#I guess the best way to fix it is to avoid triggers

[kakusu-shipping]

God I love Valentines (I've had a migraine for two days now)

[sweetiecutie]

🖤Fuck or die🖤

Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!

Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit

A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still

It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.

And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.

You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.

Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.

Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.

- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:

- Y/n, get out of here!

Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.

You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.

- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.

- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.

His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.

- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?

Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.

- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.

- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.

- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.

- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.

He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.

- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?

Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.

- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?

You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.

- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.

Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.

You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.

- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?

Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.

- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.

You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.

- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.

- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:

- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.

You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.

- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.

You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.

With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.

- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.

Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.

He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.

Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.

- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.

A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.

- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?

His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.

- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.

With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.

- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.

Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.

One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.

Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:

- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.

Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.

Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.

A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.

It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.

You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.

- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.

As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.

Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.

And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:

SEE YOU SOON ♡

Slasher! König Masterlist

Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3

[traumacatholic]

would you pray for me? i'm really struggling with despair and like a bunch of other sudden mental health issues that i was able to put off for a while but are now back with a vicious vengeance. the only way for me to fix the mental and emotional distress i'm in is to confront the very thing that's triggering it--- which i want to avoid at all costs. i need like miraculous level strength to deal with this. please pray that i can... i don't know. keep moving forwards, i guess, even when i feel like i need to have seven mental breakdowns.

I'm so sorry to hear that you're struggling so much, of course I will keep you in my prayers. And I pray that you are able to find comfort, peace, and safety.

Some prayers that you might find helpful:

Novena to St. Jude - Desperate Situations and Hopeless Cases

Prayers for the Intercession of St. Dymphna

Psalm 51

Morning Prayers to start your day (You may find it helpful to try and find some quiet time for yourself each morning in prayer)

I have some prayers that I typed up here that you may find helpful

I'm going to copy across some typed up prayers that you may also find helpful, they'll be under the readmore

Prayer to Your Guardian Angel O Angel of Christ, holy guardian and protector of my soul and body, forgive me of everything I have done to offend you every day, and protect me from all influence and temptation of the evil one. May I never offend God by my sin. Pray for me to the Lord, that He may make me worthy of the grace of the All-holy Trinity, and of the Most Blessed Mother of God, and of all the Saints. Amen.

Prayers in Time of Need Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom. Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. Blessed is Your name, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.

-x-

O God, our help in time of need, Who are just and merciful, and Who inclines to the supplications of His people. Look down upon me and have mercy on me and deliver me from the trouble that now besets me. Deal with us not according to our iniquities, but according to Your manifold mercies, for we are the works of Your hands, and You know our weaknesses. I pray to you to grant me Your divine helping grace, and endow me with patience and strength to endure my hardships with complete submission to Your Will. Only You know our misery and sufferings, and to You, our only hope and refuge, I flee for relief and comfort, trusting in Your infinite love and compassion, that in due time, when You know best, You will deliver me from this trouble, and turn my distress into comfort. We then shall rejoice in Your mercy, and exalt and praise Your Holy Name, O Father, Son and Holy Spirit, both now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen

-x-

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

-x-

Where bitter sorrows overcome us, there will Patience and Rest be revealed.

Where the torment of despair dwells in the soul, there will shine the ineffable Light of Divinity!

Console the fainthearted, strengthen the weak, bestow softening and enlightenment upon embittered hearts. Heal Thine ailing people, O All-merciful Queen!

Bless the minds and hands of our physicians, that they might serve as instruments of the All-powerful Physician, Christ our Savior.

We pray before Thine Icon, that Thou mightest truly live with us, O Sovereign Lady!

Stretch out Thine hands, filled with healing and cures, O Joy of the sorrowful, Consolation in afflictions, that having speedily received miraculous help, we may glorify the Life-creating and Undivided Trinity, the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages.

Amen.

-x-

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the savior of those who perish and the consolation of all those who are in distress, thou seest my misery, thou seest my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me—I am powerless; give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief: Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me, chase grief away from me, chase my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

Prayers Before Any Task Lord Jesus Christ, my God, You have said, "Apart from me You can do nothing." In faith I embrace Your words, Lord, and I entreat Your goodness. Help me to carry out the work I am about to begin, and to bring it to completion. To You I give glory, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

-x-

Almighty God, our Help and Refuge, who knows that we can do nothing right without Your guidance and help; direct me by Your wisdom and power, that I may accomplish this task and, whatever I do according to Your divine will, so that it may be beneficial to me and others and to the glory of Your holy Name. Amen.

-x-

My Lord and Savior, You became man and labored with Your hands until the time of Your ministry. Bless me as I begin this work. Help me to bring it to completion. Lord, enlighten my mind and strengthen my body, that I may accomplish my task according to Your will. Guide me to bring about works of goodness to Your service and glory. Amen.

Prayer Toward the Unknown O Lord, You who steadied the hand of Peter as he began to sink on the stormy sea, if you are with me, no one is against me. Grant to me the shield of faith and the mighty armor of the Holy Spirit to protect me and guide me to do Your will. The future I put into Your hands, O Lord, and I follow You to a life in Christ. Amen

Prayer for Acceptance of God's Will Lord, I do not know what to ask of You. You know better than me what my needs are. You love more than I know how to love. Help me to see clearly my real needs which I do not see. I open my heart to You. Examine and reveal to me my faults and sins. I put all trust in You. I have no other desire than to fulfill Your will. Teach me how to pray. Pray in me. Amen.

[ming-yourworkisamazing]

#spoileralert!!!

First, World Trigger just updated chapter 250 and 251 on MangaPlus if you didn't know.

My strongest feeling after finished these chapters is they feel shorter than the last ones, as they are about small talks (not sure if this the right word) between agents.

But it's never boring to see how the characters react to the special assignment. Yuba finally gets to shine, and Arafune is so underrated. Ikoma never fails to make me laugh, and Suwa leading the team is as good as always. Taichi is a genius, no one can't tell me otherwise, his mind is brilliant in his own way. This makes me believe that there is no such thing as a comedy relief character in World Trigger, at least in Border, every agents are the walking definition of being capable and humorous at the same time.

Show out for the screen time of Usami and Konami!!! The way they believe in Osamu's ability is peak, and Konami imitating Hyuse is such a mood.

Osamu, my love, the shining star in those chapters, again makes me surprised. He's such a complicated character, but Ashihara-sensei always does a god work in showing Osamu's strength. The way Osamu probably weighting the pros and cons of breaking or fixing the door wasn't exactly shown on the manga, but through Usami's words, I imagine it just fine. Osamu's flexibility is one of his best quality I guess. He doesn't stick to a strategy just because it has the higher point, but he chooses the lesser one with the vision on the overall earning points in the process. That's my Osamu for you!!!

And you no what, the new development of Shiki Sayako's side effect makes me yell and laugh in delight. Because, you see, in my latest update on my World Trigger fic, I had done a research in each agent's Trion stat. And imagining my surprise when I saw Sayako's Trion was a 7 even though she's an operator (operators have average lower Trion stat as it doesn't affect their ability).

If you aren't familiar with Border's Trion stat, then let me tell you something:

Jin - future foresee side effect

Murakami - enhancing learning ability

Kageura - empathy side effect (can feel people's emotions towards him)

All of them have a 7 Trion stat too! And Osamu, our storytelling angel, only has a 2, although he is a exceptional case. While Kuga, the Shonen protagonist, also has a 7 Trion stat.

Yeah, so I was honestly wondering if Ashihara-sensei has any hidden motives when putting those stats out, but I was leaning on how it emphasizes that Sayako chose to become an operator because she loved its job and wanted to avoid people.

And you all know the outcome. Literally just a few days later, at least when the memories are still fresh in my mind, new chapters came out with she having a side effect!? It's like all foreshadow before.

P/s: In case you forgot, side effects suppose to be the rare enhancing ability of individuals with high Trion stat, so 7 must be counted as a high amount of Trion. Not all people with high Trion have side effect though, so it is super rare and important.

[mildlycursedhistoricalobject]

Can I talk about how people talk about attachment styles? Because like, whether or not people should be using attachment theory, they are, and some of the stuff they’re saying is so shit.

Like my therapist from a few years ago went over attachment theory, and I would fall into the avoidant category. Which I know makes me a difficult person to date, and I’m very aware of my triggers (I have ptsd) and I make sure I communicate with my partners when I’m feeling disconnected and I try to handle that as best I can.

However, all I keep seeing when attatchment theory is brought up is people saying not to date an avoidant under any circumstances and that it’s “not worth it” and they’re awful people and their trauma isn’t an excuse to be “abusive.” And like, yeah, I totally understand why people would have those reactions (and I’m not condoning emotional manipulation or abuse) especially if they’ve been hurt before. I mean, I freely admit that I can be difficult to be in a relationship with, and if someone doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me because of it, I respect that too.

But saying that “avoidants” shouldn’t be allowed to date, or aren’t worth love is just so fucked up. I’m aware that I need to work on myself and my relationships harder than most people, and that ensuring I can be intimate comes from me first, but I’m still a person.

Idk, so many articles are about “how to cope when your partner is avoidant” and I understand why, and I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt by someone like me. But half the time I’m trying to find a resource that’ll help me stop beung avoidant and all I really find is people telling me I shouldn’t date until I’m “fixed.” Sentiments like these are not helpful by any means, and it really just reinforces the belief that I should be better off alone even though I crave closeness, which is kinda the whole deal with an avoidant attatchment style as it is.

It just feels like people are understanding about mental health issues until it becomes something they don’t understand. Or until it becomes something that’s socially unacceptable. People seem to understand the need to ask for reassurance, but the need to ask for space? Apparently that’s too far.

I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say here, but my main point is, when we’re looking at theories or therapy speak, I really think there needs to be more of an awareness that real people actually do struggle with these things. “X attatchment style” isn’t something we should be throwing around like an accusation and it shouldn’t be a death sentence for dating. I see this kind of thing a lot with personality disorders too and it fucking sucks, it really does.

Mental illness shouldn’t be supported only when it’s something “acceptable” though I hesitate to use that term because pretty much any symptom of any mental illness is treated in the same way. I’m just tired I guess, and I think we need to be more careful than we are when talking about these issues.

[warvariations]

Hello, I also hope my anon is not triggering atm. And i wish you all the best for these new steps. Thank you for i have been following you for years (maybe ten??). I relate very much with what you told about losing your mind sometimes and then saying hurtful/extreme stuff to the partner. I also live with a very ‘softer ’ -minded amab partner and i was wondering, how do you manage to deal with the guilt of those moments, if your partner doesn’t have/do this kind of hurtful behaviour also ? I often think i’m a horrible person for this and he’s like an angel, which is also crazy..

Yes that's exactly what I've started thinking of myself too. But I also resent him a little bit bc to me it's because he's a man that he can be so soft whereas I feel like I need to maintain a baseline of anger in life to survive. I feel like without my anger I'm nothing and I deserve my anger and people should let me have it because it's a result of their privilege. It's not all so black and white but it's the way I feel. Sometimes I think that my partner should find himself someone less traumatized and I should find myself someone more traumatized so I would feel less fucked up and horrible and he wouldn't have to deal with whatever is wrong with me. I feel like I'm slowly making him like, physically ill. I've never felt like I was a 'bad person' before I got into this relationship, in my family going insane and then being normal again is a daily thing, I just thought this was kinda normal behavior and everyone has a meltdown every now and then. I guess not. Sometimes I feel bad even for my jokes, like they're too dark, or I'm too negative. Idk like, when I talk to my best friend who has their fair share of trauma I feel like a good and wholesome person but compared to my partner I'm like, a monster. I try really hard to stay calm but I have really bad PMDD and I spend a week+ out of every month completely confused and possessed by a demon and during that week I can NOT control myself. It's already a lot of effort not to break my head against something. Partner basically said that if this doesn't change he's going to leave. For now I'm trying to avoid doing anything during the worst week of the cycle in order to avoid triggers but everything is a trigger the last few days before my period. I think testosterone would fix me but I'm scared of developing other issues and having regrets and regret is a big OCD theme for me. None of this answered your question I'm sorry, I feel a lot of guilt and I just sit with it and try to do better next time but at some point I always fail again.

[lover-of-mine]

Thank you for your answer it really cleared up the whole coordinator thing as someone that doesn't know how shows work it got very confusing and also thanks for indulging my asks :)

Also I've seen a couple of people saying the kitchen scene might be more in episode 5 where they will resolve their conflict there and like it make sense but dragging a buddie tension for two episodes doesn't seem really on brand with the show. Like unless it's the catastrophes episodes or the lawsuit (even then it was resolved very fast) they don't drag on tensions like this especially if we only have 10 episodes and buck and eddie aren't the only ones in the show. Also, I doubt Eddie would hold a grudge against buck cause of an accident happening on the basketball court even if some words are thrown out (it ain't worse than that groceries scene). What do you think?

But I'm biased cause I won't be able to watch episode 5 until Sunday, so my heart would be tortured for two days and not able to get my fill on tumblr to help me cope, lol

Honestly, I think the loft scene is the last scene of 7x04, since we know Buck and Eddie are working together on 7x05 and the scene kinda feels like an end of episode scene? It could be that they are awkward and then Eddie shows up at the end of 7x05 to clear the air, but I'm guessing it is from 7x04. I'm guessing the progression might be hangar, station, basketball, Buck spiraling with Maddie, loft, unless the basketball is toward the end there, then maybe it would be more stuff happening in the middle, you end the episode with Buck spiraling on that other scene in the loft that he has the different outfit, then you start 7x05 with those other stills of the gym, that Buck is in his civilian clothes, they "clear the air", Eddie notices Buck is being weird and shows up at the end of the episode to fix things. I think it would all depend on how bad was the basketball thing, considering that still where Chim seems to be mad at Buck and there's an abandoned shoe that looks like the one Eddie is wearing and the way Eddie has the bandage in his hand on the still from the gym, they could drag it out a little bit but less in a sense of Eddie is holding it against Buck and more in a Buck is hiding from Eddie sense. I would like to see it be dragged out a little bit tbh, you have Buck spiraling on 7x04 and you have Eddie "spiraling" on 7x05? Especially since Marisol seems to be on 7x05 and there could be problems going on there too, we could get some interesting movements on the story if they dragged it out a little bit more. Even more with the way Oliver and Ryan keep saying that the friendship will persevere, I feel like making the conflict last 10 minutes in episode could be underwhelming? I mean, we know Buck and Eddie are best friends, but they also suck at talking about shit that matters, and Eddie might not understand what's going on for a while, or Buck might start avoiding Eddie because he's scared Eddie is gonna tell him to go away and he doesn't want to get left. There's a lot to explore in a possible conflict triggered by obvious jealousy and Buck's abandonment issues, and I think it would be fun if they did explore it, because it could be a way to get Buck and Eddie on a path where they start talking, and they really need to start talking lol.

[all-pacas]

Can we get an update on the time travel fic? How do you see possible chase-cameron interactions post break up?

Mutual avoidance, mostly, plus Chase doing his S6 development two years too early. And then he gets shot!

I'm growing increasingly unhappy with how I wrote the story so far and I don't know if I have the energy to rewrite or if I should just try to ignore it and press on. So in that light, here's a very rough version of my outline for anyone interested! Spoilers I guess!!

Next chapter: Cameron finally connects with Amber, but Amber basically blows her off because she can absolutely tell Cameron has Ulterior Motives, Cameron can't say I time traveled , it all goes really poorly… and the chapter ends with the news of the bus accident.

Cameron is able to identify Amber as missing/injured in the other hospital right away. Ultimately this makes no difference and Amber still dies. She is incredibly shaken by this; she really thought she could do this, fix everything just by force of will.

Ends up telling Kutner the truth about the time travel. He's like. Super into it. She doesn't tell him he's dead in her future, she tells him all about the Amber situation though and about Dibala (as a reason why she dumped Chase). (Kutner is like "wait, you're blaming him for something he won't do for two years?" and she's like… :| yes)

Meanwhile, Chase is retreating to his Safe Space, Diagnostics. He's the main victim of the butterfly effect, and Cameron isn't noticing. In the background there are little things. He's in diagnostics more. She sees him and 13 grabbing lunch. Cameron writes all this off.

She's trying to help House and Wilson repair their friendship because she feels like shit about the Amber thing, and befriending Kutner at the same time, because she cannot fail again. The latter goes great. The former goes terribly because House absolutely knows something is going on with Cameron but obviously is not going to guess time travel. Her meddling basically screws things up more.

When The Itch happens she is able to instantly diagnose the guy, since she was super involved in that case.

Last Resort happens. Chase has been knocked off his timeline; he gets taken hostage along with House and 13, and gets shot by the gunman. He's okay, but this triggers just a total despair event from Cameron; she wasn't paying attention to changes she caused, she doesn't know what she's doing, she keeps failing, this whole thing sucks. She likes Kutner but feels like she can't open up to him all the way because she hasn't told him you're due to die, she feels like she almost got Chase killed, just, total collapse.

Apologizes to Chase (who is like… wtf, we haven't spoken in months and this was not your fault). She ends up telling him the whole truth too and he's kind of into it and she's like listen I just need a friend right now?? Everything sucks??? How do I fix things???

Chase is like "you…………don't??? Stop obsessing over every goddamn detail and acting like you know best. I could have told you this months ago if you didn't dump me btw."

Cameron tells Kutner the truth. He's like oh, hmm, yeah, that checks out. IDK I don't feel like offing myself right now. I can keep you posted I guess?

That's basically the end of the story it's a metaphor for you can't control everything.

Flash forward to the day of House's funeral in the original timeline. Things are different. Cuddy is still around, she and House didn't date; she's grooming Foreman to take over for her (Cameron's "idea"). Kutner is alive! He and Park are besties. Going out???? Wilson still has cancer but it was caught earlier and chemo isn't going great but he probably has a couple years, not a couple months. They're all at, not House's funeral, but some other hospital event. Maybe Cameron and Chase are dating casually, but if so it's a New Relationship. Cameron finally tells House the truth and he tells her her fixing everything idea was stupid. She tells him about his funeral and he's like I bet I faked my death. The end.

[hanmi-xo]

Chapter 3: “Curiosity of Ambiguity”

| Between Us | Chapter List |

Previous | Next ------------------

| L I H U A |

It’s been a few days since the I went to the museum with the others, but that painting was hard for me to forget. I didn’t take any photos of my old artworks before selling them off, and I wish I did.

I laid in my bed and stared at my ceiling. My dog slept peacefully next to me. His soft snores were ambience.

My thoughts were interrupted by a notification. It was someone who I didn’t think would reach out to me.

I didn’t bother messaging him back.

I saw him at the reunion, but I didn’t speak to him. He made multiple attempts trying to speak about the matter, and when he did, his best friend Jeonghan was right behind him.

Jeonghan was Astrid’s ex who pretended to be something he wasn’t. Behind that pretty face and sweet words, he was a massive manipulator and was two faced. He was the devil that caused chaos wherever he went. He always seemed to find joy in putting others down.

He was the cause of Joshua breaking up with me.

And he antagonized Seungcheol about Astrid at the reunion.

I guess seeing his ex-best friend with his ex-girlfriend triggered him. Maybe it was jealousy? Or possessiveness? Maybe both?

I’m not sure.

I just remember Astrid crying and Seungcheol being held back by her. He was fuming, ready to fight. And before things could escalate, Astrid and I told them that it would be best to just go.

It was clear Jeonghan wouldn’t stop, and Joshua was there to witness it all, and he hardly did anything about it.

Joshua always let his friend cause problems. It was like he was blinded by their friendship to know what was right and wrong.

The reunion was just horrible.

I even went to the balcony to avoid it all. I had to take a breather. Seeing those two was like seeing a ghost.

Now he’s here again.

Reaching out to me to fix what happened years before. But I didn’t want to deal with him right now.

I didn’t need him ruining my mood. Today’s an important occasion.

I won’t let him ruin it.

---

| M I N G H A O |

I rubbed my eyes and glared at Dokyeom’s message. What the hell is he on?

It’s my day off and now I have to pick up Lihua from the cemetery?

What kind of request is this?

I rolled over to my back and I began to look for the chat Dokyeom put me in with his sister. That was the only way I’d be able to contact her.

I was still drowsy and it took awhile for me to find her name.

The last time I personally messaged a woman that wasn’t my mother was like 3 years ago. Was I supposed to be polite to Lihua? Greeting her or whatever?

Nah.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister.

Knowing Dokyeom, he’ll be upset if I leave her. I don’t need him nagging me later if he finds out she went home by herself.

I sighed.

She texts just like Dokyeom… why do they always use that dumb face?

I dragged myself off my bed. I have to go get my keys and pick up that girl.

Cemetery…

Now that I think about it, why would she be at the cemetery?

~

I pulled down my sunglasses and looked out of my passenger window. There she stood patiently in front of the cemetery entrance with a dog by her side.

The sun was shining brightly during this nice weather, and it was easy to spot her in the sunlight.

Lihua looked at me with confusion once I pulled up towards her. She had a picnic basket in her hands and she seemed to be dressed decently.

She wore a white lettuce trim dress along with her usual white sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail with some of her bangs falling out to frame her face. A camera was hung around her neck from its sling. She had a small leather backpack on, and next to her was a black Shiba Inu that she held with a red leash. It wagged its tail at me with excitement.

She looked like she went on private trip. But why at the cemetery? She seemed too well dressed for the occasion.

She looked at me with a perplexed look until I pointed at the door to come inside. There’s no way I’m going to open the front door for her. She has hands. She can do it herself.

I watched her pick up the dog with one of her hands while she struggled opening the door. Her hands were full, and her dog was getting excited. He wouldn’t sit still in her arms.

I sighed. I don’t have all day.

I got out of my car and came to her side. Lihua stared at me while I opened the door for her. Her dog moved around in her arms and looked at me too. It barked and I ignored it.

I motioned her to enter my vehicle.

“Get in,” I tell her, slightly annoyed.

She bowed her head a bit at me and situated herself within my car.

“Thank you,” she whispered to me.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I shut the door.

I got back in my driver seat and left the premises. She was quiet while her dog moved around in her lap. It was trying to stick its head out of the window.

“Senko,” she whispers to her dog. “No. This isn’t Dokyeom’s car.”

She tried to calm her pet who seemed very energetic. It was hard to ignore the dog’s panting with the follow of soft barks. I can hear Lihua hushing the dog and in return it would whimper and bark louder.

I reached a stop light and stared at the two. The dog wasn’t going to calm down.

I began to pull the window down further down so the dog would shut up.

I watched Lihua look at me with wide eyes before looking back at her dog who quickly stuck out its head.

It looked at me with its tongue sticking out as if it was thanking me.

Lihua looked at me as well before saying, “Thank you.”

She was overly polite and it felt weird. I appreciate her manners and all that, but I’m not used to it. I felt myself stiffen.

“What’s the dog’s name.” I decide to ask since it kept looking at me like I was some fascinating thing.

She tilted her head at me as if she was surprised by my question. She began to pet her dog.

“Senko,” she says. “His name is Senko.”

I saw a subtle smile plaster on her apathetic face. She had a soft spot for her dog. It was easy to see.

Senko looked at her with his tongue out before looking back outside the window. His paws would go up and down with excitement. He was super energetic.

He reminded me of a certain someone…

“I’m sorry,” Lihua suddenly says towards me. She continued to pet her dog while she spoke.

I raised a brow at her. Why was she apologizing?

“I usually ride the bus or get driven around by others. I didn’t think my brother would bother you,” she explained.

The light turned green and I pressed the gas. My eyes remained on the road but some of my attention was on her. I didn’t like how she sounded like she was telling me some sob story.

“It’s whatever,” I tell her. “Besides, your brother didn’t know who to bother anyways. I’m assuming he was going to pick you up or something but he had an urgent meeting with his agent.”

I heard her hum beside me.

“Yeah,” she said. Her voice was almost low as a whisper. “He wanted to take me out and eat since he’ll be leaving town next month.”

I heard her sigh beside me.

“He’s always been kind to me,” her voice was light with affection but a hint of guilt.

I’m not sure what was going on with her, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask. But I was curious about something…

“Why didn’t Dokyeom go to the cemetery with you?” I say aloud. “That doesn’t seem like him to just leave a girl, much less family, alone.”

There was a moment of silence between us, and I took the chance to glance at her before looking back at the road. She seemed to be thinking of something- almost the state of daydreaming.

“Yeah,” she says. “He doesn’t normally do that. But today was a special occasion.

Special occasion?

“And that is?” I dare ask.

“My mother’s birthday.”

I hit the breaks on my car upon reaching another red light. I felt my car jerk upon my sudden action.

Did I hear that right?

I turned to look at her. My brows were narrowed. She seemed taken back from my anger that was about to come out.

“Why didn’t Dokyeom go?” I ask her. “Does he not care about his mom!?”

My voice came out rather loud and rude, but it bothered me that Dokyeom wasn’t around to celebrate his mother’s birthday. When did she even die? It’s only been over a week since the high school reunion when he mentioned his mom.

Senko stared at me for yelling, and began to bark at me.

Lihua quickly hushed her protective pup and calmed him down before looking at me.

“That’s because that’s not his mom,” Lihua tells me. Her voice was careful yet light.

My eyes widened from her words.

What was that supposed to mean? Are they not siblings?

“Wait.” I said. I was trying to put this all together. “Are Dokyeom and you even siblings?”

There’s no way I just drove some random chick around with her overly excited dog. I refuse to believe that.

Is that why they don’t look alike? Dokyeom and her?

I should have known from the start. They act nothing alike nor do they carry any similar features.

Lihua seemed startled from my question about her and Dokyeom, but then her eyes twinkled and her lips curled up. It was like I said something she was waiting to hear.

“His mom adopted me in middle school,” she says while petting Senko. “My mom’s best friend is his mom, and when you put two and two together…”

Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t speak more about the topic. She didn’t sob or even shed a tear.

But she just smiled while she sat there with a pitiful look.

I hate seeing girls cry. It always makes me feel like I’m obligated to do something. And if I do something, I can be considered a creep and they take it as flirting, but if I don’t do anything then I’m an asshole.

I rather be considered an asshole than for a girl to think I’d like her.

I heard Lihua sigh.

She turned her head to look at me, and her calm nature remained. Not even teary eyes was shown. Although she seemed down, she gave me a soft smile. It looked endearing but not too affectionate. It was like she was telling me that she’s okay even if she wasn’t.

“But yeah,” she suddenly says. She was trying to lift the mood. “Dokyeom and I are adoptive siblings… He didn’t come with me because he believed the occasion should be between actually family members. He’s always been courteous over my mom. It’s nice to have a brother like him. Sometimes I wish he was my real brother…”

Her brown orbs wondered away from me. Her attention went to her dog that yawned before laying down in her lap. She petted him while he tried to sleep.

It was odd knowing that I held a conversation with this girl. She seemed calm and level headed yet endearing.

I didn’t like how nice she seemed. I’m not used to it.

“The light’s green,” she tells me.

I looked back at the road in front of me and saw the go signal. I quickly pressed the gas again. Hopefully she didn’t think I was staring at her.

I was just analyzing her. That’s all.

“Minghao,” I heard her call for me.

I didn’t like how she said my name. It sounded too kind.

“What,” I respond with my eyes on the road.

“You’re not so bad,” she says.

I scoffed.

I knew where this was going to go. She’s going to compliment me then try to hit on me and then play that innocent girl act. I’ve experience before, too many times.

“Listen-“

“Thank you for dealing with my brother and his antics.”

She cut me off before I could express my dislike towards her. The compliment took me off guard. She seemed more glad to know her brother had a friend like me, then complimenting me over all.

It was odd.

I mean, he is her brother. So it would make sense for her to care about Dokyeom…

“It’s whatever…” my voice trailed off. I didn’t know how to respond to her.

After that, she remained quiet for the rest of the ride. There was silence between us, but it wasn’t awkward nor stiffening.

It was surprisingly peaceful.

~

When I reached her house, I noticed how her eyes were stuck on her phone. There were notifications alerting her and she ended up muting her device.

I could even hear her sigh. She seemed bothered by something.

I didn’t want to ask her about her personal business since I’m not that interested in her life, but she was getting spammed like crazy and it was hard to ignore the alerts.

Was she alright?

Lihua looked up towards her house before meeting my eyes. The sunlight reflected off her leaving a glow that seemed a bit unreal.

“Thank you,” she tells me. Her voice was soft yet clear.

Her smile was gentle yet careful. It bothered me how she looked like that. Much more on how she seemed almost like an angel.

I quickly looked away from her.

I must be seeing things.

I heard her shuffle around with her basket and bag before I decided to turn back around to look at her. I watched as she began to get out of the car while she carried her sleeping pup and picnic basket. She struggled at first, and I was ready to get out and help her, but she stopped me.

“I got it,” she tells me. Her voice remained light as before.

I hesitantly stayed in my seat and watched as she got out of the vehicle swiftly before shutting the door. She looked at me through the passenger window and bowed politely.

Her hair bounced gently as she walked. The breeze made some of her strands fly up and down and she had to move some out of her face so she can find her keys.

I watched her wave at me before entering her home.

She was gone.

I stared at the seat next to me, where Lihua once was. Her faint scent lingered in the air. It smelled like sweet whisky with its sense of earthy and sweet essence.

I narrowed my brows and pulled down the window to let her trace leave my car. I don’t need her scent filling my lungs.

After I pulled the window down to air out her trace, I got a notification. It was from Lihua.

I didn’t respond. Or rather, I didn’t know what to say.

I left her messages on read.

And somehow I couldn’t help but be bothered by her text. I don’t know why, but I did.

I guess a part of me doesn’t believe she’s that terrible to be around, but I also didn’t want to think about having a request like this happen again.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister. I should have an ill views of her, but I also shouldn’t be seeing her like this…

She was gently and ambiguous. Calm yet careful.

She was… odd.

Maybe it’s because she isn’t overly talkative, nor obnoxious, but it also bothers me how she seems too nice of a girl to exist.

The memory of what happened earlier this week came to mind. Dokyeom said something about her losing her touch in art. I don’t fully remember what he said, but I do recall the way she looked at that one flower painting that came in a day before their visit.

She had a good eye with noticing the only nameless painting within the gallery.

Not to mention, the only one I actually really liked.

She’s strange, but more so reserved. I can’t help but be engrossed by her. Maybe it’s because she’s Dokyeom’s sister.

Her existence is still new to me, and knowing my friend had someone in his life without my notice was strange. Maybe I should pay attention more when Dokyeom talks about a girl…

I scoffed.

“What the hell am I doing?” I mutter to myself, waking to reality.

I started up my car and left the premises like I was supposed to do moments ago. I can still smell her faint scent in my car. I was ready to press the buttons to open the window, but I couldn’t find myself to push the buttons.

Her scent filled me like her ambiguity. She was a mystery that I found myself stuck upon.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister. That’s all she’ll ever be to me.

---

| L I H U A |

Senko slept next to me on my bed. I hugged him while I tried to ignored Joshua’s messages.

He acted as if we could be close again, but it’s been over 4 years. If anything, it made me feel uncomfortable.

I told the girls about his sudden contact, and they too had mixed feeling about him.

I put my phone on my shelving that was connected to my bed frame. I didn’t want to think about him anymore.

I’ll deal with him later when the girls come back.

I sat up and began to look through my bag for my journal. I often wrote in it as a way to remember the events that happen in my life. I usually brought it with me so I can tell my mom how my life was going.

But it wasn’t where I left it.

I quickly dumped everything out onto my bed. But it still hasn’t appeared.

I widened my eye as fear came across me. Did drop it at the cemetery? No, because I remember putting it in my bag. Then I got into Minghao’s car…

“Oh no,” I say aloud before grabbing my phone.

I ran down out of my room and down the stairs to see if he would still be in the driveway, but he wasn’t there.

I felt anxiety crawl up my spine, and my gut twisted in fear of its whereabouts. I had to contact Minghao.

Even if he may not like the idea of me bothering him, I still need my journal.

I bit my lip in fear of what he might say to me. He’s Dokyeom’s friend though. If he’s nice enough to pick me up and drop me off, then maybe he’s nice enough to check if my journal’s in his car?

I quickly opened my phone and messaged him.

I hope he’ll read the message and respond to me. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose it. I wrote all my thoughts and feelings in there.

I can’t let anyone read it.

---

| M I N G H A O |

I stared at her message with her journal in my hand. To think someone who seemed so careful can be so clumsy?

I kept rereading our messages while I took a sip of water. I made my way out of my kitchen before dropping my body onto my couch. I slouched into the seat while I continued to text her.

“I don’t want you to waste gas.”

Pft.

I know she’s being sincere, but can she be any nicer?

She is probably one of the few people to even consider my own time and money. It's hard for me to believe this girl is even real. Way too nice.

The next time I work? Is she serious?

I looked at my calendar that hung on the kitchen pillar before messaging her.

She's far more expressive through text than in person. I found that to be amusing.

I tossed my phone onto the coffee table before lifting up the journal she so cared about. It looked beat up with its torn edges and stitched cover.

I felt it fall out of my fingers upon tearing from its strings and it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Shit," I say aloud.

I felt my gut twist. I didn't intend to rip it. I was only moving it around with my hand. Lihua is going to be upset.

I grabbed everything off the ground and tried to fix the damage that I've done. There were some photos that fell out along with a few pages, and while I tried to organize everything, I noticed a paper that was different from the others.

It was stained, and its material seemed old.

What surprised me more was what was written. Those were Chinese character strokes.

Why did Lihua have that?

--

SM Post:

Joshua has posted…

• • •

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[phantomram-b00]

Hey so remember the Shunk post? Welp. Guess what, I’m feeling angsty, and why not. I’m going to expand it in a form of a fanfic (well one-shot ish. So here it is! Keep in mind. I’m open to criticism ^^). For those who haven’t read it and would want to read this instead, this is something inspired by Amphibia season final for season 2. So spoilers for both Amphibia and Good omens season 2 in that order. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. So hope you enjoy! And I put a song at the bottom to match the energy 🤭.

For Everything…

Tag: Angst, Whump?, Ineffable Husband, Hurt Aziraphale, Hurt Crowley, Muriel is their unofficial official adopted child, Post S2, Metatron, I present you angst for your souls, Open ending, Amphibia inspired, This author was feeling silly, violence.

Trigger warning: blood, mild violence, and strong language.

Rating: This is going to PG-13 territory.

Heaven. The one place all mortals raved about since the dawn of time, Even Belinda Carlisle can tell you that “Heaven is a place on earth”. Oh what a beloved place; in their rose-colored view. Right now, what was once beloved place is decorated by blood and hellfire blazing the place that can rival the severity of the bookshop fire. Yet, the fight still commences while Crowley and Aziraphale hide behind the pillars to get to the elevators without going into the crossfire. Meanwhile Muriel tries to sneak their way the best way possible without provoking any opponent. They stop hiding as seeing no one’s on sight yet the elevator was still closed. It most likely been miracle blocked so no one deserts.

“Crap.” Crowley spoke finally gritting his teeth. “Where is Muriel, I specifically told them to report using these walkie-talkies bull crap.”

Aziraphale open his mouth wanting to make a joke. But knowing where they stand, he bite his tongue.

“Crowley, I’m sure they’re alright.” Aziraphale spoke with a reassuring smile.

“You know. This could’ve been avoided if…” Crowley shook his head. “N-nevermind Ange-Aziraphale.”

He frowned.

“No. Say what you going to say.” Azirpahale said looking at him. “Please.”

Crowley looking away refusing to look at the hazel blue eye. He took a deep breath.

“You’re timing is fucking horrible. But fine, you want me to finish my damn sentence? Alright, this could’ve been avoided if you haven’t left Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.” Crowley hissed, even with the glasses on Aziraphale still feel the daggers shooting at him. “But no, because you decided to just say fuck all those six thousand years and choose this place.”

“Crowley I…”

“No! I’m not done!” Aziraphale quickly silence himself. “You made that choice so easily, like it never matter to you at all. You decided to just throw it all away. You…oh! You rather forgive me than… ahh! Aziraphale do you realize just how fucked up that is?”

“I…Crowley. A-all I wanted was to make this a better place. I-I didn’t want this to happen anymore than you do! I..I just wanted to fix things.”

“Oh Aziraphale, nothing last forever.” he coldly remarked. “And you can’t fix what was already damaged so many time.”

Aziraphale’s eyes became glossy, he’s choking back the tears.

“Crowley…”

“Look. I could say I’ve always admired your need to wanting to fix things. But Aziraphale, when will you learn that your selfless will get you hurt?” Crowley said wiping tears that is steaming down his face. “Azirpahale..I…just wished you’d open your eyes.”

Aziraphale wanted to speak but he wiped his tears as well. He look up at Crowley again.

“Crowley. I wish all of this never happened.. I wish I never hurt you in this way. I wish they’d left us alone. But most of all, I wish I never forgave you.” Azirpahale said emphasizing on forgave. “I just wanted to try.. but at the same time, I never wanted to leave you.”

“Azira-“

“Look, I know full well that I owe you between an apology dance and or an alcoholic breakfast or whatever it is as soon as we touch earth or stop this apocalyptic war going on. Crowley, I never would’ve came here if Metatron said you can come along too. Yet I still went, and you can never forgive me for that. I know it isn’t an easy street at all; and frankly you have all obligation to be mad at me for the stunt I’ve pulled. Oh Crowley, my worse offense it never considered you and-“ he failed holding back his tears. “I never meant to say I forgive you. I wanted to say I l-“

Without a thought, Crowley pulled Aziraphale in a hug abandoning his glasses as they both tearfully cried. He hugged back hesitantly.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt an-“

“Crowley!” Muriel said using that walkie-talkie which cause the pair to immediately separate. Crowley cleared his throat and pulled out his walkie-talkie while aziraphale waits patiently.

“Muriel I told you my code name is Anthony.” He spoke rolling his eyes.

“Sorry! I got excited. I just wanted to say that I finally find that pesky Miracle blocker. Sneaky bastards am I right?” Muriel spoke.

“Language-“ Azirpahale chimed in which against Crowley’s attempt couldn’t help but chuckled. He missed this.

“Oh ‘ello Azirpahale! But yeah I should be coming up!” Muriel said. “Just d-“

An angel came and tackled Crowley to the ground causing the walkie-talkie to drop and break. Aziraphale try to get the angel off of him but the angel punches him square in the face causing aziraphale to hold his bloodied nose.

“Traitors! You two will reap what you have sow for trying to stop the ineffable!” The angel sneered as they raise their sword at Crowley to try to pierce his heart but he was able to grip their arm to restraint them.

“Oh right, so sorry we actually care about the bloody world and aren’t as bloody war hungry like you lot!” Crowley mocked as Azirpahale wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck to get them off giving Crowley time to get back up. Crowley notice that the angel dropped their sword so actively pick it up and piece it through the angels chest.

“You…bastards-“ the angel weakly spoke as Aziraphale let them go. dropping to the ground as blood spill from their chest.

“Crap, they’re coming this way, Crowley, give me the sword I’ll try-“

“No. Aziraphale, I’m not having you defend yourself alone. Not this time.”

“We seriously need to work on our communication skills. Now I know what Muriel was talking about mentioning it, I was going to say give the sword to me so I can defend you. I’m not gonna stay another minute of this place.”

“Oh. Right. That can work too Azirpahale.” Crowley said promptly giving the sword to Azirpahale. “Wait a minute, why can’t I have the sword then?”

“Because I know you can handle it. You always do Crowley.” Azirpahale said with a smile.

“..Thanks Aziraphale.” He said trying hard to not show he was smiling but of course failed.

Soon they heard footsteps which prompt them to start running towards the elevator; when the angel came they tackled them and did their effort to prevent them but with each swing from the sword and Crowley’s powers it made their getaway more smoothly.

Ding!

They look and see the elevator and there comes Muriel waving. But look at the scene as they open their eyes and actively tries to press open to keep it open as Crowley and Aziraphale ran towards it like it was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

An angel almost tried to grab Crowley but Aziraphale swung his sword as the angel did as well causing their sword to clash together.

“Crowley go! I’ll be right there!”

Crowley hesitated but went towards the elevator. He takes the turn to press the open button as Muriel stand back.

“Wait but we can’t abandon him!?” Muriel yelled shaking.

“We’re not kiddo! Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled towards Muriel and then to Aziraphale as he still is in a battle.

Muriel look intensely seeing Aziraphale fight off the angel, admittedly, the angel did get a good scratch at Aziraphale on his arms and face but Aziraphale swiftly prevail over the angel with their reflex and jabs from the sword. Crowley’s cheek grew redder than his own hair seeing this battle, he’ve seen him fight before but he can’t help but feel admiration toward the fact Aziraphale can in his own word, “be a badass”. He shake his head as Aziraphale finally finished with the final bow to the angel.

“Aziraphale! Would you hurry up?!” Crowley yelled as Muriel hold his arm frighten. But is gripping onto the hope.

“I’m co-“

Shunk!

Muriel shrieks holding their mouth. Crowley eyes widen as he was struck with profound horror. Aziraphale cough up blood for a moment as he slowly look down to see a familiar sword piercing through his chest. He notice the flames anywhere. No…

Even as his vision became to blur he look at the corner of his eyes. His eyes was stunned when seeing Metatron holding the handling of what was once Aziraphale’s sword.

“Now look you’ve made me do.” Metatron said showing no ounce of regret.

Aziraphale look back, he can feel he was going numb, his eyes was blurry so he can’t see the crying Muriel and Crowley’s yellow serpent eyes shedding tears.

“C-Crowley..” he choked up with the strength’s mustering up. “I’m sorry…for everything.”

Aziraphale’s arm shakes as he raise it up, Crowley recognizing what he was doing.

“Angel n-no don’t you dare! Don’t pull this shit now!” Crowley cried out. What kill him more was aziraphale smiling, for what? To reassure thing was still okay? Why the blood hell must he smile?

Aziraphale mouthed something before-

Snap!

Just as he dropped to the floor, the elevator was forcibly closing despite Crowley trying desperate to open them back up yelling his name. Atlas the elevator closed and the button for the ground floor glowed causing the elevator to go down.

“No. No. No.” was all Muriel can voiced trying to press the H button repeatedly but to no avail. “Crowley I’m..”

Muriel look as they were ready to apologize, but they were at a lost of word looking at Crowley. they’ve never saw Crowley smoking this badly before.

[adhd-fandom-and-gay]

Venting a lil bit. Sorry for the sudden doom and gloom yall <3 not many spoilers save for just general dissociation, mental problems, attachment issues, touch aversion, trauma association but still stay safe and only consume content you think is okay for you to consume!! I value your safety and wellbeing okidoki? :3

Im going through some weird part of my life where my trauma is kinda making me become stupidly clingy again but partially avoid people who were involved in like my old bad experiences because it makes me dwell too much, so my Discord notifications are taunting me lmao,,, I deign to reply. I dont know why but my heart sinks in my chest at the thought :/

So yeah Discord is out of the question for me to use for the next few hours which is godawfully unfortunate because majority of my friends are on there. shame how all of the people im most attached to are usually like deep involved in my lore! Causes a lot of. Hngh. Weird mental aversion to and normal but overly enhanced clinginess to them. Sniffles. I wanna tell em im more willing to talk on Tumblr bc i miss them so so badly but like i dunno if itll bother them :/ theyre usuallt super sweet about accommodating me when i ask for it so i dunno why im anxious. Maybe just nerves getting to me again. :<

I miss themmmm. Hhh. Its hard cuz the app itself makes me all tense and paranoid just thinking on it too much even though its where most of my best friends and parental figures are and thus like the majority of my social life. Its actually part of the reason im doing that Jekyll and Hyde thing where im replacing the names and icons with J&H stuff. Im hoping that maybe uhm itll like...fix my fear of Discord kinda? Like if i replace Discord with a new icon and a new title for something better I'll just be able to click on it without immediately associating it with trauma and i wont have to choose between regulsr contact with the people i love the most or not triggering my own flashbacks and keeping my well being in check while I can. It sucks so bad i feel like im being picky, naggy, bossy, selfish, self-absorbed, bothersome, annoying...all of the above and worse. I just. I dunno. Ughhh. I hate it so much. If this doesnt work i might cave in and try to suggest maybe asking for my discord oomfs to try and talk on Tumblr if they can. I know one of them (one who im admittedly especially clingy towards,,, they got me out of one of the trauma-related super stupid super duper bad situations I got my dumbass self into again and they were so patient and caring and lenient with me and i genuinely appreciate them more than words can say. more than i know how to say. im not used to people helping me out of tough times and sticking with me through them so ill admit that i get teary eyed thinking about em. Not romantically just bestest friend and person in the whole wide world way even if im not good at showing it.) has a tumblr but i havent interacted with it before out of anxiety,,, and i dunno if the rest have Tumblr or are willing to get an account just to talk to me all the time. Im WAY more active on here than on Discord because nothign fucked up has happened to me through tumblr yet and it better stay that way <3 i love you my little hellsite and i love you all my mooties and oomfs that i get to rant to and i adore everything about this in general. (#general mentioned??? /j)

Anyway i guess thats it. Uhm. That was ceryainly a Talk but oh well! Love you guys so so so much, im here for you all <=)

[normalestgirlblog]

My mother part 1 of probably a few

I genuinely have no one to talk about this with and it doesn't make sense if I talk about it in person because I will never be able to articulate this in a way that makes any sense.

There is something so isolating about family shit, because no one can really understand the dynamics and how fucking messy it is because they are not in your family.

Not that anyone I know cares enough to even fucking ask me how I'm doing or try to talk about it with me. Maybe that's my fault because sometimes I just shut down or try to avoid the topic, but it just feels like no one even wants to touch it, because they cant even understand it.

My best friends really get it, but I don't want to bog them down with my misery especially when they are so far away. The people around me I just don't feel like any comfort, I feel like I'm being attacked constantly by things that are potentially in my control but are so far away from what I actually care or think about. Its just so exhausting having to be everyone's person and never being good enough, and simultaneously nobody putting in the same effort for me.

Maybe I am just on my period. Maybe I am just experiencing high levels of anxiety which is triggering some sort of depression bullshit that I am not loving. Maybe I just don't have a vape. Or maybe everything is constantly working against me. I can barely do my work, I overthink what I eat. I feel sick and full and starving and fine all at once. I am having sex but even that isn't distracting me from all this bullshit. Especially now that he's pulling away like very significantly.

I dont know what to do about it. I wish he would just fucking end it instead of doing this bullshit like not responding fast enough not making plans anymore like I just don't get it. I really fucking liked this guy, and I thought he liked me. I am just so confused and I don't understand what I did wrong. Not that I really want to know, I would just rather be alone and not know. Maybe I should just be alone, focus on my bag, focus on myself. Maybe I should just be like al, and be a constant bitch to everyone and only hang out with my boyfriend. It would be nice to have a boyfriend to hang out with but fuck it men and women fuck all of you you are all wasting my time with nonsense. Fucking is fun, but its overrated.

I am gonna drink a lot tonight by myself which is so my high school depression era of me but it feels right.

I wish my mom would stick around longer. Maybe I am being selfish, but we were just starting to repair our relationship. Through writing this whole thing this is the only part that is starting to make me cry. I love her so much, and its been so hard for the past two years and I just want her to be around. Shes leaving in a week. I don't know when I will see her again. I want her to be happy but I also want her near. Shes one of my best friends, and I have just started truly letting her into my life. And now my dad is moving to DC at the end of May and I am graduating and everything is changing and I just want to vomit and stay the same. I don't know where I am going to live. I don't know who I am going to be. I don't want to keep second guessing myself. I think I should just move west and start over truly and ghost everyone my family, friends, and just be alone. I think it might fix me. I think something is broken and I am not exactly sure what it is. I think I care about things too much, especially about things that are not important.

I hate him, and I hate her and I hate everyone and I love everyone and everything. But most of all I think I just hate myself.

He finally texted after not responding all day. I know I shouldn't be mad or upset because I am sure he has things going on but this kind of couldn't have come at a worse time for me. And I know we don't know each other that well but since we have been talking I have come to depend on him in a way that I know is too soon and too much but that is who i am. I have never been casual about anything in my life. Everyone who I chose to let in I need them to be there, I want them to be there. I don't think I can respond. I literally have nothing to say, what can I say. My life is horrible and shitty and I was holding so tightly onto you because everyone else in my life has a habit of leaving me. And even though we haven't known each other for that long I truly just needed someone there. Maybe I just have too much going on.

I am instead making plans to see my mother tomorrow. I know I am sad because I am mad at her but more because I am going to miss her so much and I should try to spend as much time with her as I can before she leaves again.

[reliapet]

PSA: Rat aggression is genetic!

Millie: My rat, Rosco, bit Emmet and now Emmet is bleeding all over the cage! I took Rosco out. How do I train him not to bite other rats? Jay: Unfortunately, you can not train biting out of rats. Either they bite, or they don't bite. The causes are genetic. If your rats are males, it might be hormonal aggression, which is fixable. Millie: Yeah, they're males! But people on YouTube say I can train them out of it if I learn their triggers! Why are you saying that won't work if they say it will? Jay: Rat aggression is kinda controversial because no one likes what the best action usually is for them. Unless the underlying problem is fixed, they will always have the chance to bite. And while we may learn certain triggers which can cause them to bite and avoid it, their cage mates will never figure that out. Also, the aggression can escalate at any time. Just because you know what might happen now, doesn't mean you can predict it for sure later. Millie: So what can I do? How can I fix it? Jay: Because your rats are males, you can try neutering Rosco. Hopefully, he just has hormonal aggression and after his hormones die down he'll stop acting that way. You did good by separating him from the other rats to keep them safe for now. Once he's better, you can re-do introductions. Make sure to watch for excessive pinning, chasing, side stepping, and rat balls during intros. These may indicate he's not ready to be reintroduced, or that it's general aggression instead. Millie: But a rat neuter is so expensive around here because they're exotics! I doubt it will ever happen again, he'll be just fine, I'm sure! Besides, if it does happen again, I can keep him alone, right? Jay: Keeping rats alone causes them to be depressed. In one scientific study, a rat kept alone didn't try as hard not to drown in a small swimming pool as a rat kept with friends. They need each other to be happy. You can't keep him alone. Also, you might not get a second chance to do something about this before something bad happens. It only takes one bite in the wrong place to kill a rat. It happened to one of my friends when they were doing intros with their rats. It was brutal. Please get your rat neutered. Millie: OMG that's terrible! I guess I can pull from the vet fund for this. Where can I learn more? Jay: There's an article on ReliaPet that talks about it! Here's the link. It has a lot of scientific studies backing up its claims about aggression, and it's really informative. https://www.reliapet.net/revealing-the-truth-of-rat-aggression/ Millie: Thanks so much! I'm on the way to the emergency vet for Emmet right now, and I'll set a neuter appt for Rosco as soon as I can. I really appreciate all this information! I had no idea about any of this.

[phantominzie]

I found it!! It takes a while to get to that point though so I'll put the chapter verbatim below for you to read without reading seven chapters. This isn't mine lol so I highly recommend you go give the full story a read when you get the chance <3

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849006/chapters/29341518

Virgil woke up feeling unrested and immediately felt panic. What was wrong? He couldn’t figure out what was wrong! What -

Breathe. He needed to breathe. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

After a few more minutes, Virgil had calmed himself down and started sifting through the past few days, trying to find a trigger for the sudden panic.

It took him over twenty minutes of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling to find the issue.

Reality had switched off. During the weekend, the reality switch flipped. Nothing felt real and he had been happy (well, relatively). There were no consequences. It almost felt like his past didn’t exist.

Monday, and reality had come back on. His skin itched from how much they’d touched him, yet he craved their touch once more. He wanted to see them every second of the day, yet he wanted to run away. Far away.

This wasn’t right. Nothing was right. Everything felt wrong and he didn’t know why or how to fix it.

The issue wasn’t that he didn’t care for his soulmates. That was far from true. No, Virgil cared too much for his soulmates. He was making himself vulnerable. They probably didn’t care for him as much as he did them, if they cared at all. They were going to end up hurting him. Then he’d end up lashing out and hurting them back. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Maybe he should do what he had been planning to do since the beginning. Distance himself. Remove himself from the equation. It was better off this way. He couldn’t hurt anyone and they couldn’t hurt him.

So Virgil worked his best to distance himself, but it was hard .

Roman would meet him outside the honors dorm and insist on walking him to class. Patton would beg and beg for them to meet for meals until Virgil relented and ate with them. Logan would somehow find him in the library (seriously, it was like the guy lived in there) and propose some group study sessions.

He couldn’t escape.

After a month of this, Virgil finally managed to avoid them all for a week. He spent it mostly in his room, sneaking out at strange hours because they’d all figured out his schedule.

They texted. They called. They wrote on their skin.

Virgil ignored it all, tried to play it off like classes had picked up. He was just busy. That’s all it was. He was just busy.

He thought it was working.

Until Patton finally caught him outside the honors dorm on the way back from class.

“Hey, Virgil!” He chirped. “Working hard or hardly working?” He giggled.

“Uh, hey, Patton….”

“So! My grandma is coming in for dinner tonight again and I wanted you and everyone else to join us!”

“Oh, um, I dunno, Patton. I, uh, I’ve got a lot of homework and--” Virgil stammered out, but cut himself off.

Patton’s puppy eyes. Anything but that.

“I-I guess I can take a break for tonight.”

“Great! Meet us in the west parking garage at five!”

Patton gave him a quick hug that left Virgil feeling very conflicted, then skipped off.

Virgil sighed and walked into the dorm, planning to change into something more appropriate to meet a grandmother in. Ripped, black skinny jeans, a band t-shirt, and a torn up hoodie? Not gonna cut it this time.

Virgil jogged toward the parking garage. He was late. Again . He would do them a favor by disappearing.

Patton, Logan, and Roman were all standing around an old, beat up minivan that couldn’t have been from later than 2003.

“ This is your car?” Virgil asked hesitantly. He didn’t know if he trusted something that looked like that .

Patton smiled, unoffended. “She’s more reliable than she looks. Hop in!”

So they piled in, Roman in shotgun and Logan and Virgil behind them. Virgil didn’t speak for the entire ride. Patton and Roman chattered the whole way. Logan said very little, but Virgil could feel the man staring at him for the duration of the ride.

They arrived at a small diner, about a 25 minute drive from the campus. It was small, obviously family-owned. Patton led them inside cheerily, walking in as if he was right at home. He greeted some of the staff by name, leading them to a large horseshoe booth right by the window. It had a beautiful view of the nearby park though the window.

And older woman was already sitting at the booth, and stood as they approached.

“Patton, sweetheart!” She said, pulling Patton into an embrace.

“Gram!” He hugged her back tightly.

“And these,” she said, turning to the rest of them with a large smile, “must be those lovely soulmates of yours.”

“Hello, Ms. Sanders, I am-” Roman started respectfully, but was cut off by Patton’s grandmother.

“No, don’t tell me. I want to guess.” She carefully inspected each of them.

“You,” she said, pointing to Logan, “are the smart one. Lo, I believe.”

“Yes,” Logan replied, adjusting his glasses. “I am Logan.”

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

She examined Roman and Virgil. Roman puffed out his chest. Virgil shrank in on himself.

“You’re the actor, Ro.” She said, gesturing to Roman.

Roman smiled. “Yes, ma’am, Roman”

“Which makes you the mysterious one,” she said, putting a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “V.”

“Uh, y-yeah. That’s me.:

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes, he’s Virgil.”

Mrs. Sanders smiled and gestured for them to pile into the booth before her. “With my hips, it’s much too hard to scoot in there.” She explained, sitting on the end.

A waitress came around and took their orders. Virgil made certain to order the cheapest thing on the menu. Then, Mrs. Sanders laid her hands on the table and looked at them all.

“Let me lay down the law, here,” she said, making Virgil even more nervous. “No more of this ‘Mrs. Sanders’ or ‘ma’am’ nonsense. You either call me Gram or Delilah.”

Logan and Roman both voiced their agreement. Virgil gave a small nod.

Logan shot another look in his direction. Virgil shifted uncomfortably. What was with him tonight?

They chatted about meaningless things for a few minutes, Patton looking anxious all the while. He seemed to tense up as he finally asked what was on his mind.

“So, Gram, how was the drive up here?”

Delilah rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Patton, you really worry too much. My feet my be numb, but I can drive and walk just fine!”

“Gram, it’s not safe !”

“Um,” Roman said, lifting a finger, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but why are your feet numb?”

Delilah gave a smile. Patton stared at the table and shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s a side effect of the chemo.”

The table went still, all staring at her in shock.

She didn’t look sick.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking down and adjusting his glasses. “Did you say chemo ?”

Her eyes softened. “Yes. I was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer a little over two years ago. Nearly died for a while there!” Delilah laughed, as if was no big deal.

Patton was completely still. In all the time Virgil had known him (which, granted, wasn’t long), he had never been still. He was always moving or bouncing or tapping. He had too much energy. Now, it was as if he was a statue.

Virgil had no clue what to do or how to react. Luckily, their meals arrived and cut through the tense moment. They moved on and didn’t acknowledge it again.

The meal passed well enough, but Virgil could tell something was up with Logan. He kept glaring at Virgil out of the corner of his eye, rolling his eyes or making harmful quips whenever Virgil managed to speak. He seemed to snap a few times at Roman and Patton, but none of those were as fiery as the ones directed at Virgil.

By the end of dinner, everyone was tense and on edge. It was obvious that even Delilah had picked up on it and was uncomfortable, yet was too polite to butt into whatever was going on between all of them.

She insisted on paying the bill herself, despite everyone’s protests. It made Virgil even happier that he had ordered the cheapest meal.

She gave Patton a kiss on the cheek before waving them out, saying, “I think you boys have a few things you need to talk over.”

The car ride back to campus was tense. Quiet. Logan was glaring out the windshield. Patton’s knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. Roman was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Virgil was trembling in his own, dreading the upcoming confrontation.

What the hell was going on?

They pulled into the west parking garage at 8:43 pm. Virgil’s throat closed up. That was the beginning of the end.

“Why don’t we head to my room?” Patton asked, though it was more of a command. “It’s probably the closest from here, and my roommate is out.”

Patton turned off the car and left them with no choice but to follow him. He led them in silence to Juniper Hall, one of the regular dorms on the opposite side of campus from Virgil’s. He went into the elevator, forcing Virgil to follow, the enclosed space drawing the breath out of his lungs quicker than he could get it in. Luckily, Patton only lived on the third floor.

He held the door open for them all to enter his room before slamming it behind himself.

“Mind telling me what that was?” He asked, voice low, glancing between Virgil and Logan.

“I didn’t do anything!” Virgil exclaimed, his voice higher pitched and louder than normal due to panic. An ingrained response ever since he entered the system.

“Oh you didn’t, did you?” Logan said, turning on him.

Virgil flinched and took a step back. Logan followed, and Virgil did his best to stand his ground.

“No, actually, you’re right,” he said after a few moments. “I believe that’s an accurate description of your behavior.”

Virgil shot a look over to Patton and Roman, their faces blank. He looked back to Logan.

“W-what?”

“You see, Virgil ,” Logan said, beginning to pace the room, hands clasped at the small of his back, standing ramrod straight. “All of us have been trying to put effort into this relationship, even if it’s out of our comfort zone, yet you don’t seem to be making the same effort. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been trying to avoid us, seeing as this is the first time we’ve seen you in a week .”

Logan whipped around and quickly approached Virgil, causing him to trip over his own feet in an effort to back up. His back hit the wall, breath hitching. Logan advanced until he was inches from Virgil’s face.

“I - I -” Virgil tried to defend himself, but the words wouldn’t move past the lump in his throat. He was trembling violently.

Logan’s eyes were cold, hard, searching his own. The anger in them grew.

“Logan-” someone tried to speak up, but it sounded like it was miles away.

“I thought we were past this,” Logan growled. “I thought we were done with this dilemma. What is with you and running away?! And STOP SHAKING! ”

He slammed his fist into the wall, right next to Virgil’s head.

Virgil flinched to the side and gasped.

Patton and Roman were yelling now, too. Virgil couldn’t hear the words over the blood pounding in his ears.

The switch in his brain went from flight to fight. Blood boiled in his veins. He shoved Logan away, ignoring the shock on his face.

Logan was staring at his fist, face white as a sheet.

“Oh no. No, no, no no nonono-” He whispered.

“Fuck you,” Virgil hissed, before the anger boiled over. He started shouting. “I have anxiety, jackass! You don’t just ‘get over’ it! I probably have a shit ton of other issues, too! My life as been shit, and I don’t need dicks like you ,” he jabbed a finger at Logan, “making it worse!”

“Virgil, I’m-”

“No! You don’t get to talk! You’re done talking!

“Virgil, stop!” Roman grabbed Virgil’s arm.

He hadn’t even realized he’d started advancing on Logan, who still looked like he was going to be sick and staring at his hand. It was almost enough to shake him out of his blind anger.

Almost.

He wrenched his arm out of Roman’s grip. “And who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

“Virgil,” Patton’s voice was stern. “That is enough.”

“Fuck you!” Virgil yelled. “You’re siding with him?!” He flung out an arm to gesture at Logan.

“I’m not siding with anyone, I’m just--”

“Bullshit! You’re hiding behind other people’s opinions and a fake smile, just like usual! Why not be real for once in your life!”

Patton’s face was blank, his voice steely. “You want me to be real?”

Roman looked terrified, stuck in the middle of the three of them. “Guys, maybe we should just--”

“Shut up, Daddy’s Boy.” Virgil snarled.

Roman snapped his mouth shut. Clenched his jaw.

Patton moved slowly in front of Virgil. His face may have appeared calm, but his eyes were filled with rage. “I lost my moms when I was just a kid. My grandmother, my sole caretaker , has stage four cancer. It’s a miracle she’s even alive . Everything important is either taken from me or destroyed. I thought this would be the one good thing I could have. I guess I was wrong.”

It was like a slap in the face, like a bucket of cold water had been poured on his head. Virgil deflated.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.” He said. He turned and walked out the door.

This time, no one followed.

Ppl should write virgil as the one who is in the wrong more often

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

one shocking thing that people with ADHD do that makes us the most annoying bitches in disability awareness and acceptance circles

I encourage both ADHD and non-ADHD people to read this, I'm hoping awareness on both sides can lead to reducing some of the hostility I've seen towards people with ADHD in disability circles. And yes, my fellow ADHDers, part of fixing this problem is us doing the work to avoid using communication techniques that can be triggering to people who have experienced ableism.

I want to talk about something I call reciprocal storytelling. Basically, telling a story that is in some way connected to a story someone else just told. Non-ADHD people do it too, but I've noticed people with ADHD do it a lot more than other people. If you ever listen to two people with ADHD have a conversation, it's pretty much a nonstop string of loosely related stories.

So why is this problematic when communicating with other disabled people? Unfortunately, ableist people often weaponize reciprocal storytelling to belittle the experiences of disabled people. I think the easiest way to have people understand this is with an example.

We're going to create a character called Laurie. Laurie has chronic, debilitating knee pain. Laurie just met a woman, Sandra, who injured her knee while running a few years ago. Sandra's injury was painful and interfered with her life quite a bit, but it's healed now. Their conversation goes something like this. Laurie: I can't walk with you up those stairs. Do you want to take the elevator with me so we can keep talking? Sandra: Sure. You know, I had my knee injured once while running. Took me a few months to get back into the swing of things. Something that really helped me was exercising it. Laurie: I'm sorry that happened, knee injuries are the worst, especially if you enjoy being active. Unfortunately working out hasn't helped. The thing that's worked the best has been not pushing myself too hard. Sandra: I thought that too, but I worked through the pain and it eventually went away. You just have to not give up. Laurie: haha, yeah I guess. Well, this is my floor, got to go.

Sandra was ableist in this conversation. She asserted that she could treat Laurie's pain despite knowing nothing about it and having no medical experience. When Laurie said that she had either already tried Sandra's method or thought it would be dangerous, Sandra less-than-subtly hinted that Laurie wasn't trying hard enough to get better. In this conversation, reciprocal storytelling became a tool to make Laurie feel guilty for being disabled. Now, let's look at a scenario of a person with ADHD talking to another disabled person:

Paul has ADHD. He's in a meeting for the disability club at his college. Right now, Ron, a manual wheelchair user, is talking about an experience he had on campus. Ron: I went to Professor Smith's class today and when I got there, there was a chair halfway blocking the door. I asked him to move it so I could get into the classroom and he told me to move it myself. Obviously, that's going to be really difficult for me to do since I have to use my hands to propel. I asked again for it to be moved and he called me lazy. Paul: Oh, Professor Smith was ableist to me last semester! I have an accommodation to sit in the front of the class. When I got there one day there were no front-row seats available. When I went to him he told me seats were first come first serve and that I should have the self control to pay attention to him and not the people in front of me.

To a person with ADHD, this conversation may seem harmless and non-ableist. It's just one person sharing a story related to another person's story. In fact, Paul might have even been trying to add credibility to Ron's story and encourage him to report it. However, this is not how Ron, a person who has likely experienced ableism, would probably interpret this conversation. To him, this might come across as Paul trying to make this experience about him and take attention away from what he had experienced. Or, it might come across as saying that having trouble paying attention in class because of a professor's actions is the same as being physically barred from entering a class because of a professor's actions. Either way, Ron is likely to leave the conversation feeling that Paul values talking about his own disability over listening to the experiences of others. Eventually, if this happens too often, Ron and other members of the group may begin to resent Paul for his perceived self-centeredness.

So how do we fix this? One, on the part of people with ADHD, practice active listening, try to make sure others are done speaking before you begin, and avoid jumping into talking about yourself without giving any feedback to what you just heard. For people without ADHD, communicating how you feel and why is key. The ADHD people in your life might not know they're hurting you if you don't tell them. Even if the ADHD person initially responds with hurt or offense, this doesn't mean the conversation failed. A lot of people with ADHD also have rejection-sensitive dysphoria and may need time to calm down and think about what you said before they can apply it.

[everythingjacksepticeye]

Markiplier Theory Fun

This has spoilers for ISWM, so if you'd prefer not to read spoilers for it, then it might be a good idea to scroll away. It'll also have mentionings of WKM and AHWM.

Anyway, this is just my personal headcanon and theory, and just me honestly rambling, but ever since the events of WKM, I feel like the Y/N is essentially an entity/soul. That's why they come off as "otherworldly", beautiful/or handsome and the reason why people can't comprehend them. They're literally a being without a body (cause they got thrown out of theirs), so the way they appear to others is different. I also feel like them being some sort of entity/soul ties into why we see cracked screens/glass around them too. Such as recently the Captain's space helmet in ISWM being cracked. It's hard for things to contain pure entities/souls. Bodies are the best at containing those, so the cracks could be symbolizing that fact.

I also feel like throughout this whole time Y/N has been desperately searching for their body. It's something they're naturally attracted to and drawn to. That's why whenever there's a mention of Dark, Y/N is compelled to check it out. They can't help it. They have to explore further. Their desire to have their body back and to confront the ones who stole it is too strong.

So they play Mark's games cause otherwise they would be sitting behind a mirror probably going crazy. Doing something is better than nothing. But since they're basically just a soul out of body, they don't care about what they go through. The drones shot at them? They just dust themselves off. They jump to "fix it on the outside" or into a portal without hesitation. It just feels like they know nothing can really touch them at this point, so they just roll with it. I kind of got that vibe from AHWM too.

And when Y/N does clash with Dark, I feel like they're actually one of the main causes behind why he becomes so glitched out and over the place, because the body is reacting to the third soul - the soul it belongs to. So he can't stick around Y/N for too long, otherwise the body will try to merge back. Hence why that screen of multiple panels pops up during the end of encounters and gives the sensation of Y/N being pushed back and away.

I do think that Dark is already unstable cause of hosting two souls already (Damien & Celine), but the presence of Y/N's soul puts everything out of whack - because a body will always want its true soul. So at the same time, Dark can't completely avoid and stay away from Y/N either because of that. That's why there's moments where it seems like Dark is directly trying to entice Y/N to come seek him out - cause he too can't help it. The body wants the soul. It would make sense, because why else would he lure something in that causes him to be unstable? He seems exasperated with Y/N, but at the same time drawn to them. Almost like there's conflicted feelings there - like he knows they're the source of the instability but at the same time he couldn't help himself. Just like Y/N. He seems aware that they're caught in a loop as well.

Plus Y/N (assuming that they are the DA) was a friend of Damien, so I feel like the emotions there are still present on top of it all.

With that all in mind, I feel like Y/N is caught in never ending loop. They can't reclaim their body, so "Mark" has taken advantage of that by making them the main character of different scenarios.

So when it comes down to it all, is it truly Y/N's fault? What's Mark's end game for this? To damper their resolve to reclaim their body? I guess that would make sense because I imagine if they do that, they'd be able to escape the loop. It would also make sense as to why it seems like things are triggered by Mark and implied that he was behind stuff - cause he knows Y/N is always searching for a way out.

That's just my overall take. I know that there's probably holes somewhere in there. I don't dive very deeply into Markiplier lore, but in my own personal universe, that's kind of what I see going on. 👀