#but I'd rather people take comfort that other people are experiencing what they are and that's normal
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Chapter 3: best believe I'm still bejeweled
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader
WC: 3.7k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
May 19, 1814 - Today marks not only the birthday of our illustrious Queen Charlotte but also the grand event eagerly awaited by all of London's high society: the splendid Queen Charlotte's Ball.
The air is thick with excitement as the ton awaits the debut of our beautiful new bachelorettes for the season. Rest assured, dear readers, this author shall be your eyes and ears throughout the evening, ensuring you are privy to every scandal, dance, and whispered secret that unfolds at this momentous celebration.
The air was, as Lady Whistledown had said, thick with something, although you weren't quite sure it was excitement. Your stomach was tied in a complete tangle of knots, and said knots were doing cartwheels all over the dressing room you were currently in. Looking over at Cass and Eloise eating biscuits and giggling together on the other side of the room, you desperately wished you could stay with them rather than go to the ball.
Until this morning, you had been cautiously optimistic about the whole affair, excited about being courted despite your strong reservations about marriage, knowing it would most likely be a significant loss of your freedom. But at least in the beginning, when you didn't have to immediately think about the greater implications of courting, you could pretend that getting to know people and dancing and receiving flowers could be just fun. But now, with your mother and Lady Violet excitedly chattering around you as your lady's maids rushed to and fro, grabbing your makeup and jewelry, you were less than ecstatic.
Just as the claustrophobia was getting to be a bit much and you were quite ready to jump out of the window into the garden and take off running, Daphne entered the dressing room. Shooing the lady's maids away momentarily, Daphne offered a sympathetic look and sat beside you. You shot her a grateful smile, immediately letting out a breath, slumping your shoulders, and resting your chin on your gloved hand.
"Oh dear, I know that look very well," Daphne laughed. "It's not all bad, I promise."
Rubbing your temples, you confessed, "I know. I was excited until this morning. It's all rather overwhelming now that I'm actually experiencing it, though. What do you even talk about when you're dancing? What if no one wants to speak to me at all?"
Upon hearing the distress in your voice, Daphne quickly interjected. "Honestly, I was much more of a wreck than you were and I am frankly impressed by how well you're holding it together. My best advice would be to not think about it too much. It's harder to do in your position, I know, but you are so brilliant in every way, and everyone is dying to get to know you. It's a wonderful advantage to have. You get to be selective. So just be yourself the best way you know how and try to seek out the ones who make you feel the most comfortable."
You responded with a small laugh, "I guess it's a good thing Ben isn't here then; otherwise, I'd be spending the whole evening with him."
An indecipherable look took over Daphne's features. "It truly is beyond me why he would miss such an important day. Men being men, I suppose. But it's alright. You have the entire Bridgerton clan in his stead, not to mention your family. And speaking of Benedict, he did leave a note with me he wanted me to give you today." Daphne handed you a small rectangular envelope with your name in Benedict's scrawl across the front. Daphne reached over and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "you look absolutely stunning. You have nothing to worry about."
Giving her friend a final kiss on the cheek, Daphne stood up and joined the excited mothers on the other side of the room, allowing you a moment to carefully open the envelope in your hands.
Y/I (your initial),
Hopefully, Daphne will manage to deliver this on time. I'm dreadfully sad I can't be there with you today, but I know you will impress absolutely everyone in attendance. Send Lady Danbury my regards. Or perhaps don't. Whichever makes it less likely I have to dance with her at the next ball I attend!
Yours, B
Smiling to yourself, you felt just a tad more prepared to face the queen in a short time, Ben's note filling you with confidence and Daphne's reassuring words soothing your anxieties.
---
An earlier conversation with Hyacinth had left you terrified of falling flat on your face tonight, so you were intently focused on completing each step as smoothly as possible. As the last debutante to be presented to the queen, your goal was to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but you found the opposite. The room hushed as you entered, which you were worried about until you saw everyone's warm smiles and eager gazes. Newly filled with confidence, you gracefully completed your journey to the throne, where you curtseyed before Queen Charlotte.
Upon receiving the queen's enthusiastic approval, you heaved a sigh of relief. Now, you could enjoy the ball and take in all the new experiences of being out in society. The ballroom was a dazzling display of candlelight, silk gowns, and a polished dance floor as the orchestra played a lively tune. However, the moment of peace was quickly interrupted by many people rushing to talk to you at once. Gracefully moving from one conversation to another, you were enjoying the whirlwind of your debut. Invigorated by your earlier conversation with Daphne, you embraced the attention, excitedly introducing yourself and exchanging pleasantries as you attempted to move toward your mother a few yards away.
After talking to quite a few eligible bachelors and a not-insignificant amount of their mothers, you reached Countess Beaumont and the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton. "Oh, Y/N, your dance card seems to be full! Not even five minutes after you've been presented, no less! That's quite wonderful. I was worried I'd have to send Colin and Anthony to dance with you," your mother exclaimed, cheekily winking at you.
Violet laughed and shook her head. "They should be so lucky! All everyone is talking about is how beautiful you look, dear. Not news to us, obviously, but it's nice to see other people recognizing it."
Truthfully, you were over the moon. You loved to dance, after all, and looking out toward the ballroom, you could see all three of your brothers, your father, Anthony, Colin, and Daphne, scattered throughout. You felt oddly comfortable being in such a new environment, and perhaps Daphne was correct: you could be selective. You had even turned away a few gentlemen who asked you to dance before your card was full, opting to wait for the ones with kind smiles and kinder words.
Just then, Lord Marcus Thornfield approached you, having already been one of the people on your dance card, and you were once again taken aback by his piercing blue eyes. He bowed elegantly and offered a boyish smile and his gloved hand. "It's lovely to see you again, Miss Beaumont, still looking completely stunning. Would you do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?"
You could feel your face getting a tad hot, overwhelmed by the flattery, but at the same time soaking it in thoroughly. You curtsied slightly and placed your gloved hand in his. "Mr. Thornfield, I would be delighted," you replied.
Then, addressing the other two women in the trio, Lord Thornfield said, "If you don't mind, I'd love to borrow Lady Beaumont for a dance."
Thrilled about your first dance at a ball, your mother and Lady Bridgerton enthusiastically assented, clasping their hands together and waving at the pair of you as you approached the dance floor. Sporting a broad smile, you allowed Marcus to escort you away.
As you glided through the dance floor with Marcus, making soft and sometimes flirtatious conversation, you found that you much preferred him before speaking to him in depth. Although he was a complete gentleman, you often found his conversation topics tedious at best and boring at worst. Of course, it was unreasonable for you to expect in-depth and completely captivating conversations like the ones you had with Benedict, but you felt like the chat with Marcus could have at least been engaging. You could not recall a single question he had asked you throughout your interaction, opting instead to talk about himself and occasionally compliment your appearance that night. Surely, there was more to life than hearing a man drone on endlessly about his own life. Toward the end of the dance, you were glad to reach your mother once again, practically begging for an excuse to slip away from Marcus.
Your next dance was better but by a slim margin. The man, Earl Ashton, was nice enough, but you didn't quite feel a connection with him as strong as you would have liked. The following two dances and three conversations that did not involve dancing were mostly the same. The most common question you received, which often was the only one you were asked in the entire interaction, was the reasoning behind your delay in coming out. You took this opportunity to talk about literature, sometimes delving into your latest read. However, save for two or three of them, most of the bachelors you spoke with were not interested in further discussing your studies. After yet another boy refused to engage in real conversation, opting to talk about his upcoming hunting trip, you saw your mother raising her eyebrows at Violet and casting an inconspicuous disapproving look toward the man you were speaking with.
A tad frustrated by your experience, but not enough to dim the glow you were feeling, you decided to take respite at the refreshment table. You were sipping on lemonade and attempting to decipher what was missing from your previous interactions. Partially, you recognized that you were to blame for having set such high standards with Benedict. You knew meeting someone and getting to know them was not the same as speaking with your best friend since childhood, but it seemed instinctual to compare the two. Most of the men you talked to were leagues better than Marcus Thornfield, though, who, you noticed amusedly, was speaking with another debutante who looked positively disinterested.
You were brought out of your musings by the familiar voices of Colin and Anthony. "Well, hello, Miss Y/N Beaumont, diamond of the season and center of the ton's attention who is looking absolutely radiant tonight, according to possibly every single person I have spoken to tonight," called Anthony, reaching your side in a few strides.
Laughing into your cup, you smiled up at the boys. "Well, if it isn't the two most eligible bachelors here tonight, according to every eager mama. How has the ball been for you?"
Colin feigned offense, putting his hand to his chest, "For us? Who cares about us? How has the night been for you?!"
As soon as you opened your mouth to respond, Lord Reginald Harrington bounded over to your group and bowed. Very courteous, Lord Harrington asked you for a dance. Still, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, after seeing Harrington very pointedly staring at another debutante's bosom instead of her eyes while having a conversation), you did not have any space left on your dance card. Anthony barely had time to throw out a good-natured joke about the ton's demand for you before another young man approached the trio. Quite unfortunately, Mr Geoffrey Huntington was on your dance card, so you let yourself be guided to the dance floor. As you spun and twirled with Mr Huntington, you once again yearned for something more. You did not know what, exactly. But a pleasant conversation (he asked questions about you and even made you laugh a few times!) still did not completely satisfy you.
Off to the side, Colin and Anthony were intently observing the dance between you and Geoffrey. "She doesn't quite look like that when she's talking to Ben, though, does she?" Anthony observed.
"Well, clearly not, but I do rather think she's having an alright time of it with Geoff, nevertheless. I've heard he's one of the better ones, actually showing interest in the girls." Colin responded, recounting gossip he had heard through Cass and Pen, though heavens knew where the girls had gotten that information.
Anthony looked on thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "I suppose that's alright, then. I'm still going to make fun of her when she returns," he grinned. "As much as I love poking fun at her, though, I wonder how Ben would feel about Y/N getting this much attention. I still can't believe he missed her debut. I can't believe Mother let him!"
"Oh, I can. I really can believe it. Surely you see it, too? The way he looks at her? I've no doubt he'd be fuming in the corner right about now. Seeing his best friend talk to someone else would send him spiraling," Colin responded, sending a pointed look his brother's way.
Before Anthony could respond, you had returned to them, looking slightly winded. "Well, that was quite the dance," you laughed.
Immediately upon seeing you free to talk, or at least free from anyone that wasn't your immediate family or the Bridgertons, another young man approached you at the refreshments table, handing you a glass of lemonade. Slightly annoyed but able to keep your composure, you gracefully took the glass. "Oh, Mr. Howard, you are too kind. Unfortunately, my dance card is full for tonight, but I would love the opportunity to dance with you at a later ball if that's a possibility."
Mr. Howard, for his part, was left with his mouth agape. "Oh. Yes. Yes, of course, Miss Beaumont. Thank you very much, and I look forward to speaking to you then," he responded, swiftly turning away in search of another young woman who had space left on her dance card, or at least the desire to speak to him at all, really.
Colin and Anthony could barely contain their laughter, leaving you slightly embarrassed by how forward you had been but happy to have some time without speaking to potential future husbands, nonetheless. At that moment, you would have taken Colin and Anthony's teasing ten times over talking to another man hoping to woo you.
---
In the early morning quietude of your room, you took up your quill and parchment, eager to recount the whirlwind of the previous night for Hyacinth. Of course, you could only accept when the young girl earnestly asked for a detailed recounting of every ball you attended, so you were putting in as much detail as you could remember, including but not limited to your mind-numbing dance with Marcus, as well as Bastian's comical near-fall when trying to escape a potential dance with Lady Danbury.
A knock on your door interrupted your writing, and you saw your father and Cass poke their heads in. "Good morning, darling. You've got a congregation of callers downstairs, quite the assembly. Shall I send them away?" your father inquired with a hint of exasperation. "I'd prefer not to entertain a throng of young men with no discernible connection to the Beaumont or Bridgerton names this early in the day."
You interjected swiftly, "No, Father. Just give me a few minutes, and I'll go downstairs to meet them."
With a nod, Earl Beaumont withdrew, muttering under his breath, while Cassandra, bubbling with excitement, seized your hands. "You have callers! A whole bunch of them! Y/n, this is so wonderful! Who do you expect to see downstairs?"
A tad flustered, you were scrambling to put away your half-written account of the night and making sure you had no ink stains on your hands. "Truthfully, I was not expecting this so early on. Oh, Cass, I'm dreadfully unprepared. I really didn't think I had that good of a connection with anyone last night, let alone as many people as Father said!"
Cass rolled her eyes and responded, "Obviously you didn't think you had a good connection with anyone. But if you were to forget that Ben existed for about three seconds, would that alter your perception?"
Groaning, you replied, "Cass, I don't need this from you today. Yes, maybe I compared these gentlemen to my best friend initially, but I promise I moved beyond that. Most men, like us, have ambitious mamas keen on securing advantageous matches, which might explain their early-morning presence."
"Well, perhaps. But you are in high demand either way," your sister declared, gently ushering you out of your room and toward the grand staircase. "Y/N Beaumont, if you do not hurry up and get downstairs, I swear I will start to talk to these gentlemen myself," Cass threatened, earning a laugh from you as you made your way to confront the eager line of callers awaiting your presence.
---
Amid the afternoon light filtering through the drawing room curtains, you found yourself the center of attention. The room was adorned with fresh flowers, their sweet fragrance lingering. Seated gracefully on a chaise, your vibrant eyes sparkled with curiosity and trepidation as you faced the seemingly endless line of suitors vying for your favor. You were enjoying seeing suitors more than you had enjoyed the previous night, even though you had loved dancing at the ball. Today's tête-à-têtes seemed to unfold more leisurely, offering you the luxury of time and a touch more intimacy, save for Lady Primrose and Cass' discreet presence. You discovered a certain joy in these extended conversations, different from the hurried introductions of the ball, giving you the tiniest glimmer of hope once again.
Currently, you were listening to Mr. Archibald Roxbury recite a poem he had written that had been, in his own words, inspired by your radiance at the ball, and he couldn't resist putting his sentiments into verse. The poem was sweet and not half bad, but you had been seeing suitors for several hours and were now quite exhausted.
Your brothers had been out for most of the day, but you could hear their loud voices echoing through the halls past the open door of the drawing room, questioning the queue of suitors inside their home. You almost breathed an audible sigh of relief when Alex stepped into the room, directing his attention toward you. "Y/N, a word?"
Offering a brief apology to Mr. Roxbury, you eagerly followed Alex's lead. Leaning down, Alex spoke lowly, "Quite popular this afternoon, aren't you?"
"I guess so. It's been hours! I can't believe there are people still here. I'm so tired, Alex; I need a cup of tea or something! I can't keep doing this right now," came your exasperated response.
"Y/N, these men are here for you, not the other way around. I can make them leave whenever you would like," he responded with a hand on your shoulder, surveying the amount of people in the Beaumont home.
You followed his gaze, remembering the vast number of people you would still have to speak with if you were to talk to every single young man in your home that day. "You're right. I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of a break from it all," you said, uncertain.
Wasting no time, Alex left the room, and you returned to your previous spot, where Archibald continued his recital. You wondered when your afternoon would be over. Thankfully, you did not have to wait long. A few minutes later, all three of your brothers and your father entered the drawing room. Clearing his throat, Earl Beaumont addressed the crowd of young men in their home, "Thank you all very much for coming today, but Miss Beaumont will no longer be seeing any suitors today. You are welcome to come back another time."
Amidst the disappointed faces of your suitors, you saw Theo wink at you. You played your part, gracefully feigning disappointment, thanking the remaining suitors for their gifts, and bidding them adieu. Truthfully, you just wanted to leave the drawing room and have a few moments to yourself, but etiquette called for you to wait until all the guests had left your home.
You skipped over to your father once the last suit-clad man had exited. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I thought it would never end," you said gratefully. The earl chuckled at your theatrics but agreed, "I had been waiting the whole day to send them away. Far too many people in my house!"
Ever the comedian, Theo suggested, "Perhaps try being a tad more unpleasant next time, Y/N." Chiming in, Bastian added, "Or maybe don't put as much effort into your appearance at the next ball; that way, we won't have to deal with this again."
"Great suggestions, as ever, boys," you responded sarcastically. "Now, if I may be excused, I need to not see anyone for the next three years."
---
A candle lit your room softly as you leaned against your door, relishing the memories of the lively afternoon. Your fingers traced the edges of the letters, flowers, and tokens scattered across your dressing table—a testament to the whirlwind of introductions and pleasant conversations you had the first day after your debut.
Yet, a shadow flickered in your eyes as you settled into a more contemplative mood. A silent ache enveloped you as you remembered Benedict, whose absence cast a subtle but palpable pall over the festivities. Amid all the excitement, you found yourself yearning for the comfort of his presence, the familiar cadence of his voice, and the reassuring touch of his hand. You were lost between the allure of newfound admirers and the unspoken yearning for someone who already knew you like the back of his hand.
Confusion crept in as you internalized your feelings. Even if Ben had not gone to the countryside at the same time as you were due to make your debut, he wouldn't have been present when you saw suitors, only the night before at the ball. So why did you miss him when he wouldn't have been there logistically? Lost in contemplation, you gazed out the window, the night sky adorned with stars that had no answer to your question.
---
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#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton angst#benedict bridgerton x best friend!reader#bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x you#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton angst#love in bloom#love in bloom: writing
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People like to point to a lot of random scenes in Link Click to justify why ShiGuang being romantic is canon. Now, I'm not the creator of Link Click, I have no authority on the subject. So most the time, it's a "lets agree to disagree" situation.
However, there is one scene from Episode 1 that I find down-right offensive for people to point to as evidence of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang being an item:
There is no doubt that this scene is incredibly beautiful and loving, but romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.
What makes this particular scene really lovely is information we're given later in the show. Its full tenderness only clicks in hindsight once we know more about the characters and Cheng Xiaoshi's past. Specifically, when we understand more about how their powers work and the tragic fact that Xiaoshi is (effectively) an orphan.
So we need to back up a few steps.
The scene begins with us seeing Emma dreaming about her parents, and we eventually see a visual representation of how Cheng Xiaoshi is also experiencing this dream as her, taking on her feelings.
Then there's her parents leaving, metaphorical for how out of her life they are now and how much Emma misses her parents (duh).
The fun part comes from the fact that it's not Emma we see as a child at this point, but Xiaoshi. He is being left behind by his parents.
Look at this face. IT'S THE FACE OF PAIN, and for me it honestly didn't make sense why this dream was as emotionally impactful for him as it was (on my first watchthrough).
Afterwards Cheng Xiaoshi wakes up, and Lu Guang notices this. At times like this, I really appreciate the dub for localising what's being said better than the more literal subtitles (even though the dub definitely says some shit that just ain't true). The dub's word choices are:
LG: "You're up?"
CXS: "I dreamt that I had spring rolls with my parents."
LG: "Folks on your mind?"
CXS: "Yeah, and they're on hers as well."
LG: "When you became her, you took on some of her feelings and her memories. It must be tough."
CXS: "... I wonder if they'll come back."
and then Cheng Xiaoshi rolls over and starts hugging himself tightly because of the unbearable pain
It takes a hot second for Lu Guang to realise what Cheng Xiaoshi actually means by his statement, that the 'they' in question is his own parents rather than anyone in Emma's life.
Naturally, Lu Guang understands that Cheng Xiaoshi is suffering immensely right now because Xiaoshi's being forced to feel the agonising hole is his life that came from the worst thing that ever happened to him.
And so, he reaches through time and space (metaphorically?) to comfort him, his all-time best friend and, yes, potential romantic partner, telling him that "It will work out, just rest." Because SWEET JESUS, WHO WOULDN'T TRY COMFORTING THEIR FRIEND IN THAT MOMENT!? WHO??
It's beautiful. It's sweet. It's loving. It shows how in-tune they are to each other and that they care about each other's well being. No macho shit here, only a wholesome connection that we are all jealous of and celebrate.
Bonus analysis: knowing Cheng Xiaoshi's emotional state at this point, his re-suffering of the pain from being separated from his parents, then makes the message from Emma's mother and his reaction to it all the more emotionally touching.
Maybe the reason he sent the reply "I miss you" wasn't even for Emma's sake in that moment, but a result of the line between his own loneliness and hers having become so blurred in that sleepy moment.
I'd just like to clarify again, if you think they're gay together: cool.
If you think this scene is the reason why: not cool.
Romance isn't the highest form of love, and it's not gay or weird to love your friends. What Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang have is really beautiful, and I honestly don't think I've ever seen such a great depiction of two men who are so comfortably close to each other.
Whether their relationship is platonic or otherwise doesn't really matter here. What upsets me is the unhealthy elevation of romantic love as the most true and purest form of love over all other kinds -- that you can only care about someone this much and want them in your life ONLY if you want to marry them or something -- an idea that ends up hurting a lot of people.
Romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.
#link click#shiguang dailiren#link click analysis#cheng xiaoshi#lu guang#whatever they have is lightyears ahead of human comprehension#bros that travel through time together stay together#no homo tho
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Stede tells the crew: "We'll talk it through as a crew" and he gets them to be emotionally open and honest with him and with each other, but he can't bring himself to do the same. He gets Ed to open up to him in a sobbing meltdown but he's a closed book.
I think the first (and possibly only) time in the show that Stede ever actually talks about his own feelings is on the beach: "You make Stede happy."
THIS IS VERY TRUE
and since i have a couple minutes i want to talk about stede and trauma responses.
because stede's got a lot going on, re: the reasons he makes some pretty poor choices throughout the run of the show; he's got a touch of narratively ironic main character syndrome, he's preeeeeeetty fucking non-neurotypically coded, his wealth and material comfort have kept him from noticing the larger state of the world, the hilarious snippy retorts parts of him are hilarious and snippy, etc.
but on top of that: we've met his fucking dad. i don't really want to speculate past what canon showed us, but i'd say he absolutely qualifies as emotionally abusive, and we know he sent stede off to sad alone little rich boy school at some point.
we get zero indication stede has experienced even the barest attempts at emotional support until mary offers them, at which point he's like 'what is this... telling people deeply personal things about you that you speak of??? and then people don't take those things and laugh at you??? they want to help you??? seems sus, i would rather go read a book and/or run away to sea like a small child lugging his backpack of fruit snacks down to the park. also when i tried to tell you about horses with kind eyes you didn't understand what i was trying to do there and i felt slighted, so thanks to my upbringing i have taken that miscommunication and hung onto it and even if i don't know it, it's playing into why i won't take you up on your very kind and well-communicated offer to alleviate my pain. i am A LOT. it's sad, it's realistic, but oh man. it's hard dealing with me and it's hard BEING me. tell you the truth, i don't like it much either. or myself! weird, that.'
this man makes me want to CRY.
anyway: stede grew up with a father who looked him in the face and said: you suck. you deserve no kindness, which is handy because i will never show it to you! and if you don't get used to that level of cruelty in the place that should feel safest from the person the world says is taking care of you, you are not gonna make it out of this shit alive.
stede made it the fuck out. he cut himself into pieces and shoved himself into boxes and learned to shut his fucking mouth and not expect kindness, so when people offer it to him he doesn't trust it.
hell. i'm not even sure he knows what kindness is, before he takes his fruit snacks and his backpack and runs away to the sea.
i truly do love this show.
#my ofmd meta#okay now to like. do an adult thing. a chore! who knows#the world is my responsibility oyster
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if you're comfortable, i would love to know more about the akechi npd headcanon. i think it's a rlly interesting take on his character and i wanna learn more abt npd bc i have bpd and ig im interested in what people experience with the other cluster b personality disorders? i just kinda wanna know why you think he has it and also maybe some of the mental stuff he has to experience with it. doesn't have to be detailed or personal i dont wanna make u uncomfy! i just cant stop thinking abt this hc haha :)
im actually on a mental health break right now, but this ask intrigued me so im answering it anyway. first off thank you for staying kind throughout the whole thing :)
its kind of hard for me to really describe why i think a character has/is something, because things like personality disorders are still a wide spectrum and every person experiences things differently, and i dont wanna make it seem like theres a one-way to have npd, but im gonna try anyway!
there is a site which helped me immensely throughout my self-diagnosis, so if you want to read more about the topic than what im gonna say here, here u go:
lets start simple and the thing that makes it most obvious to me: the engine room dialogue.
people with npd can heavily rely on other people for their self-esteem, because narcissists usually have a very low one. thats why they take on many tasks ("i was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image—so someone would want me around!") and might overwork themselves for more praise and acknowledgement ("you wanted to be acknowledged, didn't you? to be loved?") because its what they need to not constantly crash. a crash is something that happens when you dont get enough supply—which can be words of affection, praise, acknowledgement, etc—and you internalize it, doubt yourself, feel disgusting and generally you get to a really low point. this is just speculation, but i can see goro having a ton of those, especially during the time the phantom thieves get popular and he becomes public enemy nr 1. thats also why i drew him thinking "i really need supply rn but i'd rather die than ask for attention" because vulnerability is also a big thing people with npd can struggle with. we dont want to be seen as weak—our narcissism is essentially a shield, so we're seen as tough, when in reality, our egos can be very fragile.
one thing that the engine room makes very clear and also other interactions goro has with akira, is that hes very envious of others who have had it better than him. especially someone like akira, who was thrown away by society just like he was, was able to move past it, found friends and is acknowledged by many people. goro is jealous of it all, and thats the thing; people with npd can feel like they're supposed to be special ( and to me, with goro explaining how he got his personas, and how he often calls others stupid, its clear that he does feel that way about himself to a certain degree ) and anyone who threatens that status, anyone who seems much more special than we are is seen as a legitimate threat. its an ugly feeling and it can make us hate even those we love for some time.
this attributes to dysregulation of our emotions too. people with npd often feel their emotions, especially negative ones, way more intense than they actually should be and have difficulty calming down due to that. negative emotions often linger for a long period of time and its hard to move on so we hold grudges. now this might come to no surprise to anyone that goro is a very angry and sad person. especially in the engine room its clear that even after the others extend their hands out to him, its difficult for him to comprehend and he still acts rather mean and calls them idiots for trying to "save" him. when someone with npd is experiencing a multitude of negative emotions, it may cause them to avoid other people or act aggressive towards them because they feel trapped. theres many explanations as to why goro is the way he is in the 3rd semester, and i dont think only one of them has to be correct, but i do think that with the knowledge of whats happening ( like: being under the control of someone else again, or having to work with people who are unpredictable and who have seen you at your lowest point ) makes him act out to keep all of them, especially akira, at bay.
in the duel against akira—im sorry i cant really quote it, i just have a general idea of it in my head rn—i read what he says in a way that makes it clear that he struggles with a superiority AND inferiority complex, which sounds stupid at first i know, but its fairly easy to explain. like i already said, a narcissist's self-esteem is usually pretty low and we rely on others to know how to feel about ourselves. theres two traits of npd that are necessary traits to have: being self-centered and feeling entitled to good treatment, and seeking admiration from others/liking to be the center of attention. so there is some kind of superiority complex going on, at least thats what i would call it in goro's ( and my ) case. we can feel on top of the world in one moment, but once we have a crash or experience intense negative emotions, its back to being the worst human being on earth. i dont think its ooc to say that goro hates himself, as some like to claim he only ever thinks hes better than everyone else. i think that just attributes to harmful stigma. with everything goro experiences in life, coping with narcissism to hide a fragile sense of being just makes sense to me.
theres more i could probably add here but this thing is long enough as is. please do keep in mind that many of my headcanons for goro are me projecting—but that doesnt mean theres no basis for it in canon as well, as i've tried to explain here. at first i actually thought he could have bpd, but i dont know enough about it to really judge that—so it could still very well be that, or both, i dont really know how it works! im rather new to this as well, and at first i was scared of doing any research because npd is so heavily stigmatized. i wish there were more people like you, anon.
if you have any more questions feel free to ask them :)
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hi there, im not sure if your requests are open but how about iida x reader who just got glasses and feels like a dweeb? thanks in advance ^^ !!
Aww this is such a sweet ask! Nmakandjbff Imagining it it's just so adorable sklsmnf
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3
Check out my kinktober!
𝐈𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐃𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐛
You had just gone to Recovery Girl to open up about the almost constant headaches you've been experiencing over the past year or so. And sure, it's irresponsible to sleep on something that could be so serious for so long, but it's just nice to live in denial sometimes.
Part of you was convinced that it was a tumor for a while, and it was the main reason you didn't go and get it looked at, because if you were gonna kick the bucket, you would rather do it in blissful ignorance, thank you! But as soon as you'd opened your big mouth to Tenya, he personally saw to it that you were escorted straight to recovery girl to get a professional opinion.
On the way to her office you were given a stern earful from your concerned, worrywart friend, and you weren't given even the slightest chance to claw your way out of an impromptu doctors appointment.
You had never expected this outcome, though.
Apparently, the headaches and pain was a sign of sensitivity to light, which is experienced more commonly by people with more reactive pupils, like yourself. The solution?
Glasses.
In all honestly, you never really thought of people with glasses as any different, but as soon as you put them on yourself, the change was not handled well. They look hideous on you, all big and bulky and irritating to wear.
The first time Tenya caught you not wearing them was the very next day. Cue another earful.
"This continuous irresponsibility is highly unbecoming of one of Japan's future top heroes! What is so difficult about wearing a simple pair of spectacles?! I really should know!"
He chops his hands and furrows his eyebrows at you as he gives you another lecture, and you know it's only coming from a place of valid concern for you, but you just don't like it when he points out how stubborn you're being.
"I look like a dweeb! Come on- nobody's gonna take me seriously when I look like this! They don't suit me at all, they're hideous! I'd prefer the pain, thank you very much-!"
"Oh! So you think I look like a "dweeb"?!"
This was supposed to be his 'got ya' moment, but you had other plans.
"No, ya' just act like one."
"What was that?!"
"Nothing!"
He offers only a simple sigh in response, placing a hand on your back lightly to attempt comforting you.
"I, for one, thought they looked rather lovely on you... But nobody is focusing on what you look like. -With the exception of maybe Mineta but it's not your face he's looking at- Anyway, I think you look just fine. They actually rather suit you... You look cute. Just do me this favour, please? Avoiding this problem is not healthy."
You've loved him even more ever since he's started to adopt a slightly more crude sense of humour, but aside from that, he's just so good at making you feel better. Now, you actually feel a lot better. Pretty good, actually.
He's not surprised when you offer a small sigh back as you rest your head gently on his shoulder, just to find a place to be more comfortable while you pout and be all miserable for the next few minutes.
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha fanfiction#mha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha headcanons#mha fluff#iida x reader#tenya iida imagine#iida tenya#iida x y/n#tenya headcanons#tenya x reader#boku no hero academia tenya#mha tenya#tenya fluff#tenya x y/n#bnha tenya
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Who is Critter Skritter?
Just some little guy who ran from the thought of home, only to stumble upon another in the process of said action. Their old home is dead and encased in crystal, so by winds and rumour do they wander in search of new experiences and sights to fill them. Such a shame that such wanderings had grown from of clearing out monster-infested mines and pirate dens to slaying gods left and right.
Had only recently worked out that they're not a girl halfway through a war. And had figured out that they had found a home in others through the next.
Why is Critter Skritter...
1, a lalafell?) I originally wanted to see what playing as a tiny little guy was like in terms of gameplay and other things like cutscenes and cosmetics (not much for the first and second, and a tonne of things for the last) and grew massively attatched to them as time went on!
2, looks like they're going through alot?) Most of the time it's me projecting my own feelings onto them as I play and witness a plethora of things in ff14.
3, transgender?) I was working on the same feelings too tbh. I suppose eventually, as I grew more attatched, Critter was a reflection(?) distillation(?) fragment(?) of what I would rather be? I suppose I'm still working on it myself, but I'd like to think that Critter eventually figured it out and settled onto something that they're ultimately comfortable with, be it on their own or with loved ones.
How does Critter fight...
1. Alone?)
On their own, Critter plays to their own strengths but is far too aware of their own weaknesses to be truely risky. As a bard with a background in conjury and summoning, they do their best to suppliment any weak points some way or another. The flesh can be bolstered by spell, if they can't meet a foe head on, then why not a construct to take the blows? There's always terrain to scout, people to question, poisons to mix, and so on and on and on...
2. With others?) Critter is a Bard who empowers others through song and presence. They aim (haha) to keep their eye on the enemy, and create opportunities for others to strike! Should their expertise prove to not be enough in these situations, then they defer to their close friends or those more experienced. May heavens have mercy for those groups that Critter themself leads.
3. Desperately?) Intent and willpower is honed into a blade by the power of song, meter by bellowed breath to fuel destruction in the hands of one man. Here, is where reality loosens it's grip on the reigns of natural order. Where fey lights shimmer and dance to no wind, where summoned constructs swell in size and hunger, and where air grows heavy and laden with lightning, the foe mets their end, perhaps by arrows of blinding light, or with their throats torn out by tiny teeth, or by shattered heart. And should the foe stand, victorious, then Critter will die like the simple animals that they named themself to be.
Favorite things?
A good nap! And good food! Maybe some time to chat with the locals or to find a tiny (or large) animal and give pets! I think Critter likes to make friends in strange places and find friends in even stranger places! They'd love to listen and learn new songs, even if they could only sing and remember a few reliably. Critter would be happiest with their friends, wherever they may be.
#Critter Skritter#oc talk#wol oc#this probably might be the most ive talked about critter at length#if i ever do one of those neat-er looking pinned posts then for sure im linking this post there. whenever that may be...
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Can you share your experiences with being in special ed? What are some pros and cons of switching to a special ed school from mainstream education?
Yes, I'd be happy to share some of my experiences and perspectives. ^^
Until the age of 11, I was in general education. Being in general education without adequate support was a challenge. I often felt isolated, scared and misunderstood. I struggled to keep up with the pace of the classroom and found it difficult to form relationships. When I finally did make a friend, I became so incredibly attached to and obsessed with them to the point it was "suffocating" for both of us, and majorly impacted my mental health in a negative way. I already struggled in class, and couldn't keep up, so it definitely didn't help that all I could think about was this friend (who was already toxic in the first place). I also had teachers who weren't understanding at all. My fourth grade teacher literally made me throw away my project once because I folded it wrong, and then wouldn't let me start over.
Point is, general education was really difficult for me, and it felt really unsafe.
It wasn't until I entered special education that I began to receive the support I needed to communicate and learn effectively. One of the biggest advantages of attending a special education school as an autistic individual is the access to specialized support and resources. In my experience, special education schools often have a team of professionals who are well-versed in working with autistics. They understand the unique challenges and strengths of autism and can tailor their support to meet my specific needs.
I am allowed to take breaks, there are multiple ESA's on campus, bringing comfort objects is normalized, stimming is normalized, my classes cover topics slower, my classes teach one grade lower than the one you are in, etc.
Those things are all very helpful for me.
Unfortunately, there are of course some cons to being in SPED, too.
A challenge that I have experienced in SPED schools is infantilization. Sometimes, teachers and other staff members may treat us as if we are young children rather than teenagers. This makes me deeply upset. It happened to me today and I texted my mom to pick me up early because of how anxious it made me feel.
Another one is a bit more difficult for me to explain, because I dont know if anyone else feels upset about it. Since my school is smaller, I dont see as many students with interests similar to mine, or different fashions, or social media things. This made me feel like I was missing out on a lot of the typical school experiences that my peers were having, or like I see on television.
Finally, there is a stigma attached to special education that can be difficult to overcome. While special education can provide necessary support and resources, it can also be viewed as a place for "problem" students or as a "lesser" form of education. This stigma can lead to feelings of shame and inadequacy and can negatively impact an individual's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. Personally, when out and about around other people my age who arent disabled, I hear people use "SPED kid" as an insult a lot. I know that this is no different than any other ableist insult, but it makes me feel very upset.
This was based purely on my feelings and experiences.
#sped#special education#special ed#general education#actually autistic#neurodivergent#aac user#nonspeaking autistic#autism#nonspeaking#aac device#aac users#disabled
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Guardians of the Galaxy 3, Rocket, And Why I Keep Thinking About This Damned CGI Raccoon
GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOLUME 3 SPOILERS AHEAD
For much of early to mid 2023, I had been in a rut. My work on personal writing projects had ground to a halt, and I was now more focused on the minutia of specific lines and the emotions they conveyed in the moment rather than seeing the overall work for what it was. I was anxious, terrified that I didn't know whether I was saving my work with any given edit or ruining it.
Eventually, I figured it was time to take a break from the things. Time to let my mind rest so I could let go of this arbitrarily high standard I had set for myself. While this relieved my anxiety, it brought about a new ailment: a sense of depressing aimlessness. I had dedicated essentially my entire life to my work for so long that to be without it felt wrong. I realized that ever since I'd went all-hands-on-deck with my perfectionism streak, I had taken to eating the exact same meal three times a day. I had stopped going outside. I had stopped listening to music. My passion for life had disappeared without me realizing it, and I was left with nothing but dark musings on my own mortality and the unshakable notion that I was wasting time. That I no longer had purpose.
I was never really invested in Disney's Marvel Cinematic Universe. I had seen some of the films, but did not feel overly attached to them outside of "Hey, that was a cool movie." The one aspect of it that both I and my family came to the theaters for whenever a new entry released was Guardians of the Galaxy. I've always been fascinated by the space opera genre (there's a reason I write so much of it) and James Gunn is great at weaving comedy and sincerity into his work in equal measure to create characters that are easy to care about, something I cannot say for other aspects of the MCU. Still though, my fandom of Guardians' characters was only in passing... until in May of 2023, when I watched Volume 3 on a whim.
I'm sure you've heard of the 'Gifted Kid to Anxious Adult Pipeline.' It's something I'm fairly sure I experienced first-hand. When I was young I was considered smart for my age. I was also considered a troublemaker who hated listening to authority. At the time, I had yet to be diagnosed with Autism or ADHD, so I'm sure my teachers and the other adults that interacted with me simply thought I was 'disobedient' and just needed to 'apply myself.' I suspect that this notion carried over into my modern life and education somewhat as well.
Once I had my diagnoses, I knew that I was different. I knew I had a reason to not concern myself with being in line with what was trendy or popular, and I had a prime excuse to violate the social norms I hated most. It also made me incredibly aware of how specific the aptitudes I possessed were. I am no savant, but I've heard from a lot of people that I'm good at what I do, probably on account of me pushing myself to fully commit to whatever task I engage in to the point of anxiety-inducing perfectionism. I suppose that's symptomatic of the high expectations people had for me in my youth.
Something that probably didn't help was the fact that my ADHD makes it incredibly challenging for me to focus on things I'm not burningly passionate about. I can handle whatever task is thrown at me, but it's extremely emotionally distressing unless I want to do it. It's not a sensation of boredom or irresponsibility, but a deep pain that registers on a level beyond the physical.
The common core education system didn't care, though. It, and all of the adults in my life, demanded success above all else. And so I pushed myself to success above all else. The latter half of my education felt like a constant struggle to survive, a battle against my own nature to ensure that I could secure a comfortable future (and so I would not lose the things that made me truly and wholly happy - my video games and my comfort objects, i.e. stuffed animals and inflatables.) The cost of this battle was only my happiness, and to some extent, my personhood.
The time that I began this 'fight for my life' in my education was also the time that my older cousin began to have a major presence in my life. He'd grown up rougher than me, adapting to become more 'street smart' to avoid hazing from bullies. I think he saw me, a neurodivergent, scrawny, and likely pretty obviously queer kid, and wanted to make sure I was safe from the riff-raff he was used to. So he tried to toughen me up. He taught me how to walk right, what clothes to wear, how to keep my voice and head down to avoid trouble with the older kids, etc. (He even advised me to burn my collection of stuffed animals - advice I will never regret ignoring!)
I think it was this, the growing disparity between my perception of maturity and my own comforts, and the overall apathy of the world around me towards my academically-based emotional distress, that made me into a more reserved person as I became a teenager. I already had trouble making friends, considering that so much about my interests and personality were - and still are - intrinsically based in the nebulous, indescribable web of my life experiences. But this was the turning point that rendered me closed off from almost everybody, save for those few special people I could and can still be candid and emotionally open with. I became afraid to make new friends, scared that the more they'd find out about me the more they'd realize how strange I was, and say or do something horrible to me or the things I love.
I wanted to share this experience and the way it made me feel with others, and I think that's why all of these sentiments (intentionally or not) worked their way into my writing.
(I swear this is about Rocket, just be patient.)
My main story, WarTorn, is set in a space opera universe where humans and anthropomorphic animals co-exist, and sometimes groups of the former decide to try to destroy the latter in big wars that are metaphors for religious persecution of LGBTQ+ people, and there are ancient secrets left behind by past intergalactic civilizations, and so on and so forth, but for the sake of this current topic of conversation there is only one aspect that matters: the main character, the namesake of my online presence, Luke Sanders.
Luke is spotted out as a child by the government of the human-anthro' Coalition to take part in a Super-Soldier program to destroy the puritanical anti-anthro' army that has risen in the dark corners of this fiction's Galaxy. They take him and a bunch of other children, both human and anthro's, and mold them into the soldiers the Galaxy needs them to be. Luke becomes a hero, but after all of the brutal training, extensive education and brainwashing, and the agonizing and near-fatal chemical and cybernetic augmentations, he has lost his personhood. He sees himself as a machine, existing only to serve and be a beacon of strength to the people he protects, burying his emotions so he can't be judged for them. But while he attempts throughout the story to steel himself from his emotion, it subconsciously slips in anyways.
From the beginning of the military career he lost his childhood training for, his life is painted by tragedy. He loses his childhood best friend early on, and his lover much later, both people he had formed bonds with that defied physical description. Every loss becomes not just an emotional toll but a personal failure, and he beats himself up for not being able to meet the expectations placed upon his shoulders. Eventually he becomes so afraid of losing the ones he loves that he stops loving altogether, and becomes even more stoic and isolated than before. It's only after circumstance forces him to create new bonds and become close with new friends that he realizes that he is indeed a person, that his feelings matter, and that the time he spends with the ones he loves while he has them make all the heartbreak worth it. Later, when Luke and the Coalition finally win the conflict against the puritanical threat that has gripped the Galaxy for years, and Luke is able to get his happily ever after, he can't help but feel aimless in a universe where he no longer has purpose. His journey becomes finding a purpose of his own, fully becoming a person, finally free of the high expectations he likely imposed upon himself. One big dramatized metaphor for my own personal feelings throughout life.
In Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3, the snarky and cynical Rocket the Raccoon's past is explored heavily. He is revealed to have once been a raccoon from Earth, taken at a young age by the evil High Evolutionary and molded into a thinking and speaking creature through extensive and cruel surgery and augmentations. Despite the hardship, he is driven by his connection to his friends (three other test subjects, Lylla the Otter, Teefs the Walrus, and Floor the Rabbit, all three of whom have also been extensively modified) and together they look forward to the promise of a happy life in the High Evolutionary's perfect society once his work is done. However, eventually it is revealed that the High Evolutionary no longer has a need for Rocket and his friends - they were only created for their intelligence and ingenuity, for their knowledge to be a stepping stone towards a better iteration of the High Evolutionary's perfect beings - and that he and his friends are to be killed. Rocket attempts to break Lylla, Teefs, and Floor out of their captivity, but all of his friends who he was up until this point motivated by the dream of a perfect life with, die in the escape attempt. Rocket is left the only survivor, alone and depressed now that that the only things that made him happy and hopeful in the universe have been ripped from him. He becomes cynical and jaded, afraid to let others too close to him for fear of losing them too. He feels like a monster, warped and created without purpose. He only overcomes this when forced into an alliance with the other Guardians, who are also carriers of their own trauma, and together they create an unbreakable bond. And it's only on the verge of death, in his darkest hour, that Rocket is visited in a dream by his friends, and Lylla tells him that his existence is more meaningful than he knows. He pulls through and rejoins his friends in the fight, not only defeating the High Evolutionary but saving the other animals that were being tested on, learning that he is indeed a raccoon in the process. Up until this point, he has seen 'raccoon' as a demeaning term, something to label him as something other, something less than a person. But here he realizes it's actually his identity, that he's not alone and never was. And by the end, he heals, ready to find that purpose and set his own expectations for himself.
I wrote the entirety of WarTorn way before Guardians 3 came out, so seeing the parallels between Rocket's story and Luke's, especially when Luke is so heavily inspired by my own life, was an extremely emotional experience. I've been going over scenarios in my head where Luke and Rocket interact. They'd clash at first because of their different personalities (and because Rocket is Rocket) but slowly realize how similar their lives and troubles are, and then help each other find their missing pieces and become better people. I adore the idea of these two forming an understanding of each other's histories just from seeing each other's reactions to little things and recognizing their own trauma in each other's behavior, to the point that they know they can confide in one another and be met with unabashed understanding and acceptance, free of judgment because "Hey... I've been there." And in some abstract way, I have too.
The first thing I had thought leaving that theater was "I want to hug that raccoon and let him know that he is beautiful and loved." So I ordered a plush. I needed something physical to latch onto, some way to express this overwhelming emotion physically. And now he has a special place in my arms as I lay in bed or on my desk as I work or in my canvas bag when I go out of the house.
Rocket is very important to me. He's the first thing I had poured over in months that wasn't "oh my God I'm a terrible writer" or "I'm going to die someday." And that puts him at least somewhat above all of the other comfort characters and hyperfixations I've had over the years. Because he's the first thing I have loved with all my heart in a long, long time. And now, whenever that oppressive melancholy begins to creep up my mind, I think of him and the parts of my life that led me to being so emotional about him, and I am reminded that love and feeling still exist in my heart, and always will.
#rocket raccoon#gotg vol 3#gotg rocket#guardians of the galaxy#guardians 3#guardians 3 spoilers#gotg#gotg volume 3 spoilers#im probably reading too much into all of this but its is my life
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Make it right, it's gonna be all right
I'm just going to include this gif at the top because its one of my favorite Jimin gifs from this past year.
I had meant to come back here sooner, but to be honest my life is kind of a mess right now and work has been killing me so I haven't wanted to spend any more time on the computer than I have to during the day. But as we approach enlistment week, I felt like it made sense to come back on here and share some of the feelings I've been trying to process since news of Jimin's enlistment first dropped.
There are a couple of things that I feel like are important to preface before I share the rest of my feelings:
I am not Korean and have never lived in South Korea, so I don't have an intimate understanding of how the enlistment process or military service in South Korea works. I will do my best to just share my feelings and opinions without getting to deeply into things that I don't really have a place to comment on.
Generally speaking, I am a pacifist so I wish that we lived in a world where no one had to serve in the military, voluntarily or involuntarily. I also understand why that isn't always a reality.
I am a woman, so in most cases mandatory military service isn't something that would apply to me and therefore I can't really speak to how this would make me feel if I was in his shoes.
Obviously we knew this day was going to come eventually, especially once Jin had started the enlistment process, but it doesn't make it any easier to sit and think about not having Jimin around for the next 18 or so months. It's a weird set of emotions to process the absence of someone who you don't know personally, but who has been a constant in your life for years. The fact that this comes during December, a month which many people (including myself) find to be a difficult time of year, only makes it harder.
Because a conversation around whether or not the members of BTS should have to serve is basically irrelevant at this point, I'd rather focus on some of the conversations I've seen around whether or not Jimin will "do well" in the military.
Now, some of what I've seen posted is coming from PJMs or other Jimin fans who are concerned with his welfare and whether or not he will be subject to bullying or harassment like some other idols have experienced. I've also seen some really unhinged takes saying he is too "weak" or won't be able to cope due to some imagined mental health issue (obviously this is not coming from anyone who really cares for or supports Jimin). I even saw posts detailing Jimin's martial arts prowess meant to defend him against those accusations.
So let me be real for a sec - I think Jimin is one of the most dedicated and hard working people I have ever come across and I'm including people I know IRL in that calculation. That isn't just about his martial arts background (even though he could definitely kick some ass if he wanted to), how many hours he spent on his own practicing his singing and dancing leading up to and after his debut, the amount of work he put into FACE, or even how grueling the life of an idol can be. I think it comes down to the type of person he is at a fundamental level - no one can keep up that level of effort on an ongoing basis unless it's hardwired into them. Ultimately, this is what I think will help Jimin to survive and even thrive during his service.
Beyond all that, seeing how well Jin and Hobi seem to have done during their service so far also gives me a lot of comfort. Knowing that Jimin and JK will be stationed with Jin for the next few months gives me hope that he can show them the ropes and help them get settled in. Having those familiar faces will have to make things easier, especially in the beginning.
Even though I'm sure Jimin will be fine, I am wondering what the best way to cope with all of this will be. It feels a little weird to be worried about his fans in a situation like this but at the same time I know I'm not the only one who cares deeply for him and will be impacted by this situation. I think my game plan right now is to light a candle that day for Jimin and send out some positive vibes for his happiness and a safe return, but if anyone has some good suggestions please share.
I probably won't be able to be super active on here until after the holidays are over, but if I think of anything slightly interesting to share I will try and post that when I can. I've also been thinking of what I might want to do in the new year to continue to celebrate Jimin until he comes back. I was considering doing some posts discussing some of my favorite songs or music videos of his, but would be open to suggestions if there is anything you would like to hear my thoughts on. I'm also happy to be here to listen if you need someone to chat with about missing Jimin.
Hope wherever you are you are having a good morning/day/evening/night 💗.
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Bodies
Sign early on that I was trans but did not clock until later in my life: I never really wanted to be a man.
I genuinely did not know that most boys actually did want to be a man. Or that they found that they could relate to their role models in some way.
I honestly didn't have any role models. There wasn't really a lot of people I wanted to be like. I always thought it was weird that my guy friends could idealize themselves into being a pro basketball or baseball player. And when I got to high school, and they started getting sports scholarships and being scouted for athletics, it never clicked for me that "oh, they're going into actual adult sports because they are adults now and wanting to be a sports player was them preparing to become one as an adult."
I wanted to be a writer. That was my big dream as a young person. It was the only thing that held interest for me, the only thing that made sense for me to do. I liked teaching, I liked creating, I liked coming up with interesting ideas, but a writer is uniquely disembodied. There is a level of distance between one's body and the words that one can produce upon a page. It is an intellectual exercise, even removed from things like mathematics or science, because a story is an ethereal thing. Even more than music, a story existed in the mind, and I found that purity of disembodied-ness compelling.
I didn't want to have a body. I didn't know why I didn't want to have a body, though. I figured I was stuck with a lemon of a body anyways. Even when I was at my athletic peak, even when I ran every day and lifted weights, I was always pretty awful at doing things with my body. My body and I have always been at odds.
There was a time when I was more sports minded, when I was a part of a swim team--but I hated taking my shirt off. I hated being perceived, because of how I looked. It was more than me being fat. It was that I was the wrong shape. I was the wrong body. There was an inherent wrongness to my existence that I could not name, did not have the words to explain, outside of "I'm not very athletic" and "I'm fat." No amount of exercise or diet or shame would ever remove that wrongness. I would never look or feel like other people. I would always bear a complete and utter wrongness of body, and I think that is why I lost myself in my academic and professional pursuits.
As long as I was smart, nobody cared that I was fat, or that I was... shaped wrong. As long as I could keep them thinking, as long as I could keep them distracted, I could not be perceived, but rather my mind, the real me, would be what they saw. My words became my body, and I found words far more malleable than my body.
But my words are not what people interact with. My words are not the vehicle I experienced the world with. There was a complete and utter disjointedness to my being, because I was never going to be comfortable with being seen as this thing that I was. Clothes would never fit right, nor feel right. My face would be hidden behind a beard because it was easier to exist if I never had to see myself. I wore baggy clothes. I liked office wear and casual, baggy tees. Because these were Acceptable. And it just... was. I couldn't do anything about it. I'd never lose the weight, not to the satisfaction of the world. But more than that, I'd never feel myself, because my body and the things that I thought of as my self were so separated.
As I began research for my PhD, however, this disjointedness of body and mind could not continue. My research into theories of mind, theories of self, theories of the soul, led me to the inescapable conclusion that I actually was my body. That one could not actually separate mind from body, not in any real way, because mind and body and soul are all the same damn thing. It's all a monad, a single entity. To separate it out is to kill the whole thing.
I had sat with this truth for years. Sat with this belief in the monadic quality of the body and self. It was fact. Truth. Inescapable. And I had to admit that yes, this was my body. But it never felt mine. It never felt like I owned it. And I had to interrogate why.
In the background, of course, my politics propelled me forward. I was progressive, then radical. I'm an anarchist, in that I do not believe in unjust hierarchies, or rather, that unjust hierarchies should not be allowed to exist. That we ought to dismantle the injustice of the world because it dehumanizes us all. In my beliefs, I encountered more and more trans people. And because of that, the idea of gender finally began to snugly fit in that place where the wrongness of my self existed. Gender slowly came into focus.
For a while, I was content to simply exist as a very feminine man. That everyone knew that I tended to go against masculinity in a lot of ways, that I did not behave as a typical man would. Yet even I didn't quite know how deep it went... until I allowed myself to question it all. Allowed myself to look back into my life, my relationship with my body, and see that I've always known that it was wrong.
I know that it's cliche to say that "I'm a woman born with the wrong body," but honestly it is a helpful model for people beginning to understand how gender and sex can be at odds. However, the thing that is true for me is that... I didn't always know it. I didn't know that I was a female in the body of a male, because I didn't know that I could be female at all. That gender presentation was something that could be addressed. That body could be changed to match what feels better for a person.
As of this writing, I'm a little less than four months into HRT. Things are changing slowly. My hormone levels are good, though, and I feel better than I have in actual years. Probably all my life. I'm able to access my emotions better (sometimes a little TOO well). I'm beginning to notice some changes in my body shape. I swear I look younger. It's going to be a long time--most likely around 3 years or more--for the full effects to take place. They are happening.
I'm still not 100% comfortable with my body, and I'm sure there will always be a level of discomfort there. But any comfort is better than the none that I lived with for far too long in my life. I will take all the joy and happiness and comfort that I've began to feel in the past four months. I will take it and run with it. I'm finally beginning to feel like a self, united in body and mind.
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Hi, besties!
So, over on my main page I've kept saying 'surprises are coming soon' and I know it's late on a Sunday here on the east coast of the USA but I know it's still light out on the west coast, my European besties will be waking up soon and my Australasia besties are already in tomorrow. I also know it's a holiday here in the US this weekend but that's not the case everywhere and I'm not too afraid to continue reblogging my own things.
Last year, I started writing this story called Flash in the Pan. It's a summer romance between a single dad and his young nanny. Due to some.... fun brain things, I had to walk away from this project but I was never done with it.
In fact, when I started to get better, I started to think of Tilly (and Nathan) again and how much their story means to me and how important it is for me to write a rather extreme age gap romance that is a lot about safety and mutual respect and understanding of power dynamics. The kind of age gap relationship I have and have not experienced in turn, essentially. But in thinking about them and rereading what I'd written so far I just realized that.... some things needed to change for me to be able to tell Tilly's story to an audience the way I wanted to and the way that would do what was in my head justice and I just didn't think I could achieve that with what was already on the page so I've been rewriting some things.
Behind the cut because this is a long post, my beloveds!
The first key difference in this rewrite of Flash in the Pan is that Tilly is slightly older. She's still nineteen but she's nineteen going on twenty and, in this version, she is in college instead of having just finished high school. Like I said, there was a lot that I was thinking about and one of the things that I was thinking about was Tilly's search for independence and wanting to be seen as an adult and that's definitely something I've been drawing from my own experiences about. And while I was drawing from my own experiences about seeing an older guy when I was freshly nineteen and freshly graduated from high school, I wasn't feeling like that was exactly something I could fully use as a playing ground for the growth I wanted Tilly to also experience from this relationship with Nathan. I want her to be at a point of transition in her life but I believe that I can achieve that still (and maybe even a lot better) with this difference.
And, honestly, from a marketing standpoint of this story, I'm aware that while I may be drawing inspiration off of a lot of my own experiences, the situation I was in is one of those situations where even just the mention of extreme age gap is a hard no boundary for some people. I expect that there will still be some hard no boundary on that and I respect that. At the end of the day, I write for me but I also want anybody who wants to read this to feel as safe as possible consuming these words.
Another really big difference here is that I'm not taking the best friend away in this version but I am changing the nature of their relationship. I like Tilly and Nina's flirtatious nature with each other, I like their obvious attraction to one another. I like that this is a person that Tilly has always, without a doubt, felt safe with. Safe to talk to, safe to explore things with. And I'm not saying I'm taking that away but I am going to dial it back. Tilly is not going to be as experienced in this version as she was in the first, especially not with Nina.
The reason I have decided to dial back that aspect of their relationship is because I started it with the goal of safety, I started it with the goal of showing that Tilly is really only comfortable talking about her sexuality with people who make her feel safe. However, there was such a gap between the episodes and after I got sick and didn't write for a long time, I came back and I read it and I read my notes and I thought, "I don't have the energy to do what I want to do for this." If I don't have the energy to do what I want to do for that plot line, that means I will not do it justice. At no point do I want that aspect of her relationship with Nina to come off fetishistic of WLW relationships and if I don't believe that I can do it justice then, for me, it is inherently fetishistic and that's unacceptable to me. Because there's already so much media that horribly portrays WLW relationships or curiosity in sexuality and I do not wish, after years of being harmed by that kind of media as a consumer, to contribute to the very problem and continue the cycle.
So, I'll be relaunching Flash in the Pan via both Kindle Vella and via Patreon. The reason I'm going to upkeep on Vella is because I know there are people who prefer that platform and it also exposes me to possible new readers! But for all my non-US friends who have been telling me for months that they want to read it and it's not accessible because of the platform and for my friends who have told me they don't like how Vella is set up, I'm going the route of Patreon. More to come soon on that and thank you for wanting to read about these people I made up falling in love or something like it.
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I don't know how to say this. I especially don't know how to say this when all available words regularly leak out my ears when I'm stressed or tired or both or neither. Um. So.
It'll take me a little while to write this, I imagine, and I won't be "back" here properly, whatever that means, until I write and post it.
Sexuality is a funny ol thing, and I'm not fully certain where I fit with it.
Most of that uncertainty comes from - not in knowing what I think, or want, really, but in not knowing if I can have that, safely for me.
I don't think I can, in person. I don't think it's in the least sensible, for me.
It probably sounds,, odd, given how much of myself I share here, and given the usual,, way things go.
I don't know how other people feel or experience,, life, everything, I only know what I do. And I don't know what I don't know, either.
But I think, generally, based on previous experience but very little practical evidence, really, that anything in person would be,, too much for me. It wouldn't be an exciting level of intense, it would be a panic-inducing level of intense. Probably. And I don't know how I'd react to that, without having experienced it. I do know how I react to some things - crowds, and fireworks, and like club music type - and I know that my reaction is not always clear to other people, and I know I can't always articulate what's going on in my head, I can't always "make the words go", I can't always explain myself and I tend, in the situations I know cause me stress, to stand stock-still until whatever it is stops, cry if it's really bad, or if I can then I'll cry and clench my jaw and keep walking until I'm away, if I can, if I can make myself move. And, I don't think I could make myself speak or move, if I was in that situation and overwhelmed, with something that isn't just a situation happening and rather a person who,, maybe hasn't expectations of things happening, but there is nonetheless still things happening.
Anything I have done in person has been. Very small, and a very long time ago, and while I was very drunk. It was good, but I'm not sure that I could do anything larger, any time soon if ever, and I'm certainly not getting drunk ever again, even if it does take the edge off my brain - because it takes the edge off my brain, and I'm not doing anything that I would need that for.
If that makes sense at all.
It's easier and safer, all round, to. Avoid that.
People say you have to leave your comfort zone, but my comfort zone is there for a reason, y'know? It's a good reason, and I'd like to keep to that reason.
I know myself, I'd like to stay myself.
I like it here, I do, it's a good place to be, it helps to have somewhere and someone/s to talk to. Y'know.
The conversations (and 'conversations') I've had, they're just as much for me as something in person might be, given I can't and don't want something in person.
I do say, fair often, honestly, it shows something of me to say it, but I do anyway - imagine it's my hands on you, I'm imagining your hands on me - y'know, I imagine that's something fair standard in this situation, where whoever is miles or a world away, y'know
It's true, true as anything I say, and I've never been a liar, that I'd want that, that I'd like that - I just don't think I can have that, in person, without such high levels of trust that I don't think are possible enough to outweigh my,, issues with all of it.
It's taken me a long time to recognise that this is. Not shame at feeling this way, really, not shame at being queer, at wanting anything - it's not, it just presents in a similar way, if you see what I mean? But there is some shame wrapped up in it - not in wanting it, the way that's I imagine more common, but in wanting it and not being able to have it, the way "normal people" do, in person.
Wanting it and talking about it - I should imagine some people would say it's only talking, tho it's not any "only" for me, really - that's all I can have, that's all I want, anything more scares the very bones of me, and will not be happening.
Everything I've said has been truth, I hope I've been clear - everything I've said in reply or in DMs has been truth - I am imagining that, I do want that, this is good - because I can do this, over such a distance - it's the distance that makes it easier to do, because while I want hands on me, I couldn't cope with hands on me, do you follow? And it being over text is also good, because I've got words there, when I can't say them aloud, do you see?
Sometimes it's been for not amazing reasons - anything since say January is from a good place, I'm in a far better place now, physically and mentally, than I was before then - if you want more information, I was grieving two grandparents at once, and dealing with Not somehow having lost most of my family due to being trans, and moving house, all at once. So while as I say all I've said has been truth, I was doing things in 2023 for reasons that,, were not sensible. I was doing too much, because to be frank, in hindsight, I wanted to feel good and wanted so that I stopped feeling so bad. I did feel good, but it's not the sort of feeling good I'd like to continue - same as I deleted all my old photos because they came from that sort of place, in favour of things that are from a better place for me, you know? I explained that in another post I think.
I have been in a better place since January, everything I've done since then has been from that better place.
It's tricky, some, I guess, sometimes, because I can be switchy - I explained that in another post, too, a bit, how easily I can turn from one to another, and how I don't sometimes know how to manage that, when I know someone wants something else from me - that hasn't happened while talking with anyone, but it is something that needs to be known of, so I can feel comfortable in mentioning it, if it were to ever.
Not to put anyone out or off or whathaveyou, I just want to make myself as clear as I'm able to. I hope I have done.
I'll not be really around until next week, but I'm likely to see if anyone sends me anything, y'know, to let you know. I just mightn't answer just yet 🤍🩵💚
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How about these for everyone?
🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?
💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?
from these questions! tw for mentions of parental abuse in J's sections.
🌺──how do they calm down after being scared? hmmm
Contrary to popular belief, Dylan actually suffers from panic attacks sometimes. They've never lasted very long but they've experienced them enough to know how to calm down by themselves (and around others without causing a fuss). They do a breathing countdown, mainly from 10 but they sometimes go from 20, and take themself somewhere quiet to just sit and come down. If it's a nightmare, Dylan tends to sketch them out──to set them free from their mind, or something.
Shay actually gets scared quite easily, lmao. However, he's also quite in touch with his emotions and knows how to let himself feel what he needs to feel. He doesn't try to stop being scared until the feeling has run its course and he doesn't bottle up his emotions and acts like they didn't happen. When Shay was younger his mother would card her fingers through his hair after a nightmare, so if someone were to to that he would calm down quicker, but he doesn't need it.
Kinsley doesn't really know how to handle her fear. She doesn't like feeling scared so she tells herself she doesn't──which never really works and usually makes it worse and sends her into a crying breakdown. Kin has taken to running her problems away. She can and she will go for a run after a nightmare, no matter what the time is──the stretch and burn if her muscles are a welcome way to distract her from thinking about her emotions. Which is healthier than just bottling up her emotions and shelving them never to be seen again... but it doesn't really let her let go of what she needs to, in the long run. (MC might be the push she needs to working through her fear and coming out into the light on the other side!)
J doesn't do scared. Which is probably quite unhealthy, but they learnt they couldn't afford to be scared when around their parents, or more specifically their father. Their response has turned into anger─always a fight response─and then to avoid acknowledging their fear. They've punched many a hole in walls after waking up from a nightmare. They usually use smoking as a vice to come down from those heightened emotions. poor bb J could learn to accept help from MC, eventually... especially if it was MCs gentle touch on their bare skin to keep them grounded in reality. (seeing J scared will happen during the IF...)
Not wanting to seem 'childish'... Theo has a collection of soft toys and blankets that help calm them down. They find that touching something soft gives them something else to focus on as they work through their emotions. They also like weighted blankets after a nightmare──to feel the weight is quite the comfort. Most times when Theo has felt scared or anxious in the space of other people they ask MC and/or C to keep squeezing their hands until their breath is steady again. They keep a very soft stuffed animal keychain on them at all times to hold on to afterwards. (C also has spares, just in case!)
💦──traumatic events in my slice of life? not really lmao! Only Kin and J have really traumatic events that happen.
For Kinsley, I'd erase the death of her mother, Emilia. That event was kind of the catalyst that shoved Kinsley into her 'ice mode'. Emilia was a very warm and loving person that would've helped Kinsley become the better person rather than the worse version of herself. (Though, trouble still may have happened between Kinsley's mother's even in Emilia were still alive...)
J has a multitude of traumatic events I could erase... but one I think they'd want to erase would be the time when their little sister, Arabella, witnesses their father give J a broken and bloody nose. This was before J was effectively disowned and they just think Bells was too young to be disillusioned about her father...
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I think I have to add more to my dni's when it comes to Submas.
There's too much I'd just rather not see and rather see from people interacting with me. Interactions have died down significantly from 2022, so maybe the fandom is finally dying down (please). So because of that, I often check who's interacted and if they're someone I'd like to follow back. What I often find is everything I don't want to engage with when it comes to Submas. I'm going to assume good faith, and that the people with the ableism aren't deliberately ignoring my dni, but rather don't understand what they've reblogged comes off as ableist. It's very easy to get into an echo chamber on here were everyone is sharing the same content and nobody is taking a step back to the outside to see how it looks to people not in the echo chamber. And I can explain all I want in posts, but people don't read, and don't share, because too many people don't understand there's no algorithm, and liking a post doesn't put it on anyone else's feed.
But I feel like there's more I need to clearly say no to besides ableism, bl*nkshipping, and ships where everyone is not a consenting adult; those are always a big NO from me.
But I'm so tired of seeing angst too (I knew someone would pull that shit with the crystal pool in kitakami!). Angst isn't really cathartic for me, and definitely not angst without a happy ending, and I certainly do NOT want to see characters who were a comfort to me previously (because PLA and the fandom took that from me and others) experiencing some of the worst life has to offer. If I want to see suffering, I can turn on the TV, or in some cases, go outside.
And there's a few artists whose work I never want to see again. I've quietly blocked them, but tumblr does not prevent me from seeing their art reblogged by other people on their blogs. So when I go to see if I want to follow or not and end up seeing users I've blocked, well, it's unpleasant. I wish tumblr's system was a bit better about this.
But this is my little space on the internet, and my space is always valuable to me and I'm always cautious who I let in. I don't have space for things here that I don't want to engage with.
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🌟 Diva's NSFW Alphabet
CW: sex, just sex talk
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Diva is very sleepy and cuddly after and she enjoys snuggling up to her partner for comfort and warmth. She also loves peppering kisses all over her s/o's face and body, arms wrapped around them, and whispering sweet things into their ear.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Hers: Diva loves her hips, the way her hips slightly dip and how full it is, one of her best defining features besides her eyes.
Yours: Your cheeks, she loves how soft they feel when she places a kiss on it, and how it fits nicely in her hands when she cups your face. Seeing the way they rise when you smile or puff out when you're upset.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Diva's cum tastes slightly salty, and the texture isn't too thick. Besides the taste and feel of it, Diva loves cum on her, her favorite part is the warm gooey feeling when it hits her body.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Although her fantasies are rather normal, one of them standing out is how she fantasizes over having sex 24/7 (high libido). Like non-stop sex where ever whenever.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Very experienced considering she's slept with plenty of people. I'd say she knows what she's doing and even if she doesn't, she's a fast learner.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style and sideways.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
She's a good mix between it, light hearted but still serious enough to keep the moment intimate and hot. If it was your first time, she wouldn't mind being more humorous if that eases your mind a lil more.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Well groomed AND the carpet matches the drapes. Diva trims down there once in a while to make sure it's not a lot, but also doesn't like the feeling of it bare.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Very sweet and loving. She wants to make sure you feel loved because whether just to fuck or in a relationship, it's not fun if you aren't feeling special or connected.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Jacks off quite a lot to help stimulate her libido. She owns a few dildos, and usually helps herself at night before bed.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere but prefers either car or bedroom.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Rolled up sleeves to the elbows, lingerie, foreplay, teasing/flirting.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Extreme violence on her s/o or herself (she's not opposed to small knife play, whipping, or any other impact play), noncon, doing it in dirty places
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers receiving but also likes giving! She's really good with her tongue and can fit up to 8inches in her mouth. Loves deep throating.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Diva can be as soft or as rough as you want her to be (unless she's feeling heated). She puts your comfort and pleasure on the top of her list, but she's also mindful of her own.
Although Diva prefers rough, but really appreciates the sensual too (especially in romantic relationships)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Doesn't mind it! If you gotta do it, do it <3 Just as long as you guys still get to have really intimate sex if you're in a relationship with her.
She enjoys quickies a lot and sees no reason to have any negative thoughts on it.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Down to experiments as long as it's nothing extreme or makes her or you seriously uncomfortable.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Normally? 5-7 rounds but if she's heated she can go almost all day.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Yes! She owns like 2 or 3 toys and uses them on herself. She isn't opposed to using toys on her partner, but only if they're not hers, she doesn't find sharing toys sanitary even if cleaned.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
LOVES to tease, one of her favorite hobbies tbh, but careful with teasing her. Diva can go from pouty to on top and in control in a blink of an eye (she gets a lil hungry sorry)
Diva LOVES edging, especially when her partner makes cute noises and faces. Something about you squirming gets her going.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Depends on the situation but ultimately she's loud. A lot of the sounds coming out of her are moans and babbles and even when she has to or tries to be quiet it's really hard for her to. Not to mention she likes to praise her partner if she's topping.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
She's a gamer girl, so if you enjoy gaming, she's going to support you under the desk. Diva would also like it if you do the same <3
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
B cup breasts, with puffy blush pink nipples. Down below is a darker shade of pink outie vagina. She has two star tattoos, one on each side of her hips (matching Eddie's shoulders) and a few scars trailing down her back.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. Diva is a very sex positive person, and indulges a lot in sexual play, whether with herself or someone else. But despite being a high sex drive person, Diva isn't constantly having sex every day, she just wishes to </3
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends on the time or how long she's been going at in. Night time or going for round after round, Diva most likely will start to get sleepy and drift off fast asleep after a few kisses and cuddles.
Other than that, she'll be just a lil daze from the sex, but still awake and ready to do whatever you or she wants to do next.
#i never proofread my stuff so im so sorry if its ass#hot killer babes ⭐️#hot killer babes vn#💗xoxodiva#💗spicycontent#silkbab3y#Spotify
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The Ghosts of Melbrew
Book 1 of 12 in the Multimagical Series by Lillian R.S.
Emeline Orman was sixteen when she and her parents moved across the country to the coastline of Washington state. A small town known as Melbrew sat comfortably in the middle of thick woods, so tiny and unknown that it doesn't show up on any maps, making it the perfect spot for malicious activity to go unnoticed.
On her first day of school, she met some rather weird people, who all shared a strange similar interest. This little group had quite the reputation for their knowledge of the town's not-so-secret dark history... as well as all of the unusual things that have been reported to them. It all started with the rich Humphrey family tragedy back in the 1800s, where for years it has been speculated that the mother killed her husband and children.
Being very eager to get to the bottom of all the town's mysteries, one thing leads to another as discovery after discovery begins to pile up, ranging from random holes in the ground, to suspicious buildings in the middle of the woods. Secret doors, tunnels, and books that talk about nonsense seem like they lead nowhere, with no connections!
Though perhaps the most mysterious oddity of them all is the otherworldly gateway surrounded by old fences, tied back to the founding family.
CW: Strong language, murder, and descriptions of gore
34 Total Chapters!
Total Word Count: 142,450
For more information on the Multimagical Series, check my pinned post!
Chapter 1 - "Welcome to Melbrew"
6,025 words
My wattpad / main: @lillianrs
Friendly criticism is welcome for future reference!
Continue reading below the cut, and enjoy! <3
●●●
It's a dark evening as I begin writing this book. A night where the trees creak outside my windows, with harsh, howling winds in the forlorn wilderness. I'm not sure what finally possessed me to tell this story after all this time, but one thing I've learnt is that you should always trust your gut. So, I'm going where the keys take me, as I trace through my memories.
It began back when I was only sixteen. So young, so unprepared, so naive, almost innocent. Nothing could've possibly warned me for the journey that lie ahead, for the things I've seen and the places I'd been. For then, in only my teens, my life changed in more ways than I could've ever imagined. I wasn't prepared to have my reality turned on its head, I wasn't prepared to see the truth, and I most certainly wasn't prepared to see the things that were not meant to be.
I've stayed in this town my whole life. I've seen faces come and go, and am good friends with the ones who've stayed. This place is different than it once was, but it still has some traces of its cursed past, though now faded from time. Somedays it feels strong, like I can feel it through the roots in the Earth. Yet other times it feels distant, and unwilling to show.
I've experienced a lot in my life, yet nothing has ever compared to the things that I had seen at the young age of seventeen. No one ever believed me, believed us. We never maintained solid proof, all of our camera evidence was destroyed during the ritual, but us seven know the truth... well, us seven, and the others silently involved who now refuse to acknowledge it. But those are all faces who have gone, to where, I'm not sure.
So, I suppose I'm here now, the next Robert J. Wright, the next Lord Lutho, the next Jane Howell who will become a mere conspiracy in the darkest corners of a library, waiting to be discovered, and inspire the next generation of those who seek the truth. I work at the school now as the librarian, and I take responsibility in preserving the stories here. Though I feel that now in my present, the whispering warnings we've heard long ago are to soon reign true... I just hope that the message can reach others, before it's too late. There's only so much we can do.
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My parents and I had to move across the country when I was sixteen years old. They are both photographers, and had gotten a job offer from a studio in Metalwood City. This studio in particular wanted them to focus on photographing both rural and urban life for usage in magazines and websites. Though we couldn't do this where we had previously lived, as the job specifically required the photos to come from the state of Washington. It had a much better pay than their previous job, and my parents were up for a change of pace, so they took them up on the offer.
Metalwood was a short 40 minute drive from a small rural town called Melbrew. Living there was extremely cheap, and my parents figured that they could run between the town and city for their pictures. Unfortunately, they were unaware that cheap living often comes with a different type of price to pay.
This town was founded by two brothers with the last name Melbrew, of course. It lay near the west coast of Washington state, with only a fifteen minute drive to the Pacific ocean. It was kind of in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by lakes and forest on all sides. That was the extent of my knowledge at the time of moving. I wondered if it would even be worth it to live there, but that decision wasn't mine to make. I never got to have a say in much.
My parents had sprung the moving announcement on me out of nowhere, leaving me with only a few weeks left before the move, the process started immediately. I was mad and upset, but I knew that there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I had to suck it up and go along with it, however sad it may have been. It was hard.
I enjoyed the last few weeks with my friends the best I could, however good it would be to say a final goodbye to people you would probably never see again. We all promised to stay in touch, but does anyone really? I'll move on and make new friends, and they'll soon forget about me, only to be brought up occasionally with a "Hey, remember Emmy?". It's not sad, it's just realistic. But sticking to the positives, they weren't really the best of friends anyways.
My last day was depressing, but also quite terrifying, considering I would be moving all the way from western Pennsylvania to the state of Washington. That was on the complete other side of the country!
My nerves those final few days were dreadful, I remember them all vividly. The rapid heartbeat, the feeling of leaving everything I've ever known behind... It felt like a clock was ticking down to my death and rebirth. In a way I felt I was dying, as overly dramatic as that sounds. I would be leaving everything and starting again, but as scary as the thought was, it also excited me. The death was the hard part, the afterlife is the easy one.
It took us a about a week to get there, as we had to drive the whole way, but I'm not going to get into the whole moving process as it isn't important. Lots and lots of feilds out in the rural parts of America. Day after day, hotel after hotel. It was almost surreal and creepy, especially at night. A part of me almost wished we had stayed in some sketchy motel that's the only thing on a stretch of road. Now that's where the fun is!
I sighed a breath of relief when I was finally told that we were almost there. Slowly the wheat feilds turned to forests and trees, that's all there was, just trees. After a few minutes a giant wooden sign appeared, reading, "Welcome to Melbrew". The letters were faded and it was hard to read, but still ledgebale nonetheless.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned off my music as curiosity took its hold on me. Rolling down my window, I stuck my head outside and let the wind and rain hit my face. The smell of water and pine was strong in the air, and the town was rather grey. The clouds in the sky paired with the looming trees blocked quite a bit of sunlight, it was rather gloomy.
The forest was now less dense as houses stood next to each other, all with their own areas, lawns, and garages, decently spaced apart from each other. Before I knew it, we were pulling into a driveway. With the car now in park and silent, raindrops could be heard pounding against the roof. Of course now is when it begins to pick up and pour!
It rained for a full two days after we got there, which made moving in much harder than it already was going to be. We didn't have very much stuff though, as taking too much across the country wouldn't be easy. Nevertheless, I was in love with the scenery. All the trees, the rain, the near darkness in midday. It was very cozy, to me, at least.
My cat was definitely not happy with the car ride, so I'm sure the old senior boy was glad to be out of his carrying cage. His name was Sir. Bennington the Fifth... there were no other Benningtons. Child me just thought it was funny. Nowadays I call him Benny.
The house that I would now have to call home was of a decent size and stood on a corner street. Its outer panels were beginning to peel, and vegetation coated the lawn with various plants and grasses. When the rain died down afternoon had turned to evening, and the sound of birds, owls, and crickets filled the misty darkened air.
There was a humble little farm across the road from us, and a few other houses nearby. Other than that, it was pretty vacant, lying near the northern outskirts of the town by wooded area, though the whole town was surrounded by woods, so it's not that special a detail. It felt very secluded.
I wished we could've moved before the school year started, but I guess I'm also glad it was early on in the year instead of later. I tried to look on the positive side, instead of being pessimistic once I got there and had to confront this new life. There was no point in being sad about something I couldn't change, as much as I wanted to be. I got my sadness out the weeks before, now it was time to move on. Is it toxic positivity? Maybe. I'll get over it.
That first night felt so... different. I'm not sure how to describe it. The sound of the rain falling on the roof, the wind outside, the eerie quietness of everything else. My practically empty room with nothing but a bed and a box of clothes. The yellow lighting and old-fashioned floral wallpaper, paired with the old, dusty wooden floors that would creak beneath your feet. That smell of dirt, and the ticking of an ancient clock that was left behind. It all made me feel stuck in time.
It was very difficult for me to fall asleep. New environments paired with the fear of going to a different school kept me tossing and turning all night. I feel that Benny could sense my discomfort, as he nudged my door open to come sit on my chest. It was only then that my mind felt enough at ease to drift off to the realm of dreams.
My parents walked me to school on my first day to make sure that I didn't get lost and knew the way. The town is very small and half of it seemed to be abandoned, so I didn't see a need for it, but hey, whatever makes them happy. Once the school was in sight, though, they backed off and waved me goodbye.
The school was on the other side of the town from me to the south, so it was quite a long walk, about half an hour. The elementary and middle school were separate, but kept in the same general area. They were all brick buildings under the cloudy, grey morning sky that only just then began to brighten. The American flag waved in the wind, the eerie quietness absorbing me once more.
It wasn't all that grand, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It looked rather decrepit and run down, but not to the point where it looked horrid and grossly unsanitary. Well, I mean, there were a few broken windows boarded up, and vines and grass growing up the sides, but it wasn't, like, dirty.
Really, I doubt anyone around here even notices the appearance, but my fresh new eyes did. Though despite the vintage look that the town carried, I could still tell that it used to be rather well-kept, even though some areas even looked abandoned nowadays. There was a history to this place, I could just feel it. It was in the air, and on the scars the buildings carried. The stories they could tell...
I pushed on the double glass doors of the highschool, which were smudged and slightly stained with dirt. They closed behind me in an echoed click, seemingly sealing the outside world away as the sound of wind was left behind me. The main entrance wasn't very spacious, unlike my last school. It made me feel a little confined and claustrophobic, but I was sure I'd get used to it. I was sure I'd get used to everything, though maybe that was still my want to be positive talking.
The door to my left had a sign reading, "Main Office'', and the door to my right had a sign that read, "Guidance Office", which were both carved into golden plates that now looked brown. Okay, good to know. That was all that was in the entrance hallway.
I wiped my feet on the entrance mat and made my way to the hallway, though my shoes still squeaked against the tiles. On the wall was a little red sign with directions, which I followed to my homeroom, which would be to my right. The voices of fellow students began to fill my ears, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I began to feel anxious.
"Hello, Emeline!" My teacher said as he saw me enter the classroom. I walked over to him and we shook hands. "Welcome to Melbrew High School! I'm Mr. Brown, and I'll be both your homeroom and algebra teacher. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask me or one of the other staff members."
I thanked him and he told me where to sit, so I took my seat, and sat quite awkwardly. My bookbag sat next to me on the floor, my phone gripped tightly in my hands. People continuously glanced over to me, I tried my best to ignore them. The whole place felt off.
Not just off, though, it was straight up oldschool. The whole town was. There were no smart boards, nor overhead projectors. Just an old, green chalkboard. The lighting was also pretty dim and more... yellow? Yellow seems to be a favorable lighting choice here, I suppose. I obviously assumed that the budget was pretty low, as I haven't seen just a chalkboard in the class since I was in the third grade.
As I waited in my seat, I looked around the room to the other students, who thankfully stopped starting at me. Two came up to greet me for a few seconds, but the rest either paid me no mind or just looked over to me. Some gave off weird, creepy vibes with their stares. I felt really out of place, it was kinda giving me impostor syndrome, to be honest. I felt like I shouldn't be there. Just the feeling of being the new kid, I guess.
I began to get lost in my thoughts, staring into the abyss. That is until I jumped out of them due the unnecessarily loud overhead speakers. We all stood to say the pledge, then the announcements began, spoken by an upbeat girl, which seemed almost humorous to me given the boring scenery... well, either humorous or creepy, but you can be the judge of that.
"Good morning, Melbrew students! Today is Monday, September 26th, 2016! For lunch today, the cafeteria will be serving spaghetti, tomorrow will be taco Tuesday! The breakfast for tomorrow will be pancakes! If you are going on Ms. Hogg's field trip this spring, your permission slips are due before Christmas break! There are still a few spots open for the book and biology clubs, so hurry and claim your spot fast before it's too late! Speaking of clubs, sign ups for the brand-new history club will be on Thursday, and they will meet every other week! Have a great day, Melbrew!"
The announcements cut off and students resumed chatting with one another as we waited for the bell to dismiss us to first period. When it finally did, I stayed seated for geometry, while everyone else left. I didn't like the looks people gave me as people walked in for first period. Definitely felt like an invader. God, I was so out of place.
Once geometry was over, I had to head to my second class, which was a study hall. I wasn't exactly sure where it was, though. It's easy to get lost in a place where every hallway looks the exact same. Everyone fled out of the classroom, except for me and one other student who was taking his time to leave. I guess I'll just go ask him.
I approached the student, "Hello! I'm new to this school. Would you mind directing me to the library?" I asked as politely as I could.
He paused what he was doing for a few seconds and looked up at me, before shaking his head and continuing on with what he was doing. He zipped up his backpack, stood up, and answered, "I'm going there. Just follow me."
He spoke in a monotone, nonchalant voice. He said nothing else, and threw his bag over his shoulder as he walked out of the classroom, not even waiting for me. I hurried to follow him, feeling a bit awkward at his lack of acknowledgement.
He was Asian with dark hair and lighter skin, though his face looked tired as bags sat under his eyes. He wore an old, grey baseball team hoodie that was now stained with mud, and had a hole on the sleeve. His backpack looked like it was being held together by ductape alone.
I attempted to make conversation, "Um. My name is Emeline Orman, do you mind me asking yours?"
He didn't say or do anything at first, as he seemingly ignored me. Thankfully for my own self-assurance he eventually shrugged slightly and said, quietly, in the same toneless voice, "Kai."
I observed the hallways a bit as we walked, which all had the same beige colored tiles lining the walls. This school's color palette definitely wasn't the prettiest sight for sore eyes, but then again it could always be worse. Gotta remember that optimism, look on the brightside. The brightside being that I felt like I was in a mystery novel, so I'll take it! The buzzing lights and lack of people definitely added a whole layer to the ambiance.
When we got to the library, he walked off and sat down at a table in one of the more hidden sections of the place, tucked behind some bookshelves near a corner. He immediately pulled out an extremely old looking book from his bag.
"What are you reading?" I asked curiously, but he just looked up at me, said nothing, and looked back down. I waited to see if he would say anything, but he didn't. "...Am I bothering you?"
"Yes." he said, matter-of-factly, without taking his eyes off the book. He rested his head lazily against his hand.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it." I said, and walked away. I decided to go and look around, I really didn't want to upset people on my first day, that's a good way to make enemies and I was not looking for that, especially in a place that looks like a good setting for a horror movie. Next thing you know you'll be choked to death by a vampire, or something weird like that.
It wasn't a really big library, but it did have a whole lot of stuff in it. Lots of bookshelves, tables, and doors leading to I don't know where. There were even a few computers, and that's saying something! Usually libraries have all sorts of them, but here there's only four, as it seemed. In a place that doesn't have smartboards, I consider it impressive. They were all already in use, three doing work, while another pulled up games.
I spotted a little hallway near the back between some bookcases, and decided to check it out. It led to another room, with more tables, and a door with a sign saying STAFF ONLY. Standing against a wall was a large, moveable whiteboard on wheels. There were all kinds of papers on it, held down by magnets. Written in blue marker was a list of clubs, and what days they will meet. I read down the list, and then jumped a little when a teacher approached me unexpectedly.
"Hello dear, I don't believe I've seen you before, are you that new girl? The Ormans?" The teacher asked as she entered the room. She looked like your classic, stereotypical librarian lady. She had glasses, her hair was in a bun, but she didn't look to be too old.
"Oh, uh, yeah, that's me. I'm Emeline Orman." I said, and held out my hand to shake hers.
"Well, Emily, I'm the school's librarian, Mrs. Robinson." She said, and looked to the club sheet I was just checking out, "Are you interested in any clubs? We hold most of the meetings here in this room. It's a good way to meet some new friends!"
"I might be." I said, shrugging. "What do the different clubs do?"
"Well, most of them are already full, but we're offering sign-ups for a new club, as you probably heard on the announcements, if you paid attention, that is." She said and chuckled, "Most kids don't. The history club is brand new and just starting out, but there are also a few spots still open for the book club. It's what you would imagine, we give you a book, and you read it, and talk about it with your peers. There's also the biology club, I believe there's quite a few spots still open for that one, if you're interested. Ms. Hogg runs that one. She does lots of expeditions in the woods to look for little critters."
"Hm. Do you know what they'll be doing in the history club?" I asked.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure just yet. This year is the first it'll be up. If I had to guess though, probably various activities involving history, I think specifically on the town. I manage the book club, but if you're interested in town history I would ask Mr. Marshall about it when you can. He's room 105."
"Alright, will do. Thank you, Mrs. Robinson."
"Anytime, love. If you ever have any questions, you can always find me here."
I walked back out into the main part of the library and decided to look around a bit to get familiar with the layout of the place, and maybe look at a book or two. After getting bored of it, I went back to the little room with the whiteboard and sat at one of the white plastic tables that were lined against the walls. There was no one back there, so it made me feel more comfortable.
The time dragged on since I had nothing to do, and I was actually happy when the bell rang for third period. It was time to go to English, which I had to find on my own. Luckily the English hallway was near the library, and all someone had to do was point down the hall. I stepped inside and greeted my teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and she showed me to my seat. Once English was over, I headed to my fourth period class, which was History. I went in and greeted Mr. Marshall. Once the period ended and the bell rang, I decided to ask him about the club.
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Marshall? May I ask you about the history club?" I asked. "I heard about it on the announcements this morning, and I think that I might be interested in it."
He looked a bit surprised, and turned to a kid walking out the door, "Dominik," he said, "Where are you heading?"
"Computer, sir." He answered.
"Tell Emeline here a bit about the history club. I think you'll be better at it."
"Sure thing!" He said, and nodded his head out the door for me to follow.
"Why couldn't he just tell me about it himself?" I asked once we were out of the class.
"Well, you asked him at the end of the period, and it would take a while to explain. Plus, you're obviously new and I think that he thinks that this is the perfect way for you to make friends," he stopped in the middle of the empty hallway, and stuck out his hand, "My name's Dominik, but you already knew that, because he kinda said my name, but whatever. If you'd like new information on the name though it's Dominik with a K."
I shook his hand, "Emeline, but you already knew that, too."
We continued walking, "Did all your teachers introduce you today? I wouldn't doubt if people start calling you Emily, if they haven't already, I've never heard of Emeline. That's like Emily but with extra steps... no offense."
"None taken. My parents just wanted to be different, but if it helps, you can just call me Emmy. Or Emma, or Em, or even Emily, really. They're all the same thing. Though usually I go by Emmy. Cute childhood nickname that just kinda stuck."
"Well then, Emmy, allow me to give you a run down." He said, "First of all, NEVER drink from the water fountains after Douglass Bailey has touched them. Just- trust me on that. Secondly, there's a crap ton of weird stuff around here so don't freak out over something strange, it's probably normal. Oh, and third of all, you should DEFINITELY stay away from the northwest side of town. The abandoned part with the park, and the mountains, and the cemetery, and all that. That's practically begging for trouble."
"Well, that's good to know, I guess. Why is the northwest bad?"
"Oh, you'll see. Or more so hear. It's impossible not to. We are definitely going to be late for class, but that's okay. Not to brag or anything, but most of the teachers love me. How about my friend and I tell you a little bit about the club at lunch? The history in this place is... well, interesting, to say the least to a new comer." He said as we approached the class.
"Dominik, you're late!" The teacher said as he walked in the class, but he didn't sound angry at all.
"I was helping out the new girl Emeline, Mr. Adams. Sorry about that."
"No problem, take your seats, and Emily, find a free one."
Dominik whispered towards me, "told you." I smiled a bit.
A kid with bright green hair started excitedly slapping an empty seat next to them, and Dominik gestured to it with his hand. I sat in it.
"Who she?" The green-haired kid asked.
"A new girl who is interested in the history club," Dominik answered.
"Oh! That's fun, a newbie. I've always wanted to teach a newbie!" They said, and turned to me. "Hi, I'm Cameron! And despite what people may tell you, I am in fact a boy. Actually, I'm just straight up feral. I'm a menace to society. A man in the shadows. An enigma. Cameron Payne Johnson, certified local cryptid freak and proud!"
"Oh, well, it's... nice to meet you? I think?"
I looked between the both of them, and I wondered how they could look like they have completely different interests, yet be friends who apparently have common ground.
Dominik looked like your typical smart person. He was decently tall, and had dark, curly hair that was pulled up into a little bun. A few short curls were falling down into his face, which he pushed back with his hand, then adjusted his glasses. He was black, but more on the lighter side. He was well-dressed, and wore a long beige lab coat over a dark red turtleneck sweater. He looked like the type of kid who would remind the teacher we had homework.
Cameron on the other hand was short, and had naturally brown hair. Half of his head was shaved, and the part that wasn't shaved was dyed an obnoxiously bright neon green that felt like an assault to the eyes. He wore a black hoodie tied around his waist, and had ripped, black, skinny jeans. His shoes were dirty, old-looking converse. He worse a black T-shirt with a skull on the front, the black clothes contrasted his pale skin. He looked like a mix of punk and emo, and his nails were painted both black and green.
Mr. Adams began teaching. Towards the end of the period, everyone began to chat again, "Did all of this school's budget go into this room, or what?" I asked.
"Dude I don't know, man." Cameron responded, "I always see vids from other people and they've got like fancy tech boards and shit. Meanwhile I'm out here like what the fuck is a smartboard? And apparently libraries are supposed to have like, 30 computers in them? Fucking foreign, dude. These are like, our only computers. I have a theory that the principle is hording money."
"It is way too early to start on your conspiracies, Cam." Dominik said.
When the bell rang, class ended, and the three of us headed to the cafeteria together, as we three all had lunch 6th period. They took their packed lunches and sat down at a table, and I went up in line. Once I had my food, I took my tray and went to sit by the pair I just met.
"Yo, I really wouldn't eat that," Cameron said, "That shit's prolly poisoned or sumthin." Dominik lightly smacked the back of his head.
"Don't scare her, Cam!" He turned to me, "The food is just a little weird, and he's also like actually insane, so don't listen to him."
"Oh, please. I'm not insane, I'm just eager for unexplainable shit to be real... and also the food is just one of the minor conspiracies about this place, and the poison is also just one version!"
"Just let her eat in peace for her first day, she just got here! You can start on your rants tomorrow." He turned to me and whispered, "Though I definitely would advise to pack your lunch for the rest of your time here."
"Um, okay," I said, laughing nervously. I then changed the subject, "So, about the history club..."
"Oh, the history club," Cameron said, leaning back a little bit, his hands resting behind his head, and his legs intertwined with the poles under the table so he doesn't fall backwards, "whaddya wanna know 'bout it?"
"Well, what will you be doing in it?"
"Well, the question is," he said dramatically, leaning forward. He then slapped his hands on the table, "can we trust you?"
"What? Why?"
"It isn't just a history club, Mr. Marshall is just as interested in the weird stuff going on around here as we are. So, can we trust you with the secret of keeping the clubs activities classified?"
"Of course, my life's boring, this sounds interesting." I said. Cameron narrowed his eyes at me.
Dominik looked at Cameron, and signaled him to go on. "Keep it to a minimum, Cam, we don't wanna spill too much. Though chill out on the drama, man, it's just town history."
"Oh, it's more than town history, Dominik!" Cameron exclaimed, "Okay, so, Mr. Marshall told us that he convinced the school that it'll be a club about, well, history, but, actually, we're gonna be divin' into the conspiracy theories of this place. He's a relatively young teacher, about in his 20s or some shit. He said he got an interest in all this because his grandfather knew the Humphrey family, you'll learn about them... If you join."
"...Sooo, the school thinks it's just going to be about the town's history, but it's for town-centered theories?" I asked.
"Yup! But there's evidence, oh believe me, there's evidence! It's just not widespread enough. Most people don't even know about the murders. Not to freak you out or anything. It was a long time ago."
We went on to eat our lunch, having casual conversation... as casual as a conversation can get when someone like Cameron is leading it. Afterwards I was headed to my 7th period class, which was my language class. Soon before the bell rang to start class, a short, bored-looking asian girl walked in. She had to have been about the ages of twelve to thirteen, but visually appeared to be younger. She had bangs and two ponytails on the sides of her head, tied with blue bows.
She slammed her books down on my desk, "Get out of my seat or I'll throw hands, freckle face."
"Kimora!" The teacher said, coming into the class, "We will not be 'throwing hands' and calling names in this class. Emeline, could you please pick a different desk? Kimi came in late today, and she's very picky about her seat."
"Oh, of course," I said, and she greeted me. Her name was Madame Martian. I went and took a different seat, and went on with the class. Kimi was apparently a smart middle schooler who got to come to the high school for language class.
Finally it was time for my last classes of the day. My 8th period class was gym on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I had another period of my science class, which was my 9th and last class of the day.
Since today was Monday, I had gym. We played badminton, which was fun. That fun didn't last for long though, as nothing could've ever prepared me for my biology class. Not the eeriness, nor the rumors or weird conspiracies. It was the final slice of my introductory cake of what I was about to be subjected to for the rest of the year.
It was a classroom near the back of the school, and the walk there felt kind of... off. But it was a different kind of off than the off everything else was. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it seemed as if all the other rooms in that hallway were unused. To the left, there was one final hall of doors, and it led to a dead end. At the end of the main hallway I was walking down, there was a pair of doors leading to an outside parking lot. Towards the end of the hall, I headed into the room on the right.
There I was faced with an odd looking classroom, older than the others. As if the other rooms had touch ups done over the years but this one didn't. I noticed immediately that this was the class that had that one boarded-up window I spotted that morning.
Unlike my other teachers, Ms. Hogg didn't come and greet me, and didn't really look too inviting on me greeting her, so I kept to myself. I sat down in a free seat, feeling very uncomfortable, even more so than before. The worst it had been all day. God, I could've puked. It was so off that it became physical, sickening.
Ms. Hogg had a vibe to her, and not a good one. She looked both old and young at the same time, and gave me the impression that's she's killed someone before, but I have no idea why. It felt very strange, I was deeply unsettled by that teacher, she gave me a bad feeling in my gut, right down to her voice and physique.
During class she talked about the anatomy of different animals, and briefly mentioned a project that we'll be starting tomorrow. This was a very biological focused biology class. I thought we were going to be learning about DNA or whatever, but okay, sure.
I left the class feeling uneasy, and totally ready to leave that damn building and go back to my house. I was caught off guard and startled when I was suddenly pushed to the cold ground.
"Move out of the way!" A tall blonde girl from my class yelled in a mean tone, "You should pick up the pace next time, I don't like to be slowed down!" She stomped away, laughing with two friends as her heeled shoes clicked against the ground, echoing throughout the confined halls.
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