#feels like I lost a whole month because I spent most of its days in bed
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So I have not been succeeding a ton on my plan to get back into writing this month…
#tries to fall asleep#fails#briefly nods off then has the most awful graphic nightmare#stays awake for two more hours just to not have nightmares#finally falls asleep at 6am out of sheer exhaustion#wakes up every forty minutes or so#feels simultaneously unable to sleep but also too tired to get up#gets up because it is time for work#feels like I lost a whole month because I spent most of its days in bed#people who suffer insomnia permanently!!! you are incredible and I see you <3#this sucks and I have no idea how you live with it all the time#hope it goes away soonnnnnn#(this post is mostly just an explanation for why I didnt write those fics I said I would write (whoops)#but honestly it turned into a ramble im too tired to edit at this point#not to cause any alarm or anything though! I will be okay :)#I plan to sleep So Hard this weekend hehehe
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haunted
emily, one of your close friends in the bau, comes back and after months of crying over her death you're not sure how to feel. it hurts the most when the deception also comes from aaron, the man you've loved for so long
a/n: idk how i feel about it. it's very rushed because half of it was deleted and i couldn't be bothered to go back and rewrite it properly.
aaron hottie angst again because his pain is so beautifully upsetting. kinda long so enjoy 🤍
part 2 :)
"everybody, have a seat" aaron's voice is more tense than usual, as if he was about to announce some bad news. your heart races but you walked in, grabbing a seat next to morgan. jj stands beside hotch and she looks almost worried, toying with her fingers. your brows knitted in confusion, wondering what was so urgent
"why, what's going on? everything all right?" spencer asked, his brow raised.
"seven months ago, i made a decision that affected this team. as you all know, emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with doyle," hotch began
"but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from boston to bethesda under covert exfiltration. her identity was strictly need-to-know. and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. she was reassigned to paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security" he finishes but there's pin drop silence in return. his arms had folded over awaiting a response but everyone was shocked to say a thing
your heart feels like it's plummeted at the bottom of the earth, the breath completely knocked out from your lungs. you hope someone announces its a big joke but hotch looks at all of you expectantly. jj has her head slightly bowed, unable to make any eye contact and its then you realise she knew all along.
"she's alive?" you didn't even think you said it out loud but aaron looks at you, his brows in a tight frown. you see the truth spilled on his face and it stings immensely knowing how he saw you in your vulnerable moments and still decided not to say a thing
he knew all along
"but we buried her" someone else says but at that point you completely blank out, sinking further in your seat. hoping the ground would swallow you whole and remove the burden crushing your heart.
"as i said, i take full responsibility for the decision. if anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me" aaron looks at you again but you don't bother looking in his direction.
all those times, every single tear, every second of sadness, all of it was.... fake?
"any issues?? yeah, i got issues-" morgan started, standing up towards hotch. but he doesn't go far for garcia speaks again. her eyes are brimmed with tears, walking quickly towards the door
"oh, my god" and you turn, unable to register the vision in front of you
"i am so sorry, i really am. not a day went by that i didn't want to...really, i... you didn't deserve that and i'm so sorry" the voice you thought you'd never hear again in this lifetime spoke. there she genuinely was, in the living breathing flesh. garcia grabs her in a hug and they share a tearful laugh about something you can't hear.
"there is so much i want to tell you guys and-and i will, i promise" the woman you spent crying in private about for weeks was now alive, like nothing had even happened.
garcia embraces her tight again and jj, morgan, rossi and reid followed suit.
it doesn't comprehend there she genuinely was, actually physically standing there. so many emotions had run through you, unclear of which one it was. all you can think about was her in your arms actively dying and you crying as you screamed for medics to come.
so you remained silent, while everyone had hugged her you stood just looking. unsure of what to feel, unsure over how to act. it felt foreign and you get lost in the reality of the situation, not realising she had made her way towards you
"y/n..." emily walked closer a smile on her lips but you couldn't reciprocate it. how could she so... nonchalanant about everything? those nights you spent crying, the nights your heart had felt so hollow in your chest, all of that burned in your mind.
the anguish, the pain, the guilt, all of it was an illusion.
and aaron, the man with whom you had trusted with your whole life glanced at you through the corner. he doesn't know what to say, what could be said? unintentionally he had lied to you, comforted you through pain that didn't even exist. he saw you vulnerable after her death, he was the one that pieced you back. and now it felt like all the parts he held together were coming undone.
"emily" you nod, a tight lipped smile on yours. even just being in her presence is enough to tip you over the edge so you distract yourself, holding the file. how strange, a mere seven months ago you two were the closest of friends.
and now you barely even knew her
"i-" she opens her arms slightly to embrace you but you open your hands to give her the information. touching her felt too soon, you needed some time to think.
"this is the file with doyle and everything going on with the kid. we don't have time to spare" you nod, quickly hand it to her and walk straight for the coffee. it wasn't caffeine that was going to help you tonight but it didn't hurt to try
•••
"hey..." morgan finds you staring blankly at the wall with the pictures, trying to find the next step in the kidnapping. and no matter how much you tried to regain your composure, it cracked piece by piece. exposing your facade and your true feelings behind the matter.
you were determined to keep a straight front for your team but every time you saw emily and jj and especially hotch, it felt like a challenge you weren't sure you'd win
"hey" you continue to take through the information, trying to piece the murder but there's so much on your mind it all feels like its vanishing in the air. like nothing is registering in your brain.
"hey" jj comes in and you stiffen up, quickly catching some files and exiting the room. she calls your name but you simply walk straight for the hallway. true, it was a childish thing to do but you couldn't look at any of them without the overwhelming urge to break down.
aaron, however, catches you in the hallway and you step back not wanting to even touch him, unable to look at his deceiting face.
"i know what you've been through. i understand that you're angry but i hope that you understand that this is not about you or me. this was about saving emily" his tone is sharp, firm but you see the hurricane of emotions in his eyes.
the most dominant being sorrow. but that wasn't enough for you, you almost wanted him to experience the pain you'd felt.
"why do you care about what i think hotch? it never mattered before, evidently" you match his tone in return, trying to go about him.
"y/n i know you're disappointed how we handled emily but it wasn't in our control, we couldn't say anything" he stops you and you don't even want to look at him, he knew how hard it had been on you. and he still didn't breathe a word of her survival.
"you couldn't or you wouldn't?? don't pretend to care what i've been through hotch. i came to you crying for weeks on end and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth. not fucking once. what did you expect? i'd hug prentiss and all would be well? give me a break" you scoffed, pulling away from him. he stood stunned for a moment, his brows scrunched in a confused frown
"i know and i understand-" "i don't think you do. we have a kid that's about to die hotch, now is not the time" you utter, glaring as you walked by him.
•••
the plane ride was silent, moreso than usual. you noticed the glances your team was giving you but as long as the job was done efficiently, there wasn't really anything to say, you'd talk on your own time. just you and your book was enough for now.
all that was interrupted when a voice cut in. a voice you thought you weren't ready to hear just yet
"declan is little shaken up but the doctor said he'll be fine" she smiled at you, eyes looking at you but you refused to make any contact
"good. we got there in time" you commented, turning the page.
"yes..." she taps her fingers on the table, unsure on how to continue the conversation. part of you hopes she walks away, not ready to listen to her just yet.
"well we're going to rossi's tomorrow night. i want to see if he really can cook. are you coming?" she asked hopefully, a small smile on her lips
"i don't know, i'm not so sure i can make it" you leaned your elbow on the armrest, continuing to read the same sentence until she left.
"look, l/n, i know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and... i understand that. but i promise you, we had no choice" she begins and she sighs a little before looking directly at you.
"you mourned one friend, i mourned seven" she chuckled lightly, trying to make you see from her perspective. but you couldn't, the betrayal rang far too loudly in your ears.
his especially
"it's not a competition emily" you put your book down, directly looking at her eyes. everything you had been bursting to say left your lips before you could even comprehend it.
"you didn't carry my coffin, you didn't cry over someone that was presumably dead. do you know how many times i was angry at myself for not doing more? i kept replaying that moment when i held you, near enough lifeless and completely covered in blood. and all i could do was beg you to breathe and stay with me. you didn't take medications because every time you closed your damn eyes, all you could see was your dead friend in her own blood did you? don't pretend we're the same emily, you have no idea what i went through" with every word, you could feel the anger boiling deep inside of you. the annoyance coursing through your veins like wildfire.
"you could've given us a hint, a sign, anything to indicate proof of life. but i had to hold the pain over your death for months. so forgive me if i don't want to go through that again" your tone was sharp, picking up your book back to indicate the conversation was over
"y/n i'm sorry i-" she began softly but you shook your head
"look emily, i appreciate what you're trying to do. really. and i'm happy that you're back but i need time and space too. i can't do this job efficiently otherwise. so please..." you indicated for her to leave and she reluctantly stood up, wanting to say a million words. but none of them seemed quite correct
you hoped no one would come and try to talk, just wishing this plane ride would end quickly and you'd be in the safe sanctuary of your bedroom
and for once your wish is granted
•••
the precinct was empty, dark and cold. replicating how you felt on the inside.
your bag was in your office and you hoped everyone was gone, you couldn't handle seeing their faces.
it was hard, because on the one hand your friend was back. you wanted to rejoice, and hug her so tight but the way it all happened... it felt wrong.
"y/n" and there it is. the voice you definitely didn't want to hear tonight
"aaron" you reply in response, turning around to face him. he looks dishevelled, almost as if he had to run to catch you back here. on any other day before, it would've made you fawn over his adorableness but it didn't stir a thing in you now.
"i know what i did was inexcusable. i know you're hurt, i know it could've been handled better. i realise that but you have to understand that this wasn't my order. if you had known, it would've put you in a compromising position too" he comes close until he's standing a foot away. his eyes are aligt with an emotion you've never seen him use before, pleading
"i just can't get over it hotch. i'm so happy she's back and under different circumstances i would've celebrated it. but i can't because you lied to me. for months and months" you want to fall in to his arms, to forget about everything that had transpired tonight but it would solve nothing. so you stay where you are, the ache in your heart growing by the minute.
"and for that i deeply apologise" before, this would have solved your problems. but now it felt like the gasoline added to the fire.
"you don't care about me aaron and i'm fooling myself if i keep pretending that everything is okay"
"i do y/n, i just need time. i just-"
"how much time?? how much longer can i be expected to wait?? how much longer can i pretend that you actually care about me-"
"i do care!" "oh you do?? you watched me cry for months. does that sound like caring? and you never want to progress further in this. how can i be with someone who doesn't care? emily coming back was just the icing. you'd use anything and anyone to get what you want hotch. you don't care about anyone, much less me"
"is that what you think of me?" he whispers, eyes narrowing at you
"it's what i know of you. from the moment i met you to now. i thought it was fine at first. but i can't do it. do you have any idea how.... hard it is to love you?" every word was a dagger to his heart, twisting and twisting until it was difficult to breathe.
"i'm done. i need a break. from you, from the bau, from everyone" you let out a shaky sigh, hugging your bag closer to your body. the man before you was your lifeline and now it felt like you were drowning in the depths of him. the only way to save yourself would be to remove yourself from his grasp, to pretend that he, your lover, never existed. he was aaron hotchner, your boss. he would never be the man you were so desperately and hopelessly in love with.
"y/n please don't-"
"i'm taking my holidays. don't contact me, don't find me. i just really.... don't want to see you ever" with that you stormed out of the room, away from him and his presence. away from his beautiful face you came to adore, away from all the memories you would forever cherish until your last breath.
but no amount of miles between you both could ever be enough
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader angst#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fanfiction
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I don't know much about you as a person, but from what I can gather you've had a long journey with art, but still have the motivation to continue even when its rough. I'm sure you didn't start out making masterpieces, so if its not too much trouble, do you have any advice for a 16 year old artist losing motivation? i feel like im stagnating right now and its awful
Idk man, all I can say is, draw watchu want without the care who's gonna see it or what they gonna say , commit to new ideas and care less about pleasing everyone, because I know that way too well, I started learning by drawing animals, flowers and nature, "you should draw something else", switches to furries " No you must do human portraits", draws humans *no one fuckin cares*, and I felt miserable drawing what I didn't want all the damn time just trying to please everyone and be liked, hell, I still do that sometimes cuz I'm a dumbass. When in reality, when you do your own thing is when you're the happiest, this internet bullshit? Yeah don't trust the likes and favs, people like what they find relatable, no one really knows how much time you've spent on your drawing or how much you love it, when a 5 min doodle you did could do more than a painting that took 2 whole days to complete just to be scrapped in a new speedy record, paint what you love for yourself and you only.
Don't be shy to learn new things, I have tons of stuff I don't post here cuz I know people wouldn't care about it, but here for this post, have this that I practiced when I felt too depressed to think of anything good and wanted to step back from the MD artstyle
You'll see, you'll thrive when you draw what you want, and get yourself a drawing buddy! That way you'll stop focusing on the internet and more on each other, and each other's improvement. Tbh I struggled with that one. Since everyone I had were not into art irl, I somehow managed to find someone after 10 years of drawing alone. I honestly wanted more people to join in and make an improvement circle, but unfortunately that never happened.
I found myself twice as productive now than ever, even though I'm not active here as much I am still drawing and making things, ofc giving you more comics! And other fun things in the future I hope.
If you're struggling to draw something just do it, man commit, i was uncomfortable drawing men and male characters for years, I've wasted so many years being "too uncomfortable" and draw a naked person like yeesh who fucking cares, it's for studying.
And ofc if you feel like you're not improving at all please, please experiment with your artstyle and try something new, please refresh your mind, I was stuck for years doing the same thing over and over, same colors, same 2px brush, drawing like a machine same shit over and over, I felt so stuck and lost, but also afraid to do something new, idk why, I guess I never felt good enough or deserving of it. I also didn't go to art school, I am NOT a professional, nor will i ever be in my opinion. Hell, me feeling like I'll never be good enough left me afraid to try and apply for art school, they were asking for sculptures, different mediums all that scary stuff and I was like, I don't.. know.. how to do those things... I can't build a portfolio in less than 3 months?!?! I don't even know how to use half of what they're asking for!!
In reality at the end of the day, art is what you make of it and no one can stop you, search for inspirations and don't be afraid to try, yes you'll fail fist 2 or 10 or hell even 100 times, but you'll come back with more knowledge than ever.
For ending I give you the most confusing drawing to ever exist [dw he's just sleeping on top of her and she's just ghasping for air but awe romance or sum lol] is it weird? Yeah but I had a fun time making it hahaha
Idk I'm bad at putting my thoughts together, but hopefully some of this helps.
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(JTA) — It was a slow trickle, each long press of the finger and ensuing quick tap was days and sometimes weeks apart (it’s hard to comprehend that a whole month has passed since Oct. 7), but I am here to tell you that I — a former social media manager — have removed each and every social media app from my phone.
In fact, as I was writing this very esssay, I realized I still had Threads downloaded, opened it for a minute, saw a Thread that said “Zionism is antisemitism,” and promptly deleted that, too.
I have zero desire to restore a single one of them.
What happened to me has probably happened to you, too. I saw a Tweet, a TikTok, an Instagram Story that filled me with such fury and indignation that I spent hours — sometimes days — formulating and reformulating an epic, fact-based, emotionally charged, imagined response. Imagined, of course, because I knew I’d never post it. I’ve seen so many celebrities and random acquaintances do such utterly embarrassing and harmful and reputation-destroying things in the last weeks to even dare to try.
And to be clear: I would try if I thought I could change someone’s mind and force them to see my humanity, but beyond the small, intimate, personal conversations that I can have off the apps, I feel like these enraged indignant responses only seem to silo people further.
I’ve worked in social media since 2014 — in the Jewish realm of social media, specifically. That means I’ve seen a lot of awfulness, gas chamber memes, overt antisemitism and Islamophobia. I’ve personally been told many times to go back where I came from (which, yes, is Israel, and that feels grimly funny now). Yet I’ve also believed in its power to heal, to make people feel seen, to energize activism, to educate.
I still believe that — kind of? But I’ve also never seen it this awful, this polarizing, this … honestly, unhinged. An unscientific poll of people I know seems to indicate the same thing: Social media is the worst it’s ever been, maybe because the Israel/Palestine conversation has always been so impossibly polarizing.
People are so stuck in their “side” and binary that they’re willing to share anything — without fact-checking, without making sure they’re not getting in bed with people whose worldview is dangerous, without asking themselves for a small second, wait, is this Islamophobic? Antisemitic? Completely detached from reality? Without wondering if they sound like a conspiracy theorist, or if they’re just being cruel for cruelty’s sake.
And the amount of words wasted on misinformation and meanness doesn’t even compare to the number of words some people insist on putting into other people’s mouths (or keyboards, rather) when their statement doesn’t 100% pass whatever standards they’ve arbitrarily decided it must. Beyond Israel and Palestine, we’ve been tearing ourselves apart inside our Jewish community, and that also breaks my heart.
I understand the deep grief and rage behind most posts. I’ve been enraged and grieving myself. I’ve been scared too: Of the growing antisemitism. Of the people who tell me that I and my family, because we were born in Israel, can’t be innocent civilians, that we all deserve the horrors of Oct. 7 to befall on us.
I’ve also been scared for the life of every innocent person lost and about to be lost. Around 1,200 Israelis killed, 300 kidnapped, over 10,000 Palestinian lives believed to have been taken, all unfathomable numbers. And I’ve been scared about the cycle of rage and violence and siloed indignation that removes the humanity of a whole swath of people. Because I do believe that that’s part of what got us here. And I keep seeing it evinced, over and over again, on social media.
I am — unlike many “experts” newly minted by numbers of followers or magnitude of chutzpah — not an expert of Middle Eastern politics, despite being Israeli and working in Jewish media for almost a decade. I know a lot, but I am not a politician or historian. And yet, to the extent I believe that there is a solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I believe that it has to be one that takes into account the inherent humanity of all those involved. I believe that it will be human and imperfect.
I’m awed by the people who are still managing to use social media for good right now, the little spots of light — people who parse through history and reality with wisdom and empathy, well-educated veteran observers of Israel and Palestine, academics, journalists, fierce activists, who, through immense pain, still manage to retain their humanity.
Yet for me, I’ve realized being on social media is doing more harm than good. It’s keeping me further away from solutions and useful action, and closer to rage and fear. So for now, I can’t stay there.
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_elejah_au
Love is in the Air
_a tvd fanfic_part 4
*
a/n: a little light-hearted love story, set in Rome, Italy.
I know Valentine's is a month away...but I'm in the mood to write a totally human AU Elejah story.
*
The next morning, Elena got up pretty early and after a very quick shower, dressed in a shot, choosing just a pair of skinny jeans, white shirt, wrapping a small red spotted scarf around her neck.
She then looked at herself in the mirror, ruffling her hair in her hands trying to decide what to do with it. It was short. She just applied a bit of the magic hair spray her hair styles gave her. And drying it up quickly, she looked at herself in the mirror smiling happily. Applying a red lipstick, and a mascara, she checked herself once again.
The whole looked screamed - so 1950s, so Audrey Hepburn, so rockabilly, and she smiled - why not.
Slipping her flats on, and grabbing her bag and keys, she floated out of the apartment.
A bit later she glid at full speed on the rented bicicletta through the streets of the old part, across the piazza with a basket full of fresh vegetables, flowers and bread from the market, she skidded to a stop beside a fountain, and securing her bike, sat down in a cafe near by to have her morning cappuccino and a brioche.
Ordering her breakfast, looking at the people passing by, taking photos near the fountain. Her heart buzzed dreamily at the thought of Elijah.
"Dance?" Elijah's voice, soft, sweet, and yet so manly, still rang in her ears bringing back all she had often replayed in her head when she went from one heartbreak to another. That one dance was a food for her #imagine how it would have been if only I had not gone away that day.
And then, there he was, sitting next to her in Rome, and asked her to dance again.
At the same time, Elijah stopped typing, and took a sip of the espresso he had made earlier. He looked out through the window and grinned, his soul springing up with the memory of the night before.
Flashback
"Dance?" Elijah said putting his hand out to Elena.
Elena nodded, and took her hand and there, immediately, goose-bumps raced all over her skin. Making a small mental breath, they came closer.
As she leaned a bit to him, her scent engulfed him, taking control of all his senses. He pulled her slightly to him. He could feel shiver up.Together as one they moved slowly to the music, transporting them both to their dance so many years ago back in Mystic Falls.
Lost in their little world, they continued to sway , to another song, not bothering that all eyes were more or less on them. A couple sitting not far, looked at the pair. "Sono così innamorati. Che meraviglia!"
And if it wasn't for the waiter clumsily breaking a glass, they would have most probably stayed this way, moving to eternity, or at least till they were asked to leave, because they had to close.
"Thank you - for this dance" Elijah said politely with a small smile crossing his face.
"You are so welcome - oh, there is your pizza!" Elena exclaimed as she saw the waitress now taking the plate with the scrumptious dish to their table.
"Oh, it smells so good even from there" Elijah said as the walked to the table.
Talking some more about his book, and the idea behind his sequel, they shared the pizza between them, having Elena succumb to its delicious waft.
"Ah, it's raining again." Elijah commented as he looked outside.
"I've got an umbrella," Elena said ,"the spring in Italy is a layer of sunshine and a layer of rain. Always be prepared to have an umbrella, even though it seems like you don't need it. It's a common misconception that the climate in Rome Italy is Mediterranean."
"Wow, you are talking like you live here"
"Well- I read that. I get prepared." Elena said. "Also I have spent last four months in Florence and Venice. You don't want to experience the flood in Venice. Not easy and so not attractive. But, when it is not raining, it's the most fairy-tale like place on Earth."
"You love Italy, don't you?" Elijah said taking a sip of wine.
"I do. Shooting in Florence was great too. You also chose to set Angel Heart in Padua. Seems like Italy is special to you, too." Elena said.
"My fondest memories are always connected to Italy." Elijah then said.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. My best friend lives here now, too. I am staying in his apartment."
"Oh?"
"You know him - well, he used to date Rebekah back then in college. Stefan Salvatore."
"Stefan? Really? Wow - how come?"
"His grandfather was Italian - and they returned to live in Italy. I don't know if you know, but he and his brother were brought up by them, as their parent's died when they were little. Anyway, he is an art historian, and teaches at the John Cabot University. It's an American university in the heart of Rome." Elijah replied.
"Right. And - uhm - how is Rebekah? I - well, I know she was the editor of Vogue, and I know that she got her own designer line out now. Actually, I have seen her designs on New York fashion week."
"Then you know that she is ass-kicking," Elijah said,"it has always been her dream to have her own label."
"You will not believe this - uhm - a week ago - I chose a dress from her to wear on the Premiere of 'Dark Beauty' - huh - and now meeting you here - it's like," Elena now stopped gulping a bit, and took a bit of wine.
Elijah made a little sweet sigh and looking at her, "Like it was meant to be."
Elena raised her head, another gulp bolted out, "What?"
Thinking that he had participated himself, Elijah turned to the window and briskly changed the subject, "It's pouring down."
"You can have my umbrella and I will take a taxi if it doesn't stop. Deal?" Elena then said.
"Deal. But then you will have to let me pay you back for saving me from getting drenched - I invite you to Carbonara a la Elijah."
"Ok. But you will have to let me make some salad-"
"Agreed. Tomorrow at six - my place - uhm - Stefan's place."
Elena nodded, and as he paid the bill, they were on their way to their respective apartments. Elena left in a taxi and Elijah walked back with the umbrella, smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.
Now, Elena paid for her cappuccino and made her way back to her apartment. The sun was up in the sky flickering down on her as she cycled through the streets, her heart jumping radiantly.
Was this really meant to be?
*
#elejah#elena gilbert#elijah mikaelson#alternative universe#tvd imagines#fanfiction#love is in the air#part 4
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Reflections on AAPI May and Fandom Racism
I started this entry when I was still feeling really hurt and angry from some stuff that happened early in the month. I’ve since cooled down and have read the beautiful reflections written by the mods of MXTX Diaspora May, so I plan to write about my experience as a creator instead.
Cut for length!
The What
MXTX Diaspora May was started in 2021 to celebrate Chinese diaspora creators and to elevate own-voice works after a number of fandom racism incidents happened. I wasn’t around MDZS fandom at the time of the initial creation of the collection, but I found some of the works when I was lurking on AO3 and reading.
After reading one of the fics, I felt like I was coming home for the first time. Up until that moment, I had not experienced seeing my own experiences and struggles mirrored in fic at all. Many of the works dealt with the idea of feeling “not enough” to be any of our identities - not Chinese enough, not North American enough, not anything enough. I had never felt as seen as I had reading those fic. In days, I read through as much of the collection as I could and I managed to find the Danmei Diaspora Creatives collection and the discord server. Up until then, I felt like I was a single lurker awash in the vast ocean of fandom - there were so many fics and so many creators of such talent that I felt like I my own voice wouldn’t make a difference or perhaps, that it wouldn’t matter. I was someone who spent years being in love with writing, but never feeling like I could ever be good enough - I had felt like a lost a part of my creativity and my mind felt empty of fiction. That’s part of why I started with podfic - it felt better reading someone else’s words rather than my own.
I lurked around the Diaspora discord for quite a while before I felt comfortable talking. But once I did, I realized that there was a whole group of people out there who were like me - normal people with normal lives who had lived through the experience of being forever tied to our motherland through our appearance despite being separated for years or even generations. The Diaspora collection means so much to me because it was a chance to see people like me in the works I consume, something that was incredibly rare and entirely absent as I was growing up.
The Why
I can’t really reflect about fandom without talking about my own life and how I got here.
I found fandom initially when I was very young and feeling very isolated. I was a visibly Chinese kid in a school full of white kids and I had only been in North America for about 3 years. My English was bad and I didn’t have many friends except the other Asian kids, partially because that was expected of me. I think I was pretty quiet and internally focused - I was really struggling with family stuff, but I never had the words to tell anyone else. In the end, I turned to fandom as an escape when I was feeling the most lost and alone. I remember spending many days and many nights reading through as much as I could find voraciously so I could feel and be someone else. Fiction became a magical place that could transport me into any life or any story in an instant. The endless nature of fan fiction kept me coming back for more; some days, the only thing that kept me going was knowing that the fic I was reading wasn’t finished, that I would never know the conclusion to some stories that I loved.
I was probably unhealthily hyper focused on fanfic, but I got through that bit and, as I became more well-adjusted, I had less space in my life for fandom.
Then, in 2021, I got into a pretty serious car accident that derailed my entire life. I became unable to work in the career that I spent over 10 years training to do. With Covid restrictions at its most limiting, I became a recluse at home who could hardly do anything. I became extremely depressed as I started to wonder if my life could ever get back to how it once was. Up until that point, 110% of my energy and focus had gone into my career and it was suddenly gone. Luckily, I had watched CQL and started reading fic just before the accident. Soon, it became the only thing that helped me pass the time.
I don’t know how much I read, but I know that for many days, all I did was lie in bed and read fic in small bursts. Without the ability to do much else (and with limited ability to read at all), it felt like my life was falling apart and I was becoming a useless person.
Fandom helped to pull me out. I started to make podfic because I wanted to make things more accessible (since I also had lots of trouble reading). I was thrown by some of the pronunciation in some podfic since it was so different than what I had heard in the show. There were certainly lots of people who tried their best and I appreciated it each time. I finally had the confidence to add my voice to the mix and the rest is history.
Fandom became the focus of what limited energies I had, whether it was consuming works or making podfic. At some point, as I started to recover, I was able to write again and I started penning some of my first fanfic. For the months that I was completely off work, and the months where I was starting to increase my hours, fandom became an escape and a purpose. My life was uncertain, but I had fic to write and pods to do and each thing I made was another accomplishment.
I’ve been lucky that fandom found me in some of the toughest times in my life and I’ll always love fandom for that.
The How
I participated in Diaspora May 2022 by contributing some podfic. It was all I could manage at the time, but I felt so lucky to be able to participate with a group of people who touched me so much with their fic. I was still nervous to be around fandom spaces since I’d never participated in the community before, but everyone was lovely and welcoming. I had a great time and I received a beautiful gift fic from @dragongirlG. I produced my longest podfic. I read lots of incredible stories in the collection.
This year, I chose to produce podfic instead of writing fic again. I chose to pod works of other diaspora creators so that every work I created would help to make more own-voice stories accessible. I would’ve loved to do a lot more, but time didn’t always allow for it. I’m just a single creator, so I know I don’t make a huge difference in the grand scheme of things, but I told myself that if I helped a meaningful story to reach even a few more people, I would’ve accomplished what I set out to do.
At a time where conversations around racism in fandom are flying around, it’s even more important for us to highlight the own-voices stories. I would love for these works to reach the other people out there, lurkers like the Panda of 2021 who needed to hear them. I’ve really struggled with some of the conversations around racism lately, partially because some of the most oft-cited voices about fandom have considered Asians to “not count” as POC because of the model minority myth. dragongirlG’s essay addresses it much better than I can. I was also hurt when I saw that creators enthusiastically involving themselves with anti-racism work also posted fic that perpetuated unconscious cultural erasure of the Chineseness of the characters. The worst part is knowing that none of that is on purpose - people really do mean their best. Seeing it happen time and time again is exhausting and trying to correct those assumptions is sometimes a thankless task. I’m grateful whenever I have positive interactions around these topics, but my exhaustion is a big part of why I don’t really do much sensitivity reader work.
The Now
At the end of the day, I hope we can highlight the works of creators of colour in fandom. I also hope that fandom will slowly move to improving inclusiveness. I don’t pretend to be a saint or faultless in any of this - I know that I have held and do hold racially biased assumptions based on cultural stereotypes and my upbringing. I want to constantly challenge myself on these assumptions, but I often flounder and make mistakes. I try to learn from them, but I’ll never be a blank slate of perfect anti-racism because stereotypes and assumptions are impossible to disentangle from my upbringing. I think I’ll feel satisfied as long as I keep trying to learn.
Having seen some of the dialogue around racism and being anti-racist of late, I worry that calling out and shunning of people who are considered “racists” will only make those people become more entrenched in their ideology. LIke the spitefic that people have mentioned in MDZS, calling people racists and kicking them out of the group can result in more hurt rather than solving the issue. The more divisive fandom becomes, the more difficult it is to reach the people on the extremes. LIke with research on the radicalization of youth, the more isolated people become, the more vulnerable they will be to extreme views. If we keep kicking out the “racists” in fandom, they’ll look for community elsewhere - the only places these people will be accepted is with the other “racists,” the people we’ve kicked out of the group. I worry this will result in more of the aforementioned spitefic if not outright harassment or worse.
My personal approach is that people need to be allowed to have the opportunity to change and I don’t have to forgive them for hurting me. I’ve struggled for a long time about how to care for people who have hurt others; some may say this is mental gymnastics, but it’s what I need to do. Part of my real life work is specifically with people who have been incarcerated, sometimes for extremely violent crimes. Despite the things they have done, they still deserve a chance to be rehabilitated into the community. At the end of the day, I still need to be there to help them to change if it means preventing them from hurting others in the future; I’m very proud of that. Isolating them more and giving these people fewer choices only makes them return to things that society does not want them doing. I know fandom is not an equivalent comparison, but I believe the same applies - we need to give people the opportunity and space to change even if the people they hurt do not forgive them. And that’s okay.
So where do my ramblings leave us?
-Isolation and shunning only breeds extremism/radicalization
-Racism sucks and still happens in fandom
-Because of upbringing and culture, I hold racist views and so do you
-Combatting them requires constantly challenging yourself to change
-People who are hurt do not have to forgive those that hurt them
-We still need to keep space in fandom for people who have done racist actions if we want to change their views
This is only semi-coherent rambling, but I hope those take homes are meaningful. I’m definitely feeling less hurt and more proud about the Diaspora May collection. I’m grateful to fandom and fandom is also a source of great angst, often because of cultural erasure or racist actions. But I’ll still be here and I’ll still keep trudging on because of the wonderful and kind friends I’ve made. If I can somehow resonate with even a single person out there, then what I’ve created will have meaning.
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Ok so I love Ghost In The Shell and I love all your aus
So I gotta ask, if all your aus took place in the Ghost In The Shell universe which ones would be the least awful (awful in the sense of pure danger for the Ghost fam) and which ones would be the most awful
Okie Dokie >:)
(@bluepeachstudios I am once again borrowing Ghost for this)
I'm only gonna do the aus I already have fics published for/talked about at length (with one exception :3)
Starting with the least dangerous/stressful/awful crossover, Same Story Different Font. This one genuinely wouldn't be too difficult on Ghost (assuming he isnt the one that goes dimension hopping again) plus he and Leonardo would instantly try to adopt each other ("WHAT YOU MEAN YOU WERE ISOLATING YOURSELF FOR OVER TWO DECADES?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BECAME A FATHER OF FOUR AT SEVENTEEN?" Their kids would cause the most insane amounts of chaos ever) They would be friends, give them a social life beyond their children
Next up is Lost But Never Found. This one is definitely more stressful on good ole Ghost. The second he realizes Indigo is an alternate version of Leonardo that suffered the exact same fate as him but WORSE...Ghost's heart is gonna fucking SHATTER (Ie, Indigo fell through a portal with no way back home but Big Mama captured him, forced him to fight in the Battle Nexus, COMPLETELY WIPED HIS MEMORIES BECAUSE HE DIDNT WANT TO KILL, continued to force him to fight every single day multiple times a day...yeah that was objectively worse than Ghost's early years. Big Mama better pick a god and PRAY)
The reasons this au is more stressful/dangerous is because A. An alternate version of your brother is HERE instead of back home, and he also has no memory of his old life so how the hell are you gonna get THAT back. And B. Helping Indigo come back down from the "Kill or be killed" mentality and help his adjust to normal mutant turtle life is gonna be really rough, especially when he ends up joining the Mud Dogs and becoming a hitman because he did not feel like he belonged with the Rise fam at all (and its only gonna get worse when he DOES get his memories back ALL AT ONCE :3)
Now into the really stressful/dangerous territory with When The World Crumbles!
Bet you didnt see this one coming ;)
Poor Ghost is definitely gonna need blood pressure medication after this whole ordeal. To keep it brief, the 2012 turtles fall into the Riseverse. They were not trying to GO there at all. They were tring to stop another FULL SCALE KRAANG INVASION. So...
These turtles are in the wrong dimension
Their dimension is currently being INVADED
And to make it worse it has only been TWO MONTHS since Splinter was killed by the Super Shredder.
So the entire is spent trying to hurry and build a working portal to get these kids back home before the Kraang fully destroy their world, and also dealing with the 2012 boys unlocking Ninpo. By suffering immensely the entire time and eventually returning to the 2012 dimension (the Rise kids are going to help to and so will Ghost because duh) and stopping a full scale invasion.
But considering the events of the last couple of chapters, its not gonna be easy. And its only the beginning. (And considering that there will be a SEQUEL fic in Eclipse Across Dimensions...its gonna get so so so much worse. I would actually put Eclipse Across Dimensions as the top most stressful/dangerous time for literally everyone, but considering its a sequel fic to this au and I am nowhere NEAR that far into the story...it stays here for now :3)
Ghost will absolutely adopt these traumatized, orphaned nineteen year olds on sight
And the absolute MOST stressful/dangerous au for the Ghost fam would have to be my newest au (and the one I havent talked that much about, which is why it is the exception to my aforementioned rule) Fractured (Lost) Hamato Clan
Oh boy :)
Aka the au where the 2012 boys gets brain wormed by the Shredder into becoming evil. 2012 Splinter, Casey and April all flee to the Riseverse, the ENTIRE 2012 Footclan FOLLOWING THEM
Which means that on top of the Rise mutants, Rise Footclan, and Barron Draxum the boys will have to deal with
Footbots that learn and ADAPT to every move they make
Extremely dangerous mutant assassins and goons
THE LITERAL 2012 SHREDDER (who not only SURVIVED GETTING FULL ON CHOMPED BY AN 8 FOOT TALL MUTANT ALLIGATOR BUT BEAT THE MUTANT ALLIGATOR. The boys are absolutely fucked)
And evil versions of themselves.
It will be Ghost's literal worst nightmare come true and this happens early in season ONE so they dont even have ninpo to help them, and not even the extra training they had with Ghost will be enough to deal with everything
(When his kids end up fighting The Shredder for the first time, Ghost will swear that he felt his heart stop.)
Its not gonna be a fun time for anyone involved, especially when it comes to confrontations between the 2012 turtles and Rise kids. Because they dont want to hurt them, they literally have an evil parasite in their brains MAKING them do this, making them act this way. (And they're only 17, two years older than Raph, and it breaks Ghost's heart every time he's forced to fight these poor kids.)
However these kids are extremely dangerous.
Because they KNOW the Rise kids, as different ad they are at their cores they're the same person. Which means they know how the Rise kids think, how they behave, what stupid plans they'll come up with.
And how to break them into pieces.
One such example being when 2012 Donnie hacks into the Turtle Tank's system and hijacks it, even going as far as to completely lock the tank down and drain it of OXYGEN to force Donnie, Raph, Mikey and Ghost (Leo was not with them so no portals out) into submission and basically hold them as hostages in their own tank. And thats just ONE example of many, its that bad.
Its gonna be the absolute MOST stressful time of Ghost's life for sure
So in order from least awful to most awful:
Same Story Different Font, Lost But Never Found, When The World Crumbles (and its eventual sequel), and Fractured (Lost) Hamato Clan
Hope you enjoyed anon!
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I would like 2 know 🥺🥺........[SILLY]
Okay, gonna go on a yapping spree
Quick warning ima mention some topics like self harm, and death
So here's B one because it has a lot to it it
So like I like to believe B was born in the 2000s, now his actual bio family has a very big link to this god called stardom (I'm going to make a design for them soon but to describe them, they usually wear an outfit similar to a priest, they have stars scattered across it and they have very long curly hair. They also have traits that of deer, they have hooves, ears and antlers) now Bs mother had him and his twin sister (brother at the time) a day apart. Right so she had this almost prophecy and had to give up B and his younger sister. Now like I've Said before B is a trans guy, he used to be a girl, who was called Nicole (if you read the prologue it should link up to James' Superstition) they were taken by this very caring woman who had a rather neglectful husband. So Reagan and B (or refered to as Nicole at the time) grew up with very little affection, and not understanding why someone could possibly be nice to him :(. Now onto the part about B breaking his leg really badly, he was actually around 5 1/2 at the time and was in the basement of his house, he was playing about and knocked over a very heavy piece of metal on his leg, breaking his femur bone in 3 places, this was actually really traumatic to B obviously, this lead to B developing a feeling that he should look all around for cautions around him, sometimes leaving him a bit panicked.
When he had turned 6, a new person had suddenly come into his clas in primary school, this kid had come from Germany and didn't know much english (you'll never guess who it was/pos) so they had actually become good friends, this kid actually was James (hence James getting a superstition in the prologue that he Recognised B.) Now after all that, Bs step mother had a child, but unfortunately one day she suddenly got seriously sick, B actually has a memory of him when he was just 11 in which his mother was visibly shaking a lot and was pale as fuck. She unfortunately died a month after B turned 12. Because of Bs step dad being rather neglectful, B and Reagan spent most of their time caring for their step brother, this went on for a while, B usually convinced Reagan to let him take care of him more because he just wanted Reagan to have time to grieve the sudden lost of their step mother, this led to B missing out a lot from school. This actually one leading cause to the s/h he had actually done it once after his mother died but soon all the stress caused him to cut himself multiple times per day.
Soon his uncle had taken in B and Reagan and they had to move away, leaving James alone without B.
Now time skip to when B was 18, this is one of his major traumas, B had only just become a backrooms explorer and had some experiences with it, a group of his friends decided to bring him along because he had a lot of experience already, so they could explore a rather dangerous room. B was obviously like "fuck no don't do that you could die" but they kept on trying to convince B until he gave in. Before they knew it they were cornered, B was actually the first to get attacked an entity charged at him and dug its teeth deep into the side of Bs neck (Wilbur soot core) and thundercunted him across to the side, all the others was like "oh shit" and tried to fight but unfortunately were ripped to shreds, B had to actually lay there and watch it unfold because if he moved he could become another victim.
Obviously after he was in therapy for a while and then disappeared and soon met James again.
Now James' one, a whole lot less terrifying. James was born in Germany obviously, at the time he spoke only German, until his parents decided to move to wales, so he had to learn a but of English. Fortunately the teachers there did give him extra help with english and understanding stuff. You see James is autistic but he didn't know anything about it fully until he was about 11,he thought it was normal to not understand social cues, have really big interests in things, to stim or get panicked by loud noises. James actually would get very stressed, and often would be babied, making it worse he wanted respect. This led to a lot of stress and soon he started to develop coping mechanisms, one of the main ones being eating (a reason why he's quite chubby in my hc, he's also chubby because I am a bit too). Alongside that James gets very clingy to people if they actually are nice to him, this can be quite self destructive because if they are gone for a while he can get really upset, James actually for a while had major separation anxiety when him and B first got together, this poor guy would actually cuddle pillows. James has actually had a really big hype fixation on chemistry since he first learnt about it but unfortunately he couldn't become a chemist so he chose the next best thing. Now about why James needs that visor. James had always had problems with his sight, he actually wore glasses but soon it started to get much worse until he actually went particularly blind, he was given the visor so he could see again and they could hopefully soon find a cure for the sudden blindness. But now they really can't, because uh oh an entity got him and ripped off the visor and pulled out his eyes, fortunately B ran in and saved him, and that led James to getting a bit of trauma too.
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Language Learning Check-In: June
Assuming I keep up with this I guess I'll make this a monthly thing. I've loved languages for a long time, but this was the first time in a while where I felt like it was my main hobby. I'm currently very into the idea of 'comprehensible input' which is where things are simplified enough and with enough context that you can understand what's going on, even if you can't understand most of the words, and you naturally start picking up both grammar and vocabulary from exposure. I finally quit Duolingo cold turkey.
Thai: I started seriously studying Thai at the end of last month, starting with learning the alphabet and then immediately abandoning that to do pure listening comprehension only. I've been averaging 2hrs a day, a pace I can probably stick to for the next two months since I can watch videos during work, but not after that. This is not counting time spent watching BL since in that case I'm focusing mainly on reading subtitles, although I'm sure it helps a little. The videos I'm watching have the format of two teachers asking each other basic questions ('Is this a fruit? Do you like to eat this?') with lots of repetition, hand gestures, and doodles to illustrate.
I feel like I've been learning so much but all I can quantify is the hours spent since it's not like I'm making vocab lists or taking tests, I'm just absorbing like a sponge. My favorite part is that it's pretty chill to be a sponge so it's still possible when I'm tired, and until this past week or so I was struggling a lot with my energy levels. I don't really have any fun language facts to share other than that sky blue is its own distinct color category, there's no overall blue in Thai.
Spanish: I'm actually part of an insanely multilingual friend group now and there are a lot of Spanish speakers. This includes the friend I've been calling 'Kdrama Friend' who is actually a Spaniard, although her mother tongue is Catalan, not Castilian. Then there's my Guatemalan neighbor of the Mysterious Doormat Beverage (left on my doormat, not consisting of doormats), and a few other women. Kdrama Friend can translate (and so can some of the others, they mostly speak more English than I speak Spanish) but it's a lot less awkward when she doesn't have to. I do struggle to follow group conversations a lot of times though, so I've been meaning to seriously work on my conversational skills and now I've actually started.
It's easier than with Thai in the sense that I don't have to have visual input, I can understand intermediate to advanced podcasts like the Duolingo podcast and even native podcasts, but it's harder in the sense that I don't feel any progress since my level was already pretty high and I'm just picking up the occasional new word. We'll see how I do at tomorrow's baby shower. To be honest I think a lot of my problems with conversation are more psychological than linguistic and exist even when I'm speaking English, I can just cope better then.
I found a podcast on fashion history which I was able to follow because I'm actually really interested in that. It's the whole comprehensible input thing, I know perfectly well what a toile is and have used them, but someone at my Spanish level who didn't know how to sew clothes might have been lost.
Working on Spanish doesn't feel that exciting but it's useful and important to me for heritage reasons. If you've ever read the Josefina American Girl books, that's exactly one side of my family and my grandma grew up speaking Spanish, but my dad's Spanish is almost nonexistent and I just learned in school.
Vietnamese: You all know I love this language and I've wanted to learn it for a while, but there aren't great resources for it and while I can absolutely pick up certain words and phrases, it still kind of...doesn't sound like a language a lot of the time. Thai already feels more understandable. I think the alphabet similarity is actually hurting me because if I look at a word the way it would sound with English pronunciation interferes too much, and there aren't any videos simple enough to feel comprehensible without any translation. So this is on the back burner.
Korean: Dropped for now, although I did find some comprehensible input videos in case I decide to try learning it later.
My problem is that I now want to learn all the languages, right now, and that is not how it works. Anyway, feel free to ask me about languages any time.
#i haven't even gotten to my filipino friend who briefly taught english on a remote island in siberia#or the time kdrama friend 'translated' for our nepali friend at the doctors but she was just repeating everything in simpler english#its multilingual chaos over here#squeakygeeky learns thai
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For the past few years I’ve been making posts on New Year’s Eve about my life, so… gotta keep the tradition alive I guess!
Some things I accomplished this year:
Another year of maintaining my Duolingo streak. I’m still not confident in speaking Spanish but I feel like I’m making progress understanding it.
Paid off all of my credit card debt. I’m very proud of this one because I’ve been in debt since I turned 18 and got my first credit card, and I thought it was just a fact of life, but it didn’t have to be!
Saved up $10k for… idk, part of a down payment, day care costs for whenever I finally decide to have a kid, whatever! The world is my oyster.
Developed a healthier relationship with food. My weight loss goals ultimately didn’t pan out, I only lost 20lbs and gained some of that back over the holiday months, but I feel good about my mental progress.
Started exercising more. I joined the local Y and attended a variety of classes that I really enjoy going to, and I walked outside a lot when the weather was nice. I even hiked a couple of times! Which was a big deal for me considering how out of shape I was and how little confidence I had in myself.
Highlights of the year:
Going to Colorado!!! Absolutely my favorite thing about 2022 was the South Park 25th Anniversary Concert and the whole trip surrounding that, from visiting Fairplay, to eating fancy food at Wolf’s Tailor in Denver, to hiking up to Hanging Lake. Even standing in the merch line in the blazing hot sun for hours at Red Rocks had its moments. I definitely want to go back after Casa Bonita reopens in May.
Reconnecting with a friend who ended up becoming one of the people I spent the most time with in the back half of 2022. Going walking together and doing Y classes, having House of the Dragon watch parties, dinners and drinks… it’s just been really great having her around this year!
Hiking a full mountain to see the foliage. It was a small mountain in the grand scheme of things, but I still felt accomplished!
Just generally going out and doing things more, socializing and being active and not worrying so much about money. It put a dent into how much I’ve been able to save but you know what?? Worth it.
In general this year was a good one. I’m still miserable working at my waitressing job, but it’s necessary to be able to save money. Work in my career is going well, though - I feel like I connect with the kids even though I’m constantly worrying I’m not doing enough there. My mental health has been pretty stable, some hiccups here and there but nothing drastic. And my cats are doing great, thankfully! I even went on a date to end the year and I’m seeing her again tomorrow!
Goals for 2023:
Another year of Duolingo.
Save another $10k.
Get in better shape before summer so I can do more difficult hikes.
Lose weight… I should stop putting this as a goal but it’s tradition at this point.
Read more books!!
Practice drawing more often.
And on that note…
Happy New Year!
I truly hope that 2023 is good to all of you!
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Former anon, thank for answering my question, you mentioned that you have a lot of feeling about your old south bay neighborhood, care to elaborate?
yeah, sure. i've alluded to it here and there in posts before. i've thought about writing a big, navelgazing essay about it for years, but something stops me every time. mainly, to tell the whole story would involve discussing things that i'm not thrilled about immortalizing on paper. it's not painful to talk about, it's just a condemnation-of-memory thing. when something is bad enough, you don't want to dignify it by recording its existence.
the short version is, i spent most of my childhood not appreciating what an idyllic place i grew up in. i found it kind of boring, even. the sun was always out. i was jealous of my classmates' laptops and trips to europe. then my life imploded when i was seventeen years old, and my mother and i found ourselves homeless and desperately poor. one of her church friends let us crash in her guest room for a few months to avoid living in a shelter and let me finish high school. but after that, it was up to our relatives to take us in, and the only ones in california lived four hundred miles away. i hated every minute of that drive. eight hours of brown hills and dust, away from the palm trees and ocean, splitting the meals we could afford. what steinbeck really captures about the valley is how dry it is. we were two bedraggled, dehydrated people angry at fate.
i think, in the typical coming-of-age experience, you either put down roots in your hometown, or outgrow it and leave. i was pulled out before i was ready. that means part of my mind is frozen in time, like a lost little kid, always trying to go back there. my mother and i take road trips just to stay in a local hotel, or shop at our old grocery store, or eat lunch at our old beach. i'm a tourist in my own neighborhood. it's surreal to think about, and it gave my life a sense of dangerous impermanence. there's always another shoe to drop. if you lose something, you'll never get it back. i feel better these days, but it's been a long journey out.
i've seen the numbers. to buy a decent place in that region, you're looking at over a million dollars, likely 1.2 or 1.3. the socal housing market is bonkers. it's only within the past year that my mother and i had even a sliver of hope that it might be possible someday. but i'm determined, because living well is the best revenge. will it be different? will i be different? yeah. but i'll be able to say i did it.
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Immortal love
Chapter one
(Part one)
Billy Butcherson x Transgender! FTM! Reader.
-I really want to make this a multiple part story where they Soul Bond and adopt a child together. (I say Soul Bond because they can't get legally married so a Soul bonding spell preformed by the two of them takes place instead.) I really just want a feel good multi-part fic :) -
Also I struggled really hard on whether to keep this fic Gender neutral or to give this fic a transgender ftm reader. I really wanted the reader to be ftm because it seemed fitting for a trans man to have witch's blood.
Warnings: cursing, fluff, some angry words said about Winnie.
(Fic takes place after the end of Hocus Pocus 2)
Summary: After the Sanderson sisters died for good Billy finally gets his eternal rest only to find that the afterlife was very lonely. However he wouldn't be alone for very long as a new witch moves to Salem. This witch is the exact opposite of the sisters, only using their magic for good things.
One day they decided to take a walk through the graveyard to relax after s stressful day at work and come across the grave of William Butcherson, noticing the tombstone said 'lost soul'. On a whim they decide to use one of their spells to try and wake him from the dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N really did love Salem, he was really surprised at how progressive they were, with many Wiccan, pagan, and magica shops scattered across the town. He didn't go into town much though, people really scared him so he tended to stay in his new home reading or doing one of his many hobbies.
He did get a job at a coffee shop for some extra spending money (though he didn't need it, his whole family were Wiccans and were fairly well off so the money wasn't really needed)
Not surprisingly, getting that job was one of his biggest regrets, having been yelled at by three customers on his first day. He seriously considered losing his white witch status just to transform this one particular jerk of a customer into a backwards donkey with its ass for his face. He managed to keep the white witch title and keep a smile on his face as he deals with the vile words coming from the mouths of the most goblin faced people he'd ever seen.
Today however was the last straw. He'd been working at that shop for a little over four months now and up until today it was tolerable, today a woman spent three hours belittling him and degrading him, using many very hurtful slurs. The worst part was his manager taking the customer's side, the moment that happened he looked to the manager and, in the calmest voice he could muster, he spoke two words before walking out, "I quit."
Now he was walking through a graveyard, listening to the birds chirping and the wind rustling the leaves of the old trees. After an hour or so he got tired of walking and sat down on the ground next to a few Graves, one of which caught his eye, an old tombstone that bore the name 'William Butcherson' with the words 'Lost Soul' inscribed beneath it. His eyes scanned the tombstone, admiring the design
'I wonder who he was...' He thought, wondering if there might be some way to talk to the dead. Fortunately for him he remembered a ritual he learned from a shaman from Louisiana, a spell to raise the dead. It wasn't a black magic spell, it was more like bringing the soul back to the body.
He returned that night with the necessary items for the ritual along with his book of collected spells.
(This ritual/spell is totally made up by me! Please don't try this!)
Kneeling at the foot of the grave he began to set up 8 red candles in a circle.
Using black salt he made a circle around the candles while he hummed and old song his mother use to sing.
Using the ashes of the burned pages of an old Bible he made lines connecting each candle.
In the center he placed a piece of aged paper containing the name of the deceased he wished to bring back.
'Almost ready to start the chant'
He pulled a small bottle of vodka from the outer pocket of his bag, taking off the lid and tipping a third of the bottle onto the paper.
Opening the book to the correct page he began to read off the chant as he lit each candle
"Death to life, ashes to dust, back to life bring you I must, breathe and rise, reverse the demise, arise and live I beg of thee!" He chanted, repeating it as he lit each candle.
All of the candles were lit and with a new match he began to quickly repeat the next part of the chant
"mortem contra vitam levare maledictionem"
He dropped the lit match onto the paper which caught fire almost instantly.
"mortem contra vitam levare maledictionem"
The paper quickly turned to ash and what was left of the fire lit the lines of Bible ash, burning up ti each candle.
"mortem contra vitam levare maledictionem"
The flames of each candle turned blue as a mist began to surround him.
"mortem contra vitam levare maledictionem!
mortem contra vitam levare maledictionem!
MORTEM CONTRA VITAM LEVARE MALEDICTIONEM!"
The ground began to shake as the mist disappeared into the ground. He jumped up and moved away, worried since the shaman's ritual didn't do anything like that.
The candles went out and everything became earrily calm, confusing him even more, did the ritual not work? He quickly packed up the candles, the vodka, and his book, deciding to go and see if he could find something in his house to dig up the grave.
He was gone for just a few minutes but when he got back his heart jumped up into his throat seeing the grave had already dug up.
He inched closer to the now open grave and looked on once he was close enough to see.
Empty.
The coffin in the grave was totally empty.
Y/n only has one question running through his head... where was the body?
That question was quickly answered by a voice piping up from behind him "Are you the one who brought me back?"
The voice caught him off guard and he jumped letting out a small yell "Oh good Christ!" He spun around to see who had scared him only to come face-to-face with wa walking corpse.
"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you! Just wasn't sure if you were the one who woke me up." The zombie.. man.. let out an awkward chuckle. Y/N gave him a small nod "Yeah, it was me... sorry."
The man let out a sigh of relief "Oh good, glad it wasn't that damn wench of a woman"
Y/N gave him a confused look "I won't even ask." The man responded with a nod "Good, I don't feel like explaining my relationship with her to anyone ever again" He chuckled.
"Well, where are my manners? I'm Billy Butcherson, what's your name?"
(End of chaper one part one)
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I wasn't going to make a post about this, because believe it or not, I'm trying to stay out of the drama (though with everything happening now, I'd hope people would believe it).
Having the person that has abused myself and so many others on this website being finally brought to light has been the most rewarding thing. It feels like finally having a verdict of 'innocent' after a trial that, for me at least, has been going on since 2019. It looks like for others it has gone on even longer.
That being said, I read her apology, and it doesn't change things. I am such a firm believer in giving people second chances, and honestly, if said person came into my inbox and apologized to my face I would probably (and naively) accept it and forgive. But right now, I have such mixed feelings about this entire thing.
This doesn't change the fact that I felt the need to go into hiding in the first place, which is what recently got me called out as a terrible person (the irony). I went into hiding BECAUSE of this behavior, and now I hope people see that. But it doesn't change the fact that in July, during the first call out, I was spending time trying to fight a fight that shouldn't have been mine instead of spending what could have been my last moments with my grandmother (I'm relieved af that it wasn't but I went on that trip expecting it to be my last). It doesn't change the fact that I went to a con with friends this past weekend and spent most of my time locked up in my hotel room, drinking and sobbing and contemplating s*icide. I know that may sound dramatic, but anyone that knows me knows that roleplay is my biggest stress outlet. I'm a therapist in real life (surprise, if you all didn't know that). I spend so much time dealing with other people's emotions that I need to step into a fictional world to give myself space. That space was shattered for me.
It doesn't change the fact that I have spent not only the past two weeks, but MONTHS before, seriously contemplating what I did wrong. Gaslighting at its finest - my friend kept telling me there was no proof of any of my claims, that I did nothing, but I kept saying, "holy shit, what if I did, and I don't even remember?" My brain was trained to think I was in the wrong for something I never even did. I went to therapy for that shit. The first call out against me was RIGHT AFTER MY DAD DIED in 2019 and I was a disaster and went to seek help. I had friends scroll through my blogs for days, only to come up with nothing because nothing was there, but I thought there had to be something.
And it doesn't change the fact that I have lost people. I have cried over people. People I had been nothing but kind and generous to were suddenly believing ONE PERSON'S twisted opinion and commenting that they had been fooled, that I was the devil, that my kindness was all a ploy to hide from the call out. In July, I had over 200 people on this site claim I was dangerous and unsafe and ill and needed to be run off. I was labeled a villain by someone who, not a shocker to me, was hiding the fact that they were a villain themselves by harassing others with the same things they had done.
I normally don't believe call outs, clearly. Because I've been on the end of one that was incredibly false. But considering that my past 4 years have been nothing but terrifying for me, nothing but pure anxiety, nothing but nights of depression? This is a relief. But it also doesn't change the fact that there are victims here, with scars that might not ever heal. Those friends won't ever come back to me. If they do, it's going to be hard to have trust considering they flipped on a dime with their attitude towards me based on one person's bullshit Google Doc.
I don't expect anything to change for myself moving forward from this. But I hope the RPC learns as a whole. Not to believe things just because one person claims them. That 'proof' is often misconstrued and fabricated to match the offender. That call out culture is absolutely disgusting and nothing but a witch hunt in order to run innocent people out of the community just because one person has a problem with them. To believe your own truths, to trust your own interactions with people, and to just quite frankly do fucking better. Do better, RPC. Don't spread the hate. If you don't like someone, block them and shut up, rather than telling everyone else that they aren't allowed to write with them because they're "evil." I hope you all learn, truly.
And for everyone that has been a victim, including those of you that are no longer on this website because of this fear and harassment, I hope you finally get your moment of peace. Your breath of freedom. You all deserve that.
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Butter Cup Baby, Ch 1
This is a Sam/Léo fic! I'm excited to put my Farmer OC out into the world for everyone to see!
Rating: T for Teen
Pairing: Sam/Farmer OC (Male)
Summary: Léo moves to Pelican Town after a rough breakup, and decides to start over and get the family farm back on its feet. A slice-of-life love story, Léo and Sam rekindle their friendship that ended 14 years ago, and perhaps start something new.
Word Count: 5,076
Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption
You can also find it here on ao3!
If you had told Léo a year ago that he’d be returning to Pelican Town, he would’ve laughed in your face. But life has a way of pulling the rug out from under you when you least expect it, and Léo needed a change, desperately. Anything to get out of the city. Anything to forget about Henri.
Two years. Two fucking years. And apparently, none of that had meant anything to Henri. Their first kiss, their first apartment, their promise rings they exchanged because they weren’t quite ready to get officially engaged. None of that mattered because apparently, a sugar daddy was way more important.
It wasn’t that Léo didn’t want to fund Henri’s lifestyle and desire to become an actor. It was just that he felt that his salary could be better spent making a life for them. He had been saving up to move them into a real house, one where they could start a family. Hell, he had even started looking at rings. And then the bombshell hit.
“Rico’s going to help me be an actor. He said he’d give me money for anything I need. And Léo you know I need the cash. If I’m going to become an actor, I can’t stay in Zuzu City. I can’t have that ‘house with a white picket fence’ dream that you want.”
All Léo could do was stare as Henri finished breaking up with him. He nodded dumbly, accepting his fate. They spent the next week dividing their things, and then Henri walked out forever. No calls, no messages on social media. In fact, Léo was almost positive that he’d been blocked on every platform.
For the next three months, Léo felt like he was just existing, not living. He was just going through the motions. Get up, get ready for work, go to work, come back home. Sometimes he forgot to eat, forgot to take a shower.
Depression is what his mom called it. He was depressed and needed a change.
“Remember the letter Grandpa left you?” his mother asked during their weekly phone call. Léo nodded, and then remembered she couldn’t see him.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Do you remember what he said when he gave it to you?”
“Something about how I should open it when I’m ready? When I need a change?”
“Exactly,” his mother said. “I think now might be the right time.”
Léo decided he agreed, and opened up the letter. He was not expecting the deed to his Grandpa’s farm to be enclosed within, and was certainly not expecting for that deed to have been changed over to his name.
He’d been to Pêche Farm before. It had originally been the farm of his Grandma Cosette. When she died, his Grandpa Davíd had taken over. And now…it was Léo’s. And he had very conflicting feelings about this. Namely, he had not liked Pelican Town a whole lot the last few times he was there. Granted, he had been a kid, but still!
What he remembered the most was how cliquey it had been. All of the kids had their very specific friend groups, and stuck to them. Léo hadn’t managed to join in any of the groups, and typically spent his visits to his Grandpa’s farm alone.
“Just talk to them!” his Grandpa had said one day as Léo was feeding the chickens. “Any of them! I’m sure if they got to know you, they’d love to hang out!”
So Léo had grumpily approached each kid, and nobody had responded well. Not until the last week of his visit. Léo had just fed his Grandpa’s horse, and was petting her nose softly. He loved the feeling of a horse’s nose. So velvety soft. He was lost in his thoughts about how nice the horse was when he heard someone call out to him.
“Hey! Farmer boy!”
Léo turned his head and saw a tall gangly boy standing just outside of the horse stall. His shock of white blond hair contrasted with Léo’s deep brown locks, and his green eyes looked nervous. They seemed to be settling everywhere except for Léo, and when they finally did, the boy gave an awkward smile.
“That’s not my name,” Léo said, annoyed. His honey brown eyes glared at the stranger, who quailed at the intensity of his gaze.
“Oh, uh, yeah I know,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just didn’t know what it was. Your name,” the boy clarified.
“Well you’d know it if you didn’t ignore me,” Léo said, turning back to the horse.
“I’m not ignoring you now,” the boy said. “We can try again! Let’s start over. I’m Sam.”
Léo said nothing, turning back to pet the horse. He was hoping that if he ignored the blond boy, he would go away.
No such luck.
“I’m Sam,” he repeated. “What’s your name?”
“Léo,” he said stiffly, not looking at him.
“Well nice to meet you Léo!” Sam said brightly.
Léo turned around again, and saw the boy looking at him expectantly. He really wanted to dislike Sam, he really did. After all, Sam was the first kid Léo had introduced himself to. And instead of being friendly, he had gotten the cold shoulder. But there was something about Sam’s smile, something about the way he looked like he really meant it when he said it was nice to meet him. Something about all that made the ice surrounding Léo’s heart melt.
“You too,” Léo said. “Have you ever pet a horse before?”
Sam’s face split into a wide grin and he walked towards Léo. “No, never!” he said.
“Well, you should give her nose a pat,” Léo said. “Her name is Lorena. She’s a good girl.”
They pet the horse for a bit, and got to talking. Sam apologized profusely for his previous behavior, which Léo told him was fine. It wasn’t, but Léo found himself wanting to see more of Sam’s smiles, and knew that telling him it had irritated him would cause that smile to fade.
That last week had sped by, Léo and Sam practically attached at the hip. When it was time for Léo to leave, the two promised to keep in touch. They exchanged letters for a bit, but eventually, they grew few and far between before not being sent at all. Léo had eventually forgotten about Sam, but when the deed was in his hand, the boy’s giant grin filled his mind, green eyes twinkling in his minds eye. He wondered if Sam still lived there. Probably not. Léo sighed. He was going to have to start all over, meet all new people, and maintain a farm.
“Yeah I know,” he said with a deep sigh. “But…I don’t know, I feel like I need to. Grandpa said I should go if I felt like I needed a change. And I do. After Henri…fuck, I need to get out of Zuzu City, you know?”
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” his friend Emma said as she flopped onto his couch. Or rather, her couch. Léo had managed to convince the landlord to let Emma live there instead of him. He wasn’t sure how he had done that, but Emma’s sad doe eyes when the landlord nearly said no might have had something to do with it.
He was giving up his whole life to go to Pelican Town. His apartment, his friends, and basically everything he owned. Léo had packed a suitcase to take to the farmhouse, and that was it.
Emma nodded sympathetically. She had been his shoulder to cry on and knew that living in the apartment he had shared with Henri was difficult on him. A change was desperately needed, and she was going to be there to support him no matter what.
“Well, whatever will help you,” Emma said. “I’ll be right here if you need anything, okay?” she said. “Anything at all.”
“I know,” Léo said affectionately. “I can always count on you.”
Early the next morning, Léo set out for the bus station, ticket in hand. It was a long ride to Pelican Town, and he was positive that he was going to fall asleep during the ride. Luckily he had his phone that he could play around on, and he anticipated many many games of Bejeweled while he headed to his new home.
After a 2-hour bus ride, Léo finally arrived in Pelican town. He got off the bus, muscles stiff as he rolled his suitcase down to the path that led to town. There was a fork in the road, and Léo considered it before dread sank in. He didn’t actually know where he was going. Great.
“You must be Léo!” a voice rang out.
Léo looked around, and finally spotted two people. One of them was a short man with kind eyes and an impressive mustache. He looked a little younger than his Grandpa would’ve been, and surprisingly, Léo was sure he knew his name.
“Are you…Lewis? Mayor Lewis?” Léo asked, pulling this information from the depths of his memory. He remembered a man who looked like this who his Grandpa talked to a lot. Léo had been shocked to discover his Grandpa was such good friends with the Mayor of the town.
“Ah yes! That’s me!” Lewis said, looking a bit surprised. “You remember me?”
“More your mustache than you,” Léo said to him, getting a loud laugh from the older man.
“Well, it’s good to know something about me stuck out in your memory! This here is Robin,” Lewis said, gesturing to the other person. Robin had fire engine red hair and was a stocky woman. She looked very strong, and Léo wasn’t surprised at all when he was informed that she was the town carpenter and stone mason.
“It’s good to meet you both,” Léo said, shaking their hands.
“Well, let’s get you to your new home!” Robin said, leading the way. “It’s a bit…uh…rundown, but I made you some furniture to spruce the place up a bit.”
“You didn’t have to do that!” Léo said as they walked onto the land.
“Of course I did!” Robin argued. “The bed in there was falling apart! And everything else looked pretty bad. You needed new things, and I know to make them!”
“I don’t know how I can ever thank—holy shit!”
Robin and Lewis both laughed as Léo surveyed the land. Saying the land was overgrown would be an understatement. Weeds were everywhere, and there was hardly room to move from all the trees, rocks, and random logs around. There was some land not covered in trees that he could till, but there was a lot of work to do.
“You’re a farmer now! Not afraid of a little hard work, eh city boy?” Lewis teased.
“I’m just…surprised, that’s all,” Léo said. “I can do it though.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” Lewis said.
“You know,” Robin said as they entered the house, “I can lend a hand with clearing the land. Cutting down the trees and clearing those rocks will take a long time. And I can use what we collect to upgrade uh…this.”
“What are you talking about?” Lewis said, following the two into the farmhouse. “This place is totally fine!”
Léo nodded, agreeing. In fact, the wallpaper and flooring looked new. As he remembered, the farmhouse was simply one room, but the inside looked like it had been updated.
“Only because I put in new floors and fresh wallpaper!” Robin grumbled. “The size of this place is ridiculous though! One room? For an entire house?” She made a tutting noise, and Lewis rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure it will be fine for now,” Lewis said. “I got you some seeds too,” he said, turning to Léo. “I put them on top of your dresser. It’s just parsnip seeds, but it’ll be enough to help you get into the swing of things.”
“You guys really didn’t have to do all of this,” Léo said. “But since you did…thank you so much! I really appreciate it.”
“Anything for the new farmer,” Robin said. “Though…I do have to say, I’m a bit disappointed you remembered Lewis and not me!”
Léo blinked. “What?”
“I saw you plenty when you were here before. Do you remember Sebastian?” Robin asked.
“Sorry no,” Léo said, feeling guilty. “If he’s my age, I didn’t really hang out with the other kids here.”
“Oh! Well, he remembers you! But probably only because of Sam,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “Do you recognize that name?”
“Yes!” Léo said happily. “Sam and I used to talk back in the day, I remember him.”
“Sam is close friends with my Sebby,” Robin said. “Sam has been running his mouth about you ever since he found out you were coming to take over Pêche Farm.”
“Really?” Léo said, shocked. And then he realized something. “Wait, Sam still lives here?”
“Excited to see him?” Lewis asked. “All the kids that were here when you visited still live here! I’m sure you’ll see plenty of familiar faces. Well, we should let you settle in!” Lewis said, clapping his hands together. “Come to the Stardrop Saloon tonight! Nearly the whole town shows up there in the evening, it’ll be a great time to introduce yourself.”
Léo promised he would come, and bade the two older adults goodbye. Finally, he could breathe. To his chagrin, there wasn’t a true kitchen. Just a hot plate, a microwave, and a mini fridge. Inside the fridge, he found another gift from Robin. She had given him a small bowl of pumpkin soup and left a note insisting that he keep both the bowl and spoon. God that woman was amazing. Léo was going to have to do something special to make it up to her.
It didn’t take very long before all his stuff was put away in the drawers. He was forever grateful to his past self for thinking of bringing his kettle, french press, coffee grinder, and two bags of coffee beans. He would die if he didn’t get to have his morning coffee.
Léo decided to poke around the cabin a bit, and discovered a few things. The tiny bathroom he remembered from childhood seemed even smaller if that was possible, and it didn’t even have a door. He assumed Robin must’ve been the one to hang up a privacy curtain, because said curtain seemed very new.
The hot water took forever to turn on, but luckily there was hot water. And thankfully, there was also electricity. That must’ve been something his grandfather installed after Léo stopped visiting because he didn’t remember that being a thing here.
After he finished his assessment of the cabin, he walked out to survey the property. He really would need help clearing the land. He might be strong, but there was no way he would be able to do this all by himself. Walking through the trees, he decided he wanted most of them to stand tall and proud. You didn’t get trees like this in the city, and it would be nice to see them.
As he was looking around, he found a small hidden pathway. Deciding to follow it, he walked for about five minutes before coming across a small clearing. And in that clearing was something so unexpected that for a moment Léo thought he was seeing things.
There was a large shrine there, with four candles on top of it. Fresh candles. Approaching it, he noticed some words carved into the smooth stone.
Wait, what? Why was there some kind of shrine or memorial to his Grandpa hidden in a dark corner of the farm? And why did it seem like someone had been here recently? The candles were clearly new. And that quote…
Davíd Carlos Cienfuegos-Alverez
April 3rd 1946-August 15 2021
He taught me how to love, but not how to stop
A gust of wind blew, and Léo’s attention was brought to something fluttering on the shrine’s mantle. There was a piece of paper held in piece by a small rock. Léo picked it up.
Léo—
Wait for my return on the dawn of your third year
—Grandpa
What the fuck? Léo stood there, incredibly confused. What in the hell was going on? He stuffed the note in his pocket and walked away from this clearing as fast as possible. This was strange and slightly creepy. He needed to get back to the farmhouse. Or maybe to the town.
Yeah. The town. Meet some people, get some food from the store, and just clear his mind from whatever that was. He snagged his wallet from on top of his new dresser and walked into Pelican Town. It was a very short walk, and the first thing he saw was the local hospital. Okay, good to know that was there. And right next to it was the general store.
“You must be the new farmer!” a booming voice announced in a thick French accent.
A tall man with light brown hair approached him. His glasses were perched on the edge of his nose, and he pushed them up before giving Léo a winning smile.
“Yes,” Léo said, extending a hand. “I’m Léo,” he said as they shook hands.
“Oh I know!” the man said. “I’m Pierre, the owner of this store. You wouldn’t remember me or my wife, but we lived here when your Grandpa did! In fact, I remember seeing you in town a few times!”
“Ah,” Léo said awkwardly. This was the second person who recognized him from his childhood who he didn’t remember. “Well, it’s good to see you again,”
“You as well,” Pierre said. “I really miss your Grandma you know. It almost felt like I was back in France when I talked with dear Miss Cosette. She was the only one in town who knew French. My daughter Abigail can speak it, but…well, she barely speaks to me at all! Do you remember her?”
“No,” Léo said. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh don’t be sorry,” Pierre said. “Abigail only hangs out with her friends Sebastian and Sam. She probably would not have remembered you either if Sam hadn’t been talking about you all this week and last!”
“Robin mentioned Sam had been talking about me,” Léo said. “I didn’t realize he was talking about me with more than one person.”
“More than one? Try the whole town!” Pierre said with a laugh.
“I see,” Léo said, flushing slightly. He was kind of ashamed that he had barely given Sam a second thought while Sam was chatting up the whole town about him! But it had been what, 15 years since he last was in Pelican Town? Honestly, he was surprised Sam remembered him at all.
Léo ended up buying a few more seeds to plant, and some food to last him for the week.
“You should only buy your groceries from me,” Pierre had said firmly after ringing him up. “There’s another store…Joja Mart, that’s across the river. They may have cheap prices, but the quality? Not good, not at all. Nothing can compare to my goods!”
“Um, okay?” Léo said. “I’ll be sure to buy from you,” he added on quickly. Pierre beamed at him, and Léo quickly took his groceries back home. This was turning out to be a very strange day.
When night finally fell, Léo decided to take Lewis’ recommendation and go to the Stardrop Saloon. Supposedly, this was where the town really came alive, and he was eager to see it. Plus, maybe Sam would be there. It would be nice to see him after all this time, especially since Sam had been talking about him so much.
Upon entering the saloon, he saw plenty of people looking at him curiously. He introduced himself to several different people, including one man who immediately told him to go fuck himself.
“Excuse me?” Léo asked, eyebrows raised.
“You heard me,” the black haired man said, glaring at him.
“You could’ve said that a little bit--”
“Oh! Do you hear that?” the man interrupted. “It’s the sound of you shutting the fuck up!”
“Alrighty then,” Léo mumbled and turned on his heel.
As he walked away from the man, he noticed that there was a room attached to the bar that he hadn’t noticed. Deciding to investigate, Léo poked his head in. There were three adults around his age standing around a pool table. There was a man with shaggy black hair and a hoodie, a goth girl with purple hair, and a man with a messy blond mullet that somehow worked on him.
All heads turned when he walked in and Léo realized that he knew the blond man. It was Sam. And when Sam saw him, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Léo!” he cried out, arms shooting into the air in excitement.
“Put down the cue!” the goth girl snapped, as the cue nearly hit her in the side of the head. Sam put it down, a sheepish look on his face.
“Sorry Abbers,” he said.
“You grew,” Léo said, staring at Sam with wide eyes. Sam laughed.
“I’m not 13 anymore!” he said playfully. “I wasn’t gonna stay like that forever!”
“Yeah but you’re…”
“He’s tall, he knows,” the black haired man said, sounding annoyed. “No he doesn’t play basketball, no he has never played basketball, no he doesn’t want to play basketball. Yes he gets back pain, yes all the men in his family are tall. There, now all your “tall” questions are answered. Or they should be. If you have any more, keep them to yourself.”
“Sebastian!” Sam said, looking aghast. “You don’t have to be rude!”
“You get asked that shit all the time,” Sebastian grumbled. “Didn’t want you to have to go through it with this dude.” For some reason, Sebastian looked pissed off and Léo couldn’t figure out why.
“Okay, great to see you Sam,” Léo said. “I can see you and your friends are busy so I’m going to just go. See you later.”
“Wait!” Sam said, sounding frustrated. “You should stay!”
“Yeah!” the goth girl said. “Sebastian’s a dick to everyone, don’t leave yet.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “No I’m not,” he grumbled, but it seemed a bit halfhearted. Léo looked at him apprehensively and then sighed.
“Yeah alright, I’ll stay.”
Sam cheered. “Great!” he said. “The emo jerk over there is Sebastian, and this lovely lady is Abigail.”
“Nice to meet you Abigail,” Léo said. “And you too Sebastian,”
Sebastian simply nodded. Abigail rolled her eyes.
“Ignore the jackass,” she said. “He’ll come around. I think he’s jealous and thinks you might steal his best friend away. Sam has been talking about you non-stop.”
“Have not!” Sam said, face flushing. Sebastian snorted, returning to the game.
“You have,” he said, lining up the cue. He hit the ball he was aiming for and managed to sink it. Sam swore.
“You’re one away from being able to sink the 8-ball!” Sam complained.
“Not my fault you’re shit at pool,” Sebastian said, but there was a tiny smile on his face.
Abigail didn’t appear to be playing, so Léo walked over and stood by her. She smiled at him, and took a drink from her beer stein. Somehow she managed not to smudge her black lipstick even a tiny bit. And, wait a second, there wasn’t any on the rim! He wondered if it was the waterproof kind that dried on contact and didn’t rub off.
“We play here every Friday night,” she said. “And somehow Sam never manages to figure out how to win the damn game. Sebastian wins every time.”
“Sam hasn’t even won once?” Léo said, eyebrows raised.
“Not that I can remember,” Abigail said. There was a comfortable pause before she began speaking again.
“It’s cool that you’re back,” she said. “Sam was over the moon about it. He gets excited about everything you know, but this? Man, I thought you must be a celebrity or some shit.”
“Far from it,” Léo chuckled. “I was surprised he remembered me.”
“I’m not,” Abigail said. “You know, he was really sad when he stopped getting letters from you. I know you guys were kids, but those letters meant a lot. I think he still has them.”
“He…what?” Léo asked, shocked.
“It might be surprising to you, but that’s typical Sam. He holds onto stuff. You should ask him why he decided to ask to hang out with you,” she said. “Back when we were kids.”
“You could tell me,” Léo said, curiosity piqued.
“Nah,” Abigail said, watching Sebastian perfectly sink the 8-ball. “That’s not my story to tell. Seriously, ask him.”
“Yeah okay,” Léo said. “I’m gonna go get a drink, yeah?”
Abigail nodded, and Léo left the room. He approached the bar to find a kind man who looked to be his father’s age behind the counter. The man had a large mustache, which Léo had discovered was very much in fashion in Pelican Town. He had run into no less than 5 men who all had large handlebar mustaches.
“What’ll it be?” the man asked.
“Two orders of pepper poppers and two beers please!”
“Sam?” Léo asked, turning around to see who had spoken. Sure enough, Sam was standing there, wallet out. The man went to take his card, but Léo slapped Sam’s hand away, shoving his card and ID into the man’s hand.
“Gus! Don’t let him pay!” Sam said, frowning at Léo.
“No, I’m paying!” Léo said. “I came here to buy my own drink. I’ll buy yours too and the food. I don’t care.”
“No!” Sam said, and Gus watched with an amused smile. “This is your first day here. It’s a “Welcome to Pelican Town” gift, okay?”
“Sam…I can’t let you,” Léo said slowly.
“Yes you can,” Sam said firmly, and Léo relented. Gus handed him back his things, and swiped Sam’s card.
“It’ll be out in just a second!” Gus said cheerily.
“I thought you were going home,” Sam confessed as they both took seats at the bar. “Abby told me you were just going to get a drink, but I had to make sure.”
“Why do you care so much about me hanging out here?” Léo asked. “Not that I mind, I’m enjoying being with you and your friends.”
“I missed you I guess?” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s stupid. We weren’t that close or anything…but I was really excited to hear that you were moving here. Felt a little unreal, you know?”
“It’s not stupid,” Léo said. “I’m glad there’s someone in town my age that I can talk to. I hope Sebastian doesn’t care if I hang out with you.”
“Oh don’t worry about him,” Sam said. “It takes him a while to make friends so he gets kind of territorial. There’s this girl Penny, right? Well when I started hanging out with her, he got the exact same way. But when he realized she wasn’t trying to make him stop being friends with me, he was fine. It’ll be the exact same with you.”
“I see,” Léo said. “Well, I’m not going to steal you from him,” he said. “But I do want to hang out from time to time.”
“Oh yeah?” Sam said with a soft smile as Gus brought out their orders. “I’m glad to hear it. I’d love to catch up with you and see what’s changed in the last uh…14 years?”
Léo laughed. “Things definitely have changed. For better and worse.”
“Definitely for better,” Sam said, taking a drink of beer, and Léo looked at him curiously.
“What?”
“What?” Sam said right back, eyes wide. “Oh um, I just meant that things seem to be going well for you? Since you have the new farm and everything?”
“That I got because my Grandpa died,” Léo teased.
Sam went pale. “Oh shit!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Léo said with a chuckle. “I was only kidding. I mean, it is how I got it, but I’m not mad.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “I hope you’ve been liking Pelican Town okay.”
“Yeah I have,” Léo said after thinking for a moment. “Everyone here has been really nice and welcoming. Way different from the city.”
“Yeah, the people here are pretty great,” Sam said happily. “Everyone knows everyone. Which is usually awesome, but it also means that everyone knows everyone else's business. It’s tough to keep a secret in this town.”
Léo nodded. “If that’s the case, you must know the deal with that weird shrine or monument or memorial thing on my farm, right? What’s that all about?”
“Honestly?” Sam said, picking up a pepper, “Nobody really knows.”
Léo stared as Sam popped not one but two peppers into his mouth. “What do you mean ‘nobody knows?’”
“What’s it sound like I mean?” Sam said around his bite of food. “No one has a clue! It’s the town’s biggest mystery! Or at least for Abby it is. She’ll know more than me. She’s obsessed with that shrine. And the farm. Used to say it was haunted.”
Léo thought back to the letter that was still in his pocket and handed it to Sam. “Maybe it is,” he said, as Sam read it over. “I found this on the shrine.”
“Probably just Abigail playing a joke on you,” Sam said, but he didn’t look like he believed himself. “This isn’t her handwriting though.”
“Haunted, case closed,” Léo said, drinking some of his beer. “Only explanation.”
“We should show this to her!” Sam said excitedly. “She would flip!”
“Okay but…maybe tomorrow? Beer makes me sleepy and…Jesus I’m tired,” he muttered.
“Get some rest,” Sam said, as Léo stood up. “We’re talking tomorrow okay? Oh shit you don’t have my number!”
The men exchanged numbers, and Léo promised he would text Sam the moment he was finished with his morning to-do list. This was exciting, Léo thought as he made his way home. He had an actual friend here! And potentially two more? Well, maybe not Sebastian yet, but Abigail seemed to like him okay. Maybe Pelican Town wasn’t going to be that bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something wonderful.
#sdv farmer#sdv oc#sdv sam#sdv sam/male oc#stardew farmer#stardew sam#stardew oc#stardew fanfic#farmer léo#farmer oc#stardew#stardew valley#my writing#buttercup baby fic
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hi again i forgot to ask but im genuinely curious whos your fave from mental as anything sorryy <333
cara irpo32pjrbewrefjpoknflej;klnf;knlfjknlfbdklnfn marry me i swear to god!!! YOU ASKING ME THIS ACTUALLY MADE MY DAY <3!!!
it's greedy!! i know i'm gonna get really sappy and a little bit emotional talking about him because he means so much to me. he really does. i don't want to be all cliche and whatever but his music changed my life. for real. one time i went laid on the floor and listened to fundamental as anything and just sobbed. sobbed my little eyes out. because of how much his lyrics meant to me. all of his songs always have these little touches of sweetness, say a song like spirit got lost. really it’s about spooky season and ghost and ooOooOOoO HOWEVER he just HAD to include the line ‘they’ll always be a chair for you in the corner of my heart’ i mean WHAT IN TH E HONEST FUCKKKKKKKK that lines launches into the fucking sun every time i hear. i listen to that line. blackout and then play it again. like my heart honestly swells so much because it’s so sweet!! it really is!! another song which makes my brain rot is ‘let’s go to paradise’, which in itself is quite a sweet and romantic song, with its line ‘don’t you wonder about the time that you spent wasting your own when you could be wasting mine?” I MEAN WHO HONESTLY WRITES STUFF LIKE THIS!!!! he’s just a big teddy bear, a wonderful little marshmallow!! he’s also quite funny, i remember an interview where he was talking about food and dinner wines and suddenly casually dropped that he was the reason his brother broke up his six month engagement. like honey i didn’t need to know that but you know what?? i’m glad i do now!!! i also LOVE seeing the development he has as a songwriter, his songs were mostly album fillers which doesn’t mean he didn’t have a banger each album which can be seen here now GO!
get wet! - insurance man
espresso bongo - won’t let me drive
cats & dogs - too many times
creatures of leisure - bitter to swallow
fundamental - date with destiny
mouth to mouth - my door is always open to you
literally chef’s kiss to all of these songs. but really the first songs/singles were all martin’s and reg’s songs, and of course being that they are songs from this band, they slap so hard. so hard. oh my god. BUT greedy barely had any songs, at most he had three on each album up until fundamental. this is literally stretching it but to me he was kinda like the george harrison of the group where he was kinda in the background just doing his own thing and then suddenly he goes BOOM! i give you live it up, top twenty hit song in ten countries!! and while i’m at it - you’re so strong! oh? that isn’t enough??? DATE WITH DESTINY THEN BABY!! literally the first THREE SINGLES from their best selling album are from greedy. like i don’t think you understand, where is the appreciation for this sudden transformation??? my king deserves much more respect than that !!! and then greedy really does become the main guy for writing the singles, and produces banger after banger and honestly it’s such a blessing. martin once said he loved all the songs greedy has written because same same. i get u martin baby!!
look the reason i do love him so much is because with his songs, he does bring so much joy to my life especially in a period in my life where it was just awful. without going into too much detail as i will have a breakdown, live it up saved my life, because it made me feel like i was seen and loved after a very traumatic event, like greedy himself wrote it for me. like yes it is very much a pop song, in some way it can be seen as quite silly, my dad always sings ‘get it up’ rather than live it up but even HE KNOWS the connection i have with this, it’s my baby. it’s my oxygen supply, my bloodline. i saw someone say that mental as anything gave up their “quirkiness” when they released this and i got SO OFFENDED. this is literally a man talking to someone about how the whole world would literally collapse if they smiled - how can you NOT explode hearing that?? please greedy sir warm my hands against the cold <3 it’s always a song i use when talking about why music means so much to me, it’s that song that allowed me experience connection and just a reminder that everything is going to be ok. weirdest song to have that kinda emotional response to but i don’t care!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#ask#acrossthisantheap#ask game : send a band and i'll tell you my favourite member!#you guys didn't see this. you guys don't know me. don't listen to me. i don't know anything.#writing this was just he's the best i love him to me crying because i wish i told him how much he helped me.#imagine being the man would could get 800 plus words out of me.... imagine....#this is funnily enough the first one where i don't mention his looks. i think that might show you something.#anyway dropped YOUR favourite member... i'd love to know <3
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72
Monday and I have three AirPods cases each with only one pod in, the others lost to the streets, the lawns, the underbelly of my kitchen. And I know what you’re thinking, just form a pair out of the remaining pods! But all three cases represent different models / generations of AirPods, and all three are missing the pod for the left ear. I cannot currently afford to buy my way out of this conundrum and sleep at night, so am surrendering to one pod or other eventually showing itself. When I moved home I found one in the fridge, for instance. I just have to be patient
On a podcast today I listen to two men discuss why they won’t go skydiving, and it’s because of the man you have to have strapped to your back during the act, his position of authority, and it being “potentially gay”. Sometimes I feel I have regressed to school age where my tastes in humour are concerned, when things being homoerotic were flagged and shunned. I also spent so much of that era attempting to beat allegations of being gay myself, treading carefully around my female friends who thought I harboured some secret desire, and was going to masturbate in front of them after a sports match. But really I was just good at sports and was forced to wear “sensible” shoes and regularly cut my own hair. I could never fully shake the suspicions. Now people on Reddit ask if I’m trans, and my gardener sends me photos of plants that have both male and female sex organs, alongside a text that says “some info from a non binary perspective :)”. The smiley face might have hurt the most
By early evening Pilates is testing my inner thighs which by tomorrow will be destroyed. The studio’s location underneath an estate agents is a hassle when office workers walk through the obstacle course of exercise machines to take a dump every half an hour, coughing and sneezing at triple decibel. But it is also a gift, because as I move I get to hear London’s rental crisis play out above my head. “And you’re SURE they found asbestos?”, one man says into his phone, “because the paperwork says the landlord doesn’t have insurance to cover that and he’s going to need to move tenants out while the place is inspected”. “No they won’t go above £4,500 per month”, another says, “even with the communal garden. We have a couple on hold for a viewing but they have two dogs”. There is no non-smug way to mention here that I am the luckiest girl in the world to own and not rent, to be able to die from asbestos poisoning on my own terms. I have been down about needing to pause further fancifying of the house til my cash flow improves, but remind myself I have years and years in which to do it. Things have calmed enough that I’m now hell bent on finding C a place to live that isn’t with an alcoholic with ancraophobia (I googled “fear of wind”)
C has also managed, in less than 24 hours, to find evidence of my former best friend not being dead. He tells me she was alive in 2016 because her name is registered to an address, and after a couple more hours finds her academia profile as a lecturer in criminology at a university on the south coast of England. He even sends a link to her thesis on rape, which I have not yet read, but plan to. I now have an email address too, should I want to write her. I don’t blame myself for thinking she had died, since having no social media footprint whatsoever for 15 years in this day and age is unfathomably rare. Not to mention impressive, the kind of impressive that makes having even the most modest social media presence myself feel incredibly gauche. Plus the severe coeliac disease and her early predilection for drugs, half of which I did with her to seem cool, could’ve killed her easily. But she was alive the whole time, writing about rape by the sea and keeping the lowest of low profiles
Just when my energy levels drop to match the waning daylight hours and the temperature, Frieze rears its ugly head. Like New Year’s Eve, I always come to it with lofty social aspirations and, also like new years eve, they always feel too arduous and I end up watching sex and the city at home eating grapes. The Friezes have gotten gradually better over the years, the first one I ever went to I smoked a Ukrainian classmate’s very strong weed and had what I’m assuming was a panic attack at the fair’s canteen. This Ukrainian man died by suicide 2 years later, the news of which made me physically sick. The second I saw my ex boyfriend with his new girlfriend and left so quickly I lost both my earrings. The third I don’t remember. The fourth I got drunk all day and all night for a week and I had sexual interactions with not one but two contemporary artists, the latter of which asked me to pretend to be a teenager who cut herself for some kind of role play. The fifth I didn’t attend due to sobriety, the sixth I had a meltdown when V showed a new painter and someone mistook his work for mine. The sixth didn’t exist because of the pandemic, the seventh I went to a party at one of L’s employees’ homes and L said “your dress is nice and tight-fitting” but I knew long before that I wouldn’t work with him. The eighth was calm enough that I don’t remember it, and this frieze will mark the ninth. One dinner, one drinks, a play that has nothing to do with art with C called Untitled Fuck Miss Saigon. We will eat at pizza express before, where I haven’t been since I was 11. C wants to take the train 40 minutes outside of London to eat at the pizza express famous for being Prince Andrew’s flimsy alibi in the interview he gave about befriending Jeffrey Epstein. But that pizza express is right by where I went to rehab, and who needs those memories during Frieze?
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