#( i'm emotionally drained from writing this the last two days )

[oneshotnewbie]

I love love love love your writing and I wanted to ask if you could do an imagine of one of Angela Bassett's characters, It could be Queen Ramonda or Athena Grant. ❤️🥰

Authors note: Today two stories in one day. Simply because I felt like it and I'm currently in 9-1-1 fever. Enjoy reading ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The wind whipped against the windshield of the black SUV as Athena Grant rounded a bend and drove down the narrow mountain road. The low hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the car radio were the only sounds that broke the silence in the vehicle. You, her wife, sat next to her, your head leaning against the side window as you stared absently at the passing landscape. The dense coniferous forests, the mountains looming in the distance, and the endless sky provided a backdrop that was in stark contrast to her hectic life in Los Angeles.

Athena cast a quick sideways glance at you. Your usually lively eyes were surrounded by dark shadows, the tiredness clearly visible on your face. You looked like you had carried the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in many ways you had. The past few months had not only been stressful, they had been draining, harrowing, and emotionally devastating.

It had started with a particularly difficult case that had pushed Athena's police department to its limits. A series of brutal attacks, carried out with unpredictable violence, had terrified the city. Athena had, as always, been at the forefront when the perpetrators were finally caught. But the price she and her family paid for it was high. It wasn't just the endless nights and the emotional toll of constantly confronting death, it was the knowledge that her family - and especially you - had suffered from her absence and the constant feeling of threat.

You had also been going through a difficult time. You had been in the middle of a project that demanded all of your attention, but when one of your closest friends had died suddenly and unexpectedly, it had hit you hard. It was as if death had caught up with you both, no matter how hard you tried to distance yourself.

And then there was the accident.

Athena still had the sound of breaking glass and screeching tires in her ears as she took the corner too fast to follow a fleeing suspect. The shock of waking up in the hospital, the pain in her body, and most of all the horrified face of yours that she saw right after waking up was the image that was burned into her memory. Those eyes, full of worry and fear, had made it clear to her that you couldn't put yourself through this any longer.

"I'm glad we're doing this," Athena said quietly, giving you another look. Her voice was soft, but with a hint of worry as she looked at your pale face. "We need this. You need this."

You sat up a little and smiled wearily. "We both need this," you corrected gently. "After everything that happened... I thought I could just keep going, but I feel burned out."

Athena nodded and looked back at the road with concentration, the steering wheel firmly in her hands. "Me too. I've ignored it for too long. The work, the responsibility... but now we have to take care of ourselves. Our relationship."

The streets became narrower and the trees grew closer as you reached the last part of the route to the cabin. The cabin itself was secluded, as you had hoped - far from the noises of the city, from sirens, phones, the constant calls calling you back to reality. There was only silence here. Pure, uninterrupted silence.

When you reached the driveway, Athena stopped the car and looked over at the cabin. The small wooden building, hidden between the trees, seemed inviting and at the same time foreign. It had something of a refuge, a place that would give you the opportunity to find yourself again. The windows reflected the orange light of the setting sun and a light breeze made the trees dance in the wind.

You got out first and stretched extensively while Athena opened the trunk to get the luggage out. As you looked around, you couldn't deny the feeling of relief that spread in your chest. This was exactly what you both needed: no work, no constant interruptions, no threats. Just you and your wife, in the silent embrace of nature.

"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," you said as you stood next to Athena and looked at the wooden house. Your smile was a little more genuine now, not quite as heavy from the last few months. Athena put an arm around your shoulders and gently held you against her. "Yes, it's perfect. Just the two of us for a while."

You walked together to the porch and opened the door, which creaked quietly under the weight of their story. Inside, it smelled of wood, fresh air, and a little of the dust of isolation. The furnishings were simple but cozy. A fireplace, a small kitchen, a few bookshelves, and a wide sofa that looked inviting.

"I'll make us a fire," Athena said as she put the bags down. She longed for the warmth of the fireplace and your arms wrapped around her middle, mixed with the calming atmosphere that would surround you here. While you opened the windows to let in the fresh air, Athena leaned over the fireplace and began to stack the wood.

It didn't take long until the fire was crackling and the flames were reflected in the room. You were now standing at one of the windows and looking outside. Your eyes were fixed on the forest, but your thoughts seemed far away.

Athena stepped behind you, her arms wrapping around your body as she placed light kisses on your neck. "Hey," she said softly, briefly moving away from the thin skin of your neck to place another kiss on your shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

You took a deep breath and placed your hands over hers, tilting your head to the side as your eyes closed for a moment. "About everything that happened. About us. I don't think I've fully processed it all yet."

Athena pulled you closer to her front. "We don't have to do this right now," she whispered in your ear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. "We're here to take our time. No rush, no expectations."

You snuggled up to her, and for a moment it seemed as if the silence of the forest was calming your inner turmoil as well. You stood there, just the two of you, while the sunset sent the last golden rays over the horizon.

"I love you," you finally said, almost whispering, as if you didn't want to break the silence. Athena held you even closer, a smile enchanting her lips. "And I love you. We can do this. Together.“

ᕚ---ᕘ

The night was deep and silent when Athena woke up. The fire in the fireplace had long since gone out, and only the cold ash and a few faintly glowing logs bore witness to the fact that it had once been warm and alive. She lay there, listening to the gentle breathing of you, wrapped tightly in a blanket in her arms, sleeping soundly.

It was the first time in a long time that she had woken up in such silence - no cell phone ringing at five in the morning because a new emergency had arisen. No gunshots or screams echoing in her mind, no nightmares of chases and injuries. Just the gentle whisper of the wind and the steady breathing of her wife.

Athena let her gaze wander around the room. The faint moonlight that fell through the window bathed everything in a silver light. It was a peaceful, almost unreal scene. And yet she felt a certain restlessness within herself. She had gotten so used to the chaos and constant movement of her life that the sudden silence was almost frightening.

She closed her eyes briefly and focused on the here and now. This was what she wanted, what you had both decided on. A time out. A break from the world outside to find yourselves again, and above all to find each other again.

She carefully pushed you off her and sat up. She was careful not to wake you, although she knew that you were hard to disturb in these deep phases of sleep. Athena got up quietly and crept to the patio door. The fresh night air hit her as she stepped outside.

The silence was overwhelming. The forest stretched around the cabin like a dark, calming blanket. No light from a nearby town, no traffic. Just the stars glittering above the trees and the whispering of the leaves. Athena took a deep breath and felt her shoulders slowly relax.

As she stood there looking into the darkness, she felt someone quietly open the door behind her. You stepped out onto the veranda and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. "Can't you sleep either?" you asked gently and stood next to her. Your gaze also wandered over the forest, and for a moment you stood there in silence, next to each other, both lost in thought.

"It's... unusual to have so much peace and quiet," Athena finally admitted. "I think I've forgotten what it's like to just stand still. Not always being ready for the next thing that will tear me out of sleep."

You nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. The city, our life... it has kept us both so busy. But here... it almost feels foreign, doesn't it? But I think that's what we have to learn: to calm down again."

Athena sighed and leaned on the railing of the porch. "It was hard for both of us. I thought if I was strong enough, if I could control everything, it would help us. But it only pulled us further apart."

You stepped closer, put a hand on her arm and looked at her lovingly. "You always had to be strong, that's a part of you. And that's exactly why I love you. But... maybe it's time for you to allow yourself to be weak. That we both allow ourselves to just be. Without pressure, without expectations."

The words hit Athena deeply. It was exactly what she had avoided for so long: showing weakness. In her job, in your relationship - she always wanted to be the strong one, the one who supported everyone else. But now, here in the silence of the forest, that was what she needed. To let go.

"Maybe you're right," Athena murmured softly and pulled you into her arms. She laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort she found in that simple moment. There was no grand gesture, no dramatic moment of realization - just the silence, the feeling of you in her arms, and the deep, unwavering love she felt for you.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" you asked after a moment of absolute silence. "I think there's something calming about the forest. It might be good to just walk without a destination." Athena hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. "Yes, that sounds good. Let's go."

You both slipped on your shoes and pulled on your jackets. The forest welcomed you with open arms as you walked along the narrow path that led away from the cabin. The trees, dark and tall, seemed to be a silent guardian of your path, and the ground beneath your feet was soft and springy.

You were silent for a while, taking in the nature around you. Athena felt her thoughts gradually calming down. Out here, far from the city, the falls and the crowds, she found a peace she hadn't expected.

"Do you remember when we first met?" you finally broke the silence, your voice a quiet smile. "You were so serious. Always so controlled, so... aloof."

Athena snorted slightly, a wide grin on her face. "I remember. I thought I could have everything under control. But then you came and messed up my whole system."

You laughed softly and looped an arm under hers. "I think that was my plan."

Athena paused and pulled you gently to her side. "You gave me so much, you know that? You made me see things differently. You showed me that I don't always have to be in control."

You looked at her with those gentle, loving eyes that Athena had come to know so well over the years. "And you showed me what it means to be truly strong. Not just for others, but for yourself."

You stood in silence for a moment, only the gentle sound of the wind around you. It felt like you were alone in the world - no past, no pain, no fears. Just the two of you and nature holding you in its silent embrace.

"Let's start over from here," Athena said finally. "It won't be easy, and we won't suddenly solve all our problems. But here... here we can find ourselves again."

You smiled and placed a hand on Athena's chest, right above her heart, to hear it beating for you. "I think this is the best plan we've ever had."

You continued walking, hand in hand, along the path. The sun slowly began to appear over the treetops, bathing the forest in a warm light. Every step felt lighter, every movement less burdened by the weight of the past.

In this quiet, peaceful environment, you and Athena found not only the time to recover from the wounds of the past year, but also the opportunity to discover your love in a new way - far from the dangers of everyday life, in the simplicity of nature and in the silence of the forest, where your hearts beat in harmony again.

[fairly-linked]

Presence (Twilight x GN!Reader) 🖤✨

A/N: Two fics in the same 24 hours??? Am I okay??? Yes, I'm on vacation. I have energy to write lmao. Eat it up while you can folks. Enjoy! 💖💖💖💖💖

TW: Mentions of depression, self-isolation and general stress on the reader.

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Twilight noticed you'd been a little... off lately. A lot of things had happened over the last few days, and everyone was a bit on edge; the whole team being ambushed around almost every turn, you having trouble keeping up due to some kind of medical issue he wasn't understanding (which terrified him, of course, though he'd struggle to hide it for fear of overwhelming you), and not to mention Wars' and Legend's near constant bickering over trivial matters due to all the stress... But your breaking point seemed to come when the postman delivered a letter to you.

He'd watched as you read it, everyone else watching on as well as it seemed like the emotion drained from your very being. It worried him beyond words. His heart shattered at the sight of you so visibly... emotionally numb. And he'd asked if you were alright, but he knew he could only do so much-- he'd never want to push you.

So instead, he did what he thought was best: he managed to convince the Old Man to let the chain stay at an inn for a few days to give you time to recover from... whatever was going on with you. Twilight soon learned that even though Time didn't show it, he also seemed troubled by your sudden change in demeanor.

He was very thankful now more than ever that the Old Man was a good one at heart. If he hadn't been, the Rancher knew he wouldn't have let you rest.

So here they sit, him and the Old Man, together with the rest of the chain in the inn's dining hall for dinner. The only empty chair was yours, he noted with growing anxiety. You hadn't shown your face all day today...

"...Are they still asleep?" Time questioned him softly. "...This isn't good. They shouldn't be alone when they're feeling like this... It only serves to make things worse in the long run," he sighs.

Twilight nodded. He knew you had a habit of isolating when you weren't feeling your usual self, but... skipping all three meals today was unacceptable. He stood from the table suddenly, without finishing his own food; he'd been so worried about you he couldn't eat much of it anyway.

"I'm... I'm gonna go check on 'em," he states firmly, unable to mask the concern in his voice.

To his surprise, the Old Man didn't try to stop him; Time simply nodded, speaking softly.

"...Why don't you fix them a plate and bring it up? I know they may not want to eat, but even something is better than nothing. They need their strength..."

The Rancher nodded again, fixing you a a decent portion and bringing it up to your room.

When he reached your room, the one that the Old Man was kind enough to let you share with Sky (someone he knew wouldn't bother you)... He paused, his ears twitching slightly at the sound of soft sobs coming from the other side. His heart broke, and a lump formed in his throat; he was so worried about you. He hated to see you in such a state... Nevertheless, he knocked softly.

"(Y/n)? ...Can I come in...?"

The crying hushed immediately, and your shaky voice reached his ears. "W-What do you want...?"

He paused, trying to think of the best way to respond.

"...(Y/n), we're worried about you, darlin'. Can I come in please?"

...Silence. He sighed; he knew he shouldn't barge in on you, but--

"...Fine..."

He let out a sigh of relief at your answer. He opened the door softly, carrying the plate of still-warm food; the room was dark. No lights, the curtains were drawn... Oh, you poor thing, he thinks to himself.

"...I'm turnin' on the light, sweet thing," he says, flicking on the light and watching as your figure huddles deeper under the blanket. He sighs, setting the food down on the nightstand and taking a seat beside you on the bed.

"...Can I ask what's been goin' on with you lately? You've been so sad, and it worries me to see you like this, hun. It worries all of us..." he says softly, placing his hand on your hair and rubbing the top of your head softly with his thumb.

He could've sworn your voice broke a little as you speak again in a softer tone than ever. "...I don't wanna talk about it..."

He sighs, but nods. "...That's okay, darlin'. I won't push you to talk if you don't want to..." he mumbles, still stroking your hair.

"...Can I at least stay here for a bit? I haven't seen your pretty face all day, sweetums."

He hears you sniffle, but he can see you nod. It's hard to make out at first, with your figure huddled deeply under the comforter, but he smiles when he realizes you'd said yes.

He shifts, now sitting cross-legged on the bed beside you, his hand remaining on your head. He sighs, thinking about what he could do to make you feel better.

...He'd be lying if he said he didn't wish you were roomed with him for the night. He wants to make sure you're okay, but he also knows that Sky is perfectly capable of being there for you should you want it.

...And he says 'want', because goddesses know you definitely need it.

"...You feel like eatin'?" he asks softly, voice remaining low as he leans a little closer. He sighs again when he hears you mumble a weak "Not really..."

"...Yeah, I figured..."

He sighs for what now has to be the eighteenth time. He wants you to eat; he knows you haven't all day, and it's past 5 PM now...

"...I know you don't want to, doll, but... could you at least take a little bite? For me? Pretty please?" he asks as sweetly as he can muster.

He hears you sigh, and for a split second he's worried he's pushed you too far; but to his pleasant surprise, you sit up, reaching for the plate.

Heh. Can't say no to me, can you lovebug?

He smiles; the way your hair's all messy and the tired look on your face makes you cute, but in a heart-breaking sort of way. He watches intently as you slowly pick up the fork, poking at the food; and his smile grows more as you finally take a bite.

He places his hand back on the top of your head. "Good pup," he chuckles softly, laughing a little more as you huff at him.

You must've finally realized you were hungry, because he sits in silence for several minutes as you manage to finish off a little more than half the plate.

"There you go," he says softly with a tender smile. "Feelin' a little better?"

You nod, setting the plate back on the nightstand and pulling the blanket back up to your shoulders.

"...You're free to go back to sleep if you want, darlin'. I just wanted to check up on you," he says, subconsciously leaning a little closer to your face as his hand drops to your shoulder. "...Do you want me to stay here, or should I leave?"

"You can stay..." you say softly. He's overjoyed at your response, grinning like a lovestruck dumbass (because he totally is. Not that he's admitting it or anything. Not at all.)

"...I can do that. But you're cuddlin' with me whether you like it or not, lovebug."

He laughs as you huff again, rolling your eyes this time. "Fine..."

His grin only grows, lying down and pulling you down with him. Gently, he pulls your head onto his chest, resting his hand on the top of your head as he noses your hair.

"See? I'm not so bad," he chuckles softly.

"I guess not..." you sigh, and he runs his finger through your hair.

"...Don't worry, sweet thing. Sometimes you just need someone else to take care of you when you can't do it yourself....

"...And I'll be that person if you'll just let me. Don't worry your pretty little head about a thing, darlin'. I'm here..." he says tenderly, stroking your hair.

He's so warm and his presence is so comforting, it's not long before you're on the verge of sleep again. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest.

The last thing you note in your half-asleep state, is that you could've sworn you felt his lips on your forehead.

"Sleep, little lovebug. I'll be here when you wake up."

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Tagging friends so they see and maybe are proud of me lmao

@trippygalaxy @the-cucco-nuggie (you might like this one. I know how much you like hylian jacob black from twilight)

[unpickled-olive]

brain is healing

I've always been depressed, but before grad school, I had interests. I was teaching myself woodworking, building things, drawing plans, and restoring rusty hand planes. I had bought my first ever digital microphone and was recording (bad) music. I was practicing the violin on a semi-regular basis.

I also had hyperfixations. I always loved the experience of being obsessed with something for a few weeks at a time, even if I felt empty when the feeling passed. Spending three weeks learning about homesteading, or being a travel therapist, or rollerskating, or learning Arabic.

Grad school wasn't a decision I made out of passion but out of necessity. After getting my Bachelor's in Linguistics (not a hireable degree but an extremely interesting one), I went as far I could with entry-level jobs before going broke and having a mental breakdown. So I decided that if I couldn't find a job I was passionate about, I would get one that where I could 1. decently support myself, 2. do something meaningful for others, and 3. have the freedom to pursue passions outside of work. My dream job became one where I worked 3.5 days a week.

The conclusion was to build upon my background in linguistics and go into healthcare via speech-language pathology.

But when grad school started, I noticed how quickly all of my passion evaporated. Over night, there was suddenly no more planning, drawing, violin-making.

From week 2 to week 100 of school, I didn't have any thoughts about it. I was emotionally drained and too busy to think about enjoying life. I felt like I'd sold my soul for a stable job and when summer and, winter breaks didn't allow me to do anything but sleep, I figured I would be like that forever.

The one creative thing I did that entire time was write a short little sci-fi story. While trying to read a research paper in the student lounge, I suddenly had an idea and deleted the notes I was taking. For three hours, I did nothing but sit there and type. But due to how inundated in academia I was, it was both super morbid (a story about how Earth is the only planet where life degrades and dies due to ageing) and super academic (it took the form of a research paper written by horrified alien observers). I was so in that world that the only thing I could write had an abstract, an intro, a methodology, a results section, and a discussion.

I'm currently 4 months free of grad school (I say like I'm in recovery), and I've noticed that passion and interest are slowly dripping back into my life. I've spent the last few days reading about Proto-Indo-Europeans, just for fun. I read a BOOK. I'm contemplating building an English joiner's bench. I'm even motivated enough to post something personal on a blog no one will ever read.

These days, learning feels like it takes more effort than it did before. I have this feeling that there isn't room in my brain for any more things, so I shouldn't get too excited. It feels like that, and like the inertia of not having exercised in so long. But I notice this feeling lessening with each month.

This is all to say: grad school couldn't kill my soul forever—it could only kill it for two and a half years.

[veilder]

please excuse my word vomit but I shortened the hell out of my caption to avoid being annoying and your tags on my art sent me into a frenzy haha

so my favorite pre relationship dynamic for convin (and in my current fic) they start out as enemies with benefits who accidentally develop feelings but are in denial and know the smart thing to do is to stop and so every time they hook up is the last time (until the next time). and you’re right I drew gavin with the pained expression bc he’s the first one to realize his feelings are feelings but he doesn’t think he deserves connor and he thinks connor wants this to stay physical and that hurts but 1. he thinks he deserves the hurt and 2. he’ll take what he can get for as long as he can get it (hahaha ow). I’m allergic to happy endings in my own writing but I wholly support your happily ever after 😄

also no pressure at all just floating the idea but I’d be so down if you ever wanted to do a collab :] anyways yeah I’m happy you liked my pic and your comments always bring me joy, keep on being wonderful

Omggggggg, what a great ask to get!!! Thank you so much for sending this! 🤩🤩🤩 So, one, your idea behind your art is wonderful and fits them both perfectly. Two idiots getting in over their heads and catching feelings? Yep, that's them, lol. Although, I'm already imagining a happy ending for the two of them, even in that scenario, so whoops! XD I know for me, when I saw your art I was thinking that they were set to be separated. Specific scenarios were still up in the air (i.e. investigation gone awry, some sort of terminal condition, human!AU college fling, historical!AU, etc), but there would be some sort of circumstance that would drive the two of them apart. And this would be the scene of them making the most of their last days together, with Connor throwing his whole self into it while Gavin, in an effort to make the inevitable separation hurt less, begins to withdraw, even though it hurts him. And it would lead to a really messy breakup where they both say hurtful things and are just left with so many regrets. But then... there would be some sort of timeskip and they would meet again, both very changed now but never forgetting the impact the other had on their life. And again, something would force them together, whether it's work or some sort of mystery or even just running into each other over and over again. And they would both realize that the other hasn't really changed as much as they initially thought. That he's still the man they fell in love with. And that those feelings are far from dead. And eventually, things would rekindle in a burst of passion and long-held feelings and it would be terrible and beautiful and cathartic and so, so painful all at once. They'd wake to a morning of regrets and, in their fear, again try to sever ties. But they'd be miserable about it and all the life would drain from their days. That burst of brightness they'd slowly brought back to each other has once again vanished and they're both left in the dark. And then, idk, the plot would pull them together one final time and they'd get to have their moments of peril and heroics and emotional confessions. And finally, finally they'd confess their feelings for each other. The feelings they've had for so, so long. And they'd both realize what absolute dipshits they've both been, that they've both felt the same way for years and were just too emotionally constipated to do anything about it. And then I'd probably undercut it with some sort of big BLAMO moment where one of them gets taken out by the bad guy (I've decided that there's a bad guy now XD) and they'd be dying in the other's arms. And you'd think that that's it! That, after so much build up and them finally getting on the same page with each other, that they won't get their happily ever after after all. But then idk, there'd be some clever deus ex machina I seeded into the story early on that comes through for them and they both live and the bad guy goes to jail and everything is GOOD! And then sappy epilogue. XD ...Ugh, see? Look what you're making me consider here with your beautiful art?! I'm plotting. Multi-chapter plotting! UGH! 😫😫😫 No, but seriously, I adore that art and felt so damn inspired when I saw it? I wish I'd had more energy to do something with that, but alas! I was just getting off work and it was very late. 😓😓😓 BUT THEN YOU SENT THIS AND MENTIONED A COLLAB AND NOW IT'S ALSO VERY LATE HERE BUT I'M JUST 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 BECAUSE DAMN SON, I WOULD LOVE TO COLLAB?! Like, I legit cannot make any promises, I've had the worst case of writer's block ever now for a couple years and counting. But even if it's just, idk, discussing ideas or chatting about these idiots or something, I'd so be down for it! Definitely feel free to hmu whenever!!! I'd love to chat!!! :D

[irritablepoe]

wait wait my tiny brain cannot stop thinking of Poe trapping Francis in a novel........I am having....conceptsuwhwushu

I'm not familiar with the limitations of Poe's ability, however if he can create more than one story in a novel, I think the most torturous format he could write then transport Francis into would be in a short story collection!! And in all these stories, it's either his wife or his daughter is at stake, and in these stories, they don't know Francis like he knows them, for Francis they are still his loved ones, but to them Francis is just a stranger.

One of the first stories I think would be deliciously fucked up which i want to be the first story he encounters is waking up to a missing poster in his hand, there's a picture of his daughter, the same name (save for the last name) and face and it says that she has been missing for two days up in the mountains, he looks around and there are posters plastered on poles that there have been sightings of the girl so hope is sparked in his heart, he searches for her, muddy and grimy and tattered with tiny scars until he stumbles across a shrine with the familiar shoes her daughter loved to wear when she was alive left on the rim of a shallow well--without hesitation he dashes and jumps into it to find his daughter--however, upon embracing her her intonation seems different, as if she has only experienced having a tongue and the human language--he asks her if she's okay, and her eyeball just slowly swells itself out of its socket, into her palm while her hair rapidly balds and sadly say "Was it obvious??? Sorry. First body. Sorry. You looking for owner [sticks the eyeball back while smiling with bloopdy teeth]? owner me now!!"

(can u tell i just started chapter one of the summer hikaru died and already went insane hahah)

Then since he found her too late, her daughter died already (again oomf) instead of the story repeating he will move on to the next one and it's another fucked up one!! and until he can guess who the killer is he will keep jumping from one short story to another!!

(sorry if this is too weird UWUSUWSUHWS)

poe could do a WHOLE lot of damage to fitzgerald if he wanted to, and omg if he were to see his deceased child in that novel dhfsjkdhfjksdhjf he'd probably not even want to leave (or at least consider it yk, i don't think he'd actually stay)

AND HOLY SHIT your mind - i mean edgar allan poe was a horror writer so it would not be too far off if bsd poe would just go full on horror in a book as well

also idk poe's limits to his ability as well tho i think lue suggested that poe could easily draw fitzgerald into a novel world again, i mean he'd have to read his emails eventually and then oops, trapped in a novel for a month or two again :D and that would go over and over again, i think that'd be more emotionally draining than just jumping from short story to short story as well, bc you are outside of these novels FINALLY but then you're immediately thrown back in. eheh :3

and that'd not too weird at all, dw <3 thank you for the ask and omg i'm so sorry for keeping you waiting from answering this, but i wanted to be in a fitzgerald & poe conflict mood again when i answer this yk, this is wonderful😌

[k--havok]

sorry ive been dead for the past week+ a LOT has happened again so complaining under the cut i suppose.

2024 keeps giving me whiplash and it's like I cannot get a break. I finished my TMS therapy finally and like. I have no idea if I am doing better or not but at least its over with. I'm dreaming again which is nice. And I finally got my sleeping pills back but I've been off them for so long that I now have to readjust to them and its been kinda difficult. Pair that with all the sleep debt I've accumulated and it's been a bit rough. At the very least this is the first weekend I've had in over a month where I have not been taking 3 hour long naps every day so that's good.

What's not good is the fact my estranged aunt on my dad's side of the family died in what looks to be an OD. Horrible way to go. I was not close to her at all as my dad's side of the family is certifiably nuts and I want nothing to do with them, but now there's an issue with inheritance regarding my aunt. Her older sister, and my other aunt, is supposed to contact me regarding said inheritance as its supposed to be 50/50 but she has not yet. Which is no surprise really as she is a very greedy person and will try and cut me out of whatever I am owed. So I may have to get a lawyer or something. Idk. My mom is going to help me out with this but this is just another headache I will have to deal with. Luckily, due to the TMS therapy, my anxiety is managed so I'm not panicking about this yet but. Still. I just want this to be over with.

My patients at work have also been difficult. Not personality wise but they've just been so complicated. They come to us half-dead on their last legs and it's heartbreaking but with all the comorbidities I can only do so much to help them. I ain't jesus and I cannot perform miracles. I get home from work and just pass out in bed since I'm so emotionally and mentally drained. It doesn't help that I've found out that some of my previous patients have died not long after seeing them and I really do not need to know that. I do not need existential dread at 2:00 AM while staring at brain waves.

Aaand I've just. Been trying to rest I think. I've been so stressed out these past few months that the little brain power I have left over has been going to video games, cooking, and managing my kitten. Writing has been pushed out of the way which is sad as I do have ideas and think about my blorbos often. But I cannot seem to put any of that mental energy into like. Actually fleshing out their stories. Instead I think about stupid shit or smut which is lovely but unhelpful.

Hopefully I'll come back from this mini hiatus soon. Sometimes an epiphany will hit me like a train and I'll jump in feet-first back into writing and interacting here. But it may take a while, as I am an extreme introvert and it's hard for me to interact with more than one or two people at a time.

I'll just. Continue to work on it through therapy and hopefully that will help me along.

[sawtastic-sideblog]

I am so sorry to anon. I meant to save what I posted as a draft and it posted while I was taking a test. Anyway here's the finished one!

Contains spoilers for Downton Abbey season 3 and Adam is a LotR fan in this I jsut forgot to write it in.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Adam climbs, ready to see his beloved children. The last few days have been rough for him. He's had to follow a doctor that has been cheating on his wife. It's emotionally draining.

He fumbles the his keys and drops them to the floor with a loud clang! Adam curses under his breath as he bends to pick up his keys. He hears a door open to his right, revealing a short plump woman with green eyes that shimmer in the dim hallway lighting.

"Oh, Adam! I thought that was you! How are you, darlin'?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Ortega. How are you? And Mr. Ortega?"

"We're both good. We wanted to invite you over for dinner next weekend. My family is flying in, his family is driving up, and we're gonna have some friends over too."

"Oh, um, thank you, Ms. Ortega, but I don't know. I'm not big on crowds and in small spaces. Not really my scene."

"How 'bout I bring you a plate? My family is bringing the southern cuisine and Miguel's family is bringing the authentic Mexican cuisine. Abuelita is making tamales. My mama's making her chicken and dumplins and I'm making my blueberry pie you like so much."

"That sounds greats, Mrs. O. Thanks."

"It's not a problem dear. Oh and I think my daddy is bringing you some old camera equipment his daddy gave to him. He said somethin' about one of th first cameras ever made being passed through the generations. He likes you, son."

"Oh, wow, I couldn't accept that."

"You will. Daddy is very convincing. Especially in his old age."

"Eighty one isn't that old."

Mrs. Ortega laughs and turns to walk back into her apartment. Adam jams his key into the lock as his neighbor calls out to him.

"Give some love to Merry and Pippin for me?"

"Of course, I will. Goodnight, Mrs. Ortega."

"Goodnight, Adam."

Adam walks into his apartment and throws his keys in the bowl of the table by the door. He sets his bag down on the table as he toes off his shoes. He scans the open area of his apartment in the light from the standing lamp by the wall.

"Mer? Pip? Where are you?"

He makes his way into the kitchen and grabs a can and a bag of cat food. He turns around to pick up two ceramic food bowls. One blue with 'Merry' etched into it with white paint making the letters pop and the other is a matching green one with 'Pippin etched into the side. Birthday gifts from Mrs. Ortega. She always treats Adam, Merry, and Pippin like her own kids. The Ortegas never had children of their own but have nieces and nephews who come to visit sometimes. Mia, the thirteen year old daughter of Mrs. Ortega's sister, has taken an interest in photography. Everytime she visits, Adam gets a knock on his door. He's more than happy to talk with Mia, go on walks with her, her brothers, aunt, and uncle to take pictures of the world around them, and show her how to develop pictures in his home red room.

Adam turns back around to see a figure sniffing at the bag of food. A pair or yellow eyes look up at him expectantly. Adam smiles warmly.

"Hi, honey," he says as he walks to the counter and sets the bowls down. He holds his finger up and moves it towards a small pink nose. "Boop."

A small 'mrrrhp' is the response Adam gets before the cat headbutts Adam's hand, demanding to have attention. He happily obliges and scratches the cat's head.

"Hello, my little Merry-baby," Adam coos. Merry rubs against Adam's chest as he opens the can of food and halves it into the bowls. He adds some dry food with it. His cats will eat anything and, somehow, Mrs. Ortega has a lot of cat food and brings it to him. He doesn't complain. Free food for the cats.

Merry, the cat currently sitting on the counter watching as Adam walks towards the mat again, is an orange short-haired tabby. She has yellow eyes that are always full of mischief. She is two years old and is so full of energy. She loves to cuddle and always finds her a seat somewhere on or near Adam. She was sitting outside of the hospital one day as Adam was leaving. In his very drowsy, tired, and sick mind he decided to try to catch her and ran out into the middle of the road. He was almost hit by a bus, but a tall, blonde man pulled him out of the way. When Adam went to protest the man shut him down, grabbed the cat, shoved it into his arms, and told him to go home. Adam went back to the hospital for a dislocated shoulder a few months later and met the man again. A doctor by the name of Lawrence Gordon. Adam was smitten by him and asked for his number while under th influence of painkillers. Dr. Gordon laughed and asked about the cat.

Pippin, who is currently no where to be seen, is a short-haired tuxedo cat. He's nine years old and likes to lay around in the sun all day. He's still spry in his old age and is often found perched at the top of the cat tower. Yet, another gift from the Ortegas that was made by Mr. Ortega himself. He's been with Adam for a long time, since he was six months old. Adam found him in the dumpster behind a bar. He was trying to hook up with some girl who was so drunk she couldn't keep the contents of her stomach inside. Adam heard a small sound coming from the dumpster and peeked inside. He saw a plastic bag moving around. Curious and slightly drunk, Adam reaches for it. When he opensnit he finds a very small and malnourished cat. His yellow eyes wide in fear. Adam looks back at the woman and decides to call her a cab. He waits with her when her friends come out and gush over the kitten and thank him for the cab. Adam gets home and looks up how to take care of a kitten. He was terrified because he could hardly take care of himself.

"Food time, babies," Adam calls. Merry leaps off the counter and walks over to her bowl. The sound of old joints popping and the shaking of the cat tree from the cat atop of it stretching. Adam walks over to the wooden tower covered in soft fabric and puts a hand out. The old cat bumps Adam's hand with his head. Adam scoops him up and cradles him in his arms. He walks towards the untouched bowl of food as he peppers kisses all over Pippin's head. He gently places the old cat by his bowl and walk to his bedroom to change into his pajamas. His phone vibrates in his hand as he walks toward the living room.

"Hey, babe," Adam greets his friend.

"Adam, I've told you not to call me that."

"Aw, come on, Larry, everyone deserves to be called 'babe' every once in a while."

"Yes and I have a wife who calls me that," Lawrence counters. Despite the annoyance in his voice, Adam can hear a smile.

"Whaddya want, Larry? I gotta fix food and cuddle cats."

"Alison wanted to see if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night."

"How about you guys come over. Diana loves the cats and the Ortega's are having a dinner party next week, so I was thinking about having them over for dinner before then. I won't feel bad if they bring me a plate after that," Adam jokes. He hears Lawrence chuckle before he continues. "I also have this recipe Zep from work sent me. Looks pretty good. And it comes from Zep. He's an amazing cook."

"I have to agree with you. Let me run it Alison."

"Let me talk to her. I'm very persuasive."

"Okay, hold on. I have to go find her," Lawrence laughs.

"Hey, babe," Alison's voice rings down the line. Pippin hops onto the couch and bumbles his way over to Adam, sitting beside him with paws on his thigh. Adam's hand immediately goes to Pippin's head and scratched behind his ear. The cat purrs in appreciation.

"Hi, Ali. Adam is on the phone to talk about dinner plans. You're on speaker, Adam."

"Hi, Adam."

"Hey, Alison. Lawrence said you wanted to have dinner together tomorrow night. I was thinking you guys could come over and, hi, Merry, I'll have the Ortegas over. Zep gave me a new recipe," Adam explains and greets his cat by petting her head.

"Sounds great. Six work for you?"

"Perfect. I'll let Mrs. O know."

"Need us to bring anything?"

"Just your dazzling smile and Larry's charming personality. Oh, and Diana. Can't forget her."

"They won't forget me!" A small voice yells indignantly. Adam laughs and grabs the remote from the coffee table. He reclines back and props his feet on the table. Merry walks down Adam's legs to the coffee table and just sits staring out at nothing on the other side of the room. Adam's hand finds Pippin's side and pats.

"Did your hear anything, dear?" Lawrence asks, amusement dripping off his words.

"No, did you?"

"Nope," Lawrence says.

"Adam! Tell mommy and daddy that I'm right here!"

"I think there's an intruder in your house, Larry."

"Me too. I'll go take a look."

"He's on the hunt," Alison says. Adam hears the grin in her voice and can imagine Lawrence stalking around the kitchen and living room of his house. He hears high pitched squeals and laughter coming from his phone. His eyes scan the rows of television shows and movies on his screen. He chooses his guilty pleasure show. 'Downton Abbey' has been his thing for years. He, Alison, Diana, and Mrs. Ortega often have watch parties. When he has a bad day, likes to cuddle up under a pile of blankets, eat his weight in pizza, and cuddle the cats. "Do you have food, Adam?"

"Yeah, I ordered pizza."

"Good. Just making sure you're eating. Lawrence told me about your bad day."

"Yeah, it has sucked, but I have my kittens to cheer me up."

"Have a better night."

"Thanks, Al. I appreciate you. and Larry. And the rugrat." "Goodnight, Adam. We love you." "Bye, Adam!" "Bye, Addy!"

Lawrence and Diana both shout at the same time. The corners of Adam's lips curl up at the use of his nickname Diana gave him. He bids them goodnight and hangs up. The doorbell rings and he stands up, much to Pippin's displeasure. Adam brings the pizza over to the coffee table and turns on the show. Hours later, Adam is still watching the show. Tears stream down his face as Tom Branson clings to Sybil.

"Please, don't leave me, Love," Tom begs.

"Don't leave him, Sybil," Adam whispers as he wipes tears away. Merry stretches from her spot in Adam's arms, her head in the crook of his neck and his arm cradling her like a baby. His other hand returns to Pippin's back. Pippin is laying in a loaf on Adam's thigh. He is facing the television, staring in the direction of it, almost like he is watching as Sybil's life fades and, once again, the Crawley family is thrown into the arms of grief.

"Fuck," Adam sobs, burying his face into Merry's side. Merry's paws finds Adam's head as she starts to chew on Adam's hair. She twists and turns and hops from Adam's arm onto the arm of the couch. He picks up Pippin and pulls his feet out form under him and onto the floor. The episode ends and Adam turns off the television.

"I think it's time for bed, kitterinos," Adam says as he stands and stretches. He wipes at his face as he goes though and turns off all the lights. He goes to brush his teeth, cats following him all the way. The orange rubs her face against his ankles.

"Meow," Pippin calls from the bedroom door.

"Ahh," Adam says back. Pippin responds with another meow and Adam responds with another lowercase scream. They go on like this until Adam goes into the bedroom.

Once in bed, Merry finds her way to the second pillow on the bed and curls up facing Adam. Pippin finds his rightful place on Adam's chest as Adam scrolls on Youtube to find a video to listen to as he goes to sleep. "Goodnight, my sweet boy. Goodnight, my sweet girlie. My pretty kitties."

He closes his eyes and runs his hands over Pippin's back. The old cat purrs and does the little paw thing that cats do over Adam's ribs. Merry presses her head against Adam's head. He smiles and reaches his free hand up to pet her. She spins in a circle and lays with her face on Adam's shoulder, one paw tucked under her and the other on Adam's shoulder. Adam angles his head towards Merry's back and lays his face on her hip.

He feels so loved by these two small creatures. They put all their trust in him and he puts his own happiness with them. The three of them are a family. They all love and trust each other. This is the most love Adam has felt in his life. He can say that these two make his life complete and he doesn't know what he'd do without them.

Adam is lulled to sleep by the sound of both of the cats purring and Shayne Topp's voice reading Reddit stories.

[sudoscience]

[This has been in my drafts since August 2020. I don't want to delete it, but I've long since forgotten where I was going with it. I'm going to post it just to get it out of my drafts. It's obviously not finished since I don't appear to have reached any conclusions, but maybe someone will find it interesting/useful?]

I feel like it's been a while since I've posted anything of my own, and since most of my writing concerns Deltarune, I thought I'd shake things up and discuss Undertale instead. So, let's unpack Asriel's statement that, "Chara wasn't really the greatest person" and what, if anything, that can tell us about Chara's moral character.

Be forewarned that this will involve a discussion of the exact manner in which Chara died. To put it very lightly, it was not pleasant. Frankly, it's something I wish I could unlearn. (TW: Suicide)

Whether or not Chara was evil is obviously still a hotly contested issue, and Asriel's statements about them play a key role in arguments on either side. Asriel is the one who tells us they weren't the greatest person, but I feel like something many people overlook is that a lot of the canon surrounding Chara is relayed to us via Asriel, either directly or through the True Lab tapes, and Asriel's biases should be taken into account.

Consider that Asriel's last memories of Chara were not happy ones. First, he watched them die, but that doesn't do it justice. They didn't die quickly and peacefully—they suffered. They were likely in extreme pain, probably for several hours, and Asriel saw this. His best friend chose to do this to themselves, and Asriel had to be there in order to absorb Chara's soul. (You can't see this, but I'm actually having a really hard time just thinking about this, so imagine how bad it would have been for Asriel.)

It's strongly implied by the tapes in the True Lab that Chara committed suicide by poisoning themselves with buttercups, which is not a peaceful way to go. Symptoms of poisoning include bloody diarrhea, excessive salivation, colic, and severe blistering of the mouth, mucous membranes and gastrointestinal tract. Contact with a wounded plant causes itch, rashes or blistering on contact with the skin or mucosa. Ingesting the toxin can cause nausea, vomiting, dizziness, spasms, acute hepatitis, jaundice, or paralysis. We're told directly by the game that they died the day after becoming ill; it could be they poisoned themselves at night and died that morning, or it could have been even longer, but the point is that there were likely several hours between the initial onset of symptoms and their eventual death. (I'm serious. I had to take a break from writing this because it's too emotionally draining.)

So, after Chara's death, Asriel absorbed their soul, and the two of them crossed the Barrier, where they were attacked by the humans. Asriel tells us that Chara was the one who wanted to use their "full power", and Asriel resisted. We aren't told much more than that, but I can't imagine Chara and Asriel held a calm and level-headed debate about the issue while they were actively under attack. Given the urgency of the situation, it was probably a rather heated argument, and both parties likely said things they would have regretted. Then Asriel died, that argument being his last conversation with Chara.

[sandyrantsxo]

BSA humbled me.

For the last 9 months, I felt nothing but shame. Despite the achievements that I post on my social media, I am nothing but a fraud.

Writing this letter while ugly crying is truly such a surprise for me. I thought I'll excel here. I thought this would come off as natural to me. I CHOSE to be here. I PRAYED to be here. But then why is it hurting me this much? Why am suffering so damn much? Maybe I became too confident. Maybe I'm not really smart, I'm just *masipag* and that's it. I don't have the brains to survive in this program. Hell, 2nd semester and I'm already failing. 1st sem wasn't a breeze, though. I remember not having the energy to even wake up in the morning to attend classes. I felt doomed. It wasn't like when I was still in UB, where I felt excited to go to school. But here in DLSL? I dreaded it. There were moments where I could rather die than attend Confras and Finacre. The irony is, this institution was my dream school. This course was my dream course. I prayed for this. I really did. At 13, all I can think about is "De La Salle Lipa". I took pride in being a "Lasallian" and a "BSA student" just for those two to be the things that I hated most about myself. I couldn't see myself doing this for another 3 years. Hell, I just want this to be over with. It's so hard. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Am I dumb? Am I really *that* dumb? Or is it the course? Is it the school? Is it the professor? Is it the lack of support system? Or is it just me?

Or maybe because I kept comparing DLSL with UB? Is it because I miss UB? I miss my home? It's just so weird. I hated UB with my whole guts but now I crave it. I wish I could just crawl back into it and cry and let the ambiance hug me and nurture me and tell me its okay. Is it my friends? Do I miss them? I mean, I have friends in DLSL but it isn't really a factor that I wanna even consider. Is it the competition? Fuck, it's like competing with 10000x Roberts in here. It is physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually draining to even breathe in here. I don't like it here anymore. I wanna go home. But I'm scared of the judgment. I don't wanna be labeled as a failure.

I've been crying a lot for the past few weeks. I don't know if it's because of my period or because of my grades- could be both though. It's my first time experiencing scoring 29/60 in an exam. A fucking exam. And my quizzes are flunking out too. A 32/45 on a quiz? Fuck that. Fuck me. Fuck everything. Why is it so hard to be just as good as I was in high school? I know I'm not dumb. I'm not stupid. I may have gotten a bit lazy, but that couldn't have been it. I'm not dumb. It hurts how I have to repeat that multiple times a day. I'm so dumb. I'm so fucking dumb I hate myself.

I remember crying about not having 1 point to be considered "With Highest Honors", and now look at where I am. I'm begging to pass. *Pass*. All that in one semester. Last semester, I had second honors. Wow, right? I even assured myself that I might just survive in this program, that I might even do better than I thought I would. But fuck that. I'm failing. Do you even understand how embarassing that is? From being the top in your class, to being a mid in class? I'm just pretending that I have my shit together, but in reality, I do not.

I've reached a new low, where I wish I could just wake up and I'm 40 years old and I'm suddenly halfway through life and I only have a few years left until I die. Yes. That's a new low. I thought that the worst it could be is not seeing yourself 5-10 years from now. Turns out it could be worse. Sometimes, I find myself hoping that I'll get sick, or I could get caught in the accident so I can be confined and finally have the time to rest. Yes, it was that bad. For the first time in years, I silently prayed that I could seriously just die. Come on, let's end it. What's the point? It was that bad. I need help more than ever but I don't know how to ask for it. Hell, I don't even know what to do right now.

No, it wasn't because of the heavy workload. It was more of the emotional and mental fatigue. Unlike in UB where I'm bombarded with tasks, here you are bombarded with self-hatred, and jealousy, and confusion, and 99% of the time, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just good at acting like I know what I'm doing.

It was painful to wake up every morning, realizing what the day is gonna be. I hated how I hated where I am right now. I know I should be grateful and stuff, but honestly, I don't wanna lie to myself right now. I hate it. I fucking hate it. Why does it have to be so hard? I wish I had a single answer to any of these questions that I have in my head. I wish I could answer even just one of them.

No, I don't regret being in accountancy. I don't regret choosing ABM. I don't regret going to DLSL. I don't regret not staying in UB even if I had the chance. Because I know that I tried. What I would regret more is if I didn't try. As much as I love to take Psychology, I just don't see myself pursuing that long-term. However, I also do not see myself pursuing accountancy. So why am I still here? I don't know. Is it the ego? Probably. I'd probably just transfer to UB if shit goes south here in DLSL. Sure, I'll miss JPIA and PFC, but it's better than studying AIS and losing a scholarship. In UB, I could still try and apply for scholarship. I might lose the scholarship for 2nd year, but hopefully, I'll be a full scholar by 3rd year to 4th year- less financial burden to my parents. It just sucks that I have to here in this position right now. It sucks. Everything sucks. Just kill me at this point.

[daniellelevsky]

Nurture Project - Week 2 Reflection (January 8-14)

Week 2 kicked off on the exhausting side - after a weekend of performances of War and Play Monday was filled with the final tech rehearsals and shows for the first night of The Crone Chronicles at PhysFestNYC. Very proud of the work we created, but definitely pushed myself to the edge physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

Luckily, the rest of the week brought a better balance of rejuvenating activities amidst the continued hustle.

For the second day of shows of The Crone Chronicles, I enjoyed a slow morning of journaling with a friend, had a quiet and mostly undisturbed work-from-home day, and then closed PhysFest with two wonderful final performances of The Crone Chronicles. My cup was very filled that day.

On Wednesday, watching the inspiring experimental theater piece Onegin by Krymov Lab NYC recharged me creatively. On Thursday, immersing myself in Judy Chicago's stunning feminist artwork was incredibly nourishing.

The necessary tasks of transporting costumes/props back to Philly and tackling piles of grant applications felt draining. My day job remained uninspiring.

I taught an intro clown workshop in Philly which filled participants with so much joy and silliness - watching them have fun was the best refueling. And being able to dance afterward fueled me, too.

Bobbing my head along at my friend's queer choir concert and catching up with close friends over drinks after brought me the community connection and support I needed.

I ended the week feeling a bit more equilibrium than last. Making space for activities across all the facets of health (physical, creative, intellectual, emotional, spiritual, social) allowed me to bounce back from an exhausting start. But I still haven't cracked the code on finding day-to-day motivation at a job I'm not passionate about. And I tended towards over-exertion with back-to-back intense rehearsals and performances.

This week showed me I have room to build more small restorative practices into each day - whether 5 minutes of meditation, a short walk, or writing in my journal (or Morning Pages?! Yep - I'm doing The Artist's Way again).

I want to continue leaning into inspiration and joy from my creative projects and community. Onward towards more balance!

[returntosaturn271995]

Saturday, October 14th, 2023: "No." Is a complete sentence.

After the events of yesterday, I fell asleep at 9:30 last night out of sheer exhaustion.

Running, 7 am meetings, the American passport process, yoga, social obligations, reading, writing, staying politically up to date, paying off bills, shin splints, dating, cooking, being a supportive friend, trying to be a better person, setting up dates and cleaning have me both emotionally proud and physically drained.

I'm pretty sure if I die in the next year my corpse is going to be found with facial sunscreen in one hand and a life tracking app in the other.

But also...I feel good. Less guilty. More myself.

"Making the best of things is a damn poor way of dealing with them. My life has been a series of making an escape from that quicksand."

I hobbled around today because yesterday's run may have just been a bad idea on a body that has been putting in THE WORK, lately. My left shin is what's known in medical terms as "pissed off". I slept in late and tried to stay off it. I spent my Saturday for real doing nothing but hydrating, eating salad, cleaning my room, and watching a feminist documentary with Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda. The documentary then inspired me to watch Grace and Frankie (fucking, amazing lol). I took some Advil and am about to smoke some weed while Blue wanders around my room.

I've also been texting people all day. Cole went to a wedding his ex-gf has to be invited as a plus one because she sucks. TEAM COLE. Maddy has decided not to tell her boyfriend she cheated on him, and I support her because TEAM MADDY. Dasha is at an Airbnb with her boyfriend and wants "spooky movie reccs" (she wasn't interested in my feminist documentary suggestion). Kendall hooked up with the guy who got gum in her hair again, to which I have heard no updates, So even though I've technically been alone, I've felt connected a lot lately.

Also, and this may be the weed talking, but how weird is it that Grace and Sol were the names of the people who helped me get my passport and Grace and Sol are the names of main characters in Grace and Frankie?

It's spooky is what it is.

Or just a sign that I need even more sleep.

I'm finishing up the day with two "Love" chapters from The Defining Decade, which has me anxious and relieved that I'm not dating a loser. About to read another two chapters of "Really, Good. Actually" which is about a 28-year-old divorcee.

Am I going out tonight?

No.

[apricusapollo]

reading and loving your rwrb fics! you’re giving me a lot of thoughts about good sibling Philip… (and his sibling relationship with Bea/Henry/him as a trio) i really like the dynamic that you wrote in your last fic but (and feel free to ignore this part) do you have any further headcanons or future fic stuff in store? 👀

all the best <3

oh my goddd thank you so much <333

I am emotionally not strong enough to write siblings being angsty it hurts me too much so I just go with making all three of them happy and supportive of each other!! they mean so much to me!!

(tyty englih love affair is literally my bbg I love her so dearly)

I do, in fact, have some fic ideas for future!!

the current wip I'm working on is simply a crackfic and the super six is back in that karaoke bar again!!

the other ideas I have are - the canon divergence one based on back to december by ts (from henry's pov), two 5+1 things fic ideas, the actors au (where they both get casted for rwrb lol) with exes to lovers and wildest dreams by ts vibes

that's all for now!!

I have no clue when I'm going to work on those because getting ready for the national exams that I have next year is draining every bit of joy and will to live out of me but one day, one day I will work on them 😔✊️

[bylightofdawn]

!!!!

WOOOF Finished Chapter 22 and holy fuckballs I am EMOTIONALLY DRAINED from writing that chapter.

That is an emotional doozy. I will prolly have to edit it heavily. Also ahahaha this chapter is cursed with so many rotating POV. I can't even

I just pray people can follow-along with this.

EDIT: I legit just went and laid next to Genji and wrapped my arms around him and hugged him for a full two minutes. Which is shocking because he normally would be IMMEDIATELY out of there. But he actually passively laid there and let me bury my face into his shoulder and lavish kisses on him. Bruh, I needed that moment.

Of course, after two minutes he was like 'Nope, I'm done' and immediately scrambled from my arms and crouched on the foot of the bed like two feet away looking at me like I'm the madwoman I am. I gave him a sheba stick for his services as my emotional support animal.

I'm gonna put plot spoilers behind the cut because I need to get it out of my head right now.

🚨🚨Read at your own risk. 🚨🚨

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Last warning, do not click if you don't want chapter spoilers

H o l y s h i t

So it's revealed Montross hired a Death Watch assassin to try and take Jango out.

I'm giving Jango the idiot ball here and he just...ran with it. Went right for Montross who was fully armored up, ready to ostensibly got 'hunting' Death Watch. Jango is a fucking idiot who is unarmored and immediately tries to take Montross out, ends up getting overpowered and turned into an unwilling captive to a now panicking Montross who squares off with an EXCEEDINGLY pissed Jaster who is doing everything he can to not flip his shit.

Ends up telling Montross he'll let him go if he releases Jango.

They start arguing back and forth, Montross doesn't believe him and has Jango pinned to him with a blaster to his head as he literally backs himself into a corner, aka the bank of windows in the living room.

Mij tries to interject, is literally the only other person armored up and ready for action and the only one with a jetpack (you can see where this is prolly going) He tries to defuse the situation with no luck.

Jaster continues to be scarily intense and telling Montross if he lets Jango go he can leave alive but it he hurts him, he's going to make his death very long and very painful which....not great negotiating skills on his part but it's a high emotional state so we're gonna give him a C- average on handling the situation and his temper.

Myles who is like three seconds from passing out ends up throwing a vibroknife through the window which shatters it and gives Montross a sudden exit which he takes.

By throwing Jango out the window as a distraction and he then proceeds to book it as Mij dives after Jango rather than chasing after him.

Jaster isn't happy with Myles cause that was a stupid risk he just took with his son's life though Myles argues back he knew Montross would take the out and predicted he would prolly do something like that but he knew Mij was there with said jetpack to save the day.

Mij drags Jango back inside who just sags, Jaster tries to grab him, his dumbass being the one with the nearly non-functional arm and a leg still healing from getting hit by a skycar a few days (and chapters) earlier. So he ends up nearly going down too and poor Mij is just over EVERYONE'S BULLSHIT and throws both of them at the couch.

Jaster orders him to go after Montross which Mij hesitates over because three people are fucking walking wounded who literally can't stand right now. Jaster orders him to go after Montross but he is long-gone at this point so he ends up just giving up and returns to base as Jaster announces over team comms Montross is a traitor and he's shoot on sight.

Kal is all "WTF repeat that?"

Meanwhile Vau is his typical ice-cold self and is all "Copy, last location?" just no questions just straight up ready to merc a bitch.

Why? BECAUSE IT IS WALON VAU

Which is when Mij just is done with everything and tells Jaster he lost him and he's returning to base.

And that's how this shit show of a chapter is going to end.

Next chapter is going to be just as awful. Jaster is going to go on a roaring rampage of revenge. Thankfully Myles isn't dying though he might pass out and will have a solution for how to track him and Death Watch.

I am so fucking drained from writing all of that chaotic bullshit. If you think the summary was chaotic bullshit, imagine where my poor brain is right now.

Also NEVER do this, I just literally had to get it out of my brain or I would not be able to sleep or have any peace tonight I think.

[catchingbigfish]

i noticed you didn't feel like a lot of the previous advice has been helpful which is super relatable for me. i've felt the same way as you and none of the advice worked because i'd already tried all of it, so i wound up frustrated that no one seemed to get it and i still couldn't find a way to make it work. also, it sounds like we're in similar situations, which is mentally draining jobs + in school + trying to balance a writing practice (and personally i get no positive reinforcement for writing because i almost never share it with anyone, not sure if you're in the same boat). for me, it was usually one of two things: there were far more pressing things i needed to address first, or it was like a miniature version of burn-out, and you probably already know which it is for yourself, but my advice for both is the same:

treat writing like an anxious cat: enjoy it when it wants to be given attention, and peacefully coexist with it when it doesn't. it's just a perspective shift that helped me out. feel your feelings about it, of course -- like, personally, it makes me super angry when something i love feels inaccessible to me, or maybe i'm pissed off over how it feels like a piece of my identity is hiding from me and now i'm experiencing all this angst about who even i am if i'm not a writer, etc. -- but practice peaceful coexistence and don't try to force it. if you try to force it, it's going to make you miserable, and then you're going to associate misery with writing, and you're going to loathe it even more. (ask me, the writer who quit writing for 2 years, how i know!) don't worry about a daily habit, don't worry about days you can't bring yourself to write, talk back to your negative thoughts about how you're an imposter or not cut out for it and remind yourself those things aren't true, but above all, love writing when it comes to you, and don't try to force it when it doesn't.

there are long-term strategies to make decompression a quicker process, and there are ways to develop little pockets of time to write*, but those aren't going to help you right now, today, and i think the most important thing is getting over the burn-out. in my experience, the only way to do that is the anxious cat method -- decide that right now, you don't have to do or be anything, you can just do it when it feels good and stop when it doesn't.

* the only specific advice i will give: i saw a post the other day that said the only good writing advice is "steal time from your day job" and i remembered how i worked at a museum in college and would stuff my notebook and pen in my uniform pocket, then sit in a chair where it looked like i was doing my job but i was really writing, and now i work in an office and write stories in an email draft so it looks like i'm working on something; it really is good advice

but also, the last thing i want to say is, again, i feel you. feeling like you physically, mentally, and emotionally cannot write is a super frustrating and isolating and lonely place to be as a writer. you've already said you know it's not going to last forever but it still sucks, and i get it. i hope things get easier for you soon!

Question for any writers out there who work full time…How the hell do you maintain your work life balance?

I am one more bad day away from throwing in the towel on ToL. I woke up this morning feeling inspired for the first time in weeks, but work has been so busy and after I get home all my motivation is gone. On my days off, my brain is so fried that it takes both days to decompress before going back in.

Leaving this job isn’t realistic for me until I’m done with school next year, so I’m really hoping someone has some advice because I’m so, so, so frustrated with my brainpower being sucked away.

[ahensfin]

🐡100 Days of Being My Favorite Self🦜~Day 1

This is the year I'm going to turn 18 and it's time I stop shoving all the cool bits about myself deep down just because people might not care when I talk about something I'm interested in BUT FUCK THAT.

I'm going to live for myself goddammit and be as insane as possible.

Secondly, I guess I woke up one day in 7th grade and decided I wanted to go to like, Harvard because that was the most difficult thing I could think of but after they deferred me and I was barely fazed (concerning) I stumbled upon UChicago and its quirky self. Therefore, in a totally emotionally stable manner, I'm obsessed with it now. Yay!

I was going through a writing slump before but ever since I started tackling the UC Hicago prompts my brain started churning out acid and I ended up with the trippiest essays I've ever written but I'm proud of them and that's that.

Kind of crazy, but I'm applying to 15 colleges and I just submitted Colby and Wake Forest on Jan 1.

I have Northwestern and Yale due tonight (kinda- they're technically due tomorrow afternoon because timezones) and I'm done with the essays but I feel like the Why Us essays could definitely be stronger because when I read them today morning I thought they were unbelievably cringe and didn't have as much detail as I packed into my UC Hicago essay.

I also have to finish three whole projects I procrastinated on- ~ Analysis of Wipro's cash flow statement ~ Calculating the accounting ratios from that annual report and figuring out what they mean ~ english essay on brain drain I've also ended up forming this habit of sleeping at 3 and waking up at 11 which will be torture when school starts in two days. I also have an English mock on 4th that I will study last minute for because English is easy. I'm also kind of worried about college because as seen above, I don't have the healthiest study habits which I've heard can absolutely destroy you in college so I hope I remember to hit the ground running when I finally get there.

[bakaaruo]

          @sasukhiha​   sent,   ‘  a  hoarse  whisper,   kiss  me.  ’

uchiha  sasuke  was  immortal  to  the  mind  of  uzumaki  naruto.   it  was  a  childish  thought  for  any  shinobi  to  have;   if  anything,   naruto’s  entire   life  experience  has  only  further  validated  that  nothing  is  permanent.   but  the  more  they  evaded  death,   the  more  they  overcame  the  impossible,   the  more  naruto  entertained  the  idea  that  they  were  fated  to  survive.   he  knew  sasuke  wasn’t  invincible,   but  the  hokage  never  thought  he  would  ever  have  to  watch  him  die. 

how   can   a   guy   who   can’t    even   save   one   friend...    become    hokage   ?

naruto’s  curse  was  he  would  always  survive  his  loved  ones.   hyuga  neji  is  survived  by...   lord  third  is  survived  by...   jiraiya  is  survived  by...   life  clung  to  naruto  like  clothes,   and  the  more  he  survived,   the  more  those  clothes  began  to  feel  like  chains.   it’s  why  he  couldn’t  stop  reaching  for  sasuke,   it’s  why  he  needed  his  life  to  be  worth  all  those  sacrificed  for  it.   and  even  if  he  failed,   they  would  both  fail.   naruto  watched  so  many  die  quick,   unceremonious  deaths  in  battle,   and  the  thought  of  crossing  into  the  next  life  with  his  best  friend  seemed  like  a  better  end  than  he  could  hope  for. 

naruto  couldn’t  fathom  even  death  parting  him  and  sasuke. 

even  with  no  medical  skill,   himself—   and  four  of  his  clones—   were  all  trying  their  hardest  they  to  keep  all  of  sasuke’s  blood  in  his  body.   they  pressed  into  his  once  porcelain  skin  until  the  dark  fabric  beneath  their  hands  became  damp,   warm,   and  sticky.   each  of  the  clones  exchanged  expressions  of  worry  and  skepticism,   differentiating  from  the  main  body,   whose  eyes  would  not  lift  from  the  sight  of  his  own  hands.   and  that’s  when  he  heard  it.

there  was  a  chance  naruto  would  have  missed  it;   it’s  hard  to  speak  when  blood  is  spilling  into  your  lungs.   a  bittersweet  taste  filled  his  mouth  while  every  muscle  in  his  body  became  taut.   in  any  other  circumstance,   there  would  be  an  aura  of  excitement  to  the  raven’s  request—   even  in  a  normal  circumstance,   it  was  more  than  an  unusual  request  to  come  from  sasuke’s  lips. 

kiss   me.

not  a  single  person,   not  even  the  creatures  that  dwelled  inside  him,   understood  the  how  badly  naruto  had  wanted  to  hear  those  two  words.   kiss  me,   hold  me,   touch  me—   no  matter  how  sasuke  phrased  it,   for  him  to  want  naruto  badly  enough  to  ask  for  him  was  a  dream  that  every  fiber  of  naruto’s  body  craved.   and  yet  the  idea  of  kissing  sasuke  now  tasted  like  bile  in  his  mouth,   and  he  clenched  his  eyes  shut  and  turned  away  from  his  voice.

❛   now...   now  you  want  me  to  kiss  you?   ❜   his  voice  was  strangled,   sounding  as  if  it  was  stuck  in  his  throat,   or  like  he  couldn’t  breathe.   he  wanted  to  die.    ❛   i’ve  been  trying  to  get  you  to  come  home...   to  just  learn  to  stay  and  forgive  yourself.   i’ve  been  trying  to  kiss  you  for  months—   and  you...   ❜   a  vaguely  familiar  burn  ran  through  the  jinchuriki’s  body,   an  inferno  that  naruto  had  previously  quelled. 

anger  like  this  was  unending,  unsatisfied;   it  consumed  him  until  he  felt  the  heat  reach  even  his  eyes,   turning  clear  blue  hues  a  crimson  that  rivaled  sasuke’s  sharingan  in  brilliance.   they  looked  even  brighter  behind  the  downpour  of  the  jinchuriki’s  tears,   glaring  down  at  sasuke  as  low  growls  rumbled  in  his  throat.    ❛   YOU  TOLD  ME  YOU  COULD  HANDLE  IT  !    ❜   he  snarled  down  at  the  dying  man,   tears  rolling  off  his  lips  (  and  fangs  )  onto  sasuke's  tattered  clothes.   of  course  he  was  angry  at  sasuke;   he  was  supposed  to  be  the  smart  one.   years  of  calling  naruto  useless,   loser,   idiot   because  naruto  was  impatient,   stubborn,   and  reckless  in  a  fight   only  to  end  up  being  held  together  by  the  usuratonkachi.   

the  deaths  of  geniuses  are  so  pitiful.

when  the  fading  light  of  hyuga  neji  died  in  front  of  him,   naruto  remembered  the  same  taste  of  copper  in  his  mouth  while  his  brain  screamed.   WHY   WHY   WHY,   IF  YOU  CAN'T,   HOW  CAN  I?   naruto  was  a  sloppy  fighter,   even  now,   and  he  was  an  average  strategist  at  best;   sasuke  and  neji  outperformed  him  in  more  ways  than  the  village  would  ever  know,   and  yet  naruto  had  to  watch  them  both  die  in  the  end.   sasuke  didn't  like  politics,   but  maybe  that  would  have  made  him  a  better  hokage  than  the  current,   and  he  wouldn't  be  bleeding  out  in  a  deserted  cavern.   it  sent  another  jolt  of  anger  shooting  through  naruto,   a  sob  pushing  its  way  past  his  clenched  teeth.

he's   dying,   naruto.                            shut  up,   stupid  old  fox.

the  idea  of  a  last  kiss  with  sasuke  had  his  spine  bending  with  grief,   hands  pressing  harder  into  his  chest.    ❛   just  wait...   til  sakura  sees  this...   after  she  gets  you  okay,   you'll  be  lucky  to  live  one  more  day...   ❜   even  as  a  child,   naruto  would  find  ways  to  avoid  reality,   often  with  a  flash  of  his  toothy,   dopey  grin.   no  matter  how  bad  it  would  seem,   he  clung  to  reasons  to  smile  to  survive  the  worst,   but  his  mouth  wouldn't  rise  even  if  he  tried.   nothing  about  this  was  enjoyable.   it  was  pain  in  physical  form,   and  naruto  was  wrist-deep  in  it,   soaking  it  in  until  it  stained  his  fingernails.   his  new  biggest  fear.   there  wasn't  supposed  to  be  a  last  kiss  because  sasuke  was  supposed  to  be  untouchable  to  anyone  except  the  gods  and  buddha.

why  are  you  giving  up?   don't  you  want  to  stay  with  me  longer?

❛   baka...   ❜    his  voice  is  hardly  there.

he's  trying  to  say  goodbye,   boy.                you  never  even  liked  him.                                                but  you  did.

naruto  didn't  like  sasuke,   he  coveted  him,   craved  him  like  a  lifesource;   does  a  plant  like  water?    naruto  spent  so  much  of  his  adolescence  breaking  chunks  off  of  himself  for  sasuke,   trying  to  lace  their  lives  in  a  closely  woven  pattern  in  the  hopes  that  sasuke  would  be  forced  to  acknowledge  him.   if  sasuke  expressed  admiration,   naruto  wanted  it;   if  sasuke  expressed  hate,   naruto  wanted  it;   if  sasuke  expressed  love,   naruto  wanted  it.   even  as  boys,   the  uchiha  was  the  center  of  naruto's  focus,   until  he  became  the  fox's  life.   without  sasuke,   there  were  a  lot  of  gaps  in  his  world;   even  then,   when  sasuke  would  leave  for  months  at  a  time,   naruto  would  feel  the  spaces  he  would  leave.   they  were  excruciatingly  loud.

it  used  to  be  the  empty  space  that  existed  in  a  random  inn  on  boring  missions,   the  silence  that  hung  in  the  air  that  would  usually  be  filled  with  petty  banter,   the  chill  of  training  alone.   even  if  sasuke  were  to  hate  him,   naruto  still  couldn't  stand  being  away  from  the  only  constant  he's  ever  had.   now,   it  was  much  worse—   it  was  the  cold  indent  in  the  mattress,   it  was  the  ghost  of  his  scent  on  naruto's  clothes,   the  fucking  cats  that  would  show  up  on  the  back  porch  and  scream  for  hours.   naruto  wanted  to  scream  too.

listen   to   the   last   wishes   of   a   dying   man.                      why  are  you  so  bent  on  this,   kurama?      i   know   all   too   well   the   regrets  caused   by   anger.                    if   he   dies,   will   you   be   able   to   live   with               how   your   anger   kept   you   from   saying   goodbye?

it  was  like  ice  pouring  over  his  entire  body,   and  he  felt  the  color  drain  from  his  eyes  as  all  the  anger  fell  out  of  him,   replaced  with  a  suffocating  anguish.   he's  dying,   he  knows  he's  dying.   his  body  sagged,   his  head  falling  down  against  his  own  chest,   blond  locks  cascading  over  his  drying  eyes.   one  after  another,   the  clones  disappeared,   and  soon  naruto  was  leaning  back,   hands   lifting  from  sasuke's  chest.   silently,   he  moved  to  lift  sasuke's  upper  body  up,   moving  to  support  the  raven's  body  with  his  chest,   arms  trembling  as  they  wrapped  around  his  bloody  torso.

with  two  fingers,   naruto  gripped  sasuke's  chin,   tipping  his  head  back  until  naruto  could  comfortably  lean  down  and  press  his  lips  against  his  rival's.   kissing  was  a  strange  thing;   even  in  moments  of  intensity,   it  was  a  rather  delicate  form  of  intimacy.   the  idea  of  kissing  was  more  daunting  than  anything  else  for  naruto,   and  kisses  from  sasuke  usually  left  him  a  shade  of  scarlet.   with  their  mutual  disinterest  in  physical  affection,   it  wasn't  a  common  act  between  them,   but  naruto  couldn't  help  but  wish  it  had  been  as  the  taste  of  sasuke's  mouth  blended  with  blood.   this  kiss  wouldn't  be  like  the  others—   tender,   slow  even,   as  if  they  had  all  of  the  time  in  the  world.   if  they  weren't  shinobi,   and  they  met  in  a  different  life,   naruto  imagined  this  is  how  they'd  kiss  all  the  time;   they  would  come  home  from  work,   and  naruto  would  watch  sasuke  cook,   and  naruto  would  complain  about  the  cats,   and  they  would  kiss  all  the  time.

  ❛   i  know  a  part  of  you  thinks  you're  lucky  to  have  made  it  this  far.   ❜   his  voice  was  still  uneven  as  his  lips  parted  from  sasuke’s,   but  he  held  firm,   pushing  back  the  swelling  in  his  throat.   ❛   but  i  wanted  to  chase  after  you  for  another  thirty  years.   i  was  prepared  to,   'ttebayo.   ❜   his  voice  became  clearer,   his  arms  clutching  sasuke  against  him,   head  pressed  against  his.   ❛   i've  made  you  do  a  lot  more  than  you  probably  ever  wanted  to,   huh?   (  something  scratches  at  his  throat,   a  laugh?   )   but  in  the  next  life,   don't  think  you're  getting  a  break,   cause  you're  gonna  be  chasing  ME  for  once.   believe  it.   ❜   the  jinchuriki  pressed  his  face  into  sasuke's  hair,   hiding  both  the  grin  that  split  his  face  and  the  downpour  of  tears  that  begun  again.   

there  would  never  be  another  uchiha  sasuke  again,   and  it  was  both  a  promise   and  a  tragedy.