness was erased with his departure. Holding my hand through each step of the way, he showed me the beauty in life and ended up being the one to take it all away when my fearing heart failed to reciprocate the painfully obvious love tethered between us. Now, my life is dull and pointless. How can I love someone else when every night I dream of you, Koo?

Swallowing pills to mute the sound of my heart beating for his barest touch, I’ve become lost in my own mind, haunted by everlasting thoughts. Although I thought I would be able to at least pretend to be happy for the sake of my family, it’s all become too much. Thus, it was only a matter of days, before my deteriorating behaviour sparked concern in my parents, fueling tension in the air we shared. It all started with fatigue, which then transformed into chronic sleep and in the end began to affect my eating habits. Feeling nauseous from the mere thought of food, I’ve grown to dissociate myself from it. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. And, as my hope slowly diminished, so did the number on the scale. 

“Mira, you have to eat,” my mom’s voice echoes in my ear as my eyes fixate on the plate of steamed broccoli in front of me. 

“I’m not hungry, I told you,” I sigh, swallowing down the lie with some water. 

“Mira, honey, please talk to us. What’s wrong?” my dad asks softly, placing his hand on top of mine. Hearing the trembles in his words, my eyes swell with tears before I shake myself out of it.

“I’m fine … just feeling a bit under the weather,”

“The sun has been at its highest peak this whole time, what’s seasonal about this?” my mom tries to remain composed as she shifts her chair closer to mine. 

“Talk to me, honey. What’s gotten into you? You were so excited to come back,” her hands caress my tangled hair as I nibble on the dead skin on my lip. 

“Mira, you’ve been silent since you came, and now you won’t even eat. Your mom and I can’t bear to see you like this,” 

“Come back home, Miraya. We can find another university here,”

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine, I swear. I just … I just need this break to end already, so I can focus on my studies again. That’ll keep my mind occupied,” I whisper softly, attempting to fake a smile as my empty gaze searches their scattering eyes. Recently, that's how most of our conversations ended. With helpless promises feeding my delusions. However, with each passing day, I come to realise that promises are nothing more than sweet lies. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have to find excuses for the aching feeling in my heart, but rather, melt in the overflowing passion of Jungkook’s burning love. 

Excusing myself, I throw away the cold plate of food and head back to my room, one which was once filled with laughter and a carefree sense of ambition. The same walls that watched me cry out of happiness upon receiving my acceptance letter just a few months ago are the ones that now echo my pathetic cries for help. Every inch of this room has become cold and numb, and I’m afraid that there is no more warmth in me that could fix this. 

Crouched in a fetal position as my body shivers under the floral duvet my mom gifted me as a welcome present, I dial Jimin’s phone number. It has been weeks since he moved back to Busan, but I have yet to receive any updates from him about Jungkook. In hindsight, maybe, it’s for the best, but if silence is the thing that'll save me then why do I still hold onto the smallest glimpse of hope for us? Even if it means walking across a minefield of rejected possibilities that would ultimately send me into a never-ending spiral, why do I still care?

“How is he?” I ask with hesitation. 

“Different. He’s different.” Jimin replies softly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he seems distant. Which is fair, I guess. But, he doesn’t quite seem to remember me,” 

“At all?” my voice shakes as I choke up. 

“Well no, he is still able to recover our memories from when we were kids, but recent events are very blurry,” Jimin goes on. 

I, was recent to Jungkook. We, were recent to him. Four months, that's how long I've known Koo, but I’ve been missing him for the last seven. Each day I daydream, reminiscing our memories, feeling the void in my heart knowing that I’ve been without him longer than I’ve been with him. Maybe, Mrs. Jeon was right. I would be lying if I said that a little part of me didn’t think that the reason for her ultimatum was purely based on a simple dislike of me. You know? Like, she didn’t see me as a good match for her son? Because, even then, her disapproval of my character would have been an easier pill to swallow than knowing that now, in Koo’s empty eyes, I’m no longer his Peaches, but a stranger. God, it hurts to even say it out loud let alone accept it. I can’t accept it, but I have to now, don’t I?

“Please take care of him for me Jiminah,” I manage to let out, wiping the tears rolling down my face. 

“I will Mira, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“See you,” I end the call, throwing my phone across the bed, my puffy eyes irritated by the brightness. 

That night was especially hard. Although my body was desperately wanting to succumb to the exhaustion, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept replaying our memories, reminding me of the things I should have said. The words Koo never heard, but deserved to.

--

Hugging my mom, her trembling hands tighten their hold on my sweater as I take in the smell of her perfume for the last time. I missed her a lot, and the guilt of putting my parents through that torture has been eating me alive this whole summer. All they wanted was to see their daughter smile and I failed to fulfill even the simplest of their wishes. If only they knew how much I wanted to smile again. 

“Mira, I’m telling you again, we can find another university here,” my mom says with teary eyes. 

“Just say yes, and we’ll deal with all the transfer stuff, honey,” my dad joins, caressing my palms, as I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head no. 

“That’s not fair. You guys didn’t raise a quitter,” I manage to let out, feeling my throat tighten from the build-up of emotions. 

“You’re right, we didn’t. But, even the strongest soldier needs a shoulder to cry on. Remember that we are and always will be by your side, Miraya,”

“Call us as soon as you land, love,” 

Passing through the airport security, I wave to my family my last goodbyes before heading to my gate. Am I excited to come back to Seoul? I don’t really have a choice, do I? That God-awful Nursing degree won’t finish itself, so yeah, I kind of have to go back. But, I know that school isn’t the only thing pulling me back. I know I can’t, but I still wish to see Jungkook, even from afar, it doesn’t matter. All I want now is to know that he is doing well.  

I’m not sure how, but as soon as my head rested against the seat my body shut down, falling into a much-needed sleep. I probably would have slept through the whole 12-hour flight if it weren’t for the bright beams of sunlight penetrating through my heavy eyelids. Taking a glimpse out the airplane window, I no longer saw snowy mountains but rather blossoming fields of greenery scattered within the busy cities of Korea. And, as the captain went through his ending speech, a flood of international students lined up near the exit, eager to get back into their previously established routine. It’s funny because I was sitting next to one of my cohort members from last semester, but we were both too tired to even realise. 

Nonetheless, putting my passport and ticket back into my carry on, I rolled my luggage down the escalator before a familiar voice called out my name. Searching the crowd of strangers filled with overwhelmed emotions, my eyes stop at a particular boxy smile. 

“Long time no see, Flip-flops!�� Tae shouted across the hall, before waving me down to where he was standing with Jiah and Jimin who were just as excited about my arrival. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute, little dance as he pulled me into a warm hug. 

“Tae, I’m certain you just don’t know my actual name,” I say with a grin, looking up at his sparkling eyes. 

“Of course, I do MJ,” he grins, rubbing the top of my head. Ha ha ha, isn’t he just a comedian? For context, my government name is Mira Jean … hence, the birth of MJ. 

“That’s enough, let us hug her too,” Jiah chuckles, opening her arms as my body virtually melts into her embrace. With tears rolling down our faces, her grip tightens around my form as she lets out a sudden gasp. 

“Mira! My goodness, why are you so small?” she asks with a concerned tone, her wide eyes scanning my body. Although, I always managed to maintain my normal weight, I guess, not eating properly for 3 months left its mark on the way I looked. As the numbers on the scale decreased, I became more and more fixated on the protrusion of my bones. I hated the feeling, but, I also couldn’t stop. Because I couldn’t get myself to eat, I relied on baggy clothes to create an illusion that would satisfy people’s perception of me. Unfortunately, I failed to fool Jiah as she saw right through the act. 

“I just stopped eating so much junk food, I’m fine. Trust me, this is a good thing Jiah, now I can finally fit into my favourite pair of jeans,” I try to laugh the pain away, caressing her hands as her furrowed eyebrows slowly release their tension. She isn’t convinced but also, doesn’t want to create a scene in public. I know that follow-up questions will be brought up along the way, but for now, my attention is focused on looking for someone who I know isn’t there. It’s silly, but before spotting Tae, a little part of me hoped to see Jungkook. To witness his sparkling doe eyes and bunny teeth, once again, like the good old times.  

“Okay, it’s settled, we are all going to my favourite Korean BBQ place,” Jimin exclaims, giving me a quick wink before grabbing both of the luggage out of my hands, and handing one to Tae. And, as Jiah intertwines her hands with mine, we exchange soft smiles exiting the airport as my skin finally feels the fresh, humid air of Seoul. Stopping mid-walk, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I hated every second of my summer, it was nothing short of pure torture but, at least, it too passed. 

“You’re good?” Tae whispers, softened gaze focused on my flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I say softly, taking another deep breath as his arm caresses my shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Mira,” his words pierce through my ears as I unconsciously shoot him an alarming look. 

“You’ve heard from him?” I rush my words, anticipating his answer as my chest heaves up. 

“No, but I can feel your pain,” his tone is quieter now, eyes still searching mine. 

“I’m fine, Tae,” I mumble under my breath, lowering my head in fear of breaking down in front of them. 

“Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my head before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. If only he could hear the way I’m screaming inside. The way I’m calling out for help. For someone to find hope in my hopeless state of mind. If only he knew how much I miss Jungkook. 

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Following the tradition, I will be hosting my annual house party before school beats all of our asses,” Jimin chuckles, caressing Jiah’s hand as their eyes focus on each other. Forcing down some dumpling soup into my system, I feel nauseous, but can’t risk growing Jiah's suspicion more, so I attempt to eat as little as possible without her noticing. 

“So, Mira, please come. Jungkook will be there as well,” Jimin continues with a soft smile which slowly fades upon noticing my gaze drop. Letting go of my spoon, my fingernails dig into my cold palms, as I’m back at square one. How am I supposed to face him when I can’t even handle the mere mention of his name? It’s not fair. None of them know about Mrs. Jeon’s ultimatum, and I fear that I can’t just simply tell them. So, I gulp down the pain and manage to put on another act, one that I seem to have mastered over the summer. 

“Mira, you’re okay?” Jiah asks, gently rubbing my forearm. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit jet-lagged. Sure, of course, I’ll come,” I reply with a reassuring smile, before looking at Tae. I recognize the sadness in his eyes because I see it in my own every passing minute. But, I can’t let him in. I can’t betray Mrs. Jeon’s trust, again. Even if it means that I have to betray my own heart.

--

We’ve been walking around the mall for probably 3 hours now and Jiah has yet to find something with that wow factor, meanwhile, I have already found 4 of the nearest exits. The party is set for tonight, and although I have already agreed to come, I can’t get myself to actually face the consequences. I can’t go, what was I thinking. What? Did I think everything was going to be fine once Jungkook saw me? Mira, he doesn’t remember you. 

“Jiah, you know, I really don’t think I should go tonight?” I say, slowly walking in circles as she eyes another mini dress. 

“What? Why?” she stutters, going through racks of possible options. 

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie, fiddling with my fingers to calm down the nerves. 

“Mira, is something wrong?” Jiah stops what she’s doing before walking closer to my anxious self. 

“I’m fine, really,” I lie again. 

“You don’t look fine. You barely eat, barely sleep, barely talk to me,” she exclaims with a  tone firmer than before. 

“Then stop looking. Please, can everyone just leave me alone? I’m just tired, okay?” I burst, feeling everyone’s eyes on my distressed self. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. What do you need?” she says gently, reaching out her hands.  

“I just need space,” I whisper, crossing my arms in front of my burning chest. 

“Fine, I’ll give you some space. Please call me when you’re ready,” Jiah’s words cut deep as she walked out of the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I’ve been trying to run away from this whole time. I can’t even get mad at her. She is only trying to help, but how can she when I keep shutting everyone out? It’s all my fault, I know. I just hope that this isn’t how it ends. I hope I don’t push everyone away, and someone sees right through the mask I put on. Because I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.

Locking the door behind me I plop onto my bed before finally resting my heavy eyes. And, within minutes, I’m passed out again. I think, I've grown to become eternally tired, no matter how much I sleep, there is just no end to this fatigue. Moving restlessly, I pull the white cover over my shivering body before hearing my phone ring. 

“Ugh, what is it now?” I grunt, squinting from the screen brightness as a small gasp escapes my parted lips. It was 8 pm already. How is that possible? I swear, I just laid my head. But, no, apparently I’ve been asleep for the last 5 hours. 

“Hello?” I manage to let out. 

“Flip-flops? Where are you?” Tae screams through the loud music in the background. 

“Tae, I’m home. What happened?” 

“Mira hurry, Jiah is drunk. You need to come pick her up,” he exclaims with panic in his voice. 

“What? Where’s Jimin? Can he not drive her?” I stutter, lifting myself off of the bed before putting my hoodie back on. 

“You want him to drive under the influence? Of course, he is drunk too,” 

“Well, why can’t you drive them?” I whine, almost pleading. 

“Who said I wasn’t drunk either?” he chuckles, sending me a flying kiss through the phone. 

“Fine, I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on Jiah,” I sigh before grabbing my keys and ID. 

Thankfully, Jimin’s place wasn’t that far from our dormitory so, the ride there was only 10-ish minutes. Nonetheless, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And, as the driver finally pulled up to the apartment complex I practically ran inside. Following the sound of loud music, I made my way through the crowd of people who clearly had a little too much fun, as the alcohol in their system could be detected from the next block. 

“Flip-flops!” Tae exclaimed with a big grin. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes diverted to Jiah, who was standing beside him with absolutely no sign of a hangover. In fact, she looked better than ever in her new mini-dress. 

“What? You lied?” I snap, eyebrows furrowing more and more with each step I take towards them. 

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” Tae chuckles, trying to rub my head before I push his hand away. 

“Get off me,” my tone is harsh as I lower my piercing gaze, shaking my head in disbelief. 

“Oh! Mira, there you are,” I could hear Jimin’s voice getting closer before turning my flushed face. And with that, it felt like time stopped altogether. There was nothing and no one in the room except for him and I. Koo and I. Feeling my gaze soften, I choke up from the rush of emotions in my throat. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a warm smile, reaching out his hand as if meeting me for the first time. Before replying, I take a moment to analyze his face. The one I dreamed about every night and the one that caused me so much pain. He looks the same, except, his eyes no longer sparkle like they used to. I guess, we got that in common. 

“Hi …I’m Mira,” I let out a soft smile, before reaching out my own hand. 

“Yah, Kook, you already know her, you guys were best friends,” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me. I'm still trying to piece everything back together,” Koo says, covering his mouth before shutting his eyes from embarrassment. 

Feeling my throat tighten, I quickly excuse myself, before rushing out of the packed room towards the nearest fire escape. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but why does it feel like I’m going to pass out? It’s as if all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Feeling lightheaded I hold onto the railing and close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe it. Koo, I saw you but you didn’t see me. You saw a stranger. And, suddenly, there I was, alone again, realizing that everything I feared had come true.

Regaining my composure, I decide to walk back to the party before my eyes are met with his. 

“Not a party animal, huh?” Jungkook grins, stopping in his tracks as his arm leans against the wall. 

“It’s my day off,” I let out a small chuckle, unable to keep his eye contact. 

“So … we were best friends?” he asks softly, hands fidgeting with the chains on his belt. 

“Yeah …” I nod slightly, nibbling on my lips. 

“It’s funny because I don’t remember anything from last year. I could barely recognize my own dad for a while. Jimin helped me a lot, he basically recalled sparknotes of my past for me,” he laughs. Oh, how I missed his laugh.  

“You really don’t remember anything?” I finally look up, searching his scattering eyes. 

“No, not one bit,” his muffled words are interrupted by the growling sound coming from my stomach, as I let out an awkward smile. 

“Oh, are you hungry?” he grins, bunny teeth on full display, as my gaze softens again. 

“No, no, no, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head home now,” I shake my hands, zipping my hoodie before attempting to walk past him. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll drive. I’m starving as well,” Jungkook assures, gently pulling onto the fabric as my heart sinks to my feet.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I agreed. I couldn’t say no to Koo. Not, after all the sleepless nights I’ve spent missing his mere presence. And, as we entered the nearest restaurant, everything felt real. He felt real. Even if he couldn’t feel it, my heart was beating for the both of us. For our first hellos, last goodbyes and everything in between. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend like nothing happened. 

“Oh, look, Mira, they have a special deal on shrimp dumplings, do you like them?” his voice, brings me back to reality as I mute the thoughts running through my head. 

“Yeah, my mom made them for me all the time when I was little,” I smile. 

“Then, I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles with a satisfied grin, before calling one of the waiters. 

“I guess, it is,” I say softly, feeling my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow the lie. Searching his naive eyes my own swell with tears while my body shifts restlessly in the seat. Desperately wanting to cave into the emotions, my mind is haunted by the thoughts of Mrs. Jeon’s letter. And, as I close my eyes for a moment, all I can see are the painful reminders of our enforced distance. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. Yet, here we are, here you are, Koo. Live in the flesh, separated by a table and the forgotten story of our past. So close, yet so far that it physically hurts. To him, I’m just another piece of the puzzle that would fill the void in his memories. But, to me, he is the only piece that could make me whole again. 

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#bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #bts x yn #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #jungkook smut #romance #young love #college love #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #forbidden love #peaches & cream jk

[feyarcher]

It's the loss of community from all the social media site distasters of the last year that really gets me. Musk blew up twitter because ????? and I lost a huge source of my regular connection to certain communities and the world generally. Reddit is now fucked because its owner has decided it is cool to be a mini musk or something and so many communities are getting destroyed.

Some people leave immediately when the ship starts sinking. Some people are forced out because the lack of accessibility literally steals their community spaces from them. Others stay to laugh at the asshats in charge. And bad actors come in to make the remnants of the communities into cesspools.

And what are we left with? There is no other platform that entire communities can move to in the exact same way they were before. There is no way to track where every single person who brought value to your community chooses to go. And the scatter remnants are different, forced from text based to [whatever the fuck tumblr is] based or fucking video based. (The turn to video based content with your real identity attached is a whole thing for another time). Or private discord forums that you have to already know about to be able to find because message boards where you can find community and answers with an easy search are gone.

Our communities have been wonderful much of the time (if you can manage to filter out the awful and the rage bait and curate your experience), but we built them on private companies that somehow don't give a fuck about the users who drive the entire value of their site. They focus on advertisers and data collection and never improving the actual experience of the users who mean everything to their stock prices.

The undervaluing of mods, the highlighting of asshats paying $8 to spout off nonsense, the complete lack of caring about what actually makes their platforms useful. And the collateral damage is me, losing communities and news sources and amusement that I have relied on for years. In order to what? Impress investors who are equally stupid and refuse to focus on building a good product and instead focus on what? Ads half of people block anyways? Appeasing the ego of a guy who should take his halfassed spaceship to Mars and not come back?

And the only real short term option we have to fight back is to leave. To not give them our engagement. To tank the stupid metrics they care so much about. At the cost of communities. Of easy information access. Of discovering new people and ideas completely by accident that change your whole world.

Sure, in the long run we can work on shifting to "better" sites. Ones that are open sources or ones we build ourselves. Make your own website. Get involved in modding not for profit sites. But none of it brings back the communities, the connections, the people that we have lost along the way. And today, I'm just fucking sad about it.

#reddit blackout #the downfall of twitter #im not even touching on the damage tiktok has done to how we engage with each other online #this is not a shot at tumblr or their staff who i think are generally working in the right direction #but tumblr isn't profitable so how long until we lose this space too #allie says stuff sometimes #excuse my rant #wall of text

[cyansyrup]

Burned Lace

Verse I - Mischief Night

Pairing: Ghost x Devil!Reader (AFAB reader)

Synopsis: You are the devil that has taken a liking to a very specific soldier. His soul weeps, and no one seems fully able to answer the call until you begin sneaking into his room during the darkest hours of the night.

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Dubcon, somnophilia (sorta), teratophilia, possessiveness, monsterfucking

(Let me know if I missed anything hnnnnnnn)

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Hey y'all! I've been in fanfic spaces for years at this point, and this is one of my first times trying my hand at some fics of my own! Tumblr fic debut? Tumblr fic debut.

Also this originally was supposed to be a oneshot, but I got way too attached to the idea of girlboss devil shenanigans that I couldn't end things here so expect more soon! ;)

(Sorry for any misspellings or cringe lmaoooo have a great day)

· · ─────── ·🥀· ─────── · ·

Humans living with internal despair weren't something out of the ordinary. It kept the universe balanced, as all things should be.

Him, however...

It started off as you curiously spectating the human issues that overtook their world. Being a devil wasn't all underground parties and group escapades where you'd explore the bodies of your peers until the waking hours of the sun, after all. Your job, in a nutshell, keeps the world in balance. You learned names, masqueraded with different faces, and you never disrupted the flow of their daily lives.

Well... 'never' was a bit of a lie.

You were a devil. Simple as that. You feed easiest off of negative emotions, aggression, and the run-of-the-mill sins. Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Lust… It was all sustenance for you. Eventually, you learned to seek these energies from spaces with a healthy mix of them. You began to frequent military bases, slinking through barracks buildings and training facilities. It was a wonder how so many humans in one place would wake up at such ungodly hours and not tear each other to shreds in the days following. They were so intriguing in those moments.

You watched from afar at first, disguised amongst the crowds of recruits, taking the form of hostages or even shrouded in the shadows of his room as he sat awake with no one but the creaking of the floorboards to keep him company. You knew you were overstepping boundaries for a random human. Though, you couldn't help the way those mournful, heavy brown eyes gazed at the ceiling before he slept each night. It was as if he were searching for something long lost, something that'd never be found. Some days you’d be lucky enough to be nearby when he finally took his mask off in the deeper hours of the night. He liked to stand in front of the bathroom mirror after his grooming routines, to just… stare. Humans loved to do that alot, you noted. Their minds hung heavy with the day’s woes and burdens. Most of the time they’d be working themselves to the bone and thus, often didn’t afford themselves the luxury of rest. This man was one such person.

Soon enough, you'd like to occupy the place of that something.

“Ghost,” Was what the other humans called him most. He preferred it that way. You’d follow suit for his comfort, running beside the little team of rookies that took up drills in the mornings. You made sure not to make yourself too noticeable in the fray, until one day you couldn’t help yourself when the two of you locked eyes as he watched you jog past. The air around him was thick, nearly suffocating as if to tell others to stay away. He did everything in his power to make his personal space known to recruits. With sharp eyes, a rough voice, and large stature, he had fully built an instruction manual that needed no words to understand. Those who knew what was good for them did what they could to follow suit.

It didn't take long for you or your peers to find out that he belonged to a special group dubbed the 141. It always amused you how humans so easily categorized themselves and each other. You did have to admit–they were an impressive bunch. You found it a bit unfortunate that you couldn’t get too close to them. Ghost was already a boundary you were well overstepping. You paused for a moment as the two of you locked eyes, and you offered him a light smile as you approached. You always made sure your human look was down to the T, your natural eyes would give you away the easiest in the uniform you wore.

“Doing okay this morning, Lieutenant?” You offered him. Your voice hung in the air like bubbles before dispersing, as if chased away and dried out by the aura he kept around him. Interacting with humans would be much easier if they all had the same personality, you declared to yourself.

“...’M fine.” He responded. His voice reminded you of the old stray cats you’d sneak off to play with in the night. Unbothered, so long as you did not overstep. You gave him a smile, half-expecting him to return the question. Though, you weren't all too surprised when he tossed back a gruff, “Back to it, then.” after an awkward silence around the both of you. You decided to leave it at that, sprinting back over to rejoin the group.

His soul hung heavy with each step he took, each life ended, each drop of blood spattered on the British flag patch he wore across his uniform's sleeve. It never scared you--you'd be a blazing hypocrite to even complain, anyway. Sometimes, you even liked to watch in the shadows as his knife met the jugular of some sorry adversary. He knew his way around a weapon, and it excited you in a deep, connected way. Unlike many questionable human men you’ve latched onto in the past, you could never sense any excitement from him when he downed another member of an opposing party. It was more an emptiness that flashed through him for a moment, before the kick of adrenaline ran through him once more. The days spent dodging gunfire and evading certain death wound him up like a tightrope, or a rubber band pulled to the furthest point of tension.

You wanted to snap that rubber band.

It didn't take long for you to slip into his bedroom through the shadows again. After the day’s chaos had subsided and the little ecosystem on base began to quiet, everyone returned to their places in their respective rooms at the barracks. Tonight, you'd make yourself known.

You were patient. Oh so patient in allowing him to finish up his nightly routine, all the way up until he finally succumbed to the throes of sleep. He had nightmares often–that much you knew very well. Occasionally, he'd wake up in the dead of the evening and leave to run until he couldn't think of his traumas anymore. Other nights he sat awake until he could drift off again. You wanted to hold him during those nights. His room was cold, but you'd make him feel like a furnace had been chucked into the shabby bed with him.

You lurked in the shadows of his room once again, observing as his body lurched and twitched in his sleep. Now was usually when his nightmares occurred. You could sense it–the energies that flowed through him as he went through the punishments of his subconscious mind. Tonight, however, you wouldn't let those images wreak havoc on him much longer. You slipped out from your obscured hiding spot, crossing the space of the room to greet his sleeping form. His chest rose and fell in even-enough intervals, but his eyebrows knotted and un-knotted in obvious discomfort.

You waited for a moment, eyes raking over his chiseled and scarred features. He was beautiful. Blonde tufts of hair matted against his pillow while matching eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones. Oh, those scars. You've seen the darkest parts of humanity, and scars were a testament to what men like Ghost were put through. Devils like yourself didn't scar as easily, atleast not from something as harmless to you as a gunshot wound or the blade of a knife. Of course, you had no problem making a show of it whenever you needed to masquerade as one of them.

Gently, you reached a hand out, long nails immediately retracting so that you wouldn't add to the scars on his face. You began to morph into your human form once again, the human shape you favored nowadays as it was the one you held in a past life, long ago. Slowly, the back of your knuckles caressed the semi-warm skin of his cheek. Light sleeper that he was, his eyelids raised slowly, before snapping open. "The fuck…?" He asked groggily, leaning up. As if it were second nature, his hand began to reach for the handgun he kept stashed in the drawer of his nightstand. "What in hells–"

"Shh… easy, easy." You cooed, grasping for his wandering hand. Thanks to your inhuman physicality, you could hold him in place or even toss him across the room should the opportunity present itself. "You're dreaming, Simon." You hummed, gently pressing him back into the bed as your legs moved to straddle him above the sheets. He certainly wasn't dreaming, though you decided it'd be better to not have to explain why an unknown woman was not only naked in his bedroom, but had the strength to pin him to the bed. "I'm not here to hurt you, okay?" Your voice and scent did wonders to relax him once again (despite his better judgment) and he took your senseless explanation without much more coercion.

"What's happening…?" He whispered, half to you and half to himself. His voice still held the remnants of sleep that threatened to reclaim him, and your effects on him didn't at all help with the dizzying of his senses.

So beautiful.

"I'm taking care of you," You breathed, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "You're real wound up, you know that?" You mentioned, settling yourself right over his crotch. Just a little, you'd roll your hips to test his reaction. His brows knotted, and he tensed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless you want it," You promised, running a hand from his jaw down to his clothed chest. As your hand explored, your finger hooked onto the collar of his shirt to pull a little, and slid down to expose one of his more prominent chest scars. The oldest among them turned stark white against his already-pale skin, a testament to just how much he'd been through and for how long.

You were enamored, finding yourself taking a moment to look over them thoughtfully. "You're very pretty, Simon." You mused his real name once more. The gorgeous man in question had been a bit out of it to respond fully, heavily-affected by the thickening air you manipulated in the room. You'd be claiming him for the very first time on his bed, and you were well within your right to call him however you saw fit. (Whether or not he decided to grumble about it, he'd grow comfortable with it eventually if you moaned it sweetly enough–like all men.) His lids lowered involuntarily and you could feel his tense muscles relax evenly, the arm in your grasp going slack. You took it, and brought his hand to your hip. Being a devil, your body temperature was naturally higher than a human, and you could feel the grip of his hand seeking that warmth, pushing you closer against him.

He relaxed further, his own hips joining your movements in a heated dance with one another. Most of his reasoning melted away with each brush of your plump ass against his crotch as you straddled him firmly. You could feel him harden against you, releasing a pleased hum at the sensation. Your own heat dampened evenly, and you found yourself not even needing to deliberately bring the slick forth like you usually did with human men. He was… different. His scent, his aura, all of it. It excites you beyond explanation.

"You okay..?" You'd ask him, easing up on the air around the both of you. He still deserved to feel good, you really wanted him to feel good. You could feel the sheer length of him pressing against you, using that as the marking point to slide forward, and back, and forward, and back. This earned you a soft grunt from him and you felt his muscles tense. Your pace remained steady so as not to overstimulate him this early in the night. Thanks to your movements, his pants rolled down slightly, the pink and swollen tip of him having poked out to greet you. His breath hitched as he finally parted his lips to speak.

"Yes… I-" His speech was cut short as you pushed a bit too far, your folds sucking the swollen tip of him against you. You were soaking at this point, having caused a wet spot at the hem of his sweats. He bit down on his lip–the feel of you at his most sensitive part for the first time sent stars crashing into the back of his eyes as his lids snapped shut. His eyes opened again and looked up at you longingly, light golden lashes fanning as he silently regarded you like a long lost lover. "Please…" His deep, accented voice cracked into a low whine. He couldn't wait any longer, and you didn't want to make him. You could smell his desire, hear his heavy heartbeat and sense the blood rushing violently to his cock.

"Pull them down." You ordered him simply, raising yourself to allow him to pull down his sweats just enough for the rest of him to spring free from its confines, bumping against your clit before he grasped the base. His pants were barely halfway down his muscular thighs, but he couldn't waste another second without being inside of you. His free hand moved back to your hip, guiding you with no resistance to slot himself inside. His tip pushed you open, welcomed by your slick, tight walls before he paused to look up at you again.

"Give it a second, I'm–" You knew what he was about to say. Many women in his past needed ample time for prep before fully accepting his large girth, but those were all human women. You could take him. All of him, as quickly as he needed.

"You won't hurt me, Simon. Keep going, it's fine." You hummed, pushing your hips down further, where you immediately could trace the large vein running down his shaft. The sensation pushed a moan from your lips. "You're a big boy, huh…?" You asked, a wicked smirk gracing your face as you let gravity do the rest of the work, sliding down at an agonizing pace for him. He filled you to the brim, his size stretching you open exquisitely as you pulsed around him. You wasted no time in raising yourself up, leaving his cock wet and vulnerable against the cool air of the room, before sliding back down. You licked your lips, able to faintly taste him on your tongue as he worked you open from below. Maybe you'd taste him with your actual mouth a little later…

"Fuuuck… greedy little minx you are." He groaned, matching your tempo and fucking upward into you, the clash of both of your bodies encouraging a wet slap to ring out in the room. Simon's mind was way too cloudy to care, and it wouldn't be your problem to deal with in the morning. This reasoning was good enough for you to continue, letting your voice ring out in the room as you rode him for all he was worth. You squeezed, clenched, and gripped all over him inside and out, fingertips and nails searing hot against his pecs. Soon finding yourself trapped in an internal tug-of-war, your pupils stretch to their natural slitted shape and the glow of your eyes beginning to pulsate.

It was as if your body adapted to the rhythm of him jackhammering into your cervix without restraint, breasts bouncing as your tail wrapped around one of his arms in a tight coil. That familiar pressure built in the pit of your belly, now. Your gorgeous human's teeth gritted as his head slammed back into the pillow, a choked groan escaping from the deepest chasm of his chest. His own nails gripped into your plush skin, leaving behind a searing, fluttering pain that you accepted without protest. What started off as rising molasses exploded like a volcano as Simon's peak crashed into you, filling you deeply as your body synced up with his, and you soaked him completely.

Your own throat produced a loud, animalistic growl that soon melted into an even-toned purr as your tail slowly loosened from around his arm, leaving behind light burn marks. Your fluids mixed and mingled as you were both left lazily grinding and sliding against each other. You definitely hadn't been ready to release him from your syrupy walls just yet, opting to fall foward and greet him with a couple love bites across his chest, creeping up towards the crook of his neck. He smelled like heaven, his human scents mingling with your own as he wrapped both arms around you and buried his nose into your hair. He held you as if you'd disappear into thin air–which you usually did. Tonight though, for him, you couldn't bring yourself to.

#did I just write the POV of a fucking sleep paralysis demon #simon x devil!reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x f!reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty #obligatory monster girl tag #monsterfucking cw #18+ #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you @theoneeyedprince for giving us some behind the scenes perspective on your brilliant writing 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: theoneeyedprince 

Story: A Refined Taste

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Warnings: Explicit/18+, be mindful of chapter warnings!

So, when did you start writing?

I have been interested in story telling and writing since I can remember. My first story that I've ever written was for a class in my third grade tilted "A Tale of a Little Droplet". I don't really remember why I decided to write a story about the journey that water goes through. Perhaps our teacher gave us this topic or I was just funny like that.

The thing is that I think that I've always had a soft spot for fiction. Then as the years went by I wrote everything from prose, to lyrics and poetry. Then I went to university and I started writing scripts, which became my new favourite form of writing, if I have to be honest.

When it comes to fanfiction it was the Harry Potter fandom that introduced me to it a decade ago. I read Dramione, Harry and Hermione and The Marauders fics first in my native language and then switched to writing those in English.

I didn't write at first but after months of being a reader I decided to give it a go and posted my own Dramione fic. Unfortunately, I believe that it got lost in the Internet ether because I didn't save the chapters on my computer-I wrote everything on the fanfiction site I used back then.

My fanfiction experience stopped or rather ended abruptly when I was in my senior year of high school and during four years at uni until my final year of my Masters degree began in October 2022. Funny enough it wasn't only the year when House of the Dragon premiered, but also the month when the older Aemond Targaryen appeared in the show.

The moment I saw this character on screen it was as if an old friend whispered in my ear telling me to come back. So after years and years of absence in the fanfiction community, I was finally back. All thanks to a new ASOIAF universe show and an incredibly intriguing character of Aemond Targaryen, played by Ewan Mitchell who I already knew from his role as Osferth in The Last Kingdom.

I took it slow however, searching fics and getting to know AO3 and the fanfiction side of tumblr. And as I was doing that, an idea for my own HOTD fanfic came to me. At that moment I felt like I was truly back.

What made you decide to start writing in English? Do you have any advice for budding new writers where English is not their native tongue?

I'd talk about bilingualism and literature written in English by non-native speakers for hours on end!

In my country (Poland, for anyone interested) kids start learning English in kindergarten so it became my second language pretty early on in my childhood, a constant since I was 6 years old. Lucky for me, it sunk into my brain with ease so the more I studied it the more comfortable I became with talking and writing in it.

Also, growing up with British and American shows, films and Internet helped me with that. I stopped reading translated books in high school (in English that is) 'cause I thought that if I watched visual media and listened to songs without having them translated, then why not try that with literature.

My journey with writing prose and poetry in English started then too. For some reason, writing in my second language (English) comes easier to me than in my first. I'm not sure how to describe it, it's still a mystery to me. Maybe it's the fact that I've been familiar with English for so long that my brain simply prefers it. Also, I got my degrees in English literature and translation studies so that helped me a lot with understanding this language at a level that feels like my second native tongue.

I'd say that as an author who writes in English I have an advantage because of how much time and space English occupied my life in the past and in the present.

My advice to anyone who wants to write in English but isn't a native speaker would be to simply start. Start writing and reading and get familiar with the language through these activities. The saying 'Practise makes perfect' is one hundred percent accurate!

To those who already write in their second or third language - I applaud you because by doing so you show everyone a skill that you should be proud of! In our modern times English is a global language and so available for everyone to learn that people take it for granted when someone says they read or write in it. How hard could it be, right? Well, the latter takes time and expertise and requires love and devotion for what you do. And doing that in another language is worth praising.

Where did the plot for A Refined Taste come from?

The idea came to me after devouring every modern AU that came my way. Summer was around the corner and I thought 'What if I wrote a modern AU myself? Can I do it?'

I was writing my in-canon Aemond fic at that time but started feeling a little burnt out and needed something else to focus on with hopes that it'll fill me with new inspiration and motivation. I wrote two short scenes but for what turned out to be a completely different fic at the end–the action took place during summer holidays so these scenes ended up in ART's Part 4 and 5.

The inspiration for A Refined Taste particularly came from Pinterest and Lana del Rey. A still from The Talented Mr Ripley showed up on my dash, while I was listening to Lana's Honeymoon album. Soon enough I was adding tens of pictures to my 'old money aesthetics’ board and then it dawned on me. This is perfect–a modern AU about the Targaryens being an old money family who lives in a big mansion by the sea and owns a private vineyard!

I had the title at the ready because it was one of three that I considered for a completely different modern AU but luckily it fit the theme and aesthetics. 'A refined taste' is a reference to the vineyard and their private wine collection, the old money lifestyle (the romanticised one, of course) and as we later find out in the story to the people we choose to spend time with and love.

So, in short the idea started with a desire to write a modern AU fic and old money aesthetics.

Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in ART?

Aemond from A Refined Taste can be described in two different ways depending on who you ask about him. If you're like the reader at the beginning of the story, so someone who doesn't know him personally, no connection despite shaking hands with him once, he seems distant, so quiet that you might think him pompous and judgmental and there's this cocky attitude that comes to the surface from time to time.

However if you get to know him closer or manage to break down his walls, it turns out that he's more of an observant than a participant that's why he barely talks around strangers. Well, except for when there are his siblings around, then he might join in the conversation or crack a joke (whether it ends up being genuinely funny or mean that's another story 'cause our guy spends more time with books, he's an academic scholar after all, than with people that aren't his family).

When Aemond trusts someone or falls in love with them he lets them see this vulnerable and caring side of him that he keeps locked deep inside due to the trauma and heartbreak he faced in the past. He was raised by his mother because his father was always absent so one might assume that being doted on by Alicent he'd be more in touch with his feelings but unfortunately for him it was the opposite. Especially after losing his eye it became obvious how little Viserys cared for him.

Also, he became a shell of himself, locking himself from the world, in consequence becoming a very lonely boy who later had trouble finding friends outside of his siblings. That is why he focused on his studies.

When it comes to his romantic life, he had crushes but his low self-esteem constantly pulled him back from shooting his shot with those girls. He went through some sort of transformation during the summer before his first year at Oldtown University with the help of Aegon who was finished with his B.A. at KLU at that time. That's when he met Alys, his first serious girlfriend and a cause for the return of his bitterness and insecurities (it was a long, on and off toxic relationship). After that he was with Cass who was only a rebound for him, turning him into a cold and selfish dick in her eyes, which he was at the end. Aemond simply couldn't think of any way to cope with his previous relationship and treated Cass like Alys treated him. And that is one of the reasons why he enjoys sex, because he can be in control of a situation and forget everything just for a moment.

Then, there came the reader who showed him that he doesn't have to be at odds with the world and people in it only because he's hurting so much, that if he gave someone a chance they can surprise him in a good way.

His love language is acts of service (and quality time, at the same time)–he offers to teach the reader how to play tennis, notices what book she's been reading and gives her a first edition he's sure she'd like, shows his attraction to her by providing her pleasure without wanting anything in return (Part 4 and Part 5), takes her on a date on a boat and at the vineyard, chooses the PHD program that is closest to where she lives, shows up with flowers at her work in order to surprise her. Words of affirmation are something new to him though, but seeing how open she is with her feelings, he decided to grand her the same in return.

He's a very contradicting character in canon, so I wanted to convey that in ART too.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader?

I wanted the character of the Reader to be someone who is independent on her own but would benefit from ending up in a relationship with someone who shares her interests and challenges her. I'm not going to lie, her love for literature is the author showing themselves in the fictional character. But that's totally okay because every writer leaves a part of themselves in the characters they create.

I tried to make her as relatable to the person reading as her as I was able. Besides a couple of mentions of the quite big difference in height between her and Aemond, I decided not to describe her physical appearance so you the reader can see yourself in her, act in this role even. In this I got inspired by some amazing modern AUs where a reader can wholly become The Reader.

On the other hand, I needed her to be three-dimensional at the same time. In the process she became a mixture of my favourite characters and the women in my life. Confident in what she wants and needs but not free from self-doubt, realistic but romantic, in touch with her feelings but sometimes too much that it causes her distress, empathetic but prejudiced in some cases (Aemond at the beginning). Indeed it was the women I'm influenced by that inspired to write the Reader in this particular way.

Why do you think your Reader complements Aemond so well?

I think that my Reader and Aemond complement each other because they're interested in literature and relate to each other's love for their siblings, but also because they differ in so many aspects. They naturally challenge each other and not only in a fun way that excites them, but also so they're able to grow as individual people–find and reveal hidden sides they were too afraid to act on.

Was there another characters in your story you enjoyed writing?

I really enjoyed writing the Reader’s sister Argella. She was the only OC in this story–besides the Reader of course if we can consider her to be an OC–that i made from scratch.

Argella and Reader’s relationship was inspired by the one I have with my sister but changed slightly into something even more special, deep in understanding of one another. A truly profound sisterhood. Besides that I loved throwing in these little moments of her and Helaena together and I can’t wait to write a one shot where we’ll get to know Argella as a character and which will delve into the girls’ relationship.

Do you think there be a sequel? Or do you have anything else you are working on next?

I don’t think there’s a need for a sequel. The Epilogue was written in a way that both concludes the story but allows us to imagine their life after it. There might be one shots if anyone requested something that would added to the story.

For now I’d like to focus on the rewriting of my first Aemond fic titled Of Blood and Fire which I’m currently in the middle of and an upcoming Tom Bennet story - As The World Burns. In both cases the romantic interests are original female characters, which are just so fun to create. Also one shots are to be always expected because my mind comes up with too many ideas. It’s just too little time to bring them all to life.

But one will be posted soon as part of your/arcielee’s 1k celebration! All I can say is keep an eye on my blog 🤭

Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?

I thoroughly enjoyed @adragonprinceswhore 's “Warm Me Up” one shot and I see she’s got a series inspired by Fleetwood Mac, which sounds amazing!

"Come Back To Me" by @assortedseaglass has a special place in my heart because it was the very first Billy Washington fic I have ever read. "My Heart Belongs To Daddy" was the first fic of @humanpurposes that I read and in my top 5 of favourite modern AUs.

Also, @endless-ineffabilities series Maroon captured my heart! It’s been months since I read it and I’m still thinking about it.

#iwaw #iwaw17 #interview with a writer #bts #of their brilliant writing #writing community #a refined taste

[darnestdungeon]

Tumblr started turning gifs into webp when you try to save them, so here’s the link for the walking DD heroes from my previous post, in case you want them!

Put them under your email signature, it will sure look professional :)

I’ve got the idea to make those gifs after seeing this post, it just looked so cute! Little guys walking across your screen! What if I did the same with the gifs I ripped from Darkest Dungeon? My mind was set, I just needed to make a gif slide to the right, how hard could that be?

(…A lengthy backstage process after the read more...)

If you have an easy solution that could have ended my headache much sooner, please let me know, I'd love to learn. But yeah, it didn’t take long before I noticed I had no clue how to achieve my goal. The problem consisted in how to deal with two simultaneous but different types of movement in one gif (the walking animation + the sliding to the right animation), all while preserving the quality and transparency.

First thing that came into mind was manually moving each frame of the walking gifs a little to the right but it would take SO much time and it would be SO boring I refused to even consider it again. Even with automate actions it would take so fucking long, there have got to be a better way, I mean, it was literally just sliding a gif to the right.

I’ve tried searching for sites that could let me do it to no avail. I did find GIPHY’s gif editor though, it allowed me to edit the gifs in very pleasing ways, totally not vomit inducing (albeit not transparent, it lost some points on that front).

I’ve considered some screen capture gimmicks with an open source software called ScreenToGif but I already knew from experience that the background removal function leaves behind ugly artifacts in the borders of the gifs, same thing with OBS.

I’ve tried looking up in DragonBones, the very own software I’ve used to export the game assets, but I could not figure out a way to make the whole thing move together all while having the regular animation play on loop, if that makes sense? But then again, I didn’t look much into it because I’ve finally had an idea that would work!

I could use a video editing software to make it all happen! I even had a very good open source software installed already, kdenlive! There was an initial problem where I could not figure out how to preserve the transparency, kdenlive would always render the gifs with black backgrounds. But after some googling I’ve found out you could render a video with alpha, so all I would have to do in the end was to convert the video back into a gif!!

First, I’ve rendered a video consisting of 10 sequences in a row of the walking hero gif, so the loop was long enough so they could walk all the way across the borders of the video (the original gif only lasted 1 second). I’ve done that 18 times, one for each hero– NOT counting all the times I had to try and try again for some, ignore the rest of the paragraph, it’s all technical problems. Some kept turning out with white borders around the heroes for some unknown reason (anti, sb, crusader and arb). The problem went away after I used the original untrimmed gif for each of them but THEN I had to redo crusader’s gif from the DragonBones project up because there was too much empty space around his gif in particular and then it would look small in the end if I hadn’t redone it. Reynauld, always the problem boy.

Then I had to find out how to change kdenlive’s project resolution to fit each final gif dimensions. I guess I didn’t quite figured out how to change it in the end, but I did notice whenever you bring an image that’s not quite the size of the default project, the software would ask if you wanted to switch to that resolution. So I took note of each of their heights and then saved white rectangles measuring 2000px width x their respective heights. All I had to do now was drop the right rectangle into the project before editing said hero and we’re set!

I’ve chosen 2000px as width resolution because then the gifs would look very tiny when sized down in Tumblr’s dashboard! But afterwards I realized that choice meant I could not optimally use my convertor of choice (EZGIF.com, a free and excellent gif editing site) to turn the videos back into gifs, because there was a limit on the resolutions, the gifs with height higher than 300 would turn out all deformed, and the other option would make the quality way too shitty. Luckily by the end I found out Photoshop had an option to import videos as animation frames, and all I had to do was save them as gif directly from PS, with no resolution constraints!

Anyways, let’s wrap this up because I’m getting incredible tired just from recalling and typing it up everything that I’ve done yesterday. I’ve literally spent the entire day on this silly project.

After I had the alpha movs of their looping walk cycles, all I had to do was to drop the respective rectangle into the project (to change the project's resolution to match it to the hero’s height) and then drag the mov to the timeline and apply a transformation effect with two key frames: one at the start of the clip moving the clip so it starts from out of the left border of the screen, and the other key frame by the end of the clip, with the clip ending outside the right border. Doing it so would make the whole clip slide across the screen, appearing on the left and disappearing on the right!

I also had to figure out how to make it start with them already on the screen instead of the gif starting on an empty screen, but cutting the video would interfere with the transformation effects, so I had to render it first and edit it again later (I cut a little bit of the beginning of the video and pasted it back on the end). Luckily rendering those tiny gifs only took like 3 seconds each, because I basically had to do it thrice for each gifs.

After turning them all back into gifs in PS it was done!! I saved two versions, one original sized and one 50% smaller, just because I know there are people out there with internet connections that could not handle loading a gifset of 10 gifs at around 4MB each.

And that was it, I’ve learned a lot, I’m never doing anything like this again :)) thanks for reading it all if you did, I'm so so tired

#flashing gif #inside the post #dd gifs #masochist gif making adventures #I guess that tag is still useful!!

[some-rando-with-internet]

WIP List

Yeah incase you didn’t know, I do some writing, and as of today, here’s what I’m working on.

Here Lies John Doe

[Early drafts, some piece on tumblr]

“I am me. I have to be… right?”

What happens when all you know is a lie? If everyone you knew was fabricated? If your only anchor was who put you here?

Local man goes fucking insane because of it.

There is no saving him.

This story doesn’t have a happy ending.

At least He’s sarcastic about it.

—————————————————————————

Fighting Fire

[Fleshed out idea, no concrete material yet]

“Bite, claw, scratch, do everything you can, but do not go quietly.”

Some kid steals some superpowers on accident. A controlling company hates that. Characters interact and switch sides, back and forth, across battle lines. Oh, and a few people die.

My attempt at crossing the boundaries of manga and written literature. How do you translate the thorough beatdown of visuals in enough detail to sate my thirst for verbose phrasing while not sacrificing the pacing? Watch me struggle to find out. Or not. I guess we’ll see.

—————————————————————————

Pupula Carnis (Working title)

[Theoretical idea. Creation is up in the air.]

“It translates too… ‘Puppet of flesh’.”

A simple retail worker is riding his commute back to work in his air ship. It the gets hit by a mcfucking meteor. It also held some humanoid being from the stars. Now, this random dude is protected by a biomancer. A few people die. A bit. Maybe.

An unholy fusion of Mystery, Slice of Life, and Cosmic horror, the story sees the main two deuteragonists as they trek across floating isles in search of answers to why the fuck everything is happening, and why the government is after them. People die, and it’s played for comedy. So uh, yeah watch out.

—————————————————————————

A Sinner’s Death Spiral

[Theoretical Idea, creation only possible.]

“Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and never again.”

He’s lost track of how many times it’s been. He knows everything about them now. The Young fool, always running into danger, shielding his own insecurities. The Jaded medic, desperately attempting to never live his trauma again, and prevent anyone else from experiencing it. The Prodigy mage, prideful acts showboating and powerful, so that he won’t be abandoned again. Again… again, and again, and again. Whatever he does, this cage holds him still. The monster dies, the monster lives, the monster atones, it all happens again. And only he can tell. Until he gets a visitor.

Time loops aren’t fun to be in, especially without escape. But what if someone joined you? What if they wrote new lines for themselves? What if they started remembering? Maybe, maybe there is hope.

Maybe.

—————————————————————————

Bane of Asimov (working title)

[Look I’m really attached to this idea]

“Oh shit, a Metal Gear reference.”

Based entirely on the “Entente” CYOA, Some robotic bitch decides to cause problems for literally everyone. He is the hero.

Watch any semblance of order collapse in on itself as this idiot whom I barely control beats the shit out of every problem he has until it eventually works, and/or he achieves a moment of clarity and actually puzzle solves for once in his life.

#my writing #writeblr #wip list

[hamliet]

I know it’s been years since you’ve received a question like this, but you were one of the top results when I search for tumblr advice on writing twins—so, as someone without a twin, are there any tips you have? The story I’m writing is very heavily focused on twins, which was unexpected, but I really want to do it right. It tells the interconnected story of three generations of twins and their tragic endings, despite the efforts of an immortal prophet who lost his own twin. A reoccurrence is the idea of a supposed ‘good’ and ‘bad’ twin, which each pair does their best to reject, since the main theme is the inevitability of tragedy yet the human love that existed and mattered, but I don’t want to fall into stereotypes regarding this, and I want to portray a different relationship for each pair of twins.

again, I understand if you don’t want to answer this question, but I really like this story and want to get it right so I’ve just been hunting down twin tips

thank you <3

Hi! Don't worry, and thank you for taking so much care in writing twins!

To start with, I just want to say that I love your overall theme--"the inevitability of tragedy yet the human love that existed and mattered." It reminds me of this post I reblogged the other day because it explains what the appeal of tragedy is so well--it's human to love something even when you know it's doomed to die. What else is life made of, after all? We'll all see human loved ones die, and our beloved pets, and so on. But it doesn't make it any less worthy of love.

Anyways. To go back to the twin thing. I think your premise is quite interesting and could be really cool, because it seems as if it's deliberately taking one of the worst twin tropes--good twin/bad twin--and deconstructing it in a sense. It seems like you're already aware of what the flaws of this trope and mindset are, in that categorizing human beings is not only limiting but dehumanizing. So when you write your twins, I would just keep them as their own characters rather than half of a character who exists as a whole only when they're with their twin--even as others seek to define them by each other, or at least cast light on how others defining them by each other is flawed, if that makes sense?

TBH, if you focus on writing good characters, even if they seem to fall into that stereotype, I think you'll be just fine. My issue with a lot of bad twin portrayals is that they portray them as half of a person rather than a full human on their own. You sound incredibly thoughtful, and I think that bodes well for your writing.

Best of luck! Feel free to ask anything else if you'd like!

#ask hamliet #writing #twins

[kmomof4]

Crash Landings: A New Fic by @kmomof4

Story Summary: From a May 10, 2022 CNN article shared in the CSMM pitch channel: A passenger with no flying experience landed a plane at a Florida airport after the pilot became incapacitated. After a few ideas were batted around, I settled on this one and ran with it. I had a lot of fun writing it and hope y’all enjoy!

All the love and thanks in the world to @jrob64​ for her betaing expertise, help with the art, and all her encouragement. It’s thanks to her that the fic didn’t end with Killian asking Emma out, so if you like the rest of the fic, be sure to thank her!

A/N: In this universe, Emma and Neal have been divorced for five years but have an amicable relationship. Neal is not a complete asshole. Also, I am not a pilot, nor do I play one on TV, so all things that have to do with flying in this fic are the result of Google searches and input from my dad who was a navigator in the Air Force when I was very young. It’s fanfiction, y’all. Just go with it…

Rating: G (although there is major character peril at the beginning of the fic, but everyone is fine.)

Words: 8300

Tags: Major Character Peril

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @branlovestowrite​ @thisonesatellite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​ @jrob64​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @zaharadessert​ @elizabeethan​ @xhookswenchx​ @gingerpolyglot​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @sailtoafarawayland​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @deckerstarblanche​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @batana54​ @purplehawkcaptain​ @k-leemac​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @apiratewhopines​ @killiansqueenofthejollyroger​ @onceuponahookandswan​ @meat-pie-with-sauce​ @cosette141​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @xarandomdreamx​ @fleurdepetite​ @hookmecaptain​ @o-wild-west-wind​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

 “Ahhh, Ch-Charleston, Cessna 172,” Neal Cassidy groaned, identifying himself and contacting Air Traffic Control at the Charleston International Airport, where he was due to land in about twelve minutes, bringing his son Henry home after his summer visitation.

They’d had a great time for the past three months. Multiple trips to the plethora of museums the city had to offer, The Lion King and Aladdin on Broadway, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island tour were just some of the adventures they’d had since Neal picked his son up back at the end of May. But school was starting back up next week and he and his ex-wife Emma thought it’d be best for Henry to have a few days to adjust back into his usual routine before school actually started.

“This is Charleston, Cessna. Go ahead,” the voice crackled over the headset.

“Um, I’m not feeling… too great at the moment, Charleston,” he bit out. His chest was tight, his arms ached, and he was having trouble drawing in a deep breath. “My chest hurts and…” He grimaced in pain as the tightening turned into an agonizing pressure that literally took his breath away. His vision darkened at the edges and moments later he lost consciousness, slumping over the controls.

“Dad? Dad! Wake up, Dad!” Henry cried, terrified when his father fell forward into the controls of the small aircraft. He took the headset off of his dad and placed it on his own head. “Charleston?” Henry asked into the headset.

“This is Charleston, Cessna. Is this the pilot?”

“No, no,” Henry rushed to inform the air traffic controller. “My dad just passed out. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He said his chest hurt and then he fell against the controls. I pulled him back and put on the headset, but I don’t know what to do.” Henry couldn’t keep the terror out of his voice nor the tears out of his eyes as he did his best to explain what happened.

“What’s your name, Cessna? And how old are you?”

“My name’s Henry Cassidy and I’m ten.”

Killian Jones took a deep breath and said a quick prayer. “Are you and your dad the only ones on the plane, Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ok. My name’s Killian, Henry, and I’m going to make sure you land safely and that your dad gets the help he needs, ok?” He injected every ounce of calm he could into his voice as he ordered emergency vehicles to the runway. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to help conduct an emergency landing, but it was the first time he’d ever had to guide a child in doing it.

“Ok,” Henry said, his voice quivering just a bit.

“Alright, Henry,” Killian said, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. “Has your dad ever shown you anything about flying? What any of the controls are or what they do?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered. “Sometimes he lets me steer the plane and he’s shown me the altitude and horizon thingie and the fuel gauge.”

“That is great, Henry. Your dad has done a fantastic job getting you prepared…” Killian trailed off for a moment, unsure what to say next. He didn’t want to further alarm the boy by saying out loud that this was an emergency situation, but he needed to encourage Henry that he already had a leg up over someone who’d never been in a cockpit of an aircraft before. A burst of inspiration hit him and before he could overthink it, he continued. “...getting you prepared to be a pilot yourself someday. Ok, Henry, your dad had already begun his descent and was starting to turn toward the airport. Can you tell me what you can see straight ahead?”

“Yeah,” Henry assured him. “I can see the coast on my right, but we’re still out over the ocean. I can see… it looks like an interstate and I can see the bay.”

“Ok, that’s very good, Henry,” Killian praised him. “Turn toward the bay and you should be able to see the airport not far beyond it.”

Henry had been in the cockpit of the Cessna enough times over the years that he remembered how his dad would line up with the bay when they approached the airport. He did what Killian said and it was only a minute or so when he could see the airport straight ahead of him, the air traffic control tower off to the right.

“I can see it! I can see it!” Henry cried. A huge grin split Killian’s face as he listened to the elated little boy.

“Very good, Henry. You���re doing great.” The control tower had gone silent as Killian’s fellow controllers were riveted to the drama playing out. The other planes that were waiting to land or take off had all been put on a different frequency to keep the distractions between Henry and Killian to a minimum, and were in a holding pattern until Henry could, hopefully, safely land. “Ok, we’re going to get the plane ready to land now. I’m going to talk you through lowering the wing flaps, alright, Henry?”

“Oh, I know how to do that!” Henry exclaimed, excitedly. “My dad showed me!”

“Excellent, Henry. Go ahead and lower them then,” Killian urged him. “Slow and steady, but make sure you don’t do it too slowly or it could stall the plane.” He looked up and could see the Cessna in the distance. It was way too high to hit the runway, but at least it was level with neither wing dipping and Killian’s heart rate picked up even more as he took a deep breath and waited for Henry to respond to his instruction.

“Ok, it’s done,” Henry said. “I’m at full flaps.”

“Well done, Henry,” Killian encouraged him. “I can see the plane and you should be able to see the runway and see the emergency vehicles waiting for you.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Very good. Now what I need you to do is to move the power lever out - not too far and not too fast. Right there in the middle. Do you see it, Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Move it down slowly into idle and the nose of the plane should begin to dip. We want your front wheel to hit the runway first. As soon as all the wheels hit the tarmac, you’ll need to apply the brakes. Are you tall enough to reach the pedals and still see through the windshield, Henry?”

Henry stretched his legs out from where he sat and could just touch the rudder pedals for the plane, but when he looked up at the windshield in front of the seat, he could no longer see the runway or even the airport anymore. “No, sir, I can’t. I can touch the pedals, but I can’t see in front of me when I do.”

Killian’s heart rate picked up even more as he realized just how much danger Henry was now in. His eyes cut over to his friend and colleague Robin Locksley who nodded in support. Taking a deep breath and sending up another prayer, Killian turned back to his charge.

“Ok, Henry, it’s more important for you to be able to see than to bring the plane to a stop at this point. Once the plane’s wheels hit the ground, friction will slow it down enough, but we want to make sure you hit the runway and not some other building at the airport,” Killian said. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Henry’s voice quavered as he sat back up in the seat so he could see the runway in front of him.

“Excellent, Henry. Now move the power lever.” It seemed to take forever. The plane was rapidly approaching and still a little too high. Suddenly, the nose of the plane dipped and the plane dropped, now only about fifty feet from the runway and maybe twenty feet above it. Killian watched from his place in the tower, his heart in his throat as he sent up a fervent prayer that Henry would be able to land the plane safely.

The wheels touched down, but the small aircraft bounced back into the air slightly before coming back down and going into a spin across the runway. One of the back wheels broke off and went flying, dipping one wing toward the tarmac, and intensifying the spinning of the plane as it careened toward the infield. Killian felt sick as the plane finally came to a stop about fifty yards from the air traffic control tower.

“Henry, are you there?” Killian asked, anxiously. “Are you alright?”

“I’m here, Killian,” the boy answered. “I’m ok.” As soon as Henry’s voice came across the frequency, a jubilant shout went up from the other controllers. Killian laughed in relieved elation as he removed his headset and started toward the door that would take him down to the infield so he could see for himself that Henry was alright. He wondered who he might have waiting for him and his dad here at the airport and could only hope whoever it was hadn’t realized this particular plane had contained the boy and his father.

As he opened the door of the control room, he could hear Robin reporting to the other waiting aircraft that the ten year old accidental pilot had landed the plane and was ok.

“Are you serious? That was a kid?” another pilot asked. “I’m sure glad he’s ok.” Killian silently agreed as he ran down the stairs to the runway.

“Henry! Henry!” he cried, waving like mad and sprinting toward the plane, where the little boy was just climbing out. The emergency vehicles were already there, a paramedic approaching Henry while two others attended to his father on the other side of the plane. Killian made it to them just as the paramedic was checking Henry over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted, just before he winced as the paramedic ran his hands over Henry’s hips. Henry pulled his pants down just enough for them all to see an already colorful bruise where the seatbelt must have caught him as the airplane landed.

Suddenly Killian heard a new voice from the direction of the terminal. Henry’s head snapped up and Killian turned to see a gorgeous blonde running toward them.

“Mom!” Henry cried, pulling away from them both and running toward the woman. She caught him in her arms, holding him close as Killian and the paramedic approached.

The fear and panic on her face was clear as she looked at the paramedic. “Is he ok?”

“Just some bruising from the seatbelt,” he informed her.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, closing her eyes and holding her son even tighter. Her eyes opened again and met Killian’s as she set Henry back down on the ground. He held his hand out to the stunning beauty, feeling a bit bashful as he did.

“Killian… oof,” his introduction was cut off as Henry flung his arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Killian helped me land the plane, Mom,” he informed her, releasing him and turning toward her again.

The woman let go a breathy exclamation at Henry’s statement. “You landed the plane?” she asked, looking back toward the aircraft. “What happened?” Her countenance was dismayed as she looked past Killian to where the paramedics were getting Henry’s dad on a stretcher and heading toward the ambulance. They all moved toward the medical personnel and Killian could see Henry’s eyes begin to fill with tears as they got closer.

“I don’t know, Mom,” Henry said. “He said his chest hurt and then he fell over on the controls. I took the headset and Killian here helped me land the plane.”

“Oh, God,” she breathed, turning toward Killian. He scratched behind his ear in a nervous gesture as he held out his other hand. She completely ignored his outstretched hand and hugged him tightly instead. Immensely pleased, Killian reciprocated the hug.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed.

“It was my pleasure, milady,” he assured her as he let go. “But Henry is the real hero here, I was just doing my job. Killian Jones,” he finally introduced himself, holding his hand out to her for the third time.

“Emma Swan,” she replied, taking it in her own.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

They all turned back to the paramedics who were getting ready to load the patient into the ambulance. The man’s eyes were open and Killian breathed a sigh of relief.

“Is he going to be ok?” Henry asked, tears shining in his eyes.

“They’ll have to run tests at the hospital, but it looks like it was an angina attack. We’re taking him to MUSC,” the paramedic told him. Henry moved closer and rubbed his dad’s arm before he was loaded into the ambulance.

“I’ll be fine, buddy,” the man said. “I’ll see you at the hospital, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Emma affirmed before Henry could speak. “We’ll be right behind you. I’ll call Tink.”

“Thanks, Em.”

As soon as the doors of the ambulance shut, Henry turned and threw his arms around Killian’s waist again.

“Thank you for helping me, Killian,” he choked out.

“Of course, lad.”

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” Emma admitted, her own tears close to the surface.

Killian scratched behind his ear again. He didn’t see a ring on Emma’s finger and he also noticed that her last name was different from Henry’s, so he was hoping she might be single.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a cup of coffee?”

Emma smiled with definite interest in her eyes and Killian felt a wide grin split his face.

“I think that could be arranged,” she replied. She took her phone out of her pocket and handed it to him after unlocking it. “Put your name and number in here. After I’m sure Neal is going to be ok and everything settles down, I’ll give you a call.”

“I will look forward to it,” he assured her, putting his information into her phone.

“Yay!” Henry cried. “I’ll see you later, Killian! Thanks again!”

Killian took Emma’s hand in his own and raised it to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his lips.

“Until we meet again, Emma.”

“I’ll see you soon, Killian.”

~*~*~

Saturday afternoon, Killian came inside after finishing the lawn work he’d been engaged in most of the day. His grass was cut, lawn edged, hedges trimmed, and weeds pulled from the flower beds ready for the fall mums he’d be planting in the next few weeks.

Using the hem of the t-shirt he wore, he wiped his face as his cell phone began to ring. An unknown number with a local area code showed on the screen and he couldn’t help his anxious inhale and rising heartbeat as he answered, desperately hoping it was Emma.

“Hello?”

“Killian?”

A huge grin crossed his face. “Emma,” he exclaimed. “I’m so glad you called. How’s Henry after his adventure yesterday? How’s Neal?” He hoped he had the name of Henry’s dad correct as he waited for her to speak.

“Henry’s fine,” she assured him. “None the worse for wear after all the excitement yesterday. I was a little concerned that he’d have trouble sleeping last night, after seeing his dad like that and the crash landing, but he didn’t.”

“I’m so glad,” Killian said. “Bless him, I could hear in his voice how frightened he was for his dad. Speaking of, how is he?”

“He’s doing better,” she informed him. “The doctors still need to run some more tests, so he’ll be in the hospital until at least Monday. But so far, they’re thinking it was an angina attack. His wife got in this afternoon and we just got back from taking her to the hospital.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” There was a brief pause and he could hear Emma take a deep breath on the other end of the line. He smiled, hoping he knew what she would say next.

“So, I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer for coffee,” Emma asked, her voice sounding almost shy.

“I would love to take you out for coffee, Emma,” he began, “but I wondered, since it’s the weekend, if perhaps we could make it lunch tomorrow?” Killian knew he was taking a risk, and scratched at the spot behind his ear in his nervousness. His brother, Liam, had recently told him about a wonderful restaurant downtown he and his wife had discovered called Magnolia’s that he thought would be a very nice, but unthreatening, location for a first date. And when he’d gone to the website himself, he saw they were open for Sunday brunch.

“I can do that,” she said, smiling into the phone. She had to admit, her heart beat just a little faster at the thought of a real date with the handsome air traffic controller, rather than just meeting for coffee. “Henry has plans tomorrow to visit his best friend he hasn’t seen all summer. He lives about ten minutes away from us. Would you mind if we dropped him off over there before heading out to lunch?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he assured her. “It would be great to see him again and it’d give me a chance to give him his pilot’s wings for landing the plane. What time can I pick you up and what’s your address?”

“Awwww!” she exclaimed. “You don’t need to do that, but I’m sure he’ll be so excited. How about you pick us up about eleven and I’ll text you my address?”

“That will be fine, Emma. I’ll see you both tomorrow at eleven, then.” He hung up, a wide smile on his lips that he would have been hard pressed to wipe off if his life depended on it. A moment later, he received a text with an address that was only a couple of neighborhoods over from his own home. Opening his phone again, he pulled up Magnolia’s website and made reservations for two at eleven thirty the next day before heading to his bathroom to shower.

~*~*~

Killian stood on the front stoop of the Swan household holding a small bouquet of sunflowers in his hand and trying desperately not to scratch behind his ear in his nervousness. The door opened and Killian grinned down at Henry whose smile completely lit up his face.

“Hi, Killian!”

“Hello, lad,” he replied.

“Are those for my mom?”

Killian looked at the flowers and could feel the heat begin to creep up his neck onto his face.

“Uh, yes,” he stammered. “Yes, they are. Do you think she’ll like them?”

Killian didn’t think Henry’s grin could get any bigger, but he was obviously mistaken. “She’ll love them,” he assured him.

“Hi, Killian.” A new voice joined them and Killian looked up and struggled to keep his jaw from dropping. Emma wore a coral sleeveless blouse tucked into cool white linen pants and strappy coral sandals. Her hair was gathered into a messy braid that rested on her shoulder with soft tendrils framing her face. She was a vision and Killian had to remind himself to breathe.

He thrust his hand holding the flowers toward her and was gratified at the surprised smile on her face. “For you,” he said. “The color reminded me of your hair.” He blushed at his admission and smiled when her own cheeks reddened in response.

Biting her bottom lip through her smile, she took them and brought them to her nose to smell. “They’re beautiful,” she breathed. “Thank you so much. Sunflowers always make me think of fall. It’s my favorite season.”

“Mine as well, Emma,” he replied. “The cooler weather, fall colors, football, all the things autumn brings.” Looking down at Henry, Killian continued, “And come Thanksgiving, we’ll have much to celebrate, won’t we?”

A soft smile graced Emma’s face as she looked at her son. “We will. Let me put these in water, and I’ll be ready to go.” She turned away back into the house, leaving Henry and Killian alone for a moment.

“That reminds me,” Killian said, reaching into the pocket of the suit jacket he wore. Pulling out a small pin, he knelt down in front of the boy. “This is an official Aviator Wing pin that’s often given to student pilots after they solo for the first time. Since you’ve had your first solo flight and brought the plane in safely, I thought it was appropriate for you to have this.” Killian looked up and saw Emma standing at the back of the foyer with tears in her eyes. He smiled gently at her before looking at Henry again.

 The boy's face was a stunned O of surprise as he shook his head. “But I crashed the plane. I’m not a real pilot, Killian.”

“You may not be a real pilot, Henry, but you did fly and land the plane. And in the words of a very famous pilot, any landing you walk away from is a good landing. So, yes, you do deserve these wings.”

Henry smiled and stood up as straight as he could as Killian reached out and pinned it to the t-shirt he wore. “Congratulations, my boy.”

“Thanks, Killian.”

Killian rose to his feet again and smiled at Emma as she moved toward them. Henry turned and puffed out his chest so his mom could see his new ornamentation.

“Look what Killian gave me, Mom!” he exclaimed. “A real aviator pin!”

Emma nodded and smiled. “Yes, I saw,” she said, beaming down at him. “Well done. I’m very proud of you.” She looked back up at Killian, her eyes sparkling.

Killian held his elbow out to her. “Shall we, milady? Sir?”

“Yes!” Henry shouted and ran down the front walk to Killian’s SS Chevelle parked at the curb. Emma looped her arm in Killian’s and he smiled as he escorted her to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for her. Henry was already making himself at home in the back, bouncing on the seat.

“Put your seatbelt on, lad,” Killian admonished him as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Yes, sir.” Killian smiled at the manners of the boy. He’d noticed them on Friday during the landing, but with the unfolding crisis and everything literally up in the air, he hadn’t had a chance to really think about it until presented with them again. Henry chattered from the backseat until Killian pulled up in front of Henry’s best friend, Nicholas’s, house.

Emma walked her son to the front door and was back in her seat just a few minutes later.

“He was so proud of that pin you gave him, Killian,” she informed him. “He couldn’t wait to show Nicholas.” She turned more fully toward him on her seat and placed her hand on his upper arm as he drove. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

Killian turned toward her slightly and smiled. “I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. What he did Friday was a huge accomplishment and it needed to be commemorated. It could have turned out much worse. For his dad and for him.” He looked at her meaningfully. “It was truly my pleasure, Swan. I wanted to do it.”

Emma tilted her head with a smile. “Swan?”

“Oh,” Killian said, heat moving up his neck. “Uh, I just thought… um… it’s just a lovely name and it suits you. I hope you don’t mind.”

The smile that graced her face was small and shy, but it still made Killian’s heart beat faster as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“No, I don’t mind.”

Killian smiled as he turned his attention back to the road. “My brother and his wife told me about this place downtown they discovered called Magnolia’s that they really enjoyed for their anniversary a couple of months ago, so I thought we could try it today. It specializes in Southern comfort food.”

“Sounds great.”

A few minutes later, they arrived at the downtown establishment. Killian hurried around to the other side of the car and opened the door for her, taking her hand and tucking it into his elbow as they walked toward the front door of the restaurant.

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured.

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan.” He opened the door for her and was greeted by the hostess. “Reservations for two under the name Jones.”

“I have you right here, Mr. Jones,” she said, with a bright smile. “Follow me, please.”

She led them further into the restaurant and Killian found himself taking in the somewhat rustic, yet very elegant surroundings. The entire back wall of the restaurant was rough hewn wood and filled with wide and tall windows letting in abundant natural light that gave the entire space a very open and warm feel. The tables were dressed with white tablecloths with a small vase of deep pink flowers in the center. When they arrived at their table, Killian pulled out Emma’s chair and seated her at the table before taking his own.

“I looked over the menu yesterday when I made the reservation and I think I’m going to get the Salmon Cakes Benedict. Poached eggs, wilted spinach, English muffin, dill hollandaise, and hash browns.”

“That sounds delicious,” Emma said, looking over her own menu. “Ooo, I think I’ll have the Banana Pudding Stuffed French Toast.”

“Excellent choice, I’m sure.” After giving their order to the waiter, Killian smiled across the table at Emma.

“So, you have a brother?” Emma asked.

“Yes, one older,” he informed her. He rolled his eyes, but the affection within them was still clear as he continued. “To this day, he insists on calling me his little brother. Drives me crazy. He’s the harbor master. He and Elsa have been married ten years and have two boys, Aiden and Colten, and a daughter due next month.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening his Instagram. “This is them when we celebrated the 4th.”

Emma grinned as she saw the two boys with their uncle. The smiles on all their faces were wide and Emma could see the resemblance between Killian and his nephews in their bright blue eyes and the shape of one of the boy's noses and the other's ears.

“That’s wonderful that your family is so close by,” Emma commented.

“It really is,” he agreed. “My work schedule means I don’t get to see them all as often as I’d like, but I couldn’t imagine how much worse it’d be if they lived out of town, or God forbid, out of state!” His eyes widened a bit in horror, and Emma couldn’t help but giggle a little at the sight. “What about you?” he asked. “Do you have family close by?”

Emma looked down briefly before meeting his gaze again. She wouldn’t normally be sharing this kind of information on a first date, but he had asked, and it wasn’t like he had any way of knowing her comfort level with the topic of conversation.

“No, actually,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Henry is the only family I have. Although I do have a good relationship with his dad. I was an orphan and raised in foster care.” She shrugged and looked in his eyes. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but she was surprised to find admiration mixed with sorrow at her revelation.

“I’m sorry you had to live through that, Emma. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t. But my upbringing made me the person I am today, setting me on a very fulfilling career path and I can’t regret that.”

“That’s an excellent attitude to have,” he said, nodding.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I met Neal when I was a senior in high school. He was older, but I didn’t care. We got married by the Justice of the Peace when I was 19 after a pregnancy scare that turned out to be nothing. Henry was born when I was 24 and Neal was 30. By the time Henry was five, we knew our marriage wasn’t working. We weren’t in love anymore, if we’d ever truly been, and so we decided to split instead of essentially lying to ourselves and Henry.”

Killian nodded in understanding and Emma felt a sense of relief so profound that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Here she was, essentially telling a complete stranger her life story and somehow she knew the knowledge would be safe with him. There was no judgment in his eyes. Just an acceptance and pride that she would expect out of a close friend or ally, not a man she’d only met a couple of days before.

“You said your upbringing set you on your career path,” Killian observed. “What is that, if I may ask.”

Emma grinned and her eyes lit up. “Of course! I’m a social worker. Growing up on the other side of the equation, I wanted to do my part in making a difference in other kids' lives. I was lucky, where so many other kids aren’t. I was raised by the same woman from the time I was four. But she passed away before Henry was born. She got to see me graduate with my degree, though.”

“That’s wonderful,” Killian enthused. “I’m so glad you at least had that stability as you grew up.” He cut his eyes away from her briefly before returning his gaze to her own. “I have a similar story,” he informed her. “Our mother died when I was young and our father abandoned us not long after. We were also raised in foster care by Captain Nemo.” He smiled at the memory. “He was the harbormaster when we were growing up. Brought Liam on when he was fifteen.”

Their waiter approached with their meals then, interrupting their conversation. After he withdrew, Emma invited Killian to continue.

“He passed not long after Liam and Elsa married,” he continued. “By then, Liam had worked his way up the ranks at the harbor and he was able to step into his shoes nicely.” Killian smiled. “I love the water as much as they both did, but I’d always been more fascinated by planes. I wasn’t interested in being a commercial pilot, but wanted to be an air traffic controller instead. Nemo made sure I could follow my dream.”

Emma smiled softly. “Looks like we were both lucky in our upbringings.”

Killian looked into her eyes. The green shone in the light from the windows, but he couldn’t be sure if there were tears or not. He had to admit, bringing back these memories and sharing them with someone was choking him up just a bit.

“I rather think they’re blessings from God,” he mused, thoughtfully. “I tend to think that things happen for a reason…” he trailed away for a moment before continuing. “Makes more sense of the universe that way.”

“I can see that,” Emma agreed. “Looking back over my life, I realize how very lucky, uh, blessed, I have been. Being raised by Ingrid, who made sure I could follow my dream. Even though we’re divorced, Neal gave me Henry and I could never regret that. Plus the fact that we really have a good relationship. Probably better now than when we were married, honestly,” she laughed lightly.

Killian nodded and chuckled. “It seemed that way when you spoke to him before they took him in the ambulance.”

“Yeah,” Emma continued. “There haven’t been any custody issues, and we’re both in agreement on how Henry should be raised. We’ve been divorced five years now and Henry spends his summers with Neal and we switch off for fall and spring breaks and Thanksgiving and Christmas. This year, he’ll be here for fall break and Christmas and spend Thanksgiving and spring break in New York City with his dad and step-mother, Tink.”

Killian’s eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline and Emma had to bite back her chuckle. “Tink?” he asked. “Like Tinkerbell?”

“She has very pixie-like features, and apparently always has,” Emma told him, “So she insisted on being called Tink from the first time she saw Disney’s Peter Pan when she was four.” They laughed together for a moment before Emma continued. “I want to say her legal name is Tina, but I can’t swear to it. They’re expecting their first child in January and Henry is beside himself. He can’t wait to be a big brother.”

Killian grinned widely. “That’s wonderful. I can imagine. So he’ll be able to meet his baby brother or sister over spring break? Or will he be able to go see them in January? Do they know what they’re having yet?”

“Actually no,” she said. “They haven’t decided whether to find out or not. They have an envelope on their kitchen table with the results of the ultrasound she had a couple of weeks ago. Henry is even more beside himself over that. He’ll have to wait until spring break though, to get to meet him or her in person, but they call every week and FaceTime, so we’ll get to see the little one before then.”

“That is great. I’m glad he’s excited.” The conversation continued, bouncing between everything from current movies to hobbies they both enjoyed.

Killian took his last bite and sat back in his seat. “This was delicious.”

“It was,” Emma agreed, swirling her finger in the peanut butter syrup still covering her plate before sucking it off. She looked across the table at her companion and saw how his eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly at her action. A shiver of attraction raced down her spine and what she hoped was a flirty smile lifted her lips as she watched him. His eyes darkened and a smirk graced his mouth, giving him a roguish look that only made the shiver intensify.

“Bad form, Swan,” he said huskily. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“And I like the gentleman,” she said, lifting her eyebrow slightly. “But that doesn’t mean there can’t be a little fun.”

“A very little, Swan.” He took a deep breath and reached across the table to take her hands. His smile and the look in his eye was genuine and Emma felt her respect for the man in front of her suddenly skyrocket. “I don’t date much,” he informed her seriously. “I never have, really. Most women I’ve gone out with were only interested in one thing and I was raised to respect women and to treasure and protect a physical relationship. I don’t pillage and plunder on a first date. I really like you, Emma, and I’d like to see where this might go.”

Emma smiled gently at him, his words filling her heart in a way she’d never known. “I really like you, too, Killian,” she said. Her words made him light up like the sunrise and the shiver of attraction became a soothing warmth that she felt all the way down to her toes.

He sat back and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, extracting a credit card and laying it on the table for their waiter. He turned his attention back on her with a question in his eyes.

“You said Neal would be in the hospital through the weekend? Do you think it’d be alright if I stopped by? Just to offer my hope for his speedy recovery?”

“I think that’s a great idea, Killian,” she agreed. “Would you like me to come along? I don’t have any other plans this afternoon, until I have to pick up Henry after dinner. I can introduce you.”

Killian’s jaw dropped open slightly. “You’d do that? You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she promised. “I’d love to.”

“I would really appreciate it if you would come along,” he said, sincerely. “But I don’t want you to feel pressured. It’s not necessary.”

“No pressure. I promise. I’m glad to do it,” she assured him. She rose from her seat. “I’m going to run to the restroom before we go.”

Killian also rose when she did, his eyes tracing her form as she walked away. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman since college and he really didn’t want to screw it up. He took his card back from the waiter and moved to the front door to wait for Emma. When she emerged from the restroom, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, hands down. He offered his arm and placed his other hand on hers when she took it.

The drive to MUSC was less than ten minutes, and Killian was grateful that Emma kept the conversation from inside Magnolia’s going, helping to keep his nerves at meeting her ex and Henry’s father at bay. Once inside the hospital, she led him to the cardiac wing until they stood outside the room. Emma knocked and cracked the door when she heard a muffled come in from inside.

She entered the room, followed closely by Killian. Neal lay on the bed, Tink sitting next to him in a reclining chair that could pull out to make a bed for her so she wouldn’t have to leave him each night. Emma smiled at them as she came in.

“Hey, y’all,” she greeted.

“Emma,” Tink cried in surprise, rising from the chair. “I didn’t know you’d be coming by today.”

Emma hugged Tink tightly before pulling back. Technically, they weren’t family, but Tink loved Neal and Henry both and Emma loved her like a sister. Tink’s eyes widened when she saw Killian standing behind Emma.

“Tink, this is Killian Jones,” Emma introduced him. “He’s the air traffic controller that helped Henry land the plane Friday.”

Tink inhaled sharply as Killian stuck his hand out for her to shake. Ignoring his offer completely, she hugged him tightly. Killian choked on a laugh in surprise at the exact same response he’d gotten from Emma on Friday when he tried to introduce himself. Tink obviously cared deeply for Henry to greet him in such a manner, and Killian didn’t hesitate to hug her back.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered. She pulled back and took his hand, leading him to the bed where her husband lay. “Neal, this is Killian.”

Killian looked at the man on the bed. He looked better than he had on Friday before he’d been taken away in the ambulance, but there still seemed to be a pallor about his skin that Killian hoped would fade with time and treatment for whatever it was that happened in the first place.

Neal smirked at his wife as he held his hand out for Killian to shake. “I heard what Emma said, Tink.” He turned his attention to Killian and his expression sobered into deep appreciation and seriousness. “Thank you, man. You saved my son’s life. There’s nothing I could say… nothing I could do to tell you how thankful I am.”

Tink slapped her husband on the arm indignantly. “He saved your life, too, you dolt!”

Neal rubbed his arm where she’d hit him and looked sheepish. “She does have a point, I guess.”

Tink rolled her eyes in exasperation and Emma bit back a chuckle.

Killian scratched at the spot behind his ear and told Neal and Tink the same thing he’d told Emma on Friday. “Henry is the real hero, not me. I was just doing my job. I’m just thankful you both came through it ok,” he said sincerely.

“Killian gave Henry a real Aviator pin since he did fly the plane and land it safely,” Emma interjected. Neal and Tink’s eyes widened in both their countenances as they looked back at Killian. “You should have seen him,” she continued. “He tried to refuse, but,” she looked to Killian for confirmation, “Killian told him… What exactly did you say? Any landing you walk away from is a good landing?”

Killian was nodding and as soon as he realized what she was asking, joined her in finishing the phrase. “Chuck Yeager said it. He was a flying ace and is generally considered the greatest pilot of all time.”

“Right,” Neal added, “He broke the sound barrier.”

“Wow,” Tink said, awe coloring her tone.

“Anyway, I shared that quote with Henry and told him that he did deserve the wings.”

Emma turned back to the man on the bed. “He was so proud, Neal.”

A small smile graced Neal’s face as pride and a profound gratefulness rose up in him. This had been one of the worst experiences of his life and it could have been so much worse were it not for the man standing in front of him. He placed his hand over his heart and felt tears start to well in his eyes.

“I really can’t tell you…” he choked out. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”

Killian looked around the room, taking in the tearful and grateful expressions on the others’ faces. It really was part of his job, but this was the first time he’d ever been presented with such an up close and personal expression of appreciation for doing it, and he could feel his own eyes welling in response.

“It was my honor and privilege. Truly,” he assured them. “Henry is an extraordinary lad. You’ve all done a wonderful job raising him, and I know you are proud of him.” Slightly uncomfortable with the excess emotion in the presence of virtual strangers, Killian looked around. “I think I need to make use of the facilities, if y’all will excuse me for a few minutes.”

Emma led him out of the room and pointed him in the right direction. Coming back in, she smiled at the others who waited patiently for her.

“I like him,” Tink said. Emma could feel the heat on her cheeks as she cut her eyes to Neal.

“I do, too,” he agreed. “Come here, Em,” he said, holding out his hand to her. Emma approached the bed and took his outstretched hand. “He seems like a really good guy, Em. Do you like him?” Emma’s blush deepened and Neal smirked at her. “That’s what I thought.” His thumb ran over her knuckles as he moved his head so he could catch her gaze. “Listen, Em. I know I don’t have any say in how you live your life, but I do know you pretty well, and it is written all over your face that you like this guy. Is this a date? How exactly did this visit happen?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “He asked if he could take me out for coffee right after the ambulance left. I called him yesterday and he invited me out to lunch instead.” She shrugged, “And I agreed. We went to Magnolia’s a few blocks away and he asked if I thought y’all would mind if he came by for a visit, just to give you his wishes for a speedy recovery. So I offered to bring him.” Tink’s smile split her face as Emma explained.

“I’m glad you did. You should go for it, Em,” Neal continued. “He’s obviously a stand up guy and he’s already met and obviously likes Henry. You’ve put your life on hold for the last five years, Em, raising Henry, pouring all your energy into him,” he observed. “It’s time for that to stop. You deserve to be happy. And I think he…”

“I am happy, Neal,” Emma interrupted in protest.

“We’re not saying you’re unhappy, Emma,” Tink interjected. “We know you love your job, Henry, and you have great friends. But love is a part of all true happiness and we think you should be open to that.”

Emma looked back at Neal who was smiling and nodding in agreement.

“Ok,” she murmured. “Thanks, y’all.” She reached out and took Tink’s hand in her free hand and squeezed gently as Killian came back in the room. Emma released them and turned toward him, smiling widely.

“Thanks for coming by, man,” Neal said, holding his hand out for Killian to shake again.

“My pleasure,” he replied, taking Neal’s hand in his own. “I’m glad to have met you both. Congratulations, by the way,” he said, nodding toward Tink’s obviously rounded middle. “If Henry is any indication, I know y’all will be great parents.” Tink blushed at his assertion and smiled shyly. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m glad you’re alright and offer my wishes for a full and speedy recovery.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Killian,” Tink added, “For everything. We owe you a lot.”

Killian waved away her sentiments. “Part of the job description. You owe me nothing. It was very nice to meet y’all.” He looked to Emma and held his arm out for her to take. As she looped her arm in his, they both waved at Neal and Tink and took their leave.

Once she was settled back in Killian’s car, she turned toward him. “They liked you,” she said simply.

Killian’s cheeks reddened and it made her smile. “I’m glad,” he said, with a slight cough. “I liked them, too.” He turned his face toward her, a smile on his lips. “I’m really glad they liked me. I know y’all are close, and I have to admit, it felt a bit like meeting the parents.”

“I hope when I get to meet your family, it goes as well as this did,” Emma murmured, looking out the front windshield as Killian drove.

“Does this mean you want to meet my family, Swan?” he asked. She could hear the smirk in his voice and cut her eyes over to him.

“Maybe,” she allowed, with a smirk of her own. She reached over and placed her hand on Killian’s forearm. She’d have rathered taken his hand, but as it was occupied on the stick shift of the vehicle, she had to be satisfied with this. Killian’s face broke into a wide grin and her own smile widened in response.

They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence, and much too soon for her liking, Killian pulled up in front of her house. He jumped out of the car and was opening her door in moments. She took his arm again as he led her up the front walk to her door.

“I’d invite you in, but I don’t want you to think I’m only after one thing,” she told him, trying to insert a joking tone into her voice after their conversation at the restaurant as she turned to face him.

He chuckled before his face turned serious, his eyes bouncing back and forth between hers. “I would have to decline if you did,” he replied, taking both of her hands in his own. “I told you in the restaurant I really like you.” He raised her hands and gently kissed her knuckles before capturing her gaze once again. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in years and I don’t want to move too fast and risk compromising a potential future with you.”

Emma gasped at the sincerity in his gaze and her stomach flipped in response to his words. She thought back to what Neal and Tink had said at the hospital and decided she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

She released his hands, looped her arms around his neck, and drew him down into a kiss. Killian didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything as sweet as Emma’s lips and he moaned as she opened to him. His arms wrapped around her and he held her close as their tongues danced together, sending sparks of desire shooting through him.

Before they could get carried away, he broke off the kiss and touched his forehead to her own, still holding her closely. He opened his eyes and saw her own veridian depths glazed over with the same yearning he himself felt. He licked his lips and stepped back slightly, while still holding her in his arms.

“Will you go out with me again, Emma?”

“Yes, Killian.” She smiled gently and stepped out of his embrace, turning toward her front door. Killian was frozen in place as she opened the door and turned back toward him briefly. She rose on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips and he couldn’t help but smile at her as she stepped through her door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, still grinning like a giddy school boy. When she closed the door behind her, he stood there for a moment more reliving their kiss. He finally turned back toward his car, thinking about the circumstances of their meeting. The worst nightmare of an air traffic controller was a crash landing, and their meeting almost felt like a crash landing all on its own- completely unexpected and out of the blue. But this was a landing that he was thankful for. There were no casualties, unless you counted his heart, and it was definitely a landing he had no interest in walking away from, because he was hers- for better or worse, to the end of the world or time. And he would wait for her as long as he needed to make her his as well.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I’d love to know what you think!

#Crash Landings #krystal writes #art by krystal

[rockynfriends]

Hey everyone,

Mod Cleo here, and I’ve come to make an announcement.

No, not that one.

Rockynfriends started as “dailyrocketchu” back on June 2nd, 2017. At the time, I was friends with someone on Tumblr who ran a Mewtwo blog. I was running a whole Mario fanfic site at the time, so I’d created a Tumblr account and I reached out to them to see if they wanted to collaborate. They told me that I should try my hand at Pokemon blogging. I replied that I didn’t really know how to draw, and would not feel qualified to run an ask blog. They replied that I should give it a whack, and that I’d figure out what I wanted to do along the way.

I was studying cinematography and filmmaking then, so I was used to having a camera. I realized I needed a character who would be capable of multiple expressions, without me having to draw all of them. I searched my brain for Pokemon that had been represented in a physical form many times so that I’d be able to take advantage of those expressions, and of course, settled on Pikachu, the ubiquitous Pokemon mascot. Plushie acquired, character design figured.

But how to make him unique?

It’s hard to believe, but at the time I really didn’t know anyone had created Team Rocket Pikachu OCs. I wasn’t a part of fandom culture growing up due to living in a fairly conservative household and really only having one pop culture passion. So I thought I was doing something unique-ish by introducing Rocky, a Pikachu in Team Rocket who I planned to portray as a bumbling goofball villain, utterly failing at actual mischief.

That lasted two weeks, before @sometimesampharos, in conjunction with @adventuresquadharmony, made me realize that Rocky really shone when he was a clueless sweetheart, rather than an ill-meaning comedic relief.

I taught myself more editing and photography techniques, interacting with other blogs and inviting asks. My first photos were done on a flip phone because yes, I really WAS that behind the times. I was always limited by the fact I couldn’t draw other folks’ PokeOCs, and I do think that this probably meant some blogs ignored Rocky, but at the same time he managed to develop some close friends, and as he became closer to characters, I began to befriend their mods. Cynthia and Cassiopeia joined the team, and they helped round out his personality with their own unique attributes. I had a small cast of developing characters and the beginnings of a story.

One day, after a particularly discouraging interaction where I was dismissed for my lack of illustrative capacity, I received a contact from @duskffyart. They wanted to collaborate. I couldn’t believe my luck, and frankly, I still can’t. I not only found someone who could illustrate the emotions and situations I had imagined, but who could temper my wackier ideas and introduce ideas of their own. Rocky became more fleshed out still, and gained a little brother, as his friends became his family. All the while the Pokeblog community continued to evolve (ha) and while some blogs went away, others remained, and still others befriended Rocky all over again. We wrote a long, complex narrative, and eventually did a reboot that, in retrospect, signaled the beginning of the end, though we didn’t know it yet.

A lot happened in my life since Rocky became a part of it. I’ve found out I’m actually a woman. I’ve traveled to several countries, found a new career, lost friends, gained friends. I’ve started a Twitch channel, bought a house and a car, and finished college with flying colors. I lost my dad to a heart attack, underwent betrayal from people with religious affiliations, grappled with the effects of a pandemic that’s STILL ongoing, struggled with self-loathing and insecurity, and more than once, wondered if my life was really doing any good for anyone.

If you told me when I started this blog what life had in store, I would not have believed you. But Rocky, Cass, Cynthia, and Riley have all, in some measure, been there for me through all of it. They mean a lot to me, but lately I’ve felt that I’m going through the motions.

That’s not because of metrics, by the way. Rocky never broke 750 followers at any point. I’m told that’s a small audience -- and yet some of the kindness that it showed to me is impossible to forget. No, my exhaustion comes down to the fact that the story has been mostly written, but thanks to circumstances beyond anyone’s control, life has not allowed us to execute on it.

If Rocky and his family did anything for anyone reading this, I hope it was good. In a way, we’re one of the last ‘old guard’ Pokemon blogs, and I realize that shutting off means we’re one page closer to the end of a whole chapter in this community.

It’s been a serious privilege to do this. I don’t discount for a moment the absolute joy I’ve felt at times working on this, and my co-mod is a delight to work with. I look forward to continuing our collaboration on other things.

I’m also not saying that the gang will never come back...but if they do, it’s unlikely to be on this blog. I think they’d deserve a fresh place to begin.

The goal was always to make people smile. If you’re reading this, thanks for making it to the end. I know I get verbose. No words are going to be enough to really say how much this all means to me, and it’s not easy admitting I need to move on. But I hope to look back on this fondly as the longest continuing project, besides my self, of course, that I’ve ever worked on, and I hope that, even if it was just for a few seconds every couple of days, that we brought a little extra light into your life.

Take care, everyone!

#pokemon #rocky #cynthia #cassiopeia #riley #long post

[plinkcat-gif]

@wind-becomes-lightning TUMBLR ATE UR ASK SOMEWHERE BETWEEN INBOX AND DRAFT 😢😢😢😢 anywayyyyy here r the kids!!!!!!!! they are comparing parent histories via history books and shitty drawings AKSNJSJA i had so much fun drawing them!!!!!!!! genuinely. babies. so true <3

also i had a LOT of ideas and the only one i didn’t write was sayuri and obito meetup bc idk enough ab their relationship and that’s more your territory ajsjdbjshdjd <3333

this is just the most brain vomit thing ever, and it’s also from the pov of nsmap obkkrin :3 mostly lol

obito appears alone first, in the middle of kkyuri + kids Normal Family Walk Time. this immediately sends kks and sayuri freaking The Fuck out bc sayuri can’t see a genjutsu and kakashi doesn’t sense one, so what kind of sick joke is somebody playing on them?

obito, who’s just gotten back from saving his kids from their own dimensional fuckery w his partners, is also Freaking The Fuck Out because WHERE ARE THEY???? he sees kakashi, takes half a step towards him in relief before he pauses because hey, that’s not his kakashi, that’s not rin, and they definitely only have two kids and none of those are them.

few tense moments pass before kkrin+twins+minato blip into existence, minato’s seal flaming at their feet. “shit,” kakashi mutters, then is immediately tackled by obito who takes the whole family down with him. “holy shit i thought i lost you guys,” etc etc. they stand back up and. oh yeah. the other dimension kakashi who looks like he’s going to pass out, held up by who they can only assume is his wife who also looks like she’s going to die.

“uh. hi.” obito says, something something introductions, yes we’re real we’re from a different dimension and trying to get home. yeah but we need a new seal because some idiot burnt it up in transit (“i memorized it, dumbass,” kakashi says, tapping his head in clear irritation, like they’ve had this argument before). oh you have some on you? sweet!

—

nisi!kakashi and kakashi

kakashi takes the paper and ink from New Dimension kakashi, who now looks considerably calmer and now just.. confused. kakashi can help with that. “the kids got ahold of a scrapped seal of minato’s,” he explains, taking a few steps away to lead nisi!kakashi somewhere quieter. “sent them back in time, and we went to save them. but the seal was still faulty, it’s a miracle they made it in one piece. so we fixed it, but apparently accidentally figured out how to cross dimensions instead of travel. so, we landed here and now we just really want to get back home.”

nisi!kakashi and kakashi get to some talking, though neither are very talkative and prefer observing. but as they hear everyone else getting to talking, comparing dimensions, well.

kakashi: is dad alive here?

nisi!kakashi: …no. he died when i was six. [silence] but. i got to see him in the afterlife, get my closure and all that. (does this kakashi experience the same? have they had a war yet? looking at obito, alive and well, perhaps not. did he get that closure?)

kakashi, looking at nisi!kakashi with slight concern: ,.right. the afterlife. :/ uh well dad’s actually alive where i am. came back about a year ago from captivity. (so there’s no need to help a different kakashi search for his lost father here, then, if he really did die. that’s…something).

—

nisi kid ocs and the twins+minato

the kids are already comparing parents. in this universe, obito seems to have gone down a bad path and started a war. but he ended up good, tsuki and obito and miu say, because that’s what their dad always tells them. he was good in the end.

minato, keeping an eye on the kids and observing from behind, looks sick.

the twins think the drawn version of juubito looks cool as hell. they go and recreate their own iteration of their obito but with mokuton, because he doesn’t have a ten-tails. oh, but you know who has a three tails? mama! it’s name is isobu and he’s super cool. he makes swimming super/ fun.

obito’s next in line for the hat in the nsmap universe. but in this one, kakashi got to be hokage? that’s super cool! the twins get to see all the technological advances he brought to konoha, as well as how he settled treaties with other nations. he did a lot here! that’s what grandpa’s doing in our universe.

—

nisi!kakashi and rin

nisi!kakashi and rin visit for a bit. it’s not as awkward as kakashi expected it to be, but he supposes that’s because they’ve had time to. recover. he did still chidori rin in nsmap universe, rin still chose that path. but this time isobu saved her because there was no obito around to save their bodies from the kiri nin, because he was at home doing physical therapy.

rin and isobu have made peace with each other. she hopes that this universe’s kakashi’s made peace with his rin, even if she is dead.

—

nisi!kakashi and kakashi

kakashi: so, do you have. hound?

nisi!kakashi: the…anbu? i did anbu for a good portion of my life, and i was hound, yes.

kakashi, hurriedly: nvm. forget i said that love and light. <3

—

nisi!kakashi and obito

kakashi’s already made peace with obito. but he’s curious about what would’ve happened if things had gone differently.

kannabi still happened, but his struggle in nisi!kakashi’s universe is replaced by a mental, physical, and emotional struggle in the form of healing from kannabi. which sure, happened in this universe too, but he wasn’t around people to hurt. in nsmap universe, he hurt the people closest to him frequently in fits of anger. but he healed eventually, moved in with and got married to kkrin. they had momo and mosu (unplanned smh), and here they are now.

so there never was a war. at the very least, “did you ever meet zetsu?”

“hm?”

“plant guy made out of the same stuff as hashirama cells. orchestrated the whole war, manipulated. you.”

and obito looks pale, because yes. he does know zetsu. he just also wasn’t entirely aware zetsu wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

this changes things.

—

so this is who obito is named after.

he seems nice, at least. he’s funny, and everyone else enjoys him. he’s grown flowers for everyone and is currently throwing a hollow wooden ball that he made himself for his own kids to run and catch.

.

mosu’s the one that’s proudly introducing everyone, and obito has to smile when obito’s introduced.

he looks timid. he’s wearing kakashi’s old clothes, or a copy of them. they’re far less bossy on obito’s wary look than kakashi’s demanding stance.

—

momo and mosu using anbu sign (learned from hound) to communicate with each other (planning on attacking minato in secret), tsuki trained to respond on instinct having the WORST and most confused time ever trying not to slap their hands out of the air to get them to stop.

nisi!kakashi a bit confused because hey. aren’t those supposed to be super-fucking-secret? he looks at kakashi like 🤨🤨 and kakashi just blinks and looks away (<- so not ready to talk ab hound with other people, even himself from another universe).

#kirpy answers #kirpy steals somebody’s style #obkkrin #kirpy ocs

[dragonpro809]

Mandela Catalogue RP Anyone?

I'm out in the barrens of Tumblr, searching high and low for people in this fandom that want to rp- Time to test my luck here! This is an rp for those who know about Mandela Catalogue!

!WARNING! Mandela Catalogue, which belongs to Alex Kister, is not for the faint of heart! It has some pretty disturbing themes, such as anxiety, scary imagery, heavy themes like suicide and talk of death, and of dark themes that many may not be comfortable with!

I'd recommend that if the themes above don't bother you, you watch the series to understand everything before the rp, just so you have basic understanding of the characters and what is going on. Don't want to watch due to the themes? Then I'd recommend the wiki! I'm sure everything you need to know is there!

Now, enough of me rambling, let's move onto the rules!

Rules: - Simple and right to the point...NO NSFW OR 18+ STUFF! That stuff is disgusting and just...Wrong...So don't bring it here! (Also, read that the creator doesn't condone that stuff either, so if you don't respect my wish, RESPECT HIS!) - Ships are fine, just as long as they aren't breaking the casts boundaries and don't involve NSFW or 18+ stuff. - Got an OC you'd like to play as or add in later? Awesome! Feel free to add as many OCs as you'd like! I love seeing people giving life to their OCs in rps! - If I'm playing as the victim(s), I can give it my best shot! Alternates are iffy since I'm nowhere near the word good in that field of character acting- - If you are playing as the victim(s), let me know who so I can pick an OC of my own that will work best or a victim! I like to know who is who so I can have a better understanding of what I'm doing! - Just have fun! This is an rp after all that can start from something small and become something big! As someone who has done an rp with a friend for a year and a half now, and still going, I love to see an rp grow into something like that of a book!

Don't know how to start or don't got a prompt? Don't worry! I got a few!

Prompt ideas:

- After losing a bet, (Your character) and (My character) are forced to stay in a house that was claimed to be abandoned...Or so it was thought to be.

- (Your/my character) rushes to (Your/my character's) house to hide away from Alternates, and now together they have to hold down the fort till morning.

- (Your/my character) is spending the day at the park to get away from the chaos in their life, then they meet (Your/my character), and a friendship starts.

- Shhhh, keep it down! (Your/my character) is an alternate that isn't completely lost to the darkness yet, and (Your/my character) is trying to hide this secret from the rest of the world.

- When did these get here? (Your/my character) wakes up after a nightmare and spots an item at their desk that wasn't there before (Either a rose for Cesar, a gun for Mark, a bag of chips for Jonah, or a spirit box for Adam). After picking it up, (Your/my character) can see the spirit of the person the said item belongs to (Which is either your or my character). (Or the character can be alive, whichever you prefer!)

- Wanna combine two? I'm all for it! 

- Got a prompt of your own? Feel free to share it! 

 Where I like to rp: - I can rp here, but I might be slow since I'm not always on Tumblr due to school and being on Discord- - I’m active on DeviantArt, but it’s relatively the same as Tumblr. - I'm ALWAYS on Discord, since I feel comfortable doing it on there and I can set up a server in case we want to do multiple rps. Want to exchange Discords? Shoot me a message on here and we can go from there! - Want to do it somewhere else? That's fine! Just tell me where and we can decide on what to do!

If you have gotten to this point, are reading this, and have questions, feel free to ask! I'd love to help answer any questions you have that way we can clear up the confusion!

Welp, that's about all! Please don't be afraid to send me a message! I hope I can find someone who is interested! If not, it's all good!

Hope you know you are loved, amazing, and one of a kind! Don't let the world beat you down or let you think otherwise! Peace out for now my fellow humans and dragons!

#mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue rp #looking for people to rp with #open rp #new rp #oc rp

[5283]

Hey! I saw your mbti related posts and I'd like to ask for some help because there are SO many stereotypes and I feel kind of lost. I used to identify as an enfp for the longest time but now I feel like I don't even know where to begin with regarding functions.

OH HI <3 you have no idea how happy your question makes me hehehe yes you're right, there's incredibly many stereotypes and just wrong interpretations in general – in fact wrong interpretations constitute the majority. it looks like people are just saying anything lol

for short, if you want to learn more the best place to start is @.akhromant here on tumblr! they have very extensive and detailed explanations about how the widespread understanding of mbti is plainly wrong since the functions got all mixed up because of myers and briggs. then also about actual functions, how to type yourself and other people, differences between most confusing functions etc etc really, this blog is a gold mine and a no. 1 source of accurate info about mbti!

another thing i can recommend – is reading c. g. jung's "psychological types". he lays the best groundwork for understanding functions (since he was the one that brought all of these ideas and concepts of introversion/extraversion/functions to light in the first place). personally, it took quite a few re-readings until things started clicking for me. this topic's really endless and something you can't just read once and say you understand it, or read a list of "enfp traits" and leave it at that. that's a bit too shallow for a topic that's inherently deep, complex and nuanced. it requires time sitting with it, simmering it, processing and integrating it into yourself.

honestly i've been sitting with the concept of mbti/functions for a good few years already and i still don't think i completely got it! (if it's even possible to completely get it haha) but it's all good because in the end it's a process to get to know yourself, get familiar with the mechanisms of your psyche and learn to recognize patterns in other people as well. rather than trying to figure out which letters represent you best, it's more like... getting in touch with yourself by pure observation. letters end up being just tools that help explain/quickly relay a particular pattern of the psyche. don't stress too much about not knowing your exact type, it will surely arrive sooner or later if you keep learning about yourself :)

i remember when i was questioning my own mbti and was at a similar point as you when everything got too confusing and i was trying to learn more but no google search returned me answers for the questions i had... that was when i found out about the blog i mentioned earlier! it felt like finally the gates into the knowledge have opened muahahahaha i was overjoyed about how much i'm yet to learn. reading your ask reminded me of myself back then, i'm glad to see this journey is starting for you :'-)

#if you have any other questions i'd gladly try to answer my best with the knowledge i have!! #mbti

[catgirlwheels]

I posted 14,473 times in 2022

That's 2,616 more posts than 2021!

95 posts created (1%)

14,378 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mossy-scaled-dragon

@astralwasteland

@birdfuckeronline

@natalieironside

@drippity

I tagged 10,566 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#friend - 2,814 posts

#oh dear - 781 posts

#oh no lol - 722 posts

#oh neat - 624 posts

#oooh pretty - 597 posts

#lol - 586 posts

#awwwww - 514 posts

#pfft lol - 467 posts

#🤣 - 418 posts

#paws.txt - 378 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#does the right thing when it counts but they're a social outcast/grumpy asshole/antivillain/etc because of trauma or repeated rejection

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Oh whatever, tumblr search is useless. Excuses to take new pictures! Yay!

Can't see much of the white in the middle and the pockets are kinda useless this way but WHATEVER I'm gay as fuck ^.^

19 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#4

Why is she like this with these treats we have no idea. But she loves them lol

24 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#3

I am grateful to the writers of game mods. I used to do that, I know how hard it is. Whether you're doing what the devs should've done in the first place or adding things of your own, I appreciate the heck out of you. Thank you for making our games better.

38 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#2

I call this a bag plan.

It hacks my brain, disregards rules, breaks blocks, and helps me think about multiple things at once without losing track.

One time in school I needed a break from banging my head against a programming assignment and I went to the only place I ever went off campus: Chipotle. Got my burrito in my paper bag and for whatever reason I decided to dismantle the bag while I ate. Might've just been a little destruction as a treat, idk. Got to the end of my burrito and decided I couldn't avoid thinking about the assignment forever.

I had this nice big paper in front of me that was definitely trash and I couldn't possibly write anything wrong on it because it was already trash, and it was big and there were no lines and no start and I just picked a spot and started writing. Had a different thought and started writing somewhere else. Broke my block, fixed 3/4 of the programming problems without a computer in front of me, moved from the end of the world in my head to a solid idea of what I needed to do in a couple hours and a paper bag.

After acing that group project I got myself a roll of craft paper and just started doing this regularly. I've done this for story scenes, working out different people's needs, designing game levels, shopping lists, whatever.

I used to just keep one of these folded up in my pocket as a notepad (gods I miss clothes with pockets), but it unfolds so I can dump my brain into it if I need to. It's great and I love it.

See the full post

78 notes - Posted March 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Things I would like non-wheelchair people to know

Do not touch my chair. Unless I've lost control of my chair and am rolling into traffic, if I have not given you explicit permission, that is a huge violation of my personal space. Think of grabbing my push handles like grabbing someone's shoulders. That's not a thing you just do to people.

If I don't know you, nothing about my chair, my body, my situation, or what I'm doing is any of your gods damned business. Think of commenting on these things to a stranger like catcalling. (If I know you it's probably fine, as long as you're respectful. Just like any other personal topic you might ask someone about.)

If I decline an offer of help, do not insist. I know what things I need help with a lot better than you do. (Nothing wrong with offering, help is definitely welcome sometimes, just respect my response.)

Okay, things that should be obvious out of the way, here's what the post is actually about:

I still prefer the terms "walking" and "running" for the ways I get around. I might say "rolling" or "wheeling" if the distinction is relevant for some reason, since I am ambulatory some of the time, but in general I prefer the same words as you tall people.

I need a much wider space to turn, or especially to turn around, than I do just to pass through a space.

Ask me, rather than assuming you know whether or not I can do something. I would love to go hiking with you, actually, if the trail is light and friendly enough to wheels. No, I can't ice skate, but I'd still rather you ask if I want to come along than assume I don't want to be included.

Which activities are notably more difficult is often not obvious. Popping a wheelie to get over a small amount of difficult terrain or even climbing a single step (if I have something to pull myself up with) can actually be pretty easy. A long stretch of ground tilted slightly to the left or right takes a ton of effort. Carrying anything that fits in my lap is trivially easy, but transporting anything that doesn't fit in my lap is quite hard (though I recently discovered my vacuum fits nicely on my footplate if I wrap my legs around it a little which is cool.) I am constantly surprised by little things that are or aren't harder than I thought they'd be, or are actually easier than before because I'm sitting.

If you are in my path, you moving suddenly is actually really unpleasant for me. I know you're there, I'm not going to run you over. If you're in my way, please do move! But jerking suddenly makes you unpredictable and I might have to stop suddenly to be certain everyone is safe while I process the change, just like if I were driving a car. Also like driving a car, stopping suddenly is unpleasant and a lot of effort, but the small adjustment to my direction I was planning to make is very easy. (Same goes for bikes honestly, or any other vehicle. That's what the chair is, a vehicle.)

If we're walking around together and need to get past some stairs, it's nice if you come with me on the ramp, especially if that ramp is out of the way. It can be really isolating to have to go a different way than everyone else.

If we need to walk close together for whatever reason, you walking directly in front of me is best avoided if possible. Bumping into your heel with my metal footplate is going to be a lot more unpleasant for both of us than it would be if I were on my feet.

In general, you should let me speak for myself. It's my joints that don't work, not my brain or my voice. But. If someone else is being disrespectful, your voice is likely much more impactful than mine in that situation. Use it.

I'm not expecting anyone to memorize these things; as long as you're treating disabled people like people, that's enough. And if you want to do more than that but don't know how, respectful questions are generally welcome. I just wanted to share these thoughts, for people who don't live with them all the time. There are a lot of little differences to being seated all the time that you just don’t think about until you’re there.

Also, while I think most of this is generally true for anyone in a wheelchair, obligatory reminder that I speak only for myself.

3,127 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#lol #No surprises here #long post #paws.txt #year in review #friend

[ericathefae]

Maybe

At 10:44 today I took my first 10 mg dose of methylphenidate teva (adhd medication) that my doctor thankfully agreed to let me try - I've been waiting about a month for this appointment, since I figured out that dopamine defficiency/dysfunction might explain practically all my problems (maybe not all my quirks, but the things that are actively causing me grief, yeah). It's a slow release kind of medication, so I won't know immediately if it works (unlike some of the older type of meds), and of course, I have no idea if it's the right dosage even the right type, but it's a start. It's a damn good start, actually, because this might be it - this could actually, practically, physically fucking help. I've been spending most of my adult life constantly either searching for answers for why I am like this, or actively ignoring my problems just to get a bit of a break from the helplesness of it all. And finally, this might be it, this might actucally help.

I don't know if I have adhd (it would be the inattentive type if it was) - I did get a psychiatric assesment last year, but got a firm no to both adhd and autism (although I'm not sure if somethings didn't get lost in translation, just like it usually does when I try and ask for help - I've lost count of the times people have dismissed my concerns about depression as if it was a silly little thing (there's nothing wrong with you, why don't you get yourself a boyfriend, that'll cheer you up! - this is litterally what I've been told, to my face, by two different doctors... let's just say it wasn't helpful). But still, it might not be typical or even diagnostible adhd, I might fall between the cracks of psychiatric definitions, but that doesn't mean something ain't wrong.

By the way, the psychiatrist back then, she terminated the assesment with the sage advice that "sometimes not getting a diagnosis is the best thing that can happen to you". What bullshit. I'd much rather she simply kept it at "we don't have a box that you fit in" instead of trying to make the dismissal sound like it would magically propel me into being a better version of myself. It didn't, it just left me floundering.

So, now, I wait. And by that I mean that I take a pill every morning, go on as usual (trying to write my thesis) and see if it makes a difference. Gods, I hope so. I plan on keeping on with this planning-commenting-writing what goes on in my head-thing, that I started on tumblr (and then moved to paper), since it has been the one thing that helped me clearly see my own patterns for what they are (without all the convoluted explanations and excuses I used to give myself - well, I still do that, but now I can see that I'm doing it). Beyond that I guess I'll try to take good care of myself, you know, as one should and which I've been trying (and constantly failing) to do: eating proper food, having a decent day rythm, actually doing my work, cleaning my appartment (and myself), having some kind of social life, you know... being a functioning adult. I don't think meds will magically change everything (it won't rewire my brain after all), but hopefully it'll make it all a bit easier. Make me have to fight less just for the basic stuff. Give me a bit more bandwith to actually be able to enjoy life with.

I'll let you know how it goes.

#adhd #neurodivergent #trying medication for the first time #please please please work

[e-the-village-cryptid]

Hi! I wanted to add an answer to your 'straight folks afraid to ask questions' post but I'm not out on any of my blogs so please excuse the long ask!

So I'm not straight but I felt kind of the same way when I first started searching info on transness and trans people. I'm not from any English speaking country, and where I come from, we weren't teached about labels or anything. For exemple, I knew that I ''wasn't interested in dating anyone'' but only learn the term 'asexual' (in english) when I was 23ish. A lot of the internet places I visit are in english, with a majority of the audience being from the USA. So a lot of usa/english queer terms are used, that are not present / translatable in my language. It's a first 'barrier' when it comes to asking questions, because sometimes it's not you being an ass, it's just that it is genuinely something you don't have the notion for (or a notion you never encounter before). So. Transness. I had a trans friend when I was 14yo, but never would have think of him as 'trans'; he was a guy, just in a 'girl' body, full stop. When I started asking myself questions about what FTM, MTF, trans men, trans women, gender dysphoria, etc meant (really basic questions) I couldn't ask him, because we hadn't been in touch for a while and it would have felt weird AF to contact him back with 'ulterior motives' (aka ask about transness). So I turn to tumblr, twt, and the answer was always the same: trans people shouldn't have to be your teachers, go do your research yourself. I was honestly a bit scared by the harsh words some of those posts/tweets had, but you know, it was fair. It's always weird to have random people ask you intimate things like that. So I tried to do my own research, on google, on blogs, etc. And in short, most of it were snippets of answers with the same conclusion ''But you should ask a trans person, they're the one concerned after all.'' At that point I was just lost. I *had* to ask trans people questions to understand them better (logical), but also asking them was kind of rude and tiresome for them because they just want to live their life in peace (also logical). I stopped looking for answers for a long time, because didn't wanted to bother people. I guess at that point I also started to develop a tiny transphobic reflexion, because I was frustrated by people demanding I knew everything about how to talk to trans folks but also not wanting to answer a single question and being ready to get mad at any mistake someone could make. (Fortunately, that phase didn't last long!) Finally at some point, I can't remember how but I came across youtube videos of trans creators talking about their journey, their transition and answering a lot of questions about transness, something that I was absolutely unaware existed. I was really uneasy at first, because I felt like I wasn't their demographic and shouldn't watch it (the idea that, despite being just watching a yt video, someone could call me out IRL for objectifying them, or looking at trans folks as ''curiosities'' when all I wanted was more infos to better understand) but I ended up discovering really nice creators, who gave a lot of informations and also covered fun other topics. That's how I still feel sometimes when I wonder things about other sexualities a/o genders, this idea that I'm just a really annoying tourist pointing at locals and going ''what is that?'' rudely. I am still incredibly uneasy at queer events (but that may be because I feel like I'm not queer enough for it, and people will be mad at me). But I'm getting better!! I guess the tl:dr of it is that people should do their own research on topics they want to understand better, but also the internet is incredibly effective at making you feel like shit for asking any question whatsoever, and it's something that affects you in real life too... Also, almost 5 years since I started asking myself questions about trans people and turns out I might not be cis myself ahah :,) That was a really long ask, sorry about that! Hope you have a nice day!!!!

Thank you for sharing your experiences with this! And yeah, like I understand not everyone has the energy to educate people and that's absolutely not something required of them, but I wish more in the community weren't needlessly angry or aggressive in their refusals to answer questions. And if a community member wants to help but doesn't want to answer questions, directing the asker to another resource is always a good middle ground, because as you said, "just google it" doesn't always turn up the best info. (lgbtqia wiki is one place I like to direct people for basic information and terms.) I'm glad you found those youtubers, youtubers are some of the sources I've found most helpful in learning about other parts of the community, too! (For people looking for such creators— try searching within youtube with keywords like "my trans journey" or "my bisexual life"— stuff that is likely to turn up individual creators talking about their experiences)

Also, you're absolutely "queer enough" for queer events— the people who try to exclude you are the ones who shouldn't be there, because they're actively harming the community. And good luck with the gender haha, have fun and explore! Thank you for the ask and I hope you have a lovely day!

#ask tag