#I almost started crying listening to Abstract what is going on!!!!!!!!

[dizaryswrites]

The fact that I could make every single title of Whumptober an Unreal Unearth or Stick Season lyric is just.....an overwhelming amount of power....

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

Childhood friend reader who goes blind slowly over the course of growing up? Like starts losing vision at 5, fully blind by 18.

Reader childhood friend being their defender at school, walking them home from school every day hand in hand, eventually their first blind-friendly teenage date night (maybe a home-cooked dinner? Or maybe going to a local concert)

I wonder how a yandere would react to their darling being so vulnerable? Not just a random stranger could steal you from him, but also something as simple as a wet floor.

I also imagine him staring down people in public that are rude to reader, while showing none of it in his voice. Like if he catches a guy leering, it's ice in his eyes but voice warm like a summer day.

You don't need to know how ugly the world is, if he can possibly hide it from you

🫣

Yandere Guide x Blind Reader

You’re five the first time the world dims.

It happens in a quiet, almost forgettable way. You blink at the sun too long and can’t see the chalk lines on the playground anymore. You think it’s a game at first—close one eye, then the other. But something doesn’t quite come back.

When your parents bring you to the doctor, you’re swinging your feet beneath the exam table, more fascinated by the rubber hammer than the gravity of the tests being done. The diagnosis is clinical, cold, and incomprehensible to your young mind: a degenerative condition. Your vision will fade slowly, year by year, until it’s gone.

You’re too young to understand.

Ezra is sitting beside you, swinging his feet too, but his shoulders are stiff, his fingers clenched so tightly on the arm of the chair that his knuckles go white. When your mother starts crying, Ezra doesn’t look away like the doctor does. He watches her. And then, he turns to you and takes your hand like he’s done since you were toddlers.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll see for both of us.”

Years pass.

You start to forget the precise colors of things. Your drawings become less defined, more abstract, until you stop drawing altogether. Reading becomes a chore. Eventually, someone teaches you Braille, but it doesn’t feel the same. The books don’t smell like they used to. You can’t lose yourself in the margins anymore.

But Ezra is there. Every day.

He walks you home from school, hand in hand. He learns to read Braille faster than you do, just so he can tutor you. You don’t know this, but he stays up late at night, fingertips raw from running over dotted pages again and again until he gets it right. He never tells you how hard he works. He just smiles that gentle smile of his when you praise him for being such a good teacher.

He’s your shield at school. When kids stare too long, or whisper cruel things, you hear Ezra’s voice—light, calm, always kind. But what you never hear is the way he stares back at them, like a wolf staring down prey. You never see the way people flinch under his gaze. He never lets you see it.

The world is getting darker for you. But it’s never anything less than warm when he’s near.

By the time you're fifteen, your vision is mostly light and color. Vague shapes. A world painted in blurred watercolor.

You begin to understand how dangerous things can be. A single step on uneven pavement, a misjudged curb. Once, you fall on a slick cafeteria floor, and you cry. You hear the snickering before someone helps you up.

But Ezra’s already behind you, pulling you gently to your feet, whispering, “Don’t listen to them.”

You listen to him.

Later, the boy who laughed at you gets suspended for a “locker accident.” No one connects the dots. You never even hear about it. Ezra makes sure of that.

You don’t need to know how ugly the world is.

Your seventeenth birthday comes with a full moon, but it’s just a pale blur to you now. Ezra’s hands are sure and steady as he leads you down the hallway of your house.

“Where are we going?” you laugh.

“You’ll see,” he says softly.

The scent of food hits you before anything else. Rosemary, garlic, warm bread. There’s music playing faintly—a song you told him once you liked, years ago, when you could still see the album cover.

He made dinner. Not just any dinner—your favorites, arranged thoughtfully and cut into perfect bite-sized pieces. The table is set. Candles flicker. You can’t see them, but you feel the warmth, the flicker against your skin.

He seats you like it’s a restaurant. Holds your hand for just a moment longer than necessary.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says.

You blush. You hadn’t thought to ask him what you were wearing. You don’t know anymore what looks good on you. But Ezra says it like a promise, like a fact.

He feeds you with care—only when you ask, never assuming you need the help, but ready the moment you do. The whole night is seamless.

You don’t know how long he’s been dreaming of this.

By the time you’re eighteen, there’s nothing left. No shapes. No light. The world is made of sound, of touch, of scent. You know Ezra better than anyone—not by face, but by footsteps, by breath, by the quiet way he clears his throat when he's thinking.

You don’t see the way men watch you sometimes—how your blindness makes them think you’re easy, or helpless, or not quite whole.

But Ezra sees.

You never hear the venom in his voice, because there never is any. He keeps it warm, soft, friendly.

“Careful, there,” he’ll say, when someone walks too close. “She’s delicate.”

You don’t see the way his eyes bore into theirs, daring them to speak again. Daring them to try anything. You don’t see the way his fingers twitch at his side, or how he memorizes faces.

No one touches you. Not without going through him first.

You never know how many times Ezra has protected you from shadows you’ll never see.

And he never tells you.

Because you don’t need to know how ugly the world is.

Not when he can carry it for you.

Not when all you need is his hand, warm in yours, leading you through the dark like he always has.

Masterlist

[outofangband]

Blood and Darkness: An Updated Post on the Darkening of Valinor and Maedhros’s testimony from Morgoth’s Ring (History of Middle Earth Volume Nine)

Notes: since my original post, I’ve made several others which can be found in my tag “The Darkening of Valinor” and I might link to them and refer to them throughout

Also special thanks to @nelyoslegalteam and @potatoobsessed999 for listening to me ramble about this a lot

So, for background, just as within the original Silmarillion, Fëanor has been exiled to Formenos for many years and today, during the Mingling of the two trees, he has come to Manwë's court where he was meant to speak to Fingolfin and forgiveness to be reached. Of course, we know, something more happened. Morgoth attacked with Ungoliant and the two trees were destroyed. In Morgoth's Ring, we get a vivid description of the atmosphere around the Darkening and it's also one of the most dialogue we get for Maedhros anywhere.

I imagine this is a post I'll continue to edit and revise, it's one of my favorite scenes

But even as (Nienna) mourned there was the sound of feet hastening in the night. Then through the throng came the sons of Fëanor, flying from the North and they bore new tidings of evil. Maedhros  spoke for them. “Blood and darkness!’ he cried. ‘Finwë the king is slain and the Silmarils are gone!’

I made an entire post about it here but to summarize, these words are so important because they are likely among the first times Maedhros has known anything like darkness or seen blood in this way. He's hunted certainly but this sort of violent death is the stuff of old tales. His cry of blood and darkness, darkness and blood, are not just abstract exclamations of the horrors he has just witnessed, they are also genuine reactions to what was not natural or familiar phenomena to him.

Then Fëanor fell upon his face and lay as one dead until the full tale was told.

‘My lord,’ said Maedhros to Manwë, ‘it was the day of the festival but the king was heavy with grief at the departure of my father, a foreboding was on him. He would not go from the house. We were irked by the idleness and silence of the day and we went riding towards the Green Hills. Our faces were Northward but suddenly we were aware that all was growing dim.’

Maedhros captures the atmosphere so vividly here. Something like a quiet, summer day when there shouldn’t be a thunderstorm but it feels like there will be. Slow and almost crackling and the heavy air starts to feel like dread. I love this description and I’m not doing my response to it justice.

I am just thinking...imagine you have never known true night and all of a sudden the light starts to go away. Indeed, even if you did know night, if the light started to fail at midday?

‘The light was failing. In dread we turned and rode back in haste, seeing great shadows rise up before us. But even as we drew near to Formenos the darkness came upon us; and in the midst was a blackness like a cloud that enveloped the house of Fëanor.’

‘That enveloped the house of Fëanor’. He means this literally of course; he was out riding with his brothers and a cloud of this awful growing dark closes in on them but it's obviously a poignant symbolism as well.

‘We heard the sound of great blows struck. Out of the clouds we saw a sudden flame of fire. And then there was one piercing cry. But when we urged on our horses they reared and cast us to the ground, and they fled away wild. We lay upon our faces without strength; for suddenly the cloud came on and for a while we were blind. But it passed us and moved away north at great speed. Melkor was there, we do not doubt. But not he alone! Some other power  was with him, some huge evil: even as it passed it robbed us of all wit and will.’

The sense of chaos and sheer wrongness is palpable here. I don’t know if this makes sense but the buzzing of the air with tension, the birds and insects and warm weather frogs have gone quiet, like a solar eclipse in a world that does not yet have the sun.  The forced cheerful but wary day of riding turning afoul when this cloud comes and screams are heard, the confusion, them being cast from their horses which have  and unable to move as this dreadful, ancient power draws nearer to them? The Fëanorians were trapped as this horrifying entity passes by them and survive only because they are not directly in the way. 

A sense of dread, static atmosphere, trusted animals acting oddly and then violently, the light going out, helplessness induced as though by an otherworldly power. It's a scene out of a horror tale.

And then what they find when they finally reach home. 

The Silmarillion says that Fëanor would have almost certainly been killed had he been at Formenos when Melkor arrived, indeed it was likely Melkor’s aim. (And Fëanor cursed also the summons of Manwë and the hour in which he came to Taniquetil, thinking in the madness of his rage and grief that had he been at Formenos his strength would have availed more than to be slain also as Melkor had purposed “The Flight of the Noldor”). We can’t say for certain what would have happened in hypotheticals that the author didn’t directly addresses but I have a hard time imagining that Melkor would have showed much mercy had the sons of Fëanor not gone out riding and had instead attempted to aid their grandfather. 

Also the mention of how the cloud that passes robs them of their wit and will. It's intriguing and horrifying. It could almost be read as a natural response to such a traumatic event, hearing your grandfather attacked and slain, his crying out, and knowing you won't get there in time...except for how total and visceral it is.

I've talked a lot about this when it comes to The Wanderings of Húrin and it's always difficult to know how much is intentional but I frequently find it interesting how often these influences of darkness and evil mirror trauma responses, such as Húrin walking 'as one in a dream' and the shadow that takes over him upon waking from nightmares.

‘Darkness and blood! When we could move again we came to the house. There we found the king slain at the door. His head was crushed as with a great mace of iron. We found no others; all had fled and he had stood alone, defiant. That is plain; for his sword lay beside him, twisted and untempered as though by lightning strike. All the house was broken and ravaged. Naught is left. The treasures are empty. The chambers of iron are torn apart. The Silmarils are taken!’

I'm also struck by how incredibly coherent and detached description of finding the murdered body of your grandfather in a place that had not ever seen violent murder. That he had the presence of mind to get his brothers away from Formenos and go directly to where Manwë was is pretty notable! Especially in the dark! I can imagine what that journey must have been like, not knowing who or what is still lurking out there.

And again, I made a full post about Finwë’s perspective on this here but... to think of Finwë’s last stand against this shadow of his childhood who has now haunted him across two continents, who’s evil deeds he has known from the very beginning, who started as a shapeless horror that stole away his kin in the dead of night and became this knowable threat he still couldn’t escape..knowing his grandsons are minutes away in this shadow....

And the detail of Melkor further destroying the whole house! Killing Finwë was likely unnecessary, he could have almost certainly cast him aside, knocked him unconscious, etc. Melkor likely became enraged when another member of that family denied him entry and so he destroyed all he could in his path.

Final note: some of the descriptions in Morgoth’s Ring about the reaction of non Finwëans is also striking so I’ll post about that soon

[parrythisucasual]

Perfect Imperfections

Pairing: Jax x Reader (Romantic) / Ragatha x Reader (Romantic) / Pomni x Reader (Platonic)

TW: Bullying (it’s Jax.) / Insecurities / Thoughts of body modification?

Content: You’re self-conscious about your overbite, others try to help.

REQUESTED BY @duskisnotactive

**************************************************************************************

You would have thought being digitalized would get rid of this kind of thing. Nobody else seems to have something like this, do they? You stared at your reflection in the mirror, lips pulled back in a grimace, staring at your teeth. Your overbite stared blankly back at you, almost teasingly.

Sighing, you turned away, closing your mouth once more. If only there was a way to get rid of it. You wished you could simply shove your jaw into place, and move your teeth around. You didn’t even care how badly it would hurt, as long as it was fixed…

A small knock at your door snapped you to reality. You shuffled over to it, cracking it slightly “Ragatha?” you questioned, your lovely ragdoll girlfriend smiling before you. Next to her, your best friend Pomni nervously stood. 

“Sweetie, can we come in? You’ve been hiding away for hours,” Ragatha spoke softly, reaching out and taking the door into her hand, opening it fully when you didn’t resist. “Sure… I wasn’t doing anything,” you shrug and retreat into your room, the girls on your heels. You settle onto your bed, Ragatha taking her place next to you while Pomni turns your desk chair around to sit.

“Have you been okay?” Pomni questions, glancing at you with that same worried look she normally wore, the only difference being this worry was more concern for you than anything else. “I’m fine,” you lie, knowing Ragatha would jump on that immediately. Really, you didn’t care.

“Sweetie, that's a lie, everyone knows something’s wrong,” she takes your hand, swirling small circles on your skin with her thumb, “please, tell us.” With a small sigh, you finally give in, “I… I don’t like… this,” you point to your mouth, feeling tears prick your eyes.

“What, your messed up teeth?” Your head shoots up, and you lock eyes with the smug-faced rabbit. “Jax!” Ragatha stands, placing herself between you, “who let you in?!” “Myself. The door wasn’t locked,” he swaggered into the room, one hand on his hip, “crybaby here still upset over their maw?”

You really start crying now. This was too much. You leap from your bed, running as fast and as far from him as you can. You didn’t know where you were going- you didn’t care. As long as you were alone, that's all that mattered. You ended up down by the digital lake, crying into your hands. 

You didn’t know how long you were there, alone, but it felt like hours. Not that time mattered in a place like this. Nothing did. You wondered if abstracting was really all that bad…

“Hey, toots.” That voice. You turned, and there he was in all his (lack of) glory. “What do you want?” you snarled weakly, trying to sound tougher than you felt. It wasn’t all that convincing, however, because he sat himself next to you.

“Look, that wasn’t supposed to make you that upset,” he shrugged casually. Was that supposed to be an apology? You stared at the water a moment longer, then stood, “Leave me alone. You’re the world’s biggest @#$%head and I wish it was you, not Kaufmo,” your words were tonless as you delivered them. You swore you saw pain flash in his eyes before you turned away, starting up the path back to the tent.

“Wait!” he called, “just… hear me out? Can I get that at least?” You stop, refusing to turn around to look at him, but listen. “You’re different, okay? You dint react to anything I say to you and it pisses me off. You don’t pay any attention to me.”

“That’s because I don't care about you,” you speak dangerously. “I know. And that just makes me want you to more.” You whip around, finally giving him the attention he wanted, “You want me to?! Then don’t make fun of the one thing I hate most about myself!” 

“But it’s what I like best,” he admitted, making you stop in your tracks, “it makes you look… good, okay? And if… if dollface ever doesn’t appreciate you… She's an idiot.” He finally stood, making his way past you, patting your head as he did so, “because I’d never take you for granted, okay? Anyways see ya later toots.” 

You watched him leave, back to his normal self. But something made you smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. After all, if he liked every part of you… who’s to say there isn’t something more to him too?

[mishsymishy]

Hi there! Could I request Ragatha, Zooble and Jax with someone who already comes kind of insane when they first arrive at the digital circus? Like having some glitches and abstracting for a couple of seconds? Thank you very much!

Thank you for making the request!(I loved the idea)

It is in drabble format, and it is friendship or romantic but it is more romantic

Warnings:Low self-esteem, panic, pain, rejection, handling, corrupted,Horrible jokes, angst.

Digital Circus x Reader having glitches and abstractions¡

Zooble!

- The first time they saw you, they thought that you were already lost, that you will probably become abstract soon or even now.

Well.., they was surprised to see how you go on and on well, as if the little glitches they gave you were nothing, I was a little admiring how you You still didn't fall into despair and well, end up like a black thing

-After being together for a long time, they starts to care about your constant glitches and abstractions,a little worried more and more that it will really get to the point where you lose control trying to find solutions to stop the glitches or abstracts , even if it is less than before

_You will have many talks, mostly to keep you mentally healthy, although well they too needs that. You tend to go to someone's room to talk or walk around, talking about your past lives or listening to Zooble complain about how unbearable everyone is. Although sometimes you also have talks about what you would do if you escaped and could finally be free

-Jax once bother you because you panicked and almost got a double abstraction eye on the back of your head, Zooble quickly managed to grab him by the neck again and threaten him that if he 'liked' abstractions so much he would be next one

-If you abstracted yourself, they wouldn't cry, but they would feel even worse about herself, as if they had failed you in everything they promised you. Making you believe that you could improve and both get out of there. Over time, they would also end up abstracted

Ragatha!

-She would really be scared to see how abstracted you are, after Kaufmo she's really afraid of being glitched or banged against the walls again. When she sees that you return to normal, she only looks at you strangely while thinking about what she just observed and how is that normal

-As he gets to know you better, he starts to ask a lot of questions about you and your health, etc. You even get the idea of ​​going to talk to Caine to see if he can solve your problem like he did with her and Pomni. When she sees your glitches he asks you if it's hurt. She, maybe, understands you a little And well, she maybe can help you reduce that little by little (At least that's what she thinks), trying to give you advice on what to do in a moment of stress just as she did with Ponmi.

-She worries a lot about you, trying to keep you from doing the hard things, like dealing with Caine's adventures as very difficult missions, and she just tells you to relax while she does all the work. Also try not to let others say bad things to you or even bother you, she really don't want to lose you! She is very overprotective of you like she was with Pomni, only much less so.

- The truth is that she loves you very much, she has captured you with affection and compassion, so if you finally corrupt yourself, She will feel bad too, only she would hit him twice as hard because she never felt too bad about her and now... hate herself a little too much, She feels like her only job was to take care of you and she just failed that simple thing. It will not become corrupt because it knows that there are still people who need her or that is what she wants to think. Oh, and I'm probably less patient now and more worried For your loss she will also have a small offering , like something that reminds her of you in a secluded place in her room.

Jax!

-At first he started insulting you, calling you strange or something like that and trying not to be with you relying on the excuse that you You were a bad and corrupted person and it was better to be away from you , try to convince everyone to stay away from you too using past reference like Kaufmo

-Then after having a mission with you and seeing how black things like abstractions came out of your body ,he was scared (and also worried) because of you.As he got to know you a little more he realized that you were just lost in your mind so you weren't that bad.

-He ends up caring about you but doesn't want to show it, if he gives you a glitch In public he won't say anything but then in private he will probably ask you everything about your mental and physical health.

-Many times he use your abstractions to scare someone, mostly Kinger, by telling them that you are also going to abstract like Kaufmo or Queenie , but if you tell him that you don't want him to make jokes about your problems, he will more or less stop doing it just because he loves you although I don't want to admit it at all.

I hope you liked it! sorry for the delay, a lot of study shit and thanks for make the request!

-If you become distracted, it is more or less that he will feel guilty for not having taken you seriously, for not having helped you so much, for laughing every time he saw something happen to you, thinking that it was not worrying. Surely now I'll stop making serious jokes on people. But he will also be much more depressed and wanting to leave that place.

-

—

Hope you like it! Sorry for the delay!

Please tell me if any pronoun or spelling is wrong, I use a translator and I don't know if some things are spelled correctly

[meowmarkie]

nct dream as yearning songs

a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)

Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo

Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye

You better save it for

The middle of the night when things aren't black and white

Enter, Troubadour

"Remember 24?"

Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.

You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier

See how it shines

Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.

(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)

The speed that you moved

The screech of the cars

The creature still moving

That slowed in your arms

The fear in its eyes

Gone out in an instant

Your tear caught the light

The Earth from a distance

Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey

If you go, I'll stay

You come back, I'll be right here

Like a barge at sea

In the storm, I stay clear

We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough. 

His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.

Say yes to Heaven

Say yes to me

Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults

Now it's been long enough to talk about it

I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it

I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision

But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?

This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.

His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.

Haven't I given enough, given enough?

Always the fool with the slowest heart

But I know you'll take me with you

We'll live in spaces between walls

Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey

I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club

In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.

I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.

My love, my love

Washing my hair, doing the laundry

Late night TV, I want you on me

Like when we were kids

Under chemtrails and country clubs

It's never too late, baby, so don't give up

Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married

Still alive killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time

You lowdown boy, you standup guy

You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm

The love of your life

I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.

His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

Your arson's match, your somber eyes

And I'll still see it until I die

You're the loss of my life

Jisung - Brother, Kodaline

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea I

'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it. 

There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.

I’ve got you brother

The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.

We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

Nothing new is sweeter than with you

I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.

Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c32. I want to speak in code.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, EDs and death.

song to listen to when reading this: Tu non mi basti mai, Lucio Dalla.

abstract: Judeeee, how are you doing??? Things are moving, even me and Simon, we're getting closer, what could go wrong? Spending this much time together, it's almost like we're a thing now. And who would have thought really, things change so fast and when you least expect it!

She had ballet, that was why she was looking at the time on her phone, she was late. Simon knew cause he went to see her, I'm not even gonna lie and pretend like he wasn't already planning on speaking to her. He knew where to find her, because, again, he knew her. He missed her. For the Al-Jareena mission he felt like he had access to her knowledge and her theories before the others, like he was, well, special. They spoke about it several times on several different occasions, and he liked it. He liked she knew what she was talking about, he liked she gave him her opinions on conflicts and politics. It wasn't the same with this, he hardly ever saw her anymore. He guessed she was busy with her counselling sessions, and ballet. When he saw her in the listening post room he really started to understand how hard that listening task was. Maybe she was tired, did she need help with the dog? He would have helped if he knew she was struggling. Maybe she had someone else helping her, that was the thing. He missed knowing what her days looked like, he missed hearing her voice and listening to her stories. His teammates struggled to leave him alone after finding out he knew her real name. He felt bad he told them, he felt like a complete idiot.

They left the listening post room after that briefing they had and went back to the hangar, they kept asking why him. Why did she choose him to disclose her identity to? And it almost amused him really, they were joking that he wasn't the type to get friendly with strangers, Gaz had confessed he asked her name multiple times and he was annoyed she never told him. He almost smiled at the thought under his mask. He started to feel good about himself, now that they were really making him think about the situation in that perspective. She chose him. If they only knew, he thought. We went to dinner, she told me all her theories and speculations, we walked her dog, we went out for New Years, we ate meals together, I have seen her dance, I know many things about her, not just her name. I saw her dressed in a leotard and tights, in her comfy sweatpants, with a skirt on for New Years, with jeans and a blouse, I saw her hair in a bun, falling on her shoulders, I saw her with glittery eye makeup, I saw her without make up even… That was why he decided to look for her one more time. In some way, he felt like she would have been happy to see him, no? Plus, he had a present for her.

'It was good, believe me. We're done'. She sat down on the floor in front of Blake, her dance partner. She was panting, her right foot probably bleeding. She looked up at him, 'We can try one more time, I can lower my arms faster…' He chucked at her attempt to control her breath and speak up. 'It was good, Alba, don't worry.' She felt like crying, again. She stretched out her leg, and massaged her aching muscles. 'We can move to another choreo next week. I'm sick of Arabian anyway.' He started to pack up his bag in the corner, they made small talk about the kids she was teaching. She stayed on the floor, stretching. He knew she was gonna stay at the school at least another 30 minutes to rehearse by herself, that was why she wasn't leaving with him. He approached her and have her a squeeze on her arm. Don't be too late, he said. She thanked him and said goodnight.

Finally alone, she finished stretching, her legs straight in front of her, her forehead connected to her knees. She got up, she looked like a ghost. Her leotards was blue today, black tights, no skirt. She walked around the room, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her arms looked lean, skinny. Her legs felt heavy, she felt bloated, hips too wide. Thighs too big, not strong enough. Maybe Rachel Montana was right, you know, maybe she was too fat to be Snow Queen, to be a ballerina even. You had pasta for lunch and it shows… She fixed her leotard strap on her shoulder and tapped her foot two times on the floor, a weird routine she had before dancing. Arms in third position, she got ready to turn. That's when Simon knocked on the door frame, making her jump. Like the first time he went to see her when she was alone, she swore in Italian. Hands pressed to her chest, she looked at him in complete shock, her chest raising rapidly. 'For fuck's sake! You need to stop this, what is wrong with you?' Her eyes wide, she took a step back from him. He smiled. 'Sorry.' He said. 'Ma che cazzo…' she mumbled. It was getting almost repetitive, seeing him at the ballet school. He had been so many times he looked like he knew her hours almost. She felt a strange pressure on her chest, seeing him untie his shoes like she told him to do weeks ago, before stepping inside the room. He seemed strangely relaxed, he seemed like he was just visiting a friend at work, like he had done a million times. She stood there, without knowing what to do with herself. He didn't approach her, just a small, shy step in her direction.

'You're dancing with that guy?' he finally asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. 'He plays the prince.'

'The prince?'

'In the Nutcracker.'

He nodded. Silence filled the room. She felt goosebumps on her arms, she realised how cold the room was cause she stopped dancing and she was sweaty.

'…so you're the princess?'

She smiled. It was the most genuine smile she ever gave him.

'I am the Arabian Coffee Princess…' she revealed in a soft tone, putting one leg behind the other, '…and Snow Queen.'

'Aah, princess and queen…' he nodded. She could see the wrinkles around his eyes. He was smiling. She bit the inside of her cheek awkwardly.

'A senior dancer got injured, so I'm covering her roles.' She explained.

'I thought you were a teacher.' She moved to the other side of the room, where her bag was sitting. He took a glance at the mirrors that were covering the entire wall on his right. He looked terribly out of place, black sweater, jeans, a heavy jacket, black mask. The fact that he wasn't wearing any shoes made him look human, like he was just a guy in his socks. He felt like his presence darkened the room. She, on the other side of the room, was barely dressed. She was putting on a black wrap top, maybe she was getting cold. She bent down to reach for it in her bag, exposing him to the back of her legs, her hamstrings stretching at the motion. He tried to look away. 'I'm dancing as well this year', she was saying. He had to pretend like he wasn't staring at her chest, while she was fixing the sweater on her waist. Maybe that was why he always visited her at ballet, to catch her when she was wearing little to no clothes. He could see her tattoos, he could memorise them. He could see the colour of her skin through the fabric of the tights. He could see her figure, her hips, her arms and legs now that they weren't hidden by jeans. She was small, she looked defenceless. 'When's the show?' He asked. She was still busy with her bag, she was turned to the side, he let his gaze travel down her spine to her ass. She said it was in March. 'How much are the tickets?' He kept going, but to that question she raised her eyes at him. She was flustered after rehearsals and her cheeks were a pretty rose colour he wanted to have imprinted in his mind. She looked at him like a deer in headlights. 'Uhm… 20$ I think.' Her tone of voice was gentle and polite, sweet like honey. 20$ wasn't that much. March she had said, he was probably free. He could go see her. Maybe. At the theatre, or wherever.

'So, why are you here?' She changed the subject, akwardly.

He blinked a few times, trying to find an appropriate answer.

'I have something for you.'

She tilted her head to the side, her chest tightening. She let go of the fabric of the sweater to push her hair behind her ears. He reached behind his back, he had a backpack which she hadn't noticed. It wasn't full, probably carrying something small. She watched him open it and pull out a single envelope. Is it a present, is it a letter? She took a step towards him. 'I thought you wanted to see it before everyone else.' She narrowed her eyes, taking the envelope he was handing her. They were standing closer, he slightly bent foreword to look at her confused expression. He let his gaze travel on her body, now that she was this close. Her fingers, fiddling with the paper. Her collarbones, the fabric of the leotard on her chest. Her ribcage moving at each breath she took. He looked at the was she was gently swaying from side to side, pointe shoes at her feet, tiny ribbons adorning her calves. She let out a gasp when she realised what she was looking at, making him focus back on her face. She raised her head, her wide eyes finding his. 'Is this the original?' She asked, whispering almost like it was a secret. He nodded, amused at her reaction. 'We received it thirty minutes ago.' He kept his tone as soft as he could, he sounded like he was talking to a child. 'Wait…' she took a step back, to relieve her neck from having to look up at him, '… fingerprints, DNA…' God, you are so so so smart, Alba. You always think about everything, this is why Laswell likes you, I get it now. He smirked under his mask, even if she couldn't see him. 'Already covered it, you can touch it.'

She smiled. It was the code they heard about thought Madison, the secret code from Serbia. Apparently, they all received this paper message and the two undercover agents were able to send them one of the copies full of details, fingerprints, DNA. And, most importantly, the infamous code. 'Am I the first one to see this?' She asked, he nodded. He felt weird, he had felt nervous from the moment he decided to sneak off base with classified evidence to bring her. It wasn't exactly legal, and Price was gonna be pissed, he had probably found out already. And he knew by now, when he went missing it was probably cause he was with Alba. Seeing her like this, however… It made it worth it. His heart was beating at a way faster pace he had ever experienced during any mission. 'I thought…' he thought about the correct way of phrasing that, well, he had stole that key piece of evidence from the lab to have her look at it before the others. 'I thought you… maybe wanted to have a look at it before your colleagues?'

She let her mouth fall open and covered it with her palm. 'You stole this?' she whispered. She was smiling, her eyes glistening. 'I borrowed it.' He replied, his tone low and muffled by the mask. The things I would do for you... Before he knew it, he was sat down on the shiny floor of the room, legs crossed in front of him. She was sitting beside him, still in her pretty ballet outfit, her legs gracefully bent to the side. She placed the paper in front of them. The message itself, at first glance, could look like a group of letters. An anagram, at best.

B, A, C, V, K, O, C…

She counted the letters, 7 columns, 9 lines. A total of 63. The letters were cut out of a news paper, each individually placed in perfect line with each other. All different sizes, all different fonts, some capital letters, some not. They got to work, in the corner of the room. She handed him a blank sheet of paper, she had a notebook for her choreos, and a pen from her bag. She instructed him to write down the capital letters. 'A… K… L, then…uhm…' her eyes were moving on the code, scanning for details, anything that could make sense. 'E, right here.' He pointed out, and she resumed her task. 'E, S…' They looked for a secret message in the uppercase letters, but with no luck. 'Read it backwards.' He suggested, ready to write the message from the end to the top. He was strangely getting into this investigative task. Especially because he was doing it with her at his side. The letters didn't form a phrase when read backwards. She suggested they read them in diagonal lines, the clever girl you are, Alba. He sighed with his paper full of letters and weird scriptures. She had stretched her legs in front of her and was letting out a yawn. He thought he'd ask her to go, since it was late and she probably had work in the morning. 'Honey would have figured it out by now', she commented. He scoffed, 'Is Honey the one with glasses or the one that looks like a rat?' She scoffed, a tilted smile. 'Roman doesn't look like a rat.'

'Whot, you like him or something?'

He registered what he said and it was too late to bite his tongue. That came out wrong. She smiled, her look fierce and proud, like she had figured out the real reason why he was there. Cause he liked her. Really much. So, did she like someone else?

'Would you have a problem with that?' She teased. Her voice was low, it travelled on his skin like warm water, it bathed him and made it impossible for him to look away from her eyes.

'It's not my business.' He was able to breath out.

She bit her lip, not happy with his answer, and debated asking him to be more precise. She looked at the strings of his sweater, against his chest. She looked at the skin of his neck, smooth and glowing under the cold lights of the room. He was pale. She looked at his thighs, the fabric of his jeans tight around his hips. His hands, one of them was fidgeting with the letter 'S' on the paper. She got closer, brushing his hand away with her own. 'Don't do that…' she urged him not to ruin the character glued to the paper. A small part of it was starting to come off. Peel off. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, his blonde eyelashes fluttering slightly at how close she had gotten when touching his hand. He had to remind himself to breathe, her face being so close, he could reach for her cheek, he could fix her hair out of her face.

'Maybe it is', she murmured, 'You're the one sitting here with me after all…' her eyes travelled on his features, exploring the skin of his forehead, adorned with a white scar on the right side, his eyes, a deep chocolate blue. 'Why are you here, Simon?' She repeated. He felt shivers down his spine, tingles though his whole body. Did she want him to confess? He came to see her cause he wanted to, and what was gonna be her reaction to that? She was gonna think he was being creepy? Would she reject him? He stayed silent, his breathing getting heavier, his eyes locked in with her own.

'I think we should go, it's getting late', she interrupted the racing of his mind. He fucked up the moment. Again.

He got up while she put shoes on, he mumbled something about bringing the envelope to the listening post to analyse. 'Have you eaten?' He asked, he was fixing his jeans, she got her bag on her shoulder. 'Uhm… I'll eat at home, I have to take Jinx out for a walk.' There it was, rejection. He felt sorry for himself, but what was he expecting? A romantic affaire with the pretty therapist everyone liked? Please… 'Don't be too late.' He commented. She stood by the side of her car, watching him leave with his head down.

'Simon.' She called. He stopped, she didn't even need to raise her voice for him to turn around, looking at her like a lost puppy. 'I'll see you tomorrow at work, yeah?' She tilted her head, a sincere smile.

'Sure, Alba.'

notes: sweeeet sweet things. will they end up together?

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[fracturedgodhead]

I am going THROUGH it rn #16

I don't know why, and this might be something for my therapist, not tumblr, but for some reason, I was wildly emotional today. I cry very little (I wish I cried more) and I almost cried five times today. I don't know what the deal is. It might be that I'm trying to kick my two easiest unhealthy coping mechanisms (reddit and idle games lol), but I am feeling unstable.

Anywho, I have an idea for what to do for the song. I like the idea of "thanatosis" or "Apparent death" as an album title for an album about that concept, or at least how it presents in humans. Masking and fawn/freeze response mostly. The practice of producing false outward presentation for the sake of safety. I don't know if I'm qualified fully to represent such a sensitive topic; a certain thing my own sister told me is ringing in my head pretty loud... I'm going to though. I just hope that I don't hurt people... or make them feel like they're not valid.

That feeling has got to be worse than death I think. Being in pain and being told that it's not real, or not that bad. I love the line "If you hate me, I think you should kill me" that comes up in 4lung's 'cluster a-ok' and a similar line somewhere in either STOMACH BOOK or Vylet Pony's discography (I can't remember. ええと、*bleh*), but I think that the concept also extends, so like "if you dismiss me, I think you should cut me" or similar. Just the idea that people should not be able to distance themselves from the consequences of their interactions using social contract. If you claim to care about me and tell me my problems aren't real, you may as well be the one holding the knife, and if you hate me, you ought to take responsibility for my death.

Actually, I think I'm articulating it wrong. I think it's more so a parallel to the biblical concept of "hating someone is killing them in your heart", but abstracted and generalized. You ought to take responsibility for the catastrophization of the consequences of your feelings and how they affect people. It's not realistic or reasonable, but it has such a seductive, punk affect to it; I wait desperately for a chance to apply it. Next time someone tries to bullshit me, I will demand that they kill me.

You message me a death threat, I send my address.

Serve your purpose, hater. This is your role, and this is mine.

Alright, those were some very vague and rambling ideas, time to turn them into actionable plans I guess *groan*.

One of the biggest problems, or I guess it's a few in a trench coat. I have no clue which of the few ideas I have in mind I want to make, and I have no idea how to make it, once I decide.

I think Vylet pony's music is probably the best template for this specific subject matter. She has such a vibrant and fun sound, even when talking about some of the darkest subjects I've heard of. Monarch of Monsters is... well I can't call it fun, even without the lyrics, but it still manages to be energetic and bouncy despite its dismal subject matter. I like it a lot, and I think it works well with the Taxxonian concept of undermining your own seriousness to get past the (automatic) defenses of the listener.

If you start your song off with a scream, that sets a completely different mood and tone than starting it with a bark, and for the listener, that effects how the entire rest of the content is interpreted. I think BONNIE (Vylet Pony, CUTIEMARKS) hits me so hard for this reason. When I first listened to it, I imagined some butch lesbian pony in a dive bar with her band singing about someone she knew when she was younger, and had strong feelings for (platonic or romantic, either way works with the song), but never confessed, and either ended up drifting apart or the friend died. The subversion of them being ponies makes the line:

"for a while I would ask 'should I fucking die' or 'who am I, should I live tonight'"

hit like a fucking cement truck. My Little Pony, or basically any kids show for that matter, doesn't discuss suicide, especially not this intelligently, so hearing it in a song with the setting and characters presumably being those from the show (or a variation of) just fucking steamrolls me every time.

I want to capture that.

I need a subversion then...

I don't know of one. I simply don't have an easy... silliness that I can draw from, all the silliness I have is recent, and I'm still learning. I want to make deeply evocative music thoouuugghhhhh.... Maybe I'm just not there yet. Maybe I just need to make what I can now.

Alright, so this is the plan: I make a song where I just try to get familiar with the software, and music in general. I will use mostly synth stuff (because that stuff hits like ASMR for me, frission for days lol), but I also need to include some instruments and vocals. I need to learn right now :c.

So, basically, forget everything else, I'm just making music to learn for now.

[spyral-out-keep-going]

Ok Hozier concert thoughts in order of the set list but also no order for the random things I remember

Awesome venue (Blossom Amphitheater). If I lived closer I’d go to so many shows. Also we drove through a little bit of the Cuyahoga National Park on our way out. It was a dark forest but would love to go back someday

Cool set! It looked like a scarf kinda, then the lighting and visuals changed it and the “scarf fringe” became the roots underground! Which like makes way more sense - it’s related to the album duh (yes I did have an edible before the show)

Opener Joy Oladokun was fantastic! Will be listening to more of her music. (Also the way she left the stage was so cool. The guitar sounded on all atmospheric and it was just neat)

Omg Hozier and band started off with De Selby pt 1 & 2 and it was magical. Like. It sounds like the album. But better even??

Also we stood up when he came out and didn’t sit down once - the energy was up!

Jackie & Wilson, From Eden - yes yes love them!

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene was another one that somehow? Was better live

Dinner and Diatribes - loved the visuals they had on the screen at the back of the main stage and off to the sides. (I posted a short clip of this one)

Speaking of I didn’t record any whole song, just tried to catch all the talking bits between songs. He named all kinds of crew (and individual thank yous. Very nice) and at the end we all sang happy birthday to one of his crew team members!

There one bit where Hozier was like if you’re down there then who’s up here on stage? And the screen shows a dude with Hozier-like hair and beard got the crowd laughing - funny guy!

Next song was Francesca - 10/10 beautiful one of my favorites I love it

It Will Come Back - excellent dirty guitar and the lows he gets to make me shiver

Like Real People Do - so pretty

I, Carion (Icarian) - SO HAPPY he played this I wanted to cry

Abstract (Psychopomp) - he introduced it by of course mentioning the animal thdid mention before they started playing that “it ends on a happy note because it died a very quick death. It was fine. It didn’t suffer. Too long. It didn’t suffer too long. Happy Tuesday” (And that is a direct quote because I got that on video). Like… Sir 😆 Happy Tuesday I guess lol

Would That I - chilling the vibe a bit more - but got the crowd harmonizing which sounded so great

Just to get the crowd hype for Too Sweet!

Almost (Sweet Music) - beautiful vibes again

Eat Your Young - his voice hitting those high notes!

And of course Take Me to Church - powerful beautiful and got the progress flag out at the end 💗

They all went off stage but he came back alone (now hair up in a ponytail!) for an acoustic Cherry Wine performance. Gorgeous

Unknown - I will sha la la anytime anywhere

Nina Cried Power - another one of my favorites! And he introduced it by of course mentioning Ms. Mavis Staples and how big and small ways we can make a difference each day, and segued into the power of protest and what it’s achieved and then basically repeated what he said at Lolla (& maybe other shows?) about calling for ceasefire and a free Palestine and contacting our representatives. Like over 5 minutes and well worth it because it needs to be said. and acted upon.

Last one was Work Song. Just a perfect end.

So many kudos to the band

And seriously a tornado touched down in the area so the venue told everyone to shelter in our cars so my friend and I watched the clouds for a funnel and heard the sirens a few times and thankfully it passed and the show went on! Just a 30 minute delay of the gate opening. I know everyone there was manifesting the end to the severe weather lol

I will definitely try to see him live again. 100% with every penny! Oh yeah and Hozier thanked everyone and recognized the money spent to see him and other artists.

Very classy guy. Quality

[call-me-lil-sunshine]

Trouble Maker's point of view

Chapter 2

Declaimer!: This is kind of a rewriting of original TFP series. This is just for fan so please no hate, some points of plot may not line with original one, sorry for that :) The main character has her own bio in previous post, you can read it but there are major spoilers, so if you want to have a full experience just jump right into my story. Enjoy <3

Small room with one little window, to see the starry sky. Bed, table, chair, what else does she need? Trouble was sitting here whole day. Just sitting. Thinking. Better to say rethinking her whole life to this point. All 10 years that she was there, on the moon, she stupidly thought that her mother was still alive. Why? If she was alive she would return to her, she would never abandon her child… So why does Trouble thought that she is still alive? That was very stupid… Tears started forming in the corners of her eyes, and immediately started running down her cheeks. Seventh time already. She couldn't stop. That's the main reason why she was still sitting in the room even though she spent 10 freaking years to finally escape the moon and find someone alive. She just couldn't stop crying.

No, why is she doing it to herself? Yes, her loved ones are dead but she finally is not alone. She can just go out and talk, and listen, and look people in the eyes! Though, almost all of transformer here look the same, all black and purple, and no face showing, absolutely different from her fellow scientists. But what was she expecting? These guy's are soldiers, warriors, of course they look tougher. Especially Optimus Prime, their leader, he looks so threatening! That made Trouble think, how powerful he is? He looks very strong… Strong… The gravity here is pretty strong. Absolutely different from the moon gravity, that is interesting… And uncomfortable, she is not used to it, she feels really heavy. And all of her fighting skills might be in question here, that though gave her the idea.

"I should train… It will certainly help me"

Yes, physical activity helps to distract yourself. That's what she was doing the last 10 years. She is an expert in abstracting from reality.

Megatron told everyone to treat this girl patiently. He was just having fun with this lonely child, who could think that such surprises will appear? He told Decepticons to call themselves Autobots for some time, and call him Optimus. Oh how he likes that, very refreshing. Life becomes fun again. Yea, of course, this is a small little lonely Autobot, it makes it 10 times funnier to mess with her. Yes, there is no constructive reason for him to do it, this girl probably won't help him, and she is absolutely no threat. Though, maybe he could make a good deal out of it, trade her for something with Optimus. He probably doesn't know her, but this guy is willing to save everyone, especially a child. That could work...

"Mister Prime."

Quiet voice broke through Megatron's thoughts. Little bot was walking beside him through the corridor of the ship. Fun begins.

"Oh, child, you feel better already? All tears gone?"

He was laughing at her inside, but outside tried to look very caring. He just thought about how Optimus would react and tried mocking him, that was surprisingly easy, he knew him very well.

"Um…" Trouble felt a little embarrassed, but, what could she do? She can't turn off her emotions. "Yes… Also, I'm not a child…"

"Well, comparing to how old I am you are certainly a child. How many cycles have you lived already?" "Eh… Cycles? H-how many Earth-spinning-around-the-sun is that?.."

Trouble looked at Megatron with a very confused eyes. Somehow she managed to show emotions even though her face was very still. Or maybe Megatron is just imagining it.

"How pathetic... don't tell me your "incredible" mother didn't teach you Cybertronian counting system?"

Megatron laughed at her, oh this stupid Autobots couldn't even teach their children to count cycles. He thought for a moment that maybe they didn't expect her to be able to survive even one cycle. That makes sense, she is so pathetically small and weak...

"She didn't have a chance..."

Trouble lowered her head, looking at the floor. There it is, sadness again. She didn't understand how rode Megatron was right now, so many years of loneliness took away her social skills. Her sadness only warmed Megatron's spark. He had no tolerance to any kind of Autobot, though this one wasn't even annoying. Maybe because she wasn't aggressive, she naively believed him, it was the funniest of all.

Trouble shook her head, trying to concentrate again.

"I wanted to ask... is there a place here where I can train?" "Train?" Megatron smirked. "What are training? Jumping and running?"

Decepticon was very skeptical about her words. She is weak and stupid, what does she even mean? But he was quiet surprised with her answer.

"Well... Running and jumping is included in my training, but I also need to train my fighting. It is affected by the different gravitation, also I thought maybe your soldiers could teach me a thing or two, I learned how to fight from the scientists you know. But I also gotta see if my shooting is affected by gravitation..."

Megatron stopped.

"Are you trying to tell me that this little weak body actually knows how to fight? I doubt that." "Well, I am definitely not as good as you, but I know a couple moves that can save my life."

Damn, she actually speaks like a grow up...

"And shooting?"

Leader of Decepticons already started rethinking everything that he planned for this weakling, when second phrase hit him.

"I am a sniper. Very good sniper."

Megatron brought the girl to the training room. It was large and obviously armored, so that no one would break through the walls of the ship with their attacks. It is not clear who exactly could do such a thing, because all the Decepticons were too weak to do such a thing, and Megatron, after so many years of fighting, could definitely control himself, although who knows.

Trouble looked around the room. She wasn't used to training indoors, the Moon had… the Moon for that. You go outside and shoot at targets. And here, some fancy devices everywhere, some swords, cannons, all that… Yea, this is not training with scientists, these are real soldiers.

"It's interesting in here." "Huh, you probably have never seen how real warriors train..." "Oh really? You think so?"

Trouble didn't like how "Optimus" talked down to her, how she could have seen if she was alone on the moon for 10 years? And before that she only had scientists by her side, who obviously were not very skilled warriors? Megatron was surprised by such rudeness. He thought that the Autobots were all very polite from birth, yes, such a strange and unjustified stereotype. Although… It's not important, the important thing is that obviously the girl without society completely forgot about all the rules of behavior, well, ok…

"You're too rude for an Autobot" "You too."

Megatron's eyes widened in surprise, and the girl continued to look at him with a completely emotionless look, although now it seemed to him that she was even a little angry. But to Trouble's surprise, the man…Laughed??? He was amused by the way Trouble answered him. She was really brave, for someone who couldn't take down Megatron even in a parallel universe. The girl really didn't understand what exactly made the older man laugh, but it seems like it was a good sign…

"Come on, show what you can do, I don't have all day."

Megatron said wiping away a tear that had rolled down his eye from laughing. Trouble pulled her sniper rifle from behind her back and scanned the room. There were several targets in front of her, all at different distances from her. She intercepted the rifle more conveniently, and with three light shots hit exactly in the middle of each of the targets. The man just grunted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, anyone can hit static targets. Although… Knockout probably wouldn't, he's a terrible shot. But he's more of an exception to the rule…"

Megatron was not strongly impressed, although it was obvious that the girl could shoot. Trouble looked around again, a bomb caught her eye, a small portable explosive device. Trouble came up and took it in her hands, held it a little in her hand…

"What are you going to do?" "Will this room withstand an explosion?" "Of course, it was built for that." "Great."

Trouble moved closer to the exit to leave more free space in the room. She tossed the bomb into the opposite wall, and as it flew, Trouble turned her back to it and aimed her rifle in the direction of the bomb. Megatron was a little confused by what was happening, it all looked like some kind of nonsense to him. But when the girl fired, and at that moment the bomb exploded somewhere under the ceiling, with a very loud bang.

If this room hadn't been designed just for such situations, they probably wouldn't have had a ceiling anymore, but luckily, it was intact. Megatron was surprised, he covered himself with his hand when he felt the explosion, so he remained intact, but apparently some of the devices in that room were ruined forever. Yes, Megatron was really surprised, even astonished. In shock that this little girl came up with such a thing, in shock that she managed to do it, and in shock that she aimed successfully. Maybe to the other transformers it would just be a show off or some kind of clever trick, maybe she activated the bomb when she set it off? Maybe she tricked him! But when the smoke from the explosion dissipated a little, the man saw only traces of the explosion itself, and no damage from the shot, so she really hit…

The man stood quietly, thinking about everything he saw, while Trouble returned, inspecting her work, and quietly watching how the elder reacted to it. He clearly wasn't angry, even though she expected him to be. Her scientists often quarreled with Trouble when she did even minor damage in the laboratory, but "Optimus" was… Of a different opinion. The man was very intelligent, he perfectly understood what this meant. And that's why he was now very seriously considering what to say to her.

"It's... Impressive..." "Really?"

Megatron looked at the girl in surprise. But one glint in her eyes was enough to understand — she had never heard a praise. At least not the last 10 years… She's just a child. A child who can and wants to kill Megatron… He needs to act fast.

"Yes, I've never seen such sharp shooters… In our war, to be honest, I haven't seen snipers in a long time." "Really? Why? Snipers are very useful on the battlefield-" "Yes, I know, snipers can easily kill all the important transformers, just hide them better and give them a stronger rifle… That's why I… That's why Megatron haunted down them all, they ruined all his plans… That's why.. ."

Megatron moved closer to the girl, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing tightly, copying Optimus. He always did that when he wanted to support other Autobots.

"The Decepticons aren't expecting you, maybe you'll be the one to end this war forever, you could become a hero…" "Could I kill Megatron?"

The elder hesitated a little… He knew that it was quite possible…

"Yes, you could kill him."

To be continued...

[erectedingold]

Blog Post #2

hi again… it’s been a minute but it’s now 2025, i’m on a T-Break & i’m bored. i’m laying in bed with a faint smell of cigarettes & listening to mac demarco.

i’m no longer the person i was 6 months ago. i still feel the way ive felt but im a new person. ive changed. i’ve grown. i’ve lived. i’ve been thinking about how these 4 walls i’ve lived with since elementary school will now become a stranger to me. they’ll catches glimpse & pieces of the person i become. my septum is pierced now, i have new clothes, & my music is different :)

i find out in a couple days if i get accepted into my second pick college & just saw today that my top pick viewed my application 😭 my top is NYU, that school is like crazy & with a 12% acceptance rate i don’t think ill be accepted but i saw that viewed my video applications on youtube & that’s scary! they probably hit a big red rejection on it but i was open & honest on my work & that’s how ill be from now on. what is the point of creation if not personal. i want to confront the thoughts nobody wants to speak about publicly out of fear.

i’m a little scared of college but also not at the same time. i’m ready to leave. i’m ready to forget. i see people that are closer to someone i used to sleep skin to skin with & when i drive down the roads we once used to drive my mind sputters. but that’s the past. college will be my reset in the city. or i just go to a different town for school. i’m ready to leave this town behind & the people who live here. i hate everyone here & everyone that reminds me of someone. fuck you.

my mini series is almost done, i’ve been slacking a lot on two episodes but i’ll get it down before may… hopefully… LMAO. it’s very personal & that’s scary. but i wish to be unapologetically me. i’ve started doing that as i realized i’m gone in 7 months. i started speaking my mind & doing what i want. i’ll soon be independent, let me act like it. i’ve always felt temporary in everyone’s life but now this is the ultimate isolation, i will lose everyone i’ve known since elementary school & the group of friends i have built over the past 4 years of school. i could cry. but the tears i shed won’t stay either, they’ll dry up & disappear like everything else.

after i finish this mini series i have an epic i want to write. maybe it’ll be a poem like the green knight then converted to the screen. or maybe i write a fictional book & then adapt my own book for the screen but who knows. maybe ill just write a screenplay :P

i think my work will be taking a more abstract & experimental approach along with spiritual. i don’t believe in anything specific like a god but the alchemist changed my views so much & is now my favorite book. thank you ms. labella :) im also reading the life of pie right now! long ass book. but after reading the alchemist i wish to live by the philosophy the author follows as well.

i’ve been chilling, watching movies, reading books, & just expanding my knowledge on whatever. ive been on this “break” of making content & no longer chasing views. i’m focused on the creation of my garden right now. when the butterflies come there will be plenty of flowers for them to adore & find comfort in.

life has been expanding. soon i’ll be on my odyssey of life & will follow my personal legend until i die. santiago is literally me.

i watched this movie called “the cloud in her room” yesterday & i think if i made a movie it would be like that tbh. made me want to write so bad & just go out to make a movie like it. we’ll see :)

also big update: i’m an amc stubs member now! godbless. LMAO

but yeah, i’ve been okay, i’ve been better, but 2025 will be my year. who i am doesn’t change instantly the way the number does, but i’ll make progress. this year is just the beginning of the rest of my life.

thank you, diego muñoz.

[pieofdeath]

god. pacing. this is ROTD spiff so badly its INCREDIBLE.

so like. i DID intend ROTD spiff to be an asshole!! lord barkis is SUCH an asshole in the movie! he's visibly older than victoria by a good bit. he flirts with her in a way that just feels. sooo gross. there's a scene in the movie that I didn't adapt to the fic because I didn't want ANOTHER pov change where Lord Barkis (IIRC) talks to a portrait of Victoria and says something along the lines of how she wont have to suffer this union for very long. BRO. YOU'RE IN THEIR DAMN HOUSE STILL. I intended ROTD spiff to be similar! just rude and an asshole and unrepentant about his crimes!

and then he just. wasn't. and it's mostly my own fault jakdfjs.

My first mistake was that I made Spiff too young. I made him too close to my age, which made me keep thinking about how I would've felt- I'm turning 20 in march, and I made him 20 in Jan of 1877, which makes him 17 in 1874 when he murders Dan.

My second, and primary, mistake is that I thought about him for too long. When writing the final chapter, I went. huh. Spiff is 20 here, a few years younger than Kevin and Seán (who are 21 and 22-almost-23 in Jan 1877 respectively). and he killed a guy at 17. That's gotta fuck a guy up.

and then i couldnt stop thinking about it. ok. abstracted, we have a guy that has killed a guy and planned to kill another and is still literally only 20. age is not an excuse for Actual Premeditated Murder but you can't tell me that it didn't fuck him up, at least a little. and add that on top of the possibility that he killed the only person who genuinely, really cared about him. how long do you think he deliberated on if he was going to go through with his plan. do you think there was a span of time where he truly let himself love dan. do you think answering "yes" or "no" to those questions makes it worse?

i reblogged this post into the rotd tag back in April. i think that's a good summary of ROTD spiff. a guy who was unloved (woa what who said that) and couldn't handle being loved and made the worst mistake of his life. and proceeded to keep making it because then he could pretend he meant it. spiff can be summed up by "hubris and hates it" i think.

there's a lot of similarities between spiff and jim I think. interpret that as you will. there's actually a really rough idea for an alternative universe where everything turns out fine because jim or grim or someone finds out about spiff's plan to kill Seán before he goes through with it. jim and spiff are murder buddies and rtspiff reconcile- the trio shifts into a strange little polycule in that verse.

and while writing the finale I started toying around with the idea of writing his perspective, and then i listened to a few songs that gave me a few ideas for future events and it was all over. He hasn't left my head. I'm thinking about him ALL THE TIME. I'm only barely exaggerating.

hes a squeaky toy to me. im chewing on him. I'm making him cry. I'm making it better but I'm making him cry.

woa hold on i just rambled a LOT I'm so sorry aksjdfksa I need to go listen to his playlist maybe then ill feel better

[odetoagirl]

step forth

pray, make me a little braver, may i say the words and find freedom? i still have crushing weighty hope which cloaks me, better i keep it on to keep me warm or should i risk it all, throw it off and step out into darkness; into light?

i kneel outside your door, as a godless freak might, what is it with a child's persevering want for love, surely no love exists greater than this suffering i feel at the expense of the chase. upon her death should i be let out of this cage or does she take the key when she leaves. i should just say, i could go to her now and beg and pray, and end the night in a fount of unconditional love and understanding. but i am so timid and shy and i know before i would say a word i would just cry, and anger her too.

but there is no other side, and i don't know where or why i stay in hiding. i know what it is to be unknown, and this side, so unbothering to me when i used to see her every day, now eats my alive every day i do not see her, i can feel the opportunity fading away, there's such little space left for us to get it. so surely i must just step off that cliff, we argue often enough. at worst this could only end in crying or cruelty, and is that not where i already am?

but why does it have to be me for fucks sake she is my mother is she not? how hard is it to ask about me, she knows nothing about me, she could show interest by asking me anything as a way to reach out it doesn't even have to be something scary i promise. and i know i know she shows her care, rarely, in other ways; she fills the fridge, she bought me a dehumidifier for my damp room. but surely to be loved is to be known and we are utter strangers. she knows a little of my little sister, so why nothing of me. is she as scared of me as i am of her? does she fear me, resent me, hate me? does she worry she would not understand me if we spoke? that we are too far gone

suddenly i remember why i do not talk to her. because what could i say to such a woman. lets think clearly, through my tears. i can not speak about ideas, my ideas, the things i write or think or feel, she has expressed frequently of her misunderstanding of philosophy and psychology, abstraction and metaphor. okay, so we shall think of something tangible instead, start small, lets not small talk about the life i make up to tell her. It's a lie, and it's about all we talk about regarding myself, i can do better. the truth is i do nothing but drugs (off the table, certainly) my degree (philosophy, struck) and see my friends. what would i say of my friends? that they are smart, funny, and how exactly is this relevant to making her get to know me? okay, so not friends.

what exactly is it then when i say i need her to understand me then? do i even need her understanding or do i simply need to know that she wants to? maybe just that would be enough. does she know the way this feels, i will never raise my children this way, if i ever found out they felt as i did my heart would wilt. they never will. i will always want to understand them. i know what i want, deep down. i want her to fucking be a peer to me, actually see me as an almost equal, i want her not to be who she is. i want her to ask me about my sexuality but not in a pointed way, in a soft, open way because she knows how weak i am i know she does. i need her void of judgement, reaching out across a room to me. my immune system is shitty but my mind and soul are so much weaker than my body. i think she thought that teaching robustness was about exposure to the elements, independence, resourcefulness. and in some ways it is, but i am not a baby puffin you can throw off of a cliff. i have no system, no support, no one to listen, no anchor, no lighthouse, no home. i don't know where i'm going, i have no idea about anything. i carry every single thing i have ever experienced around with me, never a moment of catharsis or a leak to drain the dam. but my walls were only as strong as they were when i was born, i grew up in desolation and no one ever taught me how i might reinforce all these feelings, and i am so weather worn that soon, without her, it all might just burst forth, and my death will be a sweet release of pressure, no faith, no bravery.

[mosscoveringitall]

1/5/2024 or: Different Apples

The only cool thing I did in college was become a DJ on the radio. I did many, many uncool things in college: I was in improv club, I joined an honor society, I was an RA. These things were mostly awful experiences that swept me into curtains of laziness and melancholy I had never encountered myself within before, but I was always proud of being a DJ. When I moved to New York, I wanted to become a DJ again, even though I was never all that good at it. My friend and I found out that another friend had paid $25 to become an internet DJ on an internet pirate radio (a decidedly uncool type of pirate broadcasting). We paid the $25, and are well on our way to activating ourselves in front of an audience of nobody in particular to talk about nothing of importance. I am listening to my other friend’s radio show right now. The songs she chose are whiny and listless and warbly and beautiful. It makes me like her more than I already do.

I was a specialty jazz DJ in college, and I also ran a show with my best friend in the whole world where we played a variety of genres. This show always had a theme, or a story that we assigned the night, to provide us a bit of a challenge. For example, we would describe a castle through the rooms, each room with its own song. Or we would go on an interstellar journey and become mired in a black hole’s gravitational pull. Or we were four different types of apples. Most of the shows were bad, and my best friend always found a way to play Elliot Smith, but we had lots of fun, and that’s what I was proud of. Being a DJ gave me a reason to listen to lots of music I had never heard of before and find reasons to like it enough to listen to it standing up and focusing mostly just on how it sounded. I have found then, as I find now, that listening to and loving music is one of the biggest and most sluggish pastimes one can have. It exhausts me.

There is a way I have to build playlists, and I can’t like music organized together unless it exists in this way. Each playlist has to have an image, with a 55px-thick border, and a slightly abstracted nonsense title with an emoji in front of it. I make three of these a year, unless it’s a genre playlist, which I can make as many of as I want. One in the summer, one in the fall, and one in the spring. I designed this system when I was in school, because I was a radio DJ and I was sad and angry one semester, and listlessly, deliriously happy the next quite often. Until I wasn’t. By that time, I had started dating my girlfriend. She tells me that she doesn’t listen to much music anymore, because it can overwhelm her to think about how much music she likes. She says that songs make her cry too easily, that there’s too much history in every song to take on anything new. She also says she’d rather listen to audiobooks because they calm her down and music stresses her out. I have, according to Spotify, listened to almost 20,000 less minutes of music the years that I have dated her. This bothers me immensely, even if I’m not sure why.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c4. The waltz of the Snowflakes.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Harden my heart, Quarterflash.

abstract: he can get fucked, and his captain too. it's Jude if you haven't noticed. I have nothing more to add really, he's an ass and I'm not getting paid enough to deal with this shit, see ya. also, forgive me for the swearing it's a real problem I know!!

Well. That didn't exactly go to plan. Simon Whatever, what the fuck is your problem? She called a friend while driving home. 'Salvo, io gli volevo mettere le mani addosso, stu scemu…’ She was going over the speed limit, holding her phone with one hand. ‘Una merda Salvo, mi hanno mandato via come una cretina, son andata, ho parlato, mi ha detto non si puoi fare guagliù, chi cazz si pe me dicr chell c’agg fa oh!’

Now, to all my readers, I will translate. Jude speaks dialect when she's mad, bare with her. Her voice usually drooped an octave when she spoke it to accommodate the guttural and rough sounds of her language. Swear words that would make your racist grandad cry. She was calling Salvatore, she met him in 2021, he was currently deployed in South Korea. She told him she wanted to hit him, she said, they sent me away without hearing me out, they said what you're suggesting can't be done. 'Scusa, cosa hai proposto tu?' She loved Salvo, he was so understanding, he could read her mind. It was refreshing, when she found out he was from the same country as her. Speaking a bit of Italian with him was a break from all the English, the accents and the words she didn't know how to pronounce. 'Cosa ho detto, ho proposto che lo seguissero, anche grazie al cazzo vorrei dire… ( I refuse to translate all the swearing, Jude.) Questi vogliono aspettare e non fare nulla, però mi fanno perdere tempo con ste cazz'e riunioni!' (This means, 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.')

Salvo tried to reassure her that it wasn't really her problem, to which she replied, Arash was her patient. He asked her about the captain, she commented he stood there, watched her argue with his guard dog Lieutenant without saying a word. Coward, she called him. Who's the Lieutenant, he then asked. She told him, maybe she messed up the name a bit, but he seemed to recognise him. 'No, veramente?' He asked. 'Il Fantasma'. That made sense, you know, the mask an all. He told her he was quite famous for his mask and his story, which he didn't fully know. Lots of trauma I think, you could work with him. She parked her car in front of the dance school and got her bag. 'Non me ne fott, possono fare quello che vogliono, non sono io che ci rimetto. Lui nu strunz, fammi dire…' She explained she didn't care anymore and that they could do whatever they wanted. He was a dick, that's what she added, probably referring to the famous Lieutenant.

The girls could sense she wasn't having the best day and didn't want to mess with her. They stood quiet and avoided their usual chatting. They did warm up, barre and some center, she sent them off early. 'Miss Alba, we're gonna start rehearsals soon? For the Nutcracker.' It was Luna that spoke. She almost forgot. 'Yes girls next time.' Shit.

The Waltz of the Snowflakes. That's what she was gonna have to teach them. The owner of the school was crazy, the piece was way too difficult for her class. She didn't have time or strength to explain the piece was not meant for girls that young, she would have to simplify it. She put on a video on her laptop, trying to remember the best she could the original piece. She stripped of her leg warmers and her black shrug. Her mind kept wandering off the meeting with Price, not letting her concentrate. She was mad. Not because she didn’t get her way, they were the ones dying in the Middle East, not her. But because it was fucking humiliating. As a woman as well, you know. Maybe she made a mistake, going in there looking all pretty. But again, why would she sacrifice herself just to earn some basic respect? After she failed her pirouettes for the third time, she decided it was time to go home. She would talk to Arash and, if needed, follow him on her own.

notes: Since this is a shorter chapter (I've been incredibly busy with uni and work), here are some details about Jude:

height: 5’2’’ - eye colour: green - hair colour: blonde

traits: mole on her cheek, slightly crooked nose. mole on her right butt cheek, scar on her knee. at least 30 smaller moles all over her body. small boobie queen.

if she was a colour: dark blue

if she was an animal: killer whale

if she was a place: a forest

if she was a food: spicy pho - motto: for the plot

favourite position in bed: on top/doggy

favourite part of her body: eyebrows, hips

what she looks for in boys: loyalty, someone stable, good manners, honesty.

tattoos: big flower on her back, her grandmas house on ribcage with ivy on it, lavander flower between breasts, dagger on right arm, wine glass and whisky sour ingredients. nike (goddess of victory) statue on left arm, goth looking stars and white ferrari doodle. oui, non written on both knees. heaven written on ankle made with stick and poke needle.

loves to talk about: time, space, her dog, humanity, world wars, greek mythology, vegan recipes, life after death.

do not talk about: her family, weight, fire, not being the best in school and at work.

she would like to: try hotpot, paint pottery, start a podcast, go on more hikes, visit thailand, get another dog, attend a wedding.

she will never: have kids, get married, go to australia, go skiing again after she fell, have plastic surgery, drink beer.

if you’d like to know more stuff about her let me know!!

notes: Salvatore, Salvo for short, is a common southern Italy male name. Salvatore means 'the saviour', Salvo means 'safe'. Full translation of the speech: 'Salvo, I wanted to hit him, this fucker. It went to shit Salvo, they sent me away like I was stupid, I went there I told them what I thought, he said we can't do that, who the hell are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?' 'Sorry, what did you say to them?' 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.'

'No, veramente? Il Fantasma' means 'no, seriously? The Ghost.'

notes: if you want to hear what the dialect sounds like you can hear it in the tv series 'Gomorra' on YouTube.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[efa-solheim]

Efa’s mind—an abstract race of colors—was then interrupted by a sudden shift in path as Viktor diverted them into a hallway. She almost wouldn’t have noticed this if it hadn’t been for his voice finding its way through. Her eyes snapped up.

Oh, how humiliating this was. A deeper degree of indignity mixed in with the mental flood. Stop it, stop it, stop it—stop panicking. Stop panicking. Nothing happened—absolutely nothing happened and you’re panicking, Efa. Get a grip. He’s looking at you. Stop it. You’re still panicking. Breathe, or don’t breathe, you’ll start crying. Why is he looking at you like that? Stop panicking. Fucking breathe. Your hands are shaking and he knows it—stop shaking. Nothing happened. It’s just thoughts, nothing happened. He’s not going to die, you’re wrong—you thought wrong. That’s not what he meant. Even if he did, you can’t do anything about, it so stop. Stop panicking. Stop panicking. Stop pani—

A hand pressed her head to his shoulder, firm and gentle. She barely blinked, almost as though she couldn’t afford to, otherwise tears would come. It was senseless of her to be feeling so much, with nowhere for it all to go. She listened to his damp voice through his coat. Her heart hurt so badly it made her sick, and it crept up her throat, making her jaw ache. She wanted to speak, to let him know she heard him. Tearfully, she took in whatever breath she could manage, croaking out a poor excuse of an apology.

“I’m sorry,” she voiced out, through his shoulder. She wasn’t even sure he heard her; she prayed so. The pain her chest couldn’t manage another effort. She felt awful inside. How could the night turn to this, after hours upon hours of the most genuine connection with someone she’d had in years? How could she cry at a time like this, like it was all for nothing? All happy chemicals had gone. What for? It was unfair—to both of them. That aching crawled to her teeth, threatening any chance of speaking again. But she persisted, a duty to answer him subsiding her pain. “I’m so sorry,” she echoed. “I need to…” A dam cracked inside her, a tear falling on his coat. Holy shit, please just say something—anything. “I don’t know why this is happening. I’m trying to get a grip.”

when Efa agreed to go to dinner, viktor felt even more excited than he had before. ever since he was little, he’d dreaded endings, afraid they meant he’d never see the people he said goodbye to again. to know she still wanted to spend time with him made him thrilled.

grabbing his coat from the rack near the door, he led her out of the lab, locking it behind him before they made their way outside. it was cold, and when he noticed she had no scarf, he offered his own, unwilling to let a friend go cold.

“here we are,” he declared when they reached the diner, the bell jingling when they stepped inside. “it’s never too busy here, which i like. order whatever. i’ll pay.”

( @efa-solheim )