#I think I’m gonna start just posting fragments of stuff from my writings

[mythohumanism]

Scrolling the content stream. It’s pretty repetitive and basic and even boring right? Sure bits of intrigue and dopamine. But sometimes real world interactions are more compelling precisely because of the easy mundanity of other people, of the impenetrable weirdness of a person vs the entirely-too-accessible stream of content made to be easily digested mush. Does this make sense? I think it does. Sometimes the real comfort app is human beinms

[endofradio]

END OF THE WORLD

WARNINGS: a bit of gore, sylvie gets her ass beat by frank, also this deserves a warning just for being an emotional rollercoaster of a oneshot, also some blood vomiting’s gonna be happening here

NOTES: i’ve been on a bit of a writing spree. anyways, i’ve written multiple drafts of the future vampire frank scene for my fragments of fear fic, but i think this one might just be the main one. look, i am VERY indecisive. i am not responsible for any emotional damage this brings.

ALSO!!! sylvie will be referred to by “ava” in this oneshot. that was the alias given to her by lambert (i’ll have to mention that in her character bio that i posted on here i think i forgot to do that LMAO).

to make the reading experience a little more immersive or whatever, i occasionally included some gifs that visually represent the vibes of this oneshot i guess. i might start doing that when i post oneshots n stuff on here 😁

SUMMARY: the only surviving rat pack members, frank, sylvie, and joey stumble upon lambert in their mission to take down abigail. unfortunately, frank gives in to his lust for power and allows for lambert, who is now a vampire, to turn him. everything goes downhill from there.

WORD COUNT: 4,614 (jesus christ idk what’s possessing me)

TAGS: @shawsfinalgirl @blackwolfstabs @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @atcarpenter

likes, reblogs, and comments all appreciated!

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“What the fuck…?” Frank narrowed his eyes as he carefully took a step forward. He, Sylvie, and Joey had reached the storage room, only to find a man standing there with his back turned. Frank and Joey both recognized the man instantly — it had to be Lambert.

“Okay, what the fuck is happening, motherfucker?” Frank hissed, tightly gripping the wooden stake that was in his hand. The man turned around, and that was when Frank and Joey’s suspicions were confirmed. It was, in fact, Lambert. Even worse, Lambert was clearly now a vampire, too. His eyes were a piercing blue, and instead of teeth… he had fangs.

“Woah, what the fuck!” Frank exclaimed, quickly backing away. “What the fuck— he’s one of them!”

Joey pointed her gun at Lambert. “You set us up, didn’t you?” She asked, her dark eyes narrowing. “Take one step towards us, and I will shoot you.”

Lambert was unfazed by Joey’s threat, the smirk he momentarily had now fading. “That gun’s not going to do anything, I’m afraid. You can try, though, if you’re really that stupid.”

“Gladly.” Joey hissed. She fired her gun at Lambert, a bullet flying towards his forehead. To her dismay, he didn’t react. He wiped the blood from the “wound” to reveal that it had already healed.

“See?” Lambert smirked. “I told you that nothing would happen.”

“What the… hell…?” Joey attempted to shoot at Lambert a second time, but once again… nothing happened. Realizing he was at an advantage, Lambert took a step towards Joey, reaching to grab her by the neck and pinning her against the nearest wall. She looked at Frank with an expression that read, “do something!”

Noticing Joey’s worried expression, Sylvie looked up at Frank. “The stake,” she harshly whispered, “use it!”

However, Frank didn’t do anything. In fact, he ignored Sylvie, his gaze fixated on Lambert. Lambert took notice of the stake that was in his hand, his smirk growing. “I’ll make an offer.”

Frank raised an eyebrow, continuing to keep a firm grip on the stake. “The fuck do you mean?” He bitterly asked. “What kind of fuckin’ offer?”

“I know you well, Frank. You’d just love to kill that girl, wouldn’t you?”

Frank scoffed. “No fuckin’ shit!” He hissed.

“Trust me, I want her dead just as much as you do.”

Frank took a step closer towards Lambert. “The fuck are you tryin’ to say?”

“Don’t… listen to him…” Joey choked, trying to pull Lambert’s hand away from her neck. “Just… use the stake…” Frank only continued to keep his gaze locked on Lambert. As angry as he was at Lambert’s act of treason, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity at this “offer” he was willing to propose.

“We could kill her together, Frank.” Lambert continued, his smirk growing. “You and I both know you’ve always had a… particular thirst for power.”

Frank’s grip on the stake loosened ever so slightly. Lambert was correct — hell, his lust for power was exactly what turned him on to the world of criminals in the first place.

“You could join us, Frank. You could be powerful. You could have the entire world in your hands. You could be… immortal. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Goddamnit, Lambert had a point. His offer was tempting, and Frank was finding it difficult to resist it. Immortality, power… he would love to feel like a god. He used to feel weak. He was considered the family disappointment, always wanting a chance to prove himself to them.

However, he had promised Sylvie that nothing would happen to either of them. A pang of guilt came to the surface for a moment… but Frank quickly tried to push it down, replacing his guilt with coldness and apathy. This was his life, not hers. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

“Don’t do it.” Sylvie whispered. Frank could hear the hurt in her voice, and it brought back the guilt for just a moment. Just ignore her. Don’t let her get in your way.

Frank allowed the stake to drop to the floor, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Fuck it. Bite me.”

Sylvie froze. He promised, he fucking promised that nothing would happen. How could I be so fucking stupid?

She had placed her trust in Frank, only for it to be broken. She wanted to be angry, but she couldn’t bring herself to be. I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known.

Once Lambert released Joey from his grip, Sylvie ran towards her, helping her to her feet. “Are you okay?” She gently asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Joey slowly nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“What are we supposed to…?” Sylvie’s voice trailed off, and she looked up to see Lambert slowly approaching Frank. She swallowed nervously. “We… we have to get out of here.”

“We can’t.” Joey sighed. “All the doors are locked.”

“Fuck.” Sylvie muttered. “I forgot about that.”

Sylvie’s head snapped back up again when she heard painful screaming, and her eyes widened as she saw Lambert sinking his teeth into Frank’s flesh, pinning him against the wall. Panic was beginning to set in for Sylvie. She looked back down at Joey, who was still laying on the floor. “What the fuck are we supposed to do?”

Joey nodded towards the stake that was still on the floor. “We’re going to have to kill them.” She answered. “Grab the stake, Ava.”

Sylvie nervously glanced at the stake, then at Lambert and Frank. She slowly walked over to the stake, shakily picking it up before making her way towards Lambert, pointing the stake right at him. His back was turned to her, surely he wouldn’t notice… right?

Well, she was wrong.

Lambert released his fangs from Frank’s neck, watching with a satisfied grin as he slowly slid down against the wall. “Good, good…” He murmured. Frank’s skin was pale and clammy now, his eyes appearing almost vacant. He was right about to sink his fangs into his wrist to feed Frank his blood, when he suddenly realized that Sylvie was right behind him. Quickly, he turned around, grabbing her and throwing her against the wall with ease as though she was just a toy.

Sylvie tried to scramble to her feet, her ears buzzing as she felt her head throbbing with pain. “Fuck…” She muttered, reaching for the stake yet again. Lambert noticed her attempt, kicking the stake away from her before turning his attention back to Frank. All Sylvie could do right now was watch in horror as Lambert bit into his wrist, hovering it above Frank as the blood dripped down into his mouth like water dripping from a faucet.

Stop feeling upset, Sylvie. You didn’t lose him. He betrayed you and that’s his own fault.

Even when Sylvie tried to make herself feel mad at Frank… she couldn’t summon any anger. She used to hate him — where had all that animosity gone?

Jesus, she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. She wished this was all just a nightmare. “This… this isn’t real… right?” She asked, turning to look at Joey.

“Trust me, I wish it wasn’t.” She answered.

Sylvie glanced at Frank again, noticing how he was just sitting there against the wall with almost a blissful look on his face, blood dripping down his mouth. The sight was horrific.

Then, that almost peaceful expression turned into one of horror. He started to jolt and twitch, blood forcing its way out of his closed mouth, trickling down his neck and onto his tank top.

“What the fuck is happening to him?” Sylvie asked, slowly stumbling to her feet.

“I think it’s part of the transformation.” Joey answered, grimacing.

Lambert took a few steps back, and within moments, a violent torrent of blood started to spew from Frank’s mouth, spraying onto the floor. The whole time, his eyes were widened in shock as the dark crimson fluid continued to spray all over the floor. He staggered to his feet, and no matter how hard he tried to force the blood down, it just kept coming up. Sylvie forced herself not to look; the sight was too horrifying for her to handle.

The violent episode lasted for a few more seconds before Frank collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily. “Fuck…” He muttered. He started to weakly groan, before slowly stumbling to his feet. He noticed the stake on the floor, and a sly grin curled at his lips. He picked it up, and when Lambert wasn’t looking, he swiftly drove it right through his chest. In response, Lambert let out an alarmed wheeze.

Knowing what was going to happen next, Sylvie and Joey both curled up onto the floor, shielding themselves from the bloody explosion of viscera that followed. Once it was over, Sylvie quickly grabbed Joey’s arm. “We have to run, Joey.” She hissed. “Now.”

Before Joey could protest, Sylvie forcefully pulled her to her feet, attempting to make a run for it. They were stopped within seconds.

“Where do you two think you’re goin’?”

Frank was standing right in front of the pair, and he looked like a fucking demon, all covered in blood. Beneath his glasses, his eyes were a vibrant shade of blue. When he smiled, he revealed a sharp set of fangs. Sylvie just wanted to cry. Why was this happening?

Frank’s piercing gaze landed on Sylvie, and he feigned a look of disappointment. “Aw, are you tryin’ to run away from me, now?” He asked, his tone dripping with false offense. Adrenaline was rushing through Frank’s veins right now. He didn’t care about anything, at least in the current moment. In his current state, Sylvie was no longer the woman he had secretly been trying to fight his feelings for. He just saw her and Joey as prey.

Sylvie took a couple steps backward, her heart pounding. “You fucking… liar…” She sneered. As angry as she tried to sound, there was an underlying sense of vulnerability.

Frank persisted with his little façade of disappointment and offense. “Y’know, that hurts, you callin’ me a liar…”

“You… you promised…” Sylvie’s voice was beginning to break, her eyes welling up with tears. Once again, she had been betrayed. Somebody always seemed to end up hurting her in one way or another, and here it was happening… again.

“Promised what?” Frank scoffed. “I never promise shit to anybody.”

“You said that nothing would happen. You fucking told me that.”

Frank let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, did I? Well, you can forget about that.”

He took a step towards Sylvie, towering above her. She took another step back, her eyes slowly widening in fear. “Get the… fuck away from me…”

Frank could smell her fear, and for some reason… he loved it. “Look at you, all scared…” He murmured. Meanwhile, Joey was retrieving the stake, slowly advancing towards Frank. “It’s kinda cute, actually…”

“Get the fuck away from her!” Joey yelled. She was about to attack Frank with the stake, when he suddenly managed to take it from her. He grabbed her with one hand, using the other to drive the stake through Joey’s shoulder. She let out a scream of pain as she felt the stake going through her.

The sight caused Sylvie to finally feel a rush of anger. Right when she saw Frank release Joey, causing her to plummet to the ground, she was suddenly ready to kick his ass… or at least try.

“You fucking asshole…” She growled, angrily taking a step towards Frank. She was about to take a swing at him, but he managed to dodge her. He picked her up and easily flipped her over him. With all the force he used, she landed a few feet away from him face-first onto the floor with a painful thud. In all honesty, it was a surprise that Frank hadn’t broken her spine.

Sylvie weakly lifted her head up from the floor, noticing how wet her nostrils felt. She reached to wipe them, only to see blood on her hand. She let out a painful cough as she looked up to see Frank standing in front of her, his gaze cold. Slowly, Sylvie staggered to her feet, blood dripping from her nose. She could taste the metallic flavor, and it was making her stomach turn.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Frank sneered. “Y’know, you should probably run, unless you’d rather prefer to continue tryin’ to be a dumbass.”

Sylvie couldn’t believe it. Frank had just completely… snapped. He was an entirely different person, and it terrified her.

However, Sylvie still felt some spark of determination. Maybe she was being stupid, but at this point… she was just angry. She let out a frustrated scream and started to take out her rage on Frank, punching him in the chest over and over again. Surprisingly, he allowed her to do it, casually standing there.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he nonchalantly asked, “taking out your rage?”

Sylvie continued to punch Frank in the chest until all she could do was cry. “You bastard…” She whimpered. “You fucking bastard…”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Boo-fuckin’-hoo.” He grabbed Sylvie by the neck, holding her up above him as a demented grin formed on his face. Joey, meanwhile, was struggling to pull the stake out of her shoulder as she sat down.

“You’re pathetic.” Frank chuckled as he looked up at Sylvie, taking note of her bloody nose and bruised-up face. “I’m a hell of a lot more powerful than you, yet you’re still determined to kick my ass. It’s both admirable and idiotic.”

Sylvie squirmed and writhed in Frank’s grip, feeling the air being choked out of her. “Let me go…” She gasped, grabbing onto Frank’s hand. “Let me go…”

Instead of just simply dropping her as he had done with Joey, Frank threw Sylvie against the wall, watching coldly as she collided with it and fell to the ground, wheezing in pain.

“Ava, you need to run.” Joey ordered, letting out a sharp hiss of pain as she finally pulled the stake out of her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can handle him.”

Frank turned around to look down at Joey, before looking back at Sylvie. “I would say she’s right, but… y’know what? It would be less fun that way.”

Sylvie coughed painfully as she tried to get to her feet. She was beginning to feel increasingly hopeless, realizing she was at a severe disadvantage right now. She didn’t stand a chance against Frank.

“Less fun?” She repeated. “The fuck are you… talking about?”

When Sylvie looked at Frank, he looked like an entirely different person. It wasn’t him, yet it was. In a way, it was like he was possessed.

“You only continue to entertain me, Ava.”

Frank then sensed Joey slowly creeping up behind him again, and that was when Sylvie made a desperate run for it. She hurried out of the storage room, trying not to stumble over as she ran. Once she reached the main floor of the mansion, she realized she had to think fast. All the exit doors were locked, so she had no chance of escaping through them.

Wait…

Sylvie’s eyes landed on one of the windows that were near the front door. Perfect. Looking behind her for a moment to make sure that the coast was clear, she approached the door, deciding she’d try to open it.

It didn’t work.

“What the…?” Sylvie continued to try and open up the window, but to no avail. She was starting to panic again. Looks like I’m just going to have to break the window.

Frantically, Sylvie rushed to the dining room, pulling out one of the chairs away from the table. Slowly, she lifted it and began to make her way towards the window. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sylvie tossed the chair at the window, watching as the glass loudly shattered everywhere.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sylvie tried to climb out of the window as fast as she could, making sure not to cut herself on the shards of glass. Once she was out of the mansion, she began her escape into the nearby forest, occasionally looking behind her until she could only see trees.

STORY CONTINUES BELOW THE GIF.

The more Sylvie ran, the more she could feel her strength depleting. She was gasping for breath, and all it took was a stray tree branch sticking up from the forest floor for her to finally collapse. Her shoe landed on it, and she tumbled over, screaming in pain as she felt the branch go through her ankle. “FUCK!”

Sylvie grabbed the branch and struggled with it, trying her hardest to pull it out of her, watching as blood seeped from the deep wound and onto the grass. Once she finally managed to free herself, she let out another shriek of pain. The wound was only bleeding even more now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She whispered, panicking. Jesus, she had never felt so afraid in her life.

How am I supposed to get help? I don’t know where the hell I am.

Sylvie was feeling significantly weaker, almost as though she was slowly beginning to teeter on the edge of consciousness. She was in so much pain. Her chest hurt, her body hurt… and her goddamn ankle was killing her now. She tried to stand up to continue moving, only to stumble forward and fall again. Her heart was pounding in her chest. This is it, isn’t it?

Now she knew what it felt like to be hunted down like a helpless animal. She felt like there was nothing she could do now except surrender, considering she was already much too weak to continue running. The forest was eerily quiet, and the only sound she could hear was her labored breathing.

As Sylvie weakly laid there, she began to replay various moments from her life, some of them involving Frank. If she could go back and change things, she would… but there was nothing she could do. She was going to die alone, wasn’t she? That was her very worst fear. She was going to die alone with the knowledge that she had lived a life of regret, and there was no going back.

Sylvie continued to lay there, closing her eyes as she hoped that some animal would find her and feast on her, put her out of her misery. She couldn’t believe it, but honestly she was wishing that Frank would just fucking kill her already.

Then, she heard faint footsteps, branches cracking with each step. Sylvie didn’t even bother to look up. She had completely given up by this point.

Then, the footsteps paused. When Frank saw Sylvie laying there all motionless, he was… confused. Seeing how frail and beat-up she looked… it made him feel that damn pang of guilt again. She looked dead, yet she wasn’t. His eyes wandered to her ankle, taking notice of the fresh wound there. It was flowing with blood, and the sight was making his mouth water ever so slightly.

Trying to shove down the guilt that briefly came over him, Frank slowly made his way towards Sylvie. Once he was right in front of her, he paused to look down at her.

“Tryin’ to play dead, are we?” He asked, his gaze emotionless. “Nice try. Get up.”

At the sound of Frank’s voice, Sylvie felt her heart start to race again. Still, she didn’t move.

“I said… get up!” Frank snarled. He roughly grabbed Sylvie by her arm, trying to pull her to her feet. She only fell down to the ground again.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Sylvie slowly opened her eyes, weakly lifting up her head to see Frank standing in front of her, his expression full of annoyance. “I… I can’t…” She croaked.

Feeling a rush of impatience and irritation, Frank grabbed Sylvie again. In an act of impulse, he threw her against the nearest tree, silently cursing himself for acting in such a manner. He watched as Sylvie simply just slid down, not even attempting to defend herself. For some reason, that bothered him even more.

“Why the fuck aren’t you tryin’ to fight?” Frank snarled, walking towards her. “C’mon, I know you’re capable of it. You tried to take a swing at me not that long ago…”

STORY CONTINUES BELOW THE GIF.

Sylvie tried to force herself to stand up again, before letting out a painful gasp and collapsing to the ground again. She let out a cough, droplets of blood spraying onto the grass underneath her. Frank simply stood there and watched her struggle, his mind switching between feeling genuine pity, and then cold, emotionless apathy.

“Kill me…” Sylvie weakly whispered. “Please… just… do it…”

Sylvie was completely surrendering to him, and the sight was… mildly alarming. To see her broken down and reduced to such a weak and vulnerable state… it was actually making Frank feel… well, he didn’t know what he was feeling, but it was almost similar to… concern. He was trying to suppress that feeling as much as he could, and it was getting increasingly difficult. All he could do right now was continue to snap at her. He was at war with his own confused mind.

“I fucking trusted you, Frank.” Sylvie whimpered.

Frank let out a scoff, rolling his eyes. “Trusted me? How could you be so fuckin’ stupid? Look at where that got you. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re… you’re right…” Sylvie swallowed.

“You should’ve known from the start, Sylvie. I’m the very last person you should trust.”

Sylvie could see her vision was starting to turn cloudy, and she blinked her eyes, only to see that everything was getting cloudier and cloudier. Time seemed to be slowing down, too. The words that Frank spoke were starting to sound like barely-intelligible gibberish.

“Why won’t you… kill me?” She weakly spluttered, wiping some blood from her mouth.

“Maybe because the sight of you all weak and in pain is more fun.” Of course, Frank was bullshitting. He didn’t know why he was refusing to put Sylvie out of her misery. Maybe lying to himself would help.

“Fuck you…” Sylvie murmured. “You piece of shit…” She could barely keep her eyes open right now. She was fighting to stay awake.

You piece of shit. Those words… stung. He didn’t know why. Why was he genuinely hurt by Sylvie insulting him this time? She had done it numerous times, and he found it amusing. Now… he was hurt. Maybe it was the fact he had truly fucked up.

Then, Sylvie’s eyes slowly closed, and her head lolled to one side. As Frank took another step closer to her, he could see how weak and exhausted she was, how hurt she was.

“Hey. Wake up.” There was a combination of irritation and a sense of urgency in his voice. Frank could tell Sylvie wasn’t just “playing dead” this time — something was genuinely wrong.

“What the fuck? Wake the fuck up!” Frank grabbed Sylvie by the shoulders, giving her a rough shake. Nothing happened. “You fuckin’… goddamnit!” He let out a frustrated yell, pacing around like a caged tiger. He looked at Sylvie again, noticing how she continued to remain motionless.

Frank wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. Somehow thinking it would wake her up, he grabbed Sylvie and slammed her against the tree again. “Why won’t you wake up?” He hissed, grabbing her again. He actually felt somewhat of a flicker of hope when her eyes weakly fluttered open, looking at him with a vacant stare.

“Stay awake, goddamnit.”

Sylvie let out another painful cough, blankly looking into Frank’s icy blue eyes. “It… hurts…”

Hearing how weak and frail Sylvie sounded when she spoke… Frank hated it. He was suddenly missing her insults, her snark… this wasn’t like her at all.

As the smell of the blood from Sylvie’s wounded ankle was getting stronger, Frank was finding it even more difficult to control his bloodthirst. His fangs were aching with the urge to just bite her already.

That was when he realized something.

Sylvie was clearly struggling to hang on, and Frank realized that if she were to die… he actually wouldn’t be able to handle it. He didn’t want her to die. He couldn’t leave her here. Why was this bothering him so much? He wasn’t supposed to give a shit about her. He used to see her as simply just a source of entertainment, nothing else.

Then, Frank remembered — he had been developing feelings for Sylvie, and feelings that certainly weren’t platonic.

If he turned her into a vampire, she wouldn’t be able to die. Nothing would be able to happen to her. She’d be just like him. He could see her fighting the urge to pass out every couple of seconds, and that was when he knew he had to fucking do something. In that moment, Frank had his mind made up. He had to keep Sylvie alive. For him.

That was when Frank leaned down, tilting Sylvie’s head back just a little to expose her neck. Then, he sank his fangs into her flesh. Maybe Sylvie did have some fight left in her, because she almost instantly started to squirm and struggle. To prevent her from escaping, Frank held onto her for dear life. Once he felt the metallic taste of her blood overwhelming his mouth, it was an experience similar to a drug high. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Sylvie tried to scream and fight, but the only sounds that came out of her were weak gasps. She dug her nails in Frank’s back, trying her hardest to pull him off of her, but there was no use. “Stop… please…”

Frank knew he was probably starting to drain a little too much blood, but he just couldn’t stop. The flavor was intoxicating. He was hooked. He kept draining Sylvie until the taste of her blood was ingrained into his mind.

Sylvie continued to gasp and wheeze, still trying to get Frank to stop, but she was getting even weaker. The more blood he consumed, the more lightheaded she began to feel. Once she started to go limp, that was when Frank snapped back to reality. He pulled away from Sylvie’s neck, her blood streaming down from his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw how deep the bite wound was, and how ghastly her skin looked. She was still alive and conscious, but only desperately hanging on.

“Fuck.” Frank hissed, looking down to see what he had done. He was starting to fucking panic — his plan had backfired, hadn’t it?

He could slowly feel his vampire form starting to go dormant, his fangs shifting back into teeth as reality began to sink in more and more.

He had to fucking help her.

Taking a shaky breath, Frank easily scooped up Sylvie into his arms, and made a run for it. As he dashed through the forest, he realized he had to get her the hell out of here as soon as possible. Never in his life did he think he’d end up doing something like this, but he couldn’t just leave her here in this bleak forest to die.

Maybe he was falling for her, and the realization was scaring him. No. I’m just gonna take her back to my apartment, nurse her back to health, and then let her go home when she’s better. That’s all.

That was all… right?

[leslie-lyman]

RELEASE THE ZACH STORY

Oh anon. Be careful what you wish for. 😂

Here’s the first little bit of it, the only coherent part I could post, tbh. This was my first time ever writing a reader insert. Maybe one day I’ll finish it. Takes place during the events of the show.

Justin’s car isn’t in the driveway when you pull up, but that’s no problem.

You’re there a bit earlier than you’d anticipated, but you figure even if Justin’s not home from his shift yet you can let yourself in. You’ve been friends long enough that you know under which flower pot the spare key is kept, and you’re more than comfortable letting yourself in.

It’s a tricky balancing act getting the key into the lock with a container of cupcakes on one arm and your bag over the other, but you manage it. But with all your focus on not dropping anything, it isn’t until you shut the door behind you and turn back around to face the room that you realize you’re not alone.

The sight of a tall, unfamiliar man in the kitchen doorway across from you causes you to let out a yelp of surprise, the container of treats falling to the floor with a loud smack on the hardwood.

“Who-” The word comes out at a much higher pitch than you’d like, the adrenaline from your fight or flight response taking over fast. Have you interrupted a robbery?

The man looks almost as startled to see you as you are to see him, but he holds up his hands in the universal gesture for I am not a threat and takes the smallest step towards you.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright-” he says, his voice warm and low, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You manage to get the entire question out this time.

“I’m Zach,” he replies, “I’m a- a friend of Justin’s.”

It’s probably a good sign that he knows the name of the guy who lives here, right?

“Who are you?” he asks, and it’s with a neutral tone, but there’s an undercurrent of wariness.

You tell him your name. “I’m just here to see Justin, but his car wasn’t out front so I let myself in-” Something clicks, then, in the back of your mind, a fragment of memory surfacing from a conversation you’d had with Justin last week. “Wait, Justin told me he had someone staying with him for a bit-” What was it he’d told you about his unexpected guest? “You’re the ex-Marine, right?”

A dark look passes over Zach’s features and he looks away from you. A muscle flexes in his neck like he’s grinding his teeth together. “Yeah, that’s me.”

But as quickly as the expression comes, it fades, and when he looks back at you, his eyes are soft.

“Look, I’m really sorry for startling you,” he says, sounding genuinely contrite.

The adrenaline is slowly starting to ebb from your system, and you place a hand to your chest as if it could help slow your racing heart. You shake your head vigorously.

“No, if anything, I’m sorry for startling you. I’m the one forgetting that Justin had a guest staying with him and barging in here without any warning.” You know that veterans in particular don’t have a high tolerance for being snuck up on.

Zach swallows and reaches one hand up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s okay,” he replies, “Justin- he didn’t mention he had a girlfriend.”

The snort you make at the insinuation is both totally involuntary and utterly unladylike.

“Oh, trust me, I’m not. My relationship with Justin is strictly platonic,” you say without thinking. But then the implications catch up to you. Wait. Did he - did he say that on purpose? As a way to check if you’re single?

But Zach looks nothing but abashed at having made the wrong assumption. He rocks back on his heels and shrugs, awkwardly adorable.

“Well, I’m not sure when Justin will be back, but you’re obviously welcome to stay. I can- I can move my stuff and get out of your way.” His voice gets very quiet. He gestures to the couch and for the first time you notice the pillow at one end, a blanket folded neatly on top of it, and the large duffle bag on the floor that must be his.

Justin had mentioned that Zach had - what did he call it? - a “place to sleep problem.” Zach doesn’t meet your eye and his shoulders have curled in on themselves a little, like he’s trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Normally when people say “I’ll move my stuff” they mean “I’ll clear off some of my crap from the coffee table,” not “I can hide away the bag that holds everything I own like I don’t even exist.”

Anger flares inside you for a moment, anger that Zach would feel like his very presence is some kind of imposition onto whatever your original plans for coming over were.

That won’t do, you decide very quickly. That won’t do at all.

“Or,” you say, bending down to pick up the container of cupcakes from the floor, “you could help me see how many of these are still edible?”

Zach doesn’t smile at you. Not really. Nothing more than a tiny quirking up of one side of his mouth, but…

He nods.

[autisticlancemcclain]

13

And not in the game but how can you bring yourself to write so much? I keep trying to write but I keep getting stuck.

13 from this ask game — Have you ever received hate on a fic?

no, thankfully!! nothing yet. but i’m always afraid i’m gonna get shit for autistic lance or tall keith or whatever since i see so much hate for them 😭😭 i hope i’m spared.

as for how i manage to find the time/motivation to write so much — there’s a short answer and a long one. short answer is i cater entirely to myself and i set small deadlines to trick my brain.

long answer: okay, so i’ve been in the voltron fandom since 2016 (altho i was 14 at the time lol). so i’ve had a lot of time to think and read and look at art and generally, i had a lot of half-formed fics, ideas, headcanons, and all sorts of things flicking through my brain.

one day, i saw this lil nas tweet that planted a fic so vividly in my brain that i just… wrote. just spat the words out on the document, wrote. and i liked it! i really did. so i posted it.

after that i realised i could just… write shit down. it didn’t have to be finished, it didn’t even have to have a start! the smidges of dialogue, the fragmented pieces of fics, the longer headcanons, whatever. i could just write things down. i kept them all in one big note, and they looked a little like this (photo ids at the end of the post):

you might recognize some of my really early fic fragments! that’s because i also realised, eventually, that i could also post these! it’s free content, yknow? no room for complaints. i could just post, and i could also write whatever the hell i wanted. i liked autistic lance? i wrote him. i liked soft keith? i wrote him. i like hunk & lance’s friendship? i wrote it, and i lot of it. i wrote what i wanted to read!

at this point (i think mid-march) i had several dozen of these fic fragments stacked up. so i asked if anyone would be interested in me posting them, and i got a pretty decent response, so i started just copy-pasting, every day. just the things u already had. they did pretty decently, too, averaged about 30 notes each.

i actually got pretty attached to the notes. i’ve always thrived on external validation, so when i started to get it regularly i became a smidge attached to it, so i started feeling a little stressed about posting, yknow? i started feeling like i had to get things out every day. and then i ran out of pre-written fics to post, and i panicked. i didn’t think i would be able to come up with fics on the fly, and i was way too stressed about posting every day to even think about not doing that.

but here’s the thing… i did. come up with things on the fly, i mean. it turned out that because i was literally writing all the time, whatever came to mind, that i started building up the skills! suddenly i was able to think of ideas easily, and it was easier and easier for me to come up with whole paragraphs and full dialogues, not just pieces.

and the daily posting ended up helping me, too. i stopped putting so many damn rules on myself. the only rule i had for myself was ‘post before midnight, if you can’. i wrote whatever the hell i wanted, however long or short i wanted, however silly i wanted. just whatever. and i reminded myself that i was writing this for fun. and i really started to find joy with what i was doing.

after that, it got easier. i love what i’m doing, i’ve made some awesome friends, and when i need to take a break i take one.

so my advice is: find joy in your art. remind yourself that you’re writing for yourself. take the pressure off. everything get easier :)

(also, hey, i’ve seen your stuff!! i really like your art and have laughed at several of your posts — that sam/samurai one in particular. you’re doing great!)

[Photo I.D.: nine screenshots of different works of mine from my apple notes app. they read as follows:

first screenshot: ‘fic idea lance n keith invite everyone to some weird dress up party at halloween. it’s their wedding’

second screenshot: ‘i want femme fatale BOM lance on a secret mission literally more than i want to breathe. “oh, i live with my grandparents. i don’t have parents.” “you don’t..have…parents?” “yeah.” lance said offhandedly. “my dad abandoned me and my mom blamed me for it, so i ran away when i was seven. luckily my abuela and grand-père found me and decided to take me in,” he explained, smiling softly. his eyes never left his work, seemingly unconcentrated with the conversation - he missed the looks of horror exchanged around him.’

third: screenshot of a tweet with the caption: “I know my boss sick of me”, and then a screenshot of a text conversation: (grey bubble) “Did you call a customer dumb tonight?” (blue bubble) “No” (blue bubble) “I said ‘are you dumb’?” (blue bubble) “I was asking him” (grey bubble) “Do you think that was appropriate?” (blue bubble) “Very much so”. And then text I wrote saying “shiro to keith when he does this to a planets leader”

fourth: ‘princess buttercup - lance, westley - keith, montoya - shiro, fezzir - hunk, kid - pidge, grandpa - matt, verusi - iverson, montoya’s father - adam, old wizard guy - allura, old wizard guy’s wife - coran, humperdinck - lotor, creepy henchman of humperdinck - sendak. notes: lance solves some of the problems bc buttercup is too much of a damsel, shiro is fighting to avenge adam, allura and coran are not married obviously, lance shoots the ROOS’

fifth: ‘they all giggled, and lance snapped. “Los pendejos monolingües no tienen el privilegio de que yo traduzca todos mis pensamientos para su conveniencia. ustedes pueden jugar el papel de idiotas, por una vez. vete a la mierda.” he stormed off. klance fic where they’ve passed rivals, they’re friends, and they’re in love, but keith doesn’t know, but lance does, so lance waits patiently for keith to realize, and then he smiles softly when keith figures it out, and keith’s like “h-how, what?” and lance laughs softly and is like “you’ve been in love with me as long as i’ve loved you, baby. it just took you a little while to find out” and they live sappily ever after’

sixth: ‘we find out lance is a soccer star cus he drop kicks a bomb safely away’

seventh: ‘him?” Keith flushed, but nodded his head. Shiro smiled. “Then what does it matter if you’re gay? You like Lance. Liking him doesn’t make you any less gay. Don’t force yourself to ignore your feelings because you’ve been convinced your identity belongs to a few letters. People are complicated, Keith. We don’t have to fit into neatly labelled boxes.” au where everything is the same except lance is short as shit and also like. absolutely stacked fic where lances dad is killed and he was half raised by his oldest brother (22 yrs his senior) and he lowkey gives shiro a pep talk after shiro and keith fight because he gets the whole half brother half dad thing’

eighth: ‘i want to see a fic exploring the fact that it’s canon that shiro was a lot like lance when he was younger. i want to see lance and shiro interacting after shiro comes back to life and they’re basically The Same Person and it freaks everyone out to see them side by side. just like a problem arises and they say the same thing at the same time and side eye each other i think it could be so funny while also being so so sad. : Hunk shook his head. “It’s insane. Honestly, the main difference between them is their taste in men,” he said. Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Really?” Hunk scoffed. “You seem to go for the respectable choice of tall, sweet-sassy nerd. Lance, on the other hand -“ he gives Lance a pointed look, Lance bites back a sheepish grin. This is clearly a’

ninth: ‘explained, mischievous. “It was fun whether or not they realized they were being clowned, but watching them slowly come to find that they were schooled was certainly entertaining.” i just want to team to realise that lance clowns them constantly by playing dumb. paladins are doing the mind meld for ‘something u can’t believe you got away with’. lance projects the memory of meeting his stepmom for the first time: Lance looked at her critically. “Did your mother have, like, a ridiculously long labour, or something?” He asked her. She looked at him strangely. “Uh… what?” “I’m just trying to imagine how much pain your mother must have been in to look at her newborn baby daughter in the eyes, holding her carefully, and go ‘Ah, yes.’

All photos include a black background with white text. End I.D.]

[kurisus]

Chapter 96 thoughts

This chapter made me want to not be alive so uh let’s talk about it, group therapy style. Spoilers under the cut, obviously.

This was easily the worst chapter in a long time, but it was a different type of pain than the last bad chapter I flipped out over (Hagusa’s first appearance in 88-2). This was more like a slow, burning feeling of dread. I’m not quite sure how to describe it but this chapter definitely made me feel no less than 7 new emotions.

Things started off poorly with Yuka seeing Hiyori as being similar to her mom. Which, as we learned a few chapters ago, means the type of person to keep pushing away her pain and inconvenience with a smile. At least I’m glad Yuka decided to make her breakfast anyway.

The comparison isn’t entirely one-for-one though. Yuka and Haru’s mother was also the type of person to completely close herself off from her surroundings, not really doing anything to prevent her kids from being hurt. We know our Hiyori would never let that slide--I’m fondly remembering the multiple times she’s gone after trash dad despite how he keeps finding new ways to hurt her.

On that note, I still don’t think Yukine’s father is alive, but if he was I would love for Hiyori to kick his ass too.

Anyway, the anecdote about Haru forgetting their dad’s birthday was already rough for me. I’d forget too, if I had someone like that holding it against me every time. And of course it shouldn’t surprise me he was cruel enough to force his children to sleep outside at night, but somehow it’s just another horrible, horrible thing we were forced to learn.

Adachitoka’s really pulling no punches with Yukine’s backstory, man. Every time I think we’ve heard the worst of it, they come back with something new and equally horrible.

I’m really not sure what to make of Yuka’s “This isn’t something to talk about just after waking up” statement. What was she implying was happening to Haru? My first thought was that she realized he’s in danger somehow, and is afraid he’s going to die, but if that were true she’d be urging the girls out the door to go look for him. Feel free to tell me if it was obvious, but I was confused.

I still have no idea how Nora and Hiyori are gonna explain what happened to Haru, but I feel like Yuka will just catch a glimpse of him and realize, somehow.

I also feel like when they meet, Yukine will turn his anger on his sister at first, but hopefully Hiyori will be there to mediate things. I can’t wait for her to get some action, provided things don’t go belly-up again (they will).

Okay so I was completely NOT expecting to get the letter revealed this month so I felt blindsided.

I remember speculating the letter would be something normal, like what Yato saw in those fragments when naming Yukine. But boy, was I wrong.

He never got any of her letters, and didn’t Yuka also say she never got any of his?

Anyway, my first thought when I saw that final letter was that their dad forced him to write it, but looking at it again now I’m not so sure. I think the paneling is meant to imply their dad read out all his letters, and that was the one he was holding when the POV switched to a flashback. I also misread “I can’t take it anymore” as a sort of suicide note, but I think it was just frustration.

Either way, there’s a conspiracy going on that their dad was behind. Somehow, he got hold of all Haru’s letters, and likewise prevented Yuka’s from ever reaching him. So the two siblings wrote to each other and never got a response, each believing they had been abandoned.

It’s also horrifying that Yuka wrote about mundane things out of concern for her brother’s life and safety, yet Haru was openly writing about how much he wanted to run away. Perfect fuel for their dad’s story once he went missing, huh?

This also shows he wasn’t, like, handing the letters to his dad to mail off. He was sending them by himself, in secret, yet they all got returned one day. So like, was their mom hoarding his letters to prevent Yuka from getting them? What exactly happened here? I’m wondering if their mom was so committed to putting everything behind them that she kept all of Haru’s arriving letters and hid them away, hoping the siblings would forget about each other. But then, did she send them back? Why would she do such a thing?

I mentioned this a while ago, but nothing about this whole letter business adds up, and now there’s a whole new layer to it.

Anyway, on to what was, for me, the crux of this chapter--the page with just the “thud” and “smack” sfx, followed by an unnerving silence. This was, as is shown later, the final abuse that Haru suffered. His father got hold of the letters, ripped them up in front of his son, then beat him up and dragged him to the mountains where he dumped him in the fridge, already concocting his story about how Haru ran away. Now we know why Haru was barefoot and in his pajamas when it showed the fridge door shutting. Good lord.

This page had a deep impact on me, because though Adachitoka is not one to shy away from direct depictions of abuse (think Father smacking Yuuki against a pole or setting wolves on a crying Yato), everything about this was deeply unpleasant in a new way. I think it’s because we already knew that everyone ignored what was happening at the Tajima house, as well as the consequences of that specific instance of abuse.

I think it was @eerna who said this page goes straight to the compilation of pages that make me feel like I’ll never be happy again? bc yeah.

I gotta stop talking about this before I cry so I’m instead pivoting to taking another break from being mad at Kazuma because he was actually doing good stuff this chapter. Seems like he’s finally come around and agrees they need to get Yukine back, and is offering his help to Yato.

Poor Yato, though, remembering how their last exchange before Father named Yukine was Yukine renouncing that name in a fit of anger. I don’t think calling Sekki would work at the moment, but certainly when Yuka, Hiyori, and Nora help Yukine see reason, I can picture Yato summoning him back and away from Amaterasu.

So, they better all get their butts moving, because Father’s about to do a test run of Hagusa’s fury against those gods unfortunate enough to be in his way. Pleaaaaase let them be in time. I don’t have it in me to go through a box incident again.

If memory serves, Arahabaki is also in the area, meaning Shiigun may face off against Yuuki. But their time is running out, so Yukine’s fractured mental state will likely interfere with that plan.

One last thing before I close out this very long post. Father drew a clear parallel between himself and Yukine with their shared feelings of despair, yet the visual puts him in the same place as Yukine’s father, and Freckles as Yukine. Makes me wonder if she received similar treatment from Father as Yato and Nora did. Was their relationship not quite so “star-crossed lovers” as Father would have us believe? Was he perhaps partially to blame for her death?

In any case, seeing Yukine’s father carrying him to what will be his grave made me feel violent. I really hope that bastard is long dead, because I don’t want Yukine to become a murderer even though it would be completely justified after seeing incident after incident of the environment he grew up in.

Always questions, questions, and more questions. Feel free to send your own thoughts! See yall in October~

[brockadoodles]

Heartbreak and a New Tattoo - w. nylander

AN: Uhhhhhhhh. Definitely didn’t intend on posting a fic tonight but, cranked this out. It started off as meaning to be fluffy and cute but uh, my angsty cold heart said no? I’m trying to be better about writing shorter stuff, so let me know what you think! I’m gonna tag @broadstbroskis​ and @jasondickinsonss​ since they’re my resident willy pals. 

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Angst, happy ending though. 

No one warned you that you would lose a piece of yourself when you fell in love. They didn’t caution you about how for every good moment, the ones that make your head spin and your heart race, there would be a chip of your own sense of person falling away. They didn’t tell you that after four years with someone, you slip into their habits, nestling tightly into their life. So much so that you aren’t even sure what direction you’re facing, because everything around you was built by him. It wasn’t that William did anything wrong. In fact, he did everything a partner should. His life was logistically a chaotic nightmare, each step felt like he was balancing on a rope, trying to get to the other side. But he was good at it, he always prioritized you, even when it was hard. The only problem was that he didn’t know the very rope he was stuck on was fraying. 

It had started small, the cracks between you. The calls during road trips became shorter, less engaged. By the time either of you realized what was happening, it was just two people who once aligned into one breathing on a deadline out of obligation because it felt like that was what you were supposed to do. By the time you realized that the person you thought you were, wasn’t anyone recognizable without William by your side, you irresponsibly thought that it was time to let go. So, you let go of the visions of marriage and a family, of the house you dreamed of building together once things settled down, of the thoughts of the holidays spent together, each one more special than the last. You let it all go, taking a seam ripper to the last bits of thread connecting your souls. You couldn’t decide what hurt worse, the demise of what you thought was forever, or the fact that William didn’t put up a fight as you packed your things and left. 

William didn’t know what hit him when you muttered that you were leaving. He was so sure it had to be a mistake, that there had to be some piece of information missing that would fix everything. He felt his chest caving in, the weight of you packing your bags codifying a new language into his head, one that didn’t include you. He spent weeks circling through the last few months before you ended it. Writing down and analyzing every fight, every night spent without talking to each other when he was gone, trying to piece together what moment made you leave. What he could have done to save the very thing that was destined to fall apart no matter how much super glue he tried to stick to it. You needed to find yourself again, and no matter how badly he longed to help you, he needed to let you go. 

When William came back into Toronto in September, he was incessantly telling himself that he was doing better, that the fresh season would throw him back into a familiar enough routine that he could finally adjust to life without you. But familiarity breeds nostalgia, and nostalgia controlled the heartbreak he had spent the last few months trying to let go of. It wasn’t until he was back in the apartment that you shared that the resentment stage of his grief had tucked into his heart. 

The resentment was the worst part of the breakup. Because he didn’t want to resent anything about you. He had gotten four years to love you as best as he could, and he didn’t want to replace all of the memories of love with a feeling of regret. He didn’t regret loving you, even if it ended the way that it had. He didn’t regret thinking he was going to marry you, and when he finally moved on from the resentment stage of grief, he realized that sometimes you can put your all into someone and they simply might not be able to give you all of it back. He was slowly starting to thread the foundation of a new rope, he was starting to move on. But when he saw you standing there in your dark blue dress, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he had seen you, talking to Steph, he dropped the newly constructed rope off the ledge. 

You on the other hand were spending your summer trying to piece together the remaining fragments of your own being, the person who you were before you met William. You were doing okay, as okay as someone could be when they had just ended a four-year relationship with the person that they assumed would be the one. You spent months lying to yourself about being okay. You spent months trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a mistake, that you didn’t leave because you couldn’t handle being honest with him about how you were feeling. 

It was October and you knew he was back in the city. Hockey had started which meant that his presence was now one you actively had to avoid. You took the long way into the city and back home most days, actively avoiding the arena, knowing that being there would be too much. This half-hearted way of living in the city you called home was manageable, until December when you finally had the courage to unpack the remaining boxes from the home you shared together. 

You were going through a notebook when it fell out, Mitch and Steph’s wedding invitation from over a year ago now. You picked up the card, eyes welling with the tears you had shoved down for the last six months as you remembered that weekend. The weekend you realized Will was your person. 

“I can’t believe you and Mitch are finally getting married.” You hummed to Steph as you slid off your heels and collapsed onto the hotel bed. You had always admired Mitch and Steph, their relationship was one that was the definition of two people who fit together seamlessly, and made the choice to make it work between them. It wasn’t a fairytale or a whirlwind, it was real and raw and you couldn’t be happier as you laid in that hotel bed, dress and makeup still on, half-drunk from the overpriced cocktails that the boys kept flowing after they crashed the bachelorette party, that two of your closest friends were getting married in just two days. 

“God, I know. Is it weird I’m not nervous about it at all?” Steph called from around the corner. You stood up, your feet slightly throbbing from being in heels all night and your mind feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks as you rounded the corner and saw her taking off her makeup in the mirror. 

“No, you and Mitch are just right, ya know? It works.” You looked at her hand, eyes shifting to the diamond sitting perfectly on her ring finger, sparkly and bright and perfect for her. You grabbed your phone from the counter where you had left it earlier in the evening, not wanting to bring it out with you while you and the girls celebrated with Steph. You looked at the home screen, a small notification catching your eye as you unlocked the phone and hit play on the voicemail. Steph grabbed the phone from your hand, a knowing smile on her face as she turned the volume on the speaker up, William’s voice filling the small hallway before you had the chance to stop it. 

“Hey baby, you’re probably back in the room by now. I just wanted to say that you looked amazing tonight, and I know we can’t be together tonight because of the traditions and all that, but I love you and will be thinking of you.” 

Steph handed you the phone back, a stupid smirk evident on her face that you were pretending to ignore. You went back toward your suitcase, sliding the dress off of your body and throwing on one of Willy’s old sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. You sat on the bed, fingers hovering over your phone as you thought of a message to type back to your boyfriend, a smile lingering on your cheeks from his message. 

“You know what he said to me the night he met you? Granted, he was shitfaced, but I still think it’s relevant.” Steph smirked as she came around the corner, crawling onto the other side of the bed and turning to face you. You rolled your eyes at her and set your phone down, ignoring her slightly as she started speaking again,

“He told me ‘I’m gonna marry her one day Stephanie, just wait.’” 

You let yourself cry over that memory, and for the first time since the breakup, you realized that you were worse off without him, that you had ended something entirely too good for reasons you didn’t understand. You picked up the phone to call more times than you could count, only to set it back down again, torturing yourself with the idea that you had made your decision, and you needed to lay with it.

You were in such a daze when he walked up to you, nerves settling into your stomach at the sight of him. He didn’t look like your Willy anymore, he looked like a hollow version of the man you still were hopelessly in love with, the one that you ultimately played the biggest hand in breaking. You followed him without a word when he asked you if you could talk because the truth was that you would follow William anywhere if it meant that maybe you could get a piece of him back. 

It was awkward for a few moments, both of you riddled with nerves, wondering who was going to dare to break first and say what they were truly thinking about. It was agonizing, being so close to him for the first time in such a long time, and it only made your own doubts about leaving him to come back to your chest in full force. William grabbed your hand quickly, threading his fingers through yours before finally speaking, being the first one to crack the eggshells that you were both walking on. 

“Do you sleep well without me? Because I don’t. I don’t think I’ve slept since June when you left.” He said, head hanging down as if the words he was speaking were in some way shameful. Your heart wanted to break for him because you had been in the same situation for so long, nights feeling long and empty without him there. But part of you was almost feeling some weird sense of satisfaction at knowing he was hurting just as badly as you. You weren’t surprised he dove right in, head first. It was what he always did. He had known you for so long, there wasn’t a point in dancing around saying he missed you now that he had the chance to tell you so, he had already been doing enough to push it away on his own. He didn’t want to keep pushing something that he was starting to realize wasn’t meant to go away. 

“No, willy. I haven’t slept well since we broke up.” You shook your head, opting to tell the truth because up until this point, lying to pretend you were fine had only left you empty, with a broken heart that you didn’t know how to heal. 

“I stayed up until 6 am just because at least then if I called you might be awake. I felt like I was watching myself just get worse and worse, and all I wanted was you. I’m not supposed to want you anymore, William.” 

“I would have answered, I would always answer.” 

“It’s not the same, you know it’s not.” William sighed softly at your words as he let them run in tedious circles through his head. He had spent the better part of the last six months missing you and replaying the events from the summer wondering if you were both wrong for what had happened. Your love story had been like a journey by train, exciting when you’re young and tiring when you get older. It was great until one of you, who could even remember who at this point, had gotten off during a stop and the other one continued on the journey alone and by the time you both reached the final destination, the two different trips couldn’t merge into one anymore. But the problem was that maybe the final destination was all wrong, maybe you were supposed to get off the train because now you could come back together and start a different trip together, one that isn’t tiring when you’re older. 

He looked over at you quickly and let his eyes linger on the features of your face, the ones he used to have memorized hidden by the obvious toll the breakup had taken on you, too. He couldn’t help but think about how if he were to take one look in a mirror that he had been avoiding for the past six months, he probably wouldn’t recognize himself either. 

“I tried to call you,” he started, voice tentative and unsure as you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blurry, and your mind nearly blacked out at the five words he just spoke. Five words that maybe could change everything, or perhaps they would have if you had seen the call in the first place. You tilted your head softly as William ran his hand through his hair. 

“But, your voicemail was full.” You looked away from him, the pain in your chest creeping back in as you took in his second set of five words. Your voicemail, the one that had been filled with messages from him, from times where you were happy, and from drunken nights after the breakup where he sometimes would call and all you would hear on the other end was silence. 

“I couldn’t bring myself to delete them, I just wanted a place where I would be able to hear your voice and have it be just for me,” you smiled sadly, letting the tears blur your vision as you stood up. You didn’t know what to do, this all felt suffocating and overwhelming and yet definitive at the same time. This was it, you were either getting William back, or you were letting him go forever. The choice should have been a simple one and yet it was almost more complicated than the initial choice to breakup had been because at least when you did that, you both thought it was what you wanted. Now you were presented with either putting your heart out in the open, tossing it carefully to the person you had known for so long and putting your trust in him to catch it, or you were running the risk of him dropping it and leaving you crumbled on the floor as you tried to pick up the remnants of whatever would be left after a fumble that big. 

“I spent Christmas without you, please don’t make me spend New Years without you, too.” 

“I don’t want to spend any day without you again.” You whispered, resting your hand on his cheek. William smiled at you and pulled you close into his chest. He tilted your head up and connected his lips to yours, something that you both had spent the last six months missing. You settled into him, feeling your fears melt with each moment that passed. The breakup had left heartache in both of you, but it was necessary to put your real love into permanent ink on both of your chests. A new start, one without heartbreak and with a new tattoo. 

[lover-of-trash-and-people]

bittersweet netflix shadow and bone finale (s1 e8) rewatch; accoutrement: white wine with ice cubes in it (no YOU'RE a mom drink shh)

my wine's like fruity I love her

light and darkness title card we love to see it

Inej looking at Alina before she goes below deck to hide <3

okay that 'what can you really do on your own' was like not fun that shit hurted

okay but Jesper's 'not enough'? <3

oh no my baby Zoya's first inkling that Darkles does not really care

omg Helnik just appeared and I remembered how much heartbreak I have to face in this episode

gods I love Danielle as Nina so so much

'this can't be it' said she with her pleading smile with downturned eyebrows MA'AM I-

don't break my dumb little heart

I might hate Calahan's little accent but they're making me tear up

oh gods I literally cannot keep a hold on myself when Dani's accent bleeds through with full force, it's like she comes more alive or smth

'I will keep you warm' SIR WHAT-

I am surprised they showed a leaning in for a kiss so soon but I'm not mad about it

her little eyebrow twitch at 'what are waffles'

when that rando said 'i hunt slavers now' a dread settled into me because I knew what was about to go down

Matthias looking somberly at the stuffed wolf's head </3

I am so incredibly entranced by this exchange between Fedyor and Nina and what it represents, it's very interesting that they pushed up their storyline to match with the timeline

damn it's kind of jarring to be back in the Fold

'REMEMBER WHO'S DRIVING'??!!!! *you better stop* meme, *i am, disgusted* meme, *oh wow, oh wow* meme

Mal you fucking idiot you could never take the crows by surprise

the music rising as Kaz starts explaining his thought process, fucking perfection

haha Mal bitchass Inej caught you

'Because if he isn't with Kirigan's crew, he's with ours' WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED

'And why would we destroy the Fold? It's the greatest weapon we've got' valid point at the moment but you know I don't necessarily agree with your methods

the use of the light tunnel in the show instead of Alina just being a super flashlight in the books is quite an interesting addition as well

is this an inappropriate time to point out how pretty Ben Barnes is

okay I kind of love the depiction of the shadow powers okay sue me

'they are traitors who tried to kill you' why are you suddenly making valid points despite having kind of committed low scale genocide

'i never said I was smart' YES MAL BE THE VOICE OF HIMBOS EVERYWHERE

Kaz's face going from 'can you believe this idiot' at Mal to 'fuck me I'm gonna do the same thing aren't I' at Inej

'For who would oppose us now?' *himbo romantic rival appears out of nowhere and shoots at him* god I love this show

him standing calmly in his ridiculous all black attire after nodding at his soldier to stop the himbo in his tracks, i fucking can't

could she summon light without the Darkling making her after he put the collar on her until the uhm moment in the books? idts but in the show she can hmm

'only because I'm not in the game' you tell him Jesper

not me snickering at 'you'll be seen not as a saviour, but as a heretic' LMFAO

'Shame. I'll have to give that speech again now.' THIS SHOW IS A FUCKING COMEDY AND YOU CAN'T PROVE ME WRONG

YES LET'S FUCKING GO SULI SOLIDARITY

Darkles casually whipping the Cut out like a shuriken or a throwing knife at Jesper because he shot at him lmao I can't

INEJ FUCKING GHAFA STABBED ONE THE OLDEST AND MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE IN THAT WORLD AND THAT IS VERY TELLING OF HER POWER

that moment where you actually think that affected him despite having read the books and watched the show

and then he has to go and fucking say 'it will take more than this' and I can't be help but be a little bit impressed at this old fool's resilience

throwback to when he said 'the king is a child' sir you make some valid points sometimes and it does make it difficult to hate you

I would just like to inform everyone that it is currently 6:09 am IST and I am sipping my second mug of wine while watching netflix sab for the second time instead of doing my three papers that are due tomorrow

I'm sorry but Inej jumping to check on Zoya after she gets knocked over by the volcra? first class display of solidarity and sisterhood as well as Inej's inherent kindness

Kaz jumping in front of a FUCKING VOLCRA AND STABBING IT WITH HIS CANE to save Inej, you best believe love is true, kids

god the volcra are so ugly and gross, they did such a good job with them

they kind of remind me of these creatures (I think they might have been called Hollows or smth) from the Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children movie

STAG VISION TIME

despite my dislike for the callous nature with which the stag plotline was handled, I kind of dig the stag vision scene

'It's just me and you now, Alina. And we're all we need, anyway.' I actually feel bad for this old fool simping for this wonderful gorgeous powerful woman despite lying to her and manipulating her and exploiting her power

okay 'I never needed you' *stabs the bone fragment out of his hand* beautiful power move I fucking love you so so much

alright ben looking like ✨ that✨ not only in physical pain but also emotional pain at what the Darkling clearly considers another betrayal from this girl he wants to give the world and maybe? loves? maybe? or at least has feelings for makes my fucking heart hurt while simultaneously soar at Alina taking back control and reclaiming her power as her own and stepping into her own

'how do you claim such power' okay could have had better dialogue there writers

the fucking score lifting as she says 'you cannot claim what was not given to you' good people my heart is full

one day I'll talk about my defense of the chosen one trope because god damn I kind of love it

hmm I wonder was that brief hesitation that we saw on Alina's face due to her thinking about the 'you chose to betray our people' comment or the 'i was trying to save us' comment because that will define some of her actions in the later seasons (hopefully god if we get some, I honestly don't know what with this stupid brownface debacle)

I'm not saying talking about brownface and pointing out that it is wrong (for further context, I am actually brown) and harmful is stupid btw I'm talking about the incidents involving brownface in question

I don't wanna talk about this anymore but I might feel like I need to and end up posting about it idk

goodness Ivan actually believing in this cause makes me so sad because he too has been victimized by the system that ostracizes Grisha and he has every right to feel the way that he does

Ben actually fighting in that ridiculously heavy cloak and kefta when he's about to turn 40 this year makes me super impressed because I as a 19 year old sometimes wake up with muscle pulls after weeks of inactivity it's weird idk

also I understand that this Mal Darkling fight is completely fanservice and serves nearly no purpose to the plot in general but like I? love it?

'I don't have to kill you Darkling. Your past will do it for me' YES HIMBO GO OFF YOU TELL THAT OLD MAN GODS THAT WAS SEXY AS FUCK

maybe it's because I know Darkles will survive and will come out of it more powerful but I can't get myself to feel bad for him at the moment

Inej and Mal tearing up at Alina's condition made me almost feel something despite it being super obvious she was gonna be fine and save their asses at the last moment

HER POWER

a solitary Kaz in spotted on the western side of the newly expanded fold in his signature all black emo boy look

okay but the crows with zoya and malina is such an adorable team? I literally love them so much?

INEJ'S FUCKING SMILE AT ALINA GIVING HER THE DAGGER AND KAZ LOOKING AT HER AGSGSGSHSJSJSK MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE

SHE KNOWS JUST WHAT TO NAME IT WELL GIRLIE I KNOW IT TOO AND MY FUCKING HEART IS LITERALLY GONNA BURST

okay I know they had one interaction but Mal and Jesper would be besties in another universe

Kaz glaring at Jesper when he answers ''course not' to Alina's 'will you still be trying to kidnap me?' tell me one fucking adaptation that got the dynamics between characters this perfectly

okay why do I love that Alina kept the jewellery as maybe a small nod to she has the wits to, um, you know, I don't wanna say steal, but, um, yeah, steal it because she knew she would need money to survive on the run

oh Jessie I love you so much I wish you hadn't said those things on you ig story about the brownface

it's like every single celeb I grow attached to god's like nope that one is going to do or say something problematic (hey btw im not reassigning blame to god for stuff people have done out of their own free will, 'twas a joke)

AAAAAAAH them saying 'the deal is the deal' in the show even though they didn't have to but like they did and I love them for it

Inej literally not being able to not stare at Kaz's face and smile after this <3

'I didn't expect it to burn at all. But it can be destroyed in the end. Just like him' babe you're not wrong but like um just you wait

god Mal being on supportive boyfie mode is well, absolutely adorable, obviously, but I wish we got to see more of him as a person outside of his attachment to Alina

kaz my little demjin I wish you hadn't have had to suffer so much to meet the crows and find your calling

fastforwarding Zoya's arc is also an interesting choice to me

I wish the hug hadn't been done though, it didn't feel earned

maybe Alina awkwardly and half-heartedly (remember, at this point the alliance is fresh and they still don't entirely trust each other) reached for a hug and Zoya avoided her? and then the rest of Zoya's lines followed? that would have made more sense to me at least

I love Sujaya as well, she brought life into Zoya with whatever little screentime and scraps of writing she got

inej asking kaz 'what's your angle?' beep bop bleep morp I sense another incoming embarrassing love confession

'but we do need you' *stares at her face intensely* 'I need you' ah look at the clock, look's like it's time to screech and flap your arms like you're a volcra because you're incapable of containing your emotions

NO YOU CAN'T GO DIRECTLY FROM KANEJ PROGRESS TO HELNIK BREAKUP (TEMPORARY, MIND YOU)

helnik my loves you don't deserve this I'm so sorry for both of you

Matthias fucking smiling ruefully while he says 'this was... just a cruel joke all along' THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY

omg hellgate

AAAAAAAAH NINA IS ON THE SAME FRAME AS THE OG CROWS I CAN'T HANDLE THIS

CAMERA PAN FROM KAZ SAYING 'JUST HOW THIS ALL STARTED... WE'RE GONNA NEED A HEARTRENDED' TO NINA OVERHEARING HIM AND LOOKING OVER?????!!!!!! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME?!

Nina genuinely being curious as to the status of the sun saint because she obviously still cares

Also, 'But she is a Saint' okay Kaz trying to earn brownie points you have succeeded

DID THAT SAILOR JUST SAY 'GOED MORGEN FENTOMEN' TO MALINA BECAUSE I AM NOT OKAY WITH THEM JUST THROWING THAT IN MY FACE ALL OF A SUDDEN

gods I know I'll probably see them again but my heart is full of sorrow as my eyes drink in the sight of my crows for the last time for a while

I know people were annoyed at the meadow flashbacks but guess what? as a darklina, I loved them

'now that the Darkling is dead' could have phrased that a little differently my dudes that line needed to hold more weight

am I glad that they showed Darkles in this state with his nichevo'ya as a tasty little cliffhanger despite not being entirely true to the source material? maybe but only because Ben Barnes saying 'follow' and the nichevo'ya doing exactly so sent a chill down my spine

well, that's it for now, I'll have to move on I guess, get back to my real life which I'm obviously not ready to do

thank you to whoever actually read these things

I probably should have just made reactions or commentary videos instead but I'm lazy

my tumblr will probably go into inactivity once more as I emerge from my stint in the grishaverse

it was quite short (less than 2 months), considering the length of my other obsessions but it was definitely more intense than the other ones

[ofmythsandmadness]

movie night (request).

REQUEST;  May I request a fic with Diego, mutual pining and yearning and all that good shit. Just kinda an all around fluffy fic, and it ends with them confessing to each other or something like that? Love you!💕 -- anon PAIRING; Diego Hargreeves x gender neutral reader. (2nd pov) WARNING; not much. a couple curse words, some bad writing (forgive me, it’s late).

NOTES - This is short (for me) but sweet & really all dialogue. But it’s okay!  I finally got a request done in only a few days, which is nice for once. I know I’ve got two other things to put out, they’ll come later (aka updates for inaf and that trilogy i had). but anyways, hope you like and thank you for requesting anon! Also, not edited and a bit bleh at the end (whoops). xx

“KLAUS, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN RIGHT NOW!”

“NO!”

“This is MY apartment!”

“And this is MY body, so--!”

You roll your eyes and slump back down to the couch. Your eyes leave his indignant glare and fall back to the two movies on your lap. “For the last fuckin’ time, you can’t just declare that as your argument! It’s my TV, and I don’t wanna watch Zoolander!”

“Well, I don’t want to watch that!”

“That?” Your hands scrabble at the DVD case before lifting it to his face. “That is an American treasure, dumbass! This is like, the greatest comedy ever made!”

“I didn’t laugh once!”

“You haven’t seen it!”

“SO?!”

“GUYS!”

Before you could retort or Klaus could cut you off (again), a third voice joined the fight. Diego.

Without even thinking about it, you smiled at him, forgetting for just one second about your fight.

Just for a second.

“Diego, thank goodness you’re back, I can’t handle this alone!”

“I could hear you two screaming from down the hall,” he huffed, heading in with a bowl and a frown. “Klaus, you’re gonna get Y/N another noise complaint.”

Klaus pouted. “She started it!”

“How the hell is asking what movie you wanna watch starting a fight?”

He just stuck his tongue out at you.

“You guys always fight over this,” Diego sighed. He sank into the couch and in response, you shuffled back, giving him just enough room to get comfortable before sinking back. “I’m starting to think movie night was a bad idea.”

“No!”

“No-o,” you groaned. Without thinking, your forehead fell to his shoulder, emphasising a facepalm without having to lift your own hands (which were still clinging tightly to your DVD). “This is a good idea, your brother just can’t compromise.”

“Compromise? You just want to watch -- Diego, she’s impossible!”

The man just sighed, and you felt the vibrations of the heavy sound leave his shoulder to your forehead. “Shut it, both of you. I’m picking. We’re watching this one.”

You glanced up to see him gesturing at your choice. Immediately, your eyes lit up and you turned to his brother with a resounding ‘HA!’.

“That’s not fair!”

“How’s it not fair?” chorused both you and Diego at the same time. 

“You always go with her pick!”

Your smile died a little, replaced with new anger. “That’s not true, you’re just a sore loser! And your brother has taste!”

But Klaus didn’t even care for the half-baked insult; he was ploughing right along with his first point, almost excitedly too. “You always do! Every time we fight and you pretend to ‘break up the fight’, but you’re not sly, dear brother!”

Diego frowned beside you. “That’s not true. I picked yours last week.”

“No, no you did not! We watched Inception even though you said before that one chick freaks you out too much!”

“Well -” you pause, mulling over his words just the littlest bit; maybe he did have some fragments of a point. “Well, that’s not totally valid. I mean, Ariadne’s not in the movie that much, he doesn’t have to look at Vanya’s doppelganger the whole time.”

Diego nodded. “‘Sides, it was better than whatever the fuck you chose.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Klaus cooed, still on top of your coffee table and still way too energized to be standing on it. You really should stop letting him stand on such delicate things - but perhaps that argument could wait until after he was done making such weird points. “It’s always her - I mean, Diego, don’t you think you’re laying it on a bit thick?”

“What?!”

“Huh?!”

Klaus scoffed. “Come on - you two have been making goo-goo eyes and sweet little gestures for as long as I’ve known you two! Movie nights are just the next thing you’ve taken away from me, and manipulated to be about your sick mutual pining scheme!”

Your mouth dropped open in a move to immediately dispute, only to simply hang, unsure what there was to say to that. He was wrong, of course - for the sure fact that you knew Diego did not like you at all. Wouldn’t you know, already if he did? Sure, maybe you were a little obvious with your feelings sometimes, but only occasionally, and they were never received as much.

This was just a grand scheme to get his movie picked, and you told him that, proudly calling him out on what you thought was just a big game.

But Klaus did not react as you thought he would. Instead, he leapt down from his post and sank down to sit on the coffee table, teetering into a cross-legged position. His long fingers jabbed at the both of you. “You two are so in your heads, you’ve gone blind to the other person. I mean, Y/N, you’re literally curled around Diego right now, does that not register in your brain?”

Okay, so that was correct. You were close to him, maybe not as close as he said but your head did rest on his sleeve, and your hands --

-- awkwardly, you pulled away, crossing your arms across yourself. “Not a good point; I’m just comfortable with him. As I am with you.”

“Ah, but we don’t cuddle like two babes in a pea pod, do we?”

“Klaus, you’re being-”

“-foolish? Am I? Diego, brother of mine, you look at Y/N like she’s aligned the stars and moon and given them to you as a gift! And you look at me like I’m dirt on the side of -”

“-Klaus,” you hissed, with hot cheeks and a new feeling bubbling at your throat (embarrassment, maybe? fear?) that you did not want to spill. “If I pick your movie, will you stop this nonsense?”

The young man huffed, raising his knees up and flapping them down again. “Don’t be so scared of acceptance, dear Y/N! I mean, think of the potential, two people with questionable taste finally joining and becoming one?”

“Klaus!”

You rose from the couch suddenly, jerky motions and wide eyes in an attempt to hide your overwhelming emotional buildup. You didn’t look at Diego. “Sit, Klaus, please, and let me put on this damn movie so we can be free of this? Stop making our lives a rom-com!”

“Am I wrong?!”

“Yes!” You responded, indignant and loud. Still you refused to look Diego’s way. “Come on now. If Diego thought of me as attractive, I’m sure we would’a worked it out in the many years of our friendship. Right? Let’s just watch this film.”

Klaus mumbled something under his breath, but it was too quiet for you to catch. He slumped down in your place and grinned, “Diego, will you cuddle me like-”

“-I will gut you like a fish, asshole-”

“-movie time, quiet up!”

You sank down into your chair, cold and missing Diego’s presence, and avoided his searching eyes. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t something you were sure you could emotionally deal with; Klaus pretending like your feelings could be requited would be enough pain for the night. You’d gladly watch his pick if it meant quiet.

“HEY.”

You didn’t look up from the dishes; you didn’t have to, to recognise the voice. “Hey. Klaus asleep still?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You, uh…” Diego’s voice followed behind you, until you were pretty certain he was leaning on the counter almost directly from you. “All the stuff he said…”

You forced a chuckle, even though your heart had almost immediately sunk. And here you thought you’d be free of more tragedy that night. “Ha, yeah. So weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, losing momentum with every second. Did you have to do this? You were tired and lonely and sad, and you didn’t want to get second helpings of unrequited feelings that night. But still, you played along. “Such a joke. You n’me? I know you don’t feel that way, don’t worry.”

“What if--” he stopped, short.

You waited a moment to see if he’d continue, only to be met with silence. You turned to stare at him. He leant back on his arms with his head down, so you couldn’t see whatever look he wore on his face. 

“What if…?”

“What if…” he paused again, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. “I...if...I dunno. It wasn’t all a joke.”

Okay, you were starting to freak out a little, If this was some sort of joke… “Diego, I really don’t ha-”

“-I like you, Y/N.”

And just like that, your heart had stopped.

Well, not really. Though it did feel like it did; one moment you thought he was there to confront you about your feelings, and the next you could only start at him like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure whether or not to run or to just stand and wait for the impact.

“W-huh?”

“I-idiot’s talking about me,” he groaned, and clearly he was forcing the words out, practically spitting them to avoid stuttering. “I-I just didn’t say it cause-”

“-don’t say that.”

Diego stopped. “What?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step away from the dishes. Your soapy hands moved out to just almost touch him. “He’s way too adamant on his choice in movies. And some might say he has no choice...but he’s definitely not an idiot.”

Slowly, Diego, rolled away from the counter and lifted his head to look at you. You could see the same look in his eyes you were sure reflected in yours; confusion, fear, a little bit of that bubbling excitement that came with passion--

“He figured out we were both into each other ‘fore either of us had a clue.” You stepped nearer; the two of you were nearly touching. You forced your head up, staring him down with a smile. “To be completely honest, this feels like a fever dream. Not sure this is even happening.”

“Oh,” he whispered, and it came out more like a sigh than a word. His hands met your waist, trembling but pressing. “Y-”

-you cut him off. Quickly, before you could lose your will (or grip on reality, whatever came first) you lifted up on your toes and to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to his own. It was brief but sure, only lasting a second before pulling away.

“I like you too, dummy.”

His eyes reopened and stared down at you, wide and happy. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know how you didn’t notice,” you laughed, itching to kiss him again. Why had you pulled away so quickly? His taste didn’t even remain on your own lips, no matter how you licked at them. “I feel like I was obvious as hell.”

Diego smiled a little, soft and pretty. “I g-guess I was just b-b-busy lookin’ at you like you hung the moon, or - or whatever Klaus said.”

“IT WAS ALIGNED THE STARS AND MOON, YOU LOVESICK FOOL!”

“GO BACK TO SLEEP, KLAUS!”

“...DID YOU GUYS KISS YET?”

“KLAUS!”

[trashi-bee]

Night Shift

Pairing: Young Sub! Joe Elliott x Sassy! Reader

Warnings: 18+ (smut!), light hair pulling, light choking, reader is kinda rude asf towards joe 🤪

Lil Summary: Joe’s your new coworker and things haven’t been going so smoothly, after causing you a considerable amount of stress you finally voice your irritation, which he responds to extremely well.

Requested Tags: @satchie666 @white-lightning-625

Special thanks to @thewritingdoll for forcing me 🔫 to write for the first time in DECADES (bc I never finish anything ☺️)

If you don’t think it’s trash lemme know 💖 I probably won’t add this onto my masterlist until I get my new laptop lol I hate posting on mobile tumblr,, the formatting just makes no sense to me 🥺

——

Working night shift had its perks. The hastle of dealing with the general public was reduced and the atmosphere was a lot more lax. For a while you had a pretty good thing going, being the only employee willing, or needed, to come in at such bleak hours.

Unfortunately, your boss had convinced himself you were in dire need of a workmate in case an incident were to occur, which wouldn’t have been so bad, had the person he hired been anybody else.

Joe was incapable… Really easy on the eyes, but unable to learn even the simplest of tasks. You’d considered having him fired, but couldn’t bring yourself to lodge a complaint. Sure, he’s a little daft, but having him parade into work with a pair of form fitting jeans stretched across his tight figure was almost enough to make up for it, almost.

The undeniable sound of glass shattering detaches you from your salacious thoughts, irritation immediately bubbling throughout your body. Not even an hour into tonight's shift and he’s already managed to turn your mood sour. Dragging your feet across the floor in a huff, you push your way through aisles of snacks and refreshments, stopping to exhale before you enter the room labeled ‘employees only’. The scene you’re met with would have been comical, had similar instances not happened several other times before. With a look of vapid confusion evident on his face, he looks down towards the floor, eyes laid upon the fragments strewn around his feet. The coffee, freshly brewed, had splattered across numerous tiles and up his taut, denim pants.

“Uuhhh, I don’t know how it slipped-”, disorderly grabbing a handful of the nearest napkins, he drops to his knees, further soaking his jeans with the caffeinated beverage while haphazardly mopping up the mess he had created. You’ve made an effort to tightly pinch the bridge of your nose to cease your escalating rage, preventing a full-on outburst. Plastering a forged smile upon your face, you finally gain enough composure to speak, “I’m almost impressed by how clumsy you are”. Looking into your eyes through stray strands of brunette hair, he flashes a vacuous smile, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I promise I’ll do better… just having a hard time concentrating lately”.

Squinting your eyes in confusion, you’re bewildered by his confession, what exactly did that mean? Pushing all thoughts of perplexity to the side, you chalk it up to nothing, perhaps he was having a difficult time adjusting to night shift. Now feeling somewhat guilty for your attitude towards him, you lower onto your knees to help, carefully picking up rouge pieces of sharp glass.

After a considerable amount of time and effort, the mess is almost entirely taken care of, albeit a few sticky patches here and there. Caught up in cleaning the room around you, you’ve almost forgotten about your uncoordinated coworkers tarnished attire. Wringing out the bottom of his pants, he still manages to hold a delighted smile, as if nothing could ruin his cheerful mood. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible as you were leading him on to be, as you find your cold demeanour now warming up to his rapturous personality.

Simply watching him move was a spectacle of its own. The way he carried himself was .. klutzy, like he was unsure of his next move, allowing his body to haphazardly lead the way. Looking once more in your direction, he flips his hair to prevent it from further blocking his vision, leaving it to cascade down the side of his face. Straightening his frame and leaning against the nearest countertop, he stops to speak, putting on a tone that, if you weren’t mistaken, was slightly apprehensive “hey uh... I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I’ve been wondering-”, his body seemed to tense with each syllable that crossed his lips, feet unable to stay perfectly grounded. Just as he was about to finish his wavering sentence, his hand slightly slides forward, his large paw knocking a new slew of objects onto the floor.

You watch in vexation as he fumbles once more, like a bull in a china shop, unaware of his lanky stature. As soon as he’d begun to redeem himself, he’d managed to piss you off further. Neither of you had moved, he awaited carefully to gauge your emotions, eyes darting from the broken mug that decorated the floor and your face, now painted with a blank expression. No longer did you possess the patience to babysit a man your own age, every single instance of irritation he’s caused you now bubbling directly to the surface, irritability extremely evident in your voice “Can you do anything right?”.

Scratching the nape of his neck, he goes to shrug, “hey no need to be so-“ stopping him mid-sentence , you interrupt whatever thought he had conjured and thought appropriate to spill from his unoccupied skull, “I’ll speak to you in whatever manner I please, and if you have any ounce of intelligence, you’ll shut up to listen”. Quiet for once, his mouth stays firmly closed for what seems like the first time since you’ve met him. Proud of standing your ground, you begin once more, pushing your limits, “since it’s obvious there’s not a single thought floating through that pretty little head o’ yours, I’ll make this simple, I’m tired of your constant mistakes- it’s not cute, I’m not impressed, and you’re gonna start listening to my instructions or I’ll have you fired”, nibbling on his bottom lip and focusing on every word you speak, he eagerly shakes his head in agreeance, too scared to respond with any other notion.

“Now, I can tell you’ve never had to put on your big boy pants and put any effort into a single task, so this is gonna be rough, but I’m sure if you try really, really hard, you’ll be able to function somewhat decently, ya?”, conjuring up a smile that was sarcastically sweet, you finish, clasping your hands together to signify you’ve made your point. It wasn’t until the red hot rage within you had started to disperse with the end of your speech that you began to notice one unreasonably large elephant in the room; the crotch of his jeans now tighter than usual, a large protrusion begging to spring free from its confines.

Your first reaction was to scoff, you couldn’t believe he’d gotten off on your tangent, excited by your frustration and cruel words. Thoroughly eyeing up his bulge, you slowly trace your sight up to his reddening cheeks, “that’s the type of stuff you’re into?”.

Finally speaking up, his voice seems shakier than ever, shy and wavering, “well uh- fuck, it’s not my fault you look so damn good when you’re mad”, hyper-aware of the confession he begins to jumble his words, “well, I mean you always look good but- oh god I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t speak to you like this-“

Stepping forward and lifting your hand to the bottom half of his face, you cover the entirety of his mouth, “shut up”, using your other hand to trace lines on his stomach, he retracts, surprised by your touch. With a devious look on your face, you provide him with a proposition, “Do you want me to touch you?”. Since you’ve removed his ability to consent verbally, you await a nonverbal cue, one he provides before you’re able to finish your sentence, an undeniable yes given to you via enthusiastic nod.

Laughing at his eagerness to continue, you taunt him, sliding your northernmost hand into his dense locks and pulling on the strands. The hand once dancing on his abdomen now applying pressure on his clothed member. A string of whimpers already begin to fall from his plump lips, he reacts as if he’s barely been touched before. “You’re so..sensitive, does nobody touch you besides yourself?”, looking into your eyes with heavy lids, he begins to grind into your hand, keen for more friction “nobodies ever touched me quite like this”.

Shaking your head, you pull at his hair once more, lavishing in the power you have over him in this moment. “Really? surprised you haven’t been put in your place sooner, guess somebody had to do it”, outlining his rock solid cock with your hand, you begin a rhythm of running your fingers along his covered shaft, moving up and down his length again and again. A few small droplets of sweat begin to form on his skin, the pleasure he was so eager to receive now turning bitter sweet. Huffing out a sigh and continuing to rock his hips with the motion of your wrist, he pleads “can you please touch it, like- really touch it”.

Increasing the pace you’ve set on the outside of his jeans, you get extremely close to his face, so close that he goes in for a kiss, but you make sure to reject it. “I really don’t think you deserve that”.

Grasping the countertop to his side, he clamps down in frustration, looking to prevent himself from going off the deep end, allowing you to break him so easily. “I promise I’ll do anything you want, really I do”, finally releasing your grip on his hair, you move your hand onto his neck, lightly applying pressure and running your thumb along his jugular. “Baby boy, I’m certain you’d do anything I want no matter what”.

The new pet name seems to excite him further, as he’s now reduced himself to a mewling, needy little toy, giving into your cruel pleasure, twitching and jerking with your every touch. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he sharply inhales, as if he was taken by surprise, “fuck, please don’t y/n”.

Applying much more pressure on his neck, you giggle, breaking him was so easy, and something you’re certain you’ll continue on future occasions. “Let it go, baby”, his orgasm was coming on fast and strong, you could tell from the way he squirmed beneath your unrelenting touch.

With one final thrust against your hand he trembles, a sweet sob leaving his mouth, making you aware that he’d actually came from nothing more than clothed petting. A small wet patch had formed on his crotch, physical evidence that he’d climaxed in his pants.

Standing up straight and composing yourself, you run your hands down your body to rid your attire of any wrinkles or imperfections. You’d been away from the front of the store for so long, you’re certain somebody must’ve been awaiting service and you didn’t want to look disheveled in front of a customer. Turning on your heels, you glance back at him before exiting to attend to your duties, “change the pants, clean up the mess you’ve made and meet me out front when you’re ready to learn”.

[keeper0fthestars]

ao3 writing tag gameee

I was tagged by @miceenscene because she knows i love getting tagged in stuff like this :D thanks, babe xo

How many works do you have on AO3? 

- 24 - (23 of which were written in the last 16 months) 

What’s your total AO3 word count? 

- 54,160 - 

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you were my new dream (and you were mine) (474)

would you let me (425)

more than sight (287)

touch me  (275)

fragments (169)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

It means a lot to me when i see that someone has taken the time to tell me they liked what I’ve written, it doesn’t matter if it’s a specific line or just a general keysmash of emojis, you better believe i’m gonna acknowledge that! I try to respond to every comment.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

ooof , okay i definitely do not have the emotional capacity to write angst. Even the angst in What Used To Be Sin is balanced with heaping softness at the end. But then I remembered that I wrote By Hand, so that counts. It started out as an innocent exploration of Din’s handwriting and then it just veered off into a pit of angst that i was not prepared for in the least 😭

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I’m incapable of writing an ending that’s not happy. But the happiest ending?

Midnight Cravings 

More Than Sight 

You Were My New Dream

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written? 

i have a frankie x f.reader x marcus p. threesome WIP that is still very much in the early stages, with a few other snippets posted here and here 

Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

no, thank goodness, although there was one reblog i remember, the tags were sort of sarcastic? and while i’d like to believe they liked it? since they reblogged it, sometimes i still wonder lol 

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes but not always. for ex: i have 11 mandalorian one-shots and only 3 of them contain smut. 

i tend to write soft smut, with the focus on emotions

Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

not that i know of

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but that would be soooo cool 

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

alas that would be way too much pressure for me, but i’ve co-written entire au’s inside the dm’s and can confirm it’s the best feeling ever

What’s your all-time favourite ship? 

stucky

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

god there's so many. i feel like the majority of them are lingering at approx 85% done, and whether or not they get finished at this point is completely out of my control. Some of them are over a year old, and i would love nothing more than to just finish one of them. Just one. 

In addition to those, there is an untitled bodyguard!Din au that has ballooned out of thin air and come to life after being dormant for months and I’m definitely not complaining about that 

What are your writing strengths?  

intimacy, emotions, imagery, softness.

What are your writing weaknesses?

action scenes, comedy, and i lack the discipline for long chapter fics, but not from lack of trying.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i absolutely love it when stories include a character’s range of languages. i’m gonna use some of Mice’s answer here because i also love it when the author provides the translation in the notes and if you’re going to use a language you’re not familiar with, you should always accept ANY AND ALL CRITICISM from a native speaker

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

[this information has been redacted]

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? 

honestly, it changes from day to day, but right now it’s Show Me Give Me for two reasons: 

1. it was my first time playing with emotional dynamics like that and it all came together in a way that still makes me think, ::fuck that was fun::

2. the unexpected response to it has been wild :)

tagging @anyone who reads this! 

[nomunamuinmybrain]

Bitter 6

Finally! It took me so long to get it together and finish this chapter. A lot has happened in my life since I last posted but most importantly I graduated from university. Now that I have all the time in the world I want to give all my attention to writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you are all safe and healthy given the situation with the pandemic.

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

Summary: Sometimes our thoughts get the best of us. Sometimes depression gets the best of all of us. Too oblivious to realize that we are surrounded with love. This is a story about learning to receive love, learning that you deserve love. A fun group of friends and their lives as they gradually change and grow. Sometimes bitter other times sweet much like chocolate such is life.

FLUFF WITH A SPRINKLE (or so) of smut/Slow pace

words: 1.7k

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

Chapter 6

A knot forming in my belly, the sensation stretching to my heated mound forcing my thighs to rub in frustration. My hand slithers from my aching breasts to my slit, I can’t believe how wet I got just thinking about him. Next thing I know, the other side of the bed sinks under his weight as he makes his way over me. I am not sure how he got here but I don’t care. I can feel his scent, heavy and sweet, making me dizzy. His hands take over from mine, teasing and touching me. I want him to taste me everywhere. Devour every inch of my being with his sinful mouth, marking me as his. It’s as if he is in my head, knowing my every thought, every desire. My hands pinned above me held by his hand.

No longer thinking reasons to resist this, I completely surrender to his touch. My back arches wanting even more, he is everywhere, I breathe him in and in my utterly intoxicated state that’s when I hear it, beeping loud in my ears, my alarm clock. I knew this seemed too good to be a fragment of reality. Grunting noises escape me while I roll around trying to mute the source. The boys must have gotten up earlier or maybe they left the room right after I fell asleep, making sure I get some rest since they know how stressed I was about this whole coffee meet cute and that’s when I felt it. A strange flutter in my lower belly, a tingling but it was nothing of anxiety, it was pure excitement. I jump off the bed to get ready and after a much appreciated pep talk from the guys I was already out the door and on my way to the coffee shop. Namjoon was sweet enough to text me good morning and ask for my order beforehand. We lock eyes as I am crossing the street and I am positive his smile is outshining the sun, thankfully I did not faint in the middle of the street. Deep breath.

“Here you go. Iced latte, medium, double shot espresso with soy milk and one pump of caramel.”

“Sorry for making you memorize the whole thing. I’m a bit particular with what I like. Especially coffee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, I’m no better. Iced Americano, blonde roast, extra ice, extra shot with foam.”

“Are we sure the barista didn’t spit in these cause I think I would if I had to make this order.” My silly remark made him laugh and the flutter in my belly grew stronger.

We started walking, heading towards the park. Conversation with him was smooth, effortless, he seemed to be as invested as I was which was refreshing cause for once I felt like I wasn’t blabbering someone to boredom and every time I took my turn to say anything he would look at me. He gingerly brushed his fingers against mine, weaving them with mine, brushing his thumb softly. I guess for the first time I felt interesting to someone other than Hoseok and Tae. There was nothing we didn’t touch on, from family stuff to career and childhood and lost dreams, there wasn’t a topic off the table. When we got to the unavoidable point of discussing relationships and experiences of that kind I tensed up a bit and unfortunately he picked up on that.

“It’s okay if this is too much for you, we don’t have to…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s better to be upfront with things like this.”

“I agree. Took me a while to come to terms with confronting people and situations.”

“Well, I’m in the same boat you know. I don’t have much experience with dating and I’ve never even been in a relationship. My insecurities plus my anxiety and depression haven’t, how should I put this, they didn’t leave any space for that stuff. Working on my relationship with myself and my mental health seemed more important. Also I never wanted to burden anyone with my issues, it wouldn’t be fair. Society has us believing that through another person we can finally feel whole but, well, it’s nothing but a sugar coated pill. Building a strong and healthy relationship with yourself is a blessing on the long run. To the eyes of others it might seem like I’m behind on that stuff but it doesn’t faze me as much anymore.”

“For the record you are not behind on anything, that’s bullshit. You made your wellbeing a priority and that is admirable to say the least. My last relationship has left me with so much trauma it left me frozen, unable to put myself out there to meet someone else. I wouldn’t even have approached you if it wasn’t for my friends pushing me, I feared that I was damaged goods, sort to say.”

I halt my step, turned to look at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not. I hope you know that you’re not.”

“I know. Now, I know.” His hand cupped my check and I could feel the redness spread as I leaned into his caress. “I hope you know that too.” he continued.

He leaned in, his breath fanning warmth against me, he looked in my eyes, my lips and then back into my eyes, longingly. His plump lips parted letting out a sigh. “I- I really want to kiss you.”

I drew in a sharp breath and answered in a small voice. “Me too.”

His kiss was deep, intoxicating and somewhat controlled cause let’s face it we we’re in the middle of a park. A satisfying grunt escaped me and he did something that I can only describe as a low growl, it was sexy and I could feel the tingling intensify. With both hands on my face, his thumbs tracing patterns on my cheeks, he withdrew his plush lips to lovingly nudge my nose with his.

“I’m so glad we can be together in this moment. Wait, no, that sounds weird. What I meant, what I’m trying to say…”

I take the lead to put him out of his misery. He looked adorable fumbling for the right words.

“Namjoon relax. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

The rest of the walk we joked around and I honestly haven’t let go with another person so soon, he has a way, a warmth that just makes me feel comfortable and most definitely desired and appreciated. Before we parted we set another date for Sunday at the movies and for the first time in forever I felt excited for something. Once we got to my building we kissed one more time and even though I told him to go he waited to see me go up which I wouldn’t have done given the situation I had to witness. The door was open and the apartment was full of people. Squeezing my way in I browse for Hobi and once I spot him in the kitchen I make my way to him and grab him from the arm.

“What’s all this?!”

“We are pregaming before we get to Jungkookie’s party. It’s a last minute situation and I offered to help. You do remember we have Jungkook’s thing today, right?”

“It’s 15:46! And yes, I do remember. Isn’t it a little early for pregaming anyway?”

“Um, not when you have a bunch of art hippies. It’s called a brunch pregame or something like that, who cares. Pancake?” he stuffed it in my mouth before I had a chance to answer. Tae jumped and hugged me from behind, most definitely tipsy, playing with my curls.

“How was coffee with dream man Kim Namjoon?” he asked

“She’ll tell us later when we are not in a sea of strangers.”

“In a word, perfect. I’ll head to my room and get ready.”

In the sanctuary of my room I drop my phone on the desk and head to the shower. A much needed scorching hot shower later and with the date replaying in my head, I sit on my desk to do my makeup. It’s already 19:40 by the time I’m finished and the noise has died down assumingly because everyone has left. I wasn’t all that excited about being among people tonight but I would never skip any of Jungkook and Andy’s parties. I think it’s a new sold out show that we’re celebrating but who cares really it’s just going to end up crazy. Jungkook notoriety for making each meetup an unforgettable event is unbeatable. After last time’s paint war debacle I opted for jeans to be as comfortable as possible.

Half an hour later we’re already parked outside of Jungkook’s house and then Hobi locks us in. Tae was the first one to give him the stank eye and question the sanity of his action.

“What the hell?”

“Tae, I am not gonna make the party if y/n over here doesn’t give us the details of this mornings event. I might actually eat my own hand.”

“Okay, okay, but I’ll fast forward a bit because I don’t want to drag this on. I had a wonderful time with him, he is so sweet and considerate, we talked about everything and anything. Also, we kissed and I cannot wait to go on another date.”

Hobi and Tae couldn’t hide their happiness, so prominent in their expression. They both jumped me to give me the tightest hug possible.

“Baby girl we’re so happy for you.”

“Let’s break this up now and get going Jungkook is waving from the door.”

We get to the door, Jungkook waiting for us, arms open, cigar hanging from his mouth.

“You’re into smoking now?” Tae asked

Much to our surprise he bit down to reveal the molten caramel center. Of course its made of chocolate, he’s a candy nut. We’re all ushered inside, everyone’s scattered here and there in the large common area having conversation over the latest pieces acquired in his personal collection. Among new faces and a few familiar ones I spot a face my memory could never erase, he looks up at the same time, eyes locking with mine and shoots me a wink.

My old crush.

The ever so charming, Kim Seokjin.

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Higurashi Gou Ep7

At first I was just gonna wait until the current arc ended to do another post, but this episode ended up being more interesting than I expected, so now I wanna write about it before we see exactly how this arc ends, lol.

Thoughts under the cut.

Technically the plot of Watadamashi still hasn’t diverged significantly from how Watanagashi went, and it could still end in basically the same way, but this episode still had a whole lot of changes and additions, which are raising a whole lot of new questions I wasn’t really expecting.

For one thing, the Saiguden scene played out pretty similarly to the VN, but with some notable changes. I thought that maybe they’d have Takano bring up her theory about the virus, but her whole explanation of village’s history was pretty much 1:1 with the VN, as far as I remember. But a lot of what was going on in the scene aside from that played out differently, like how Shion accidentally knocked the Oyashiro-sama statue’s head off, revealing that it was apparently already broken in half. We also got a peek at the hidden slot inside the statue, which from what I’ve read is meant to be where a sword is kept.

I don’t think the statue’s ever gotten broken like this in basically any iteration of the story, aside from the detail of Satoko having broken the statue’s arm some time before the story began, so this is a really weird change, and I have no idea what to make of it. I’m guessing that it’s there to set up the idea that someone had already broken into the Saiguden and stolen the sword, while busting open the statue’s head in the process and then putting in back together again afterward.

I know that the sword’s apparently related to Hanyuu and her whole backstory, but other than that I have no real idea about who might have decided to steal it, let alone why they’d do that. For one thing, if someone knew about it in the first place before going to steal it, you’d assume that they’d know a cleaner way to get the sword than just breaking open the statue’s head and then putting it back into place and hoping nobody notices, lol. I guess it’s possible it was designed so that the only way to get the sword out is to straight up break the statue’s head, but I dunno.

I’m guessing that neither Takano or Shion are involved with it, since I’m pretty sure this is probably Takano’s first time being inside the Saiguden [and I still think that she’s a bit of a red herring], and Shion was the one who knocked the statue’s head off, and I doubt she would have done that if she knew it was broken, since that’d just be asking for people to get suspicious of her. So I’m guessing that it’s someone unrelated to all of them who took it.

My best guesses are probably that either Rika or Hanyuu took it, but I’m not sure. They’re at least the first people I assume would know about it in the first place. It sounds like the sort of thing that’s probably a well-kept secret by the Furude family, so it’s hard to imagine anyone else except maybe the other big families in the village knowing about it. Also there’s the fact that Hanyuu only physically manifested in one fragment thus far, and seems distinctly absent from things in Gou, so I think she wouldn’t have been able to get it in the first place, so I’d lean towards guessing that Rika got it.

My main question at this point is if this is something completely unique to the new Gou arcs, or if we just never saw it until now. I’m assuming for now that it’s something new, since we also saw that the statue’s arm wasn’t broken like it was before, which makes me think that the statue itself might be a different one this time around. Or maybe whoever’s in charge of the new game board basically rewrote the part where Satoko got it broken.

Basically it’s one big question mark for me at this point, but they put enough emphasis on it that I think it’s gonna be a big deal later on, lol. 

And on the note of Hanyuu being even less involved in these arcs than she used to be, there were no indications of her being at the Saiguden getting angry at everyone for breaking into it. Which might not be a big deal in and of itself, but it does contribute to the way that Shion ended up seeming way more calm and collected during and after the festival compared to how she was in the VN, while this time around it’s Keiichi who seems to be really getting freaked out by everything.

Then there’s the new mystery of how, at least going by what Shion said later on to Keiichi, apparently Takano and Tomitake stole a staff van from the festival and fled from the village. Which may or may not have something to do with how Takano decided to go back into the Saiguden on her own after the break-in to ‘take some pictures’, which I think is a new addition. It also came across like after she came back, she was going out of her way to try and get Shion and Keiichi to go away, so I wouldn’t be surprised if something she saw in there made her decide to leave then and there.

Though tbh I don’t exactly trust what Shion said about it. For one thing, I’m still not sure if it was even Shion on the phone, or if it was Mion pretending to be her, lol. The whole conversation did kinda come across like it was Mion trying to get Keiichi to confirm what happened at the Saiguden. I know she brought up the idea of the statue being ‘beheaded’, but if anything it’d be weird for Shion to be hung up on that, since Tomitake had pointed out to her that the statue seemed to have already been broken before they got there. 

It’s also worth noting that it’s only Shion at the moment who’s said anything about Takano and Tomitake fleeing in a stolen van. I think Oishi just said that they’d gone missing. We also didn’t hear anything about the idea of them stealing a van to flee the village in Onidamashi, but maybe things just played out differently there.

At the moment I think that either Shion or Mion killed them, and then made up the story about them fleeing the village to cover it up to Keiichi.

I also noticed that Mion asked Keiichi at the festival if he’d seen Shion, Takano, and Tomitake, instead of just Shion, and that she didn’t say anything about it to him at school afterward. Unlike how in the VN Mion just asks him about Shion, and then Shion disguised as Mion asks him the same question at school. So for one thing that makes me wonder if Mion was already suspicious of Takano and Tomitake by that point, and it also makes me wonder if maybe Shion hasn’t started impersonating Mion yet. If anything, I feel like that scene might have basically been replaced by how Shion had that weird phone call with Keiichi where she seemed to mostly be getting him to go over what happened at the Saiguden. So at this point I’m wondering if things are playing out in the opposite direction this time, with Mion impersonating Shion.

If it turns out that Mion is more or less the killer this time around, I still think it’s less to do with the virus, and probably more to do with her acting as the heir to the yakuza. It’s possible that Mion found out about the Saiguden thing, and ended up being forced to get rid of them, for one reason or another.

I know that one of the fundamental rules originally was that the Sonozakis were never actually responsible for anything and just took the blame for stuff, but Gou’s already broken one of the rules by messing with Tomitake and Takano’s fates, so maybe this is a version of events where the Sonozakis are actually involved in this year’s curse.

I’m still kinda wary of the whole idea of Mion ever being the killer in an arc, but I think that’s where this is going at this point. And it’d at least be a bit more interesting than having this arc basically just be Watanagashi but with some minor changes, compared to how differently the last arc played out compared to the VN.

I think that the whole timeline of things after the festival also got quickened a lot, with basically everything happening over the course of just one night, instead of one or two days in the VN. Which might just be a pacing change, but it might imply that what’s going on behind the scenes isn’t actually the same as what was going on in the VN, even though the same things seem to be happening on the surface.

One hole in my theory of Mion being the killer is that I don’t think she has any real reason to kill Kimiyoshi, compared to Shion, but it might have to do with how he was the one that changed the locks on the Saiguden to make it easier to enter.

Then there’s the big scene at the end of the episode where Rika goes full on Bernkastel mode at Keiichi because she’s apparently just given up on this whole loop now that things seem to be heading straight in the direction of Watanagashi’s ending. I don’t think anyone saw that whole scene coming, lol.

I think that maybe Keiichi was just mildly hallucinating and making her seem more creepy and malicious than she was actually being in that scene, but she still seems to be pretty resigned to how this arc’s turning out. I wouldn’t be surprised if she really does just kill herself in the next episode, considering that this whole scenario is one that always seems to end in either torture or suicide for her. I still don’t think she killed herself in Onidamashi, but if she genuinely believes that this is the Watanagashi scenario, then she’d have a pretty good reason for killing herself before she can get tortured to death.

I know people have been wondering if she doesn’t actually realize that Takano’s the villain and never actually died [at least in the original arcs], but I think she was just indirectly referring to how Takano’s body double corpse is usually discovered around this point. What she said about them mostly just makes me think that she’s still assuming that Tomitake dies after the festival, and Takano sets up her body double and goes missing.

It’s still kinda odd to me that she seems so uninterested in actually intervening with events, especially with how pissed off she seems to be in this episode about how things are playing out, but I still think that the whole question of what exactly Rika’s thinking and doing is part of Gou’s long-term mystery.

Her acting so much like Bernkastel in that scene [even though I think that was just her slipping into her ‘normal’ voice] is also making me think more about the whole question of how Featherine and Bernkastel are going to eventually play into Gou’s story, if at all. 

At the moment my theory with them is basically that, after the original events of Higurashi, Rika ended up getting scouted by Featherine in the real world, and commissioned by her to write a novel series based on her experiences in Hinamizawa. And so maybe Gou’s whole story is basically Rika’s fictionalized retelling of the original loops we saw in the VN, and in the process of writing these stories, Rika [or at least a version of her] is basically getting dragged back into the loop without realizing what’s going on. 

It’d at least make the most sense to me if it’s Rika herself who’s basically the game master this time around, since she’s one of the people who knows the most about what happened in Hinamizawa, and Featherine was never really the sort to be directly in charge of things herself. She prefers to just listen to other people read/write stories.

And on a more meta level, I think it’d just be much simpler to have Gou’s story ultimately just loop back to Rika herself, than to introduce entirely new characters just to have a new villain to defeat, or something.

Also, we already saw in Matsuribayashi how Rika basically created a new game board where Takano’s parents didn’t die, after she started to ascend into the meta plane as a witch. So this would basically just be an extension of that.

I also still feel like the only real reason to even bother doing something like this would be to set the stage for an Umineko remake anime, lol. But that’s still probably just me getting my hopes up.

[airagorncharda]

WIP titles

I was tagged by @tejoxys​ ( ｡◕‿◕｡)

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous, and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

I do not have a designated WIP folder so I’m just gonna take this to mean all of my unfinished projects (haha aka, basically all of them, since I am not skilled at the finishing). I know I have a lot more older fics and fragments of original work than this on my other computer but it is, sadly, refusing to turn on (I think it’ll be salvageable, I just have to motivate myself to book it an appointment at the computer doctors), SO I’m only looking at what I already have transferred into google docs. Most of this is at least a couple years old, and--

Oh dear, I’ve gotten VERY boring with naming fics apparently...

Fandom stuff I’d basically forgotten about starting, but still like the writing of and might someday continue: 

“Final fantasy - Promptis”

“Shadowhunters”

“Miraculous”

“Bagginshield”

“Spiderflash”

and simply “Fics”

Within “Fics” is one titled “Vesperia - Flynn and Yuri” that I’d completely forgotten about

Fandom stuff I still like the writing on, but am intending to cannibalize plot pieces and scenes into other stories instead because I no longer feel the desire to write about these characters:

“Drarry WIPs”

“Muggle Studies Gave Them Computers”

Random original stuff I might turn into something someday: 

“Horror Dream - 'The Milk'”

“Original Fairy Tales” 

“Untitled Document” (oh god I’m so sorry lmao)

Original stories I HOPE to turn into something someday:

“Des and Adra”

“The Fog”

Original stuff I’m serious enough about to have entire folders dedicated to:

“Mron - newest doc“

“Mron - Worldbuilding”

“Bobbers Haplyn”

“Bobbers - Cast”

“Bobbi - Notes”

“Quin - newest”

“Quin - notes”

“THE ESTATE quinwouldratherbesleeping”

“worldbuilding quinwouldratherbesleeping”

“OUTLINE quinwouldratherbesleeping”

“November 2018″

“Quin Cast”

“QUESTIONS quinwouldratherbesleeping”

“2021 Quinwouldratherbesleeping doc - reworking it“

And lastly the ongoing constant WIP that is our homebrew DnD campaign, plus all the documents and content from before it WAS a homebrew DnD campaign, back when it was intended to become a video game (or if we couldn’t manage that, maybe a graphic novel or just novel?)

“embalar name list”

“DnD Embalar Arkais”

“DnD Embalar 5e Conversion”

“embalar - villains”

“EMBALAR NOTES”

“Embalar Guide 01″

“Discord convos about worldbuilding”

“Embalar game mechanics details”

“EMBALAR: in order”

“Embalar Gods Doc”

“Embalar - Criminal Justice, crime and punishment in various societies“

“Embalar - elen/elden info (including secrets)“

“Embalar Timeline“

...

I feel like I’ve learned some things about myself from doing this XD

---

I don’t like to tag people because it feels like pressure, but if this sounds fun to you please consider yourself tagged!

[eirenare]

TROS junior novelization: “Stay here. I’ll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise” + some post-TROS era thoughts

I’ve been writing a big ass post compilating all of the “Stay here. I’ll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise” throughout the books up until TROS and analyzing them, and I wanted to wait for my TROS junior novelization to arrive to keep building it and post it but I’m just too excited because THE VOICE IS BACK so I gotta talk at least about this

Some days ago I did a post (which you can check here) talking and speculating about the TROS junior novelization and how it was upon us, and that I could’ve misunderstood the voice in the TLJ junior novelization (I talked about the voice months ago, compiling the parts where it appears in the TLJ junior novelization, here), and funnily, I HAD misunderstood it but at the same time I HADN’T

The reason? Yes, the “Stay here. I’ll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise” was a coping mechanism of Rey... but there was more to it, something I started to suspect again after reading pre-TROS some more times a certain fragment from the TLJ junior novelization where “the voice” and the phrase were mentioned

The TROS junior novelization may look like it has lots of yikes for what I saw on some pages floating around, but look at THIS (analysis below):

“The Force surrounds you, Rey. Feel the Force flowing through you, Rey. Let it lift you. We stand by you, Rey.

Rey, the Force will be with you, always.

There were so many up there—so many stars, so many voices—Rey could not keep track. But there was a light inside her that shone brighter and spoke louder than all the others.

Stay here. I’ll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise.

She looked deep into that light and saw there were two. A binary star. And though the voice that said those words was her own, the love behind them was not.”

Okay, so, first of all: *unholy pterodactyl screeching of excitement*

For what it seems, each voice in the World Between Worlds (because yes, this is the WBW, the descriptions of this scene in the TROS non-junior novelization just leaves no room for doubt: “the battle above disappeared. Instead, Rey saw a perfect sky, vast with stars. Peaceful. Light-filled. It was like she was staring through a window to somewhere else, a place between places.” [...] “More voices came at her fast but gentle, as though she lay at a confluence of the Force, possibilities, futures and pasts all stretching away from her, or maybe leading toward her. The cosmos, time, energy, being—nothing was the way she’d thought it was.” [...] “Presences filled her awareness, some recent, some ancient, some still anchored to the living in a strange way. Rey didn’t understand. But she accepted.”) corresponds with a light... and when Rey peers into a light inside of her which is brighter and louder than all the others, she hears the phrase AND sees the light is A BINARY STAR

... So, a light brighter than the rest—which is fitting with Ben’s description in the TROS non-junior novelization, where it’s said that his light is so bright it helps Rey resist Palpatine’s influence: “Rey continued to approach. His power was intoxicating. She found herself raising her weapon, almost against her will. If not for the other presence in her mind, bright and shining with light, she would not have been able to resist him."

And that light inside her, brighter than the rest, being like a binary star—which fits as well, and only with, Rey and Ben being one in the Force

And apparently the words were hers, but the love behind them was not—so, Ben’s feelings echoing through their Dyad bond (and the WBW? Through both?) across time and space because a Dyad bond (just like the Force) cares not for such boundaries

Also if I remember well (need to find the pic or get a photo myself when the novel arrives), in the TROS junior novelization, when Ben and Rey are circling each other in the hangar of the Star Destroyer (on Kijimi) they’re described like in a way that looks pretty much like a binary star reference

I’ve been basking in all of this for days, even though thinking it’s Ben basically sends me back to the heavy feels lol

I mean, these words Rey repeated to herself for 14-15 years seem to be (it only makes sense to be) echos of Ben (of hope) from the future, and that helped her survive and cope with her own pain and despair... I’m not okay your honor

And there’s just no way it can be anyone else but Ben, given all of this and the contexts. I’ve read comments saying maybe it could refer to her parents or even Luke and Leia, but... it just doesn’t fit? The light is INSIDE Rey, brighter than the rest, and it’s a binary star. It’s simply Rey and another person, and that other person can only be Ben, her soulmate

The best thing is that they actually could use this to bring Ben back to Rey if they wanted, because they didn’t go very deep into the theme of the Dyad AND when the WBW is involved ANYTHING could happen (and it’s not as if these could be the only methods to bring someone back)

To quote the TFA junior novelization: “Rey did not want the owner of the voice to come back. She wanted the speaker to stay.”

Disney/Lucasfilm have a golden opportunity now to either cast the group again for a live-action or animated series, or a movie (or movies), fixing stuff. It’s not gonna make TROS go away nor fix it all, but there’s A LOT of stuff that could end up in a WAY better place than it ended up in TROS, and I’m pretty sure if they pick up some people that know what they’re doing and the premise is good, the cast would want to be back to fix the mess

If they can’t get the cast, just... do an animated series. Or, heck, if it could be done, both would be soooo amazing? (Although I don’t think we’d end up with both, if we end up with something it’ll be one or the other I think) A movie would be ideal to fix stuff, but a series (live-action or animated) would be ideal for something that could go on for a long time with new adventures. DLF could just attract back so many fans (including the new ones, which they should know already are vital to keep a franchise alive) that they’ve pushed away with TROS

I mean, look, if even my lizard brain can come up with viable ideas on how to fix so many mistakes from TROS, DLF certainly can, and there’s people with the talent AND care to do it, so... yeah

We’re getting some WBW mentions (and things that could be hints too) after TROS, other characters have been able to come back from worse and less vague deaths, we still don’t know what a Dyad bond is fully capable of *coughs in suspicions that The High Republic might show some of this and maybe serve as a preamble to Ben’s return*, a good post-TROS fix is absolutely needed, and DLF would make an obscene amount of money if they brought Ben back and did a post-TROS mending a lot of things, so right now I’m proceeding with cauting and keeping my feet on the ground just in case, but my hopes are kinda going up

[hybridequalist]

Thinking Out Loud (Part 3)

So I forgot to cross-post this here. Whoops. Sorry for the long break. Part 4 will be out tomorrow.

Taglist: @nesli26, @manga-crazy, @venomemes, @galleyleelol, @makingtimemine, @jackie-sugarskull, @nightshade7117, @skysthelimit291, @randomshizzles101, @inumorph, @snow-massacre, @phantom-fangirl-stuff, @pixellated-sparks, @vsalamandor2, @otaku-mai, @snarky-badger

---

You knew you were in trouble when you saw Lauren's smug face the next morning. If she didn't make the best breakfasts in the world, you'd have turned around and walked right out.

You managed to avoid looking at her directly long enough to sit at the table and pour yourself some juice, but Lauren picked up your glass and held it out if reach, still grinning.

“Hey there, who was that hunk you rode in with last night?” she signed with one hand.

“Shut up!” you signed back, feeling your face flush. “It's not like that!”

You swiped at your captive juice but Lauren was much taller than you and she smiled down at you.

“Spill,” she challenged, her fingers translating her sass with a flourish.

“It was not a date, we barely know each other and he was just dropping me off. Now juice!”

“Details girl. Details.”

“I didn't have dinner! Let me eat!”

That broke her teasing mood. Lauren finally relinquished the cup and ran to get the hot breakfast off the stove. You felt a slight twinge of guilt as she began to fill your plate more than usual, taking a noticeably smaller portion for herself.

To anyone else, Lauren’s behavior may have just seemed motherly but you knew better. Your psychic eavesdropping had caught more than one memory of Lauren as a disadvantaged teen, hungry and turned away from entry-level work because of her deafness. You knew all about her determination that no one renting from her would lose as much opportunity as she did worrying about when they were going to eat next. No one else could know that, however: your landlady was a well-dressed, modern woman who got her hair dyed some new radical color every other month. Without your power, you wouldn’t know the reason why she invited you to breakfast, that she planned to ensure you had at least one decent meal every single day.

But you feigned your usual innocence as you dug into the delicious food, trying to ignore Lauren’s racing mind as she conjured reasons for why you hadn’t eaten last night and did her best to combat them, holding off judgement until you were able to tell her the full story.

When you finished eating, you gave her the abridged version: that you had met Eddie at work and run into him again at the grocery store yesterday. Glossing over the details of the store being attacked, you chose to omit Venom entirely and instead told Lauren that in the panic you'd been knocked over and hit your head, that Eddie had looked out for you and been kind enough to bring you home when you woke up.

Lauren was a touch suspicious, sensing your editing but uncertain what you were holding back. Still, she shrugged and you recognized the return of her teasing mood and held back a premature weary sigh.

“You know, that Eddie guy sure is nice to look at,” she signed with a grin. “And he's a biker boy. You always did have...interesting taste.”

You flushed violently, hiding your face to block her words.

“Stop!” you signed, going redder as Lauren laughed at you. You heard her making mock kissy noises when your phone suddenly began to ring. You both jumped at the sound and panic instantly set into your chest. Lauren noticed you freeze and came over to your chair, fishing the device out from your pocket. Her eyes widened and you saw her smile.

The image in her brain showed Eddie's caller ID. The ID you'd tiredly assigned him before sending your own name over text.

Hot Mess Eddie

The ringing cut off and a text chimed out almost immediately in its place. Same contact.

You stiffly held your hand out for your phone and Lauren passed it over with a smirk before grabbing your empty plate as an excuse to give you some space.

Hey, sorry to call. I forgot.

Forgot? Forgot the one thing everybody seemed to mark as your defining trait.

Another text.

Reporter instinct. BTW, did you take my helmet last night?

Hemet? Oh, the one you'd been wearing. If your memory was correct…

It's on my coffee table, you replied. Do you need it?

Nah, but you’re gonna need it if you want me to pick you up later. You gonna be up for lunch?

Your pulse quickened and you almost dropped your phone in shock. Was he...asking you out?

I don’t have a shift tonight, so I can stay up. But why do you want to go out to lunch? I’m not exactly a conversationalist.

It took almost a minute before you saw the little ellipse that meant he was writing out a reply.

V wants me to tell you that he’s got a surprise. I still think it’s a bit early, but he’s giving me a headache for arguing. It’s pretty cool tho, gotta admit.

Surprise? What? Why?

You heard Lauren snicker and saw a flash of your own face in her thoughts. Apparently your face was red enough that she could see you blushing from the kitchen and you instinctively turned away, willing the blood to leave your cheeks.

Do you have a place in mind? You typed slowly.

----

You did you best to suppress jitters as you stood at the curb, motorcycle helmet tucked under your arm. You’d requested Lauren stay inside, but you knew she was watching from her window--both to satisfy her curiosity and ensure your safety.

You heard their thoughts before you saw them. Much like actual voices, it started quiet as they entered “hearing” distance but became steadily louder along with the revving of the motorcycle’s engine.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious. You were dressed nicely, but the priority of your outfit was comfort, not fashion. Your hair was also fine, but you began to wonder if maybe you should have done something special with it. This was supposed to be a lunch meetup, but you didn't know what type of venue it would be. Your heart rate picked up and you felt your anxiety starting to raise its vicious head.

You pushed back, trying to force deep breaths, to keep your thoughts under control. Yet the tunnel vision started to set in despite your best efforts. Fragmented thoughts began to whirl like multiple tornadoes and a rising sense of panic began to choke you, cutting off all air. Tears stung your eyes behind closed lids when suddenly you felt two strong hands rest on your shoulders and heard your name, though it was muffled under your roaring pulse.

“Hey! I think you’re having a panic attack! Are you breathing? Can you try breathing?”

The realization that someone was in front of you pulled you out of the whirlpool slightly. It may not have brought the world back from crumbling, but suddenly you felt like there was an anchor keeping you from entirely plummeting into the black hole.Your hands reached out against your will and you found yourself clinging to this person’s chest, hands twisted into what felt like leather.There was no air in your lungs--not that you could feel--and your throat was stubbornly unresponsive to every sound you tried to make. So you reached out with your last resort.

You couldn’t keep the mental communion open for long--your focus was too scattered, your emotions too sweeping--but for a brief moment, you sent a burst of your emotions into the person crouched in front of you. All of your panic, your desire to be comforted, you desperate need to re-learn breathing, you sent it out in an unspoken plea for help.

For a moment, nothing happened. Your anxiety spiked in immediate response; You asked for too much; You would be cast away to fall into the abyss; You were going to die here.

Then you felt the fabric under your fingers ripple, like a living being woven of some strange material, flexing like a cat leaning into human touch. You felt your hands sink into it, giving you a better grip just as you felt thick arms wrap around you, pulling you into the stranger’s solid chest.

A voice rumbled through that chest. You couldn’t understand what they said, but found yourself zeroed in on the sound of their breathing, the feel of their pulse. Their arms tensed and relaxed in time with each breath and you found yourself trying to mimic the movement with limited effectiveness. The vibrations of your anchor’s voice rippled through your body, accompanied by some kind of lower pitch you couldn’t identify. It made you shiver and that motion made you realize that you were quaking so hard that there was no way you could have supported yourself.

Eventually, the panic began to subside into exhaustion; your violent shudders calmed into small fits of shaking and then entirely faded away. Your mind rose from the pit of despair and the sounds of the world and the thoughts of others returned.

The first thing you became aware of was who held you--that double-toned mental voice was entirely unmistakeable.

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Eddie was saying.

“WE HAVE GOT YOU,” Venom corrected and you felt the jacket ripple--or rather, the symbiote disguised as a jacket.

“You just need to keep breathing. As long as you breathe, you can make it.”

You heard footsteps coming from behind you on the pavement and you twisted to see Lauren running from the front door of the complex. She reached you and Eddie and dropped to one knee, looking you over worriedly.

“You good?” she signed. You shakily nodded and tried to pull yourself to your feet. Your knees buckled before you really got anywhere and ended up halfway dangling, clinging to Eddie like a baby koala. He chuckled.

“You think it’s okay if I carry you inside?”

Could he even lift you?

“EDDIE, WE ARE STILL HEALING. DON’T MOVE TOO FAST.”

"I know our limits, Vee. But we gotta make sure she's safe."

You jumped when you felt new hands on your arm, but it was only Lauren trying to get your attention. She repeated Eddie's question in sign and you shakily gave an affirmative.

Eddie's arms were sturdy--no sign of the injury his other half had mentioned--as he carried your tired self back into the apartments. Lauren led him to her apartment and showed him to her bedroom, indicating she wanted me put in her bed. You protested in sign, but she conveniently didn't see your words.

It wasn't until you were laid on the bed that you realized how much your little attack had worn you out. The second your weight left Eddie's arms, your eyes slid shut and you yawned deeply.

"Go ahead and nap," Eddie encouraged. "I'll be out here...if your landlady is okay with it."

You tiredly gave a thumbs up and heard Venom's thoughts call out to you.

"WE WILL KEEP YOU SAFE FROM ANYTHING. EVEN YOUR OWN BRAIN. SO DON'T HESITATE TO CALL OUT FOR US--IN ANY WAY YOU CAN."

You couldn't help but smile as you slipped off into sleep.

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Every day I hate the usa even more than the last

(This is a vent, ignore if u want)

When people were talking about the recent supreme court members death, I thought it would all be fine. I dont know literaly anything about them, and I generally dont understand my own emotions enough to grieve for someone like that.

But I went on instagram

And all the posts made me feel as though I'm being crushed by a mixture of negative emotions I rarely feel like this. Negative emotions so powerful and raw I feel I'm being literally crushed.

I feel as if I'm being literally crushed.

This is especially the worst since I dont understand my own emotions enough to heal from the pain and resolve them and move on from them properly. I'm stuck. These will forever linger, fractions of being healed, ready to crush me another time.

I made a lil angst post thing for Anna of my ABC girls oc's in which she also suffers from the inability to understand her own emotions. But in reality, that's just a fragment reflection of me. Except the details are solidified - a peace of mind I fear I will never have.

Trump is the third president to ever become impeached, and that alone says a fuck ton. He tries to build a wall, that would damage the ecosystem, solve nothing, and waist money. Then he does next to nothing about covid, using China as an escape goat while a ton of other countries handle it all much better than he does. Then the west coast fires get practically ignored. I have a suit case packed just for fucks sake because if theres one thing 2020 taught me, it's that shit can and will get worse REAL fast. I've been living with yellow smokey ash skies for the past few weeks and this morning at 4am, it rained a good rain for the first time long before the fires started. I was excited and happy for it. It even rained recently AGAIN while I was at work. It gave me hope. Hope that has swiftly been crushed.

Even if the fires get solved, the govornment will not. Trump holds his place in office like a tyrant, bragging about fighting for more terms in office than legally possible. Covid is still a thing, no matter how less officials have cranked down on social distancing. Other countries are out there PAYING people to stay inside. But everyone in the states will just complain and shut down that idea because "oh, we dont have the funds for it. The country is in enough debt already" yeah. Why are you building a wall then. Trump has SIGNIFICANTLY raised that debt since he joined office. Why are we letting a man who has his own history or bankruptcy on SEVERAL occasions be president? Our debt should be going down, not up.

The usa likes to preach to high heavens that it's the best country when in fact, its super NOT. And THATS one of the big problems. Much like a racist insisting "I'm not racist, it's just a joke" or something simular, no progress is gonna get made. People just get mad when our poor countries quality gets pointed out and refuse to see the truth. Then they look back over the constitution written over 100 years ago and recite it like the bible for worshiping practice.

We need to rewrite our constitution like MANY other countries have done SEVERAL times, and stop worrying about what a dead person MEANT when PURPOSLY being vague when writing the constitution because it was supposed to be open for change. But nothing about the United states is open for change. This country needs to get off its fucking high horse, and I need to move to canada

Except that's WAY easier said than done. I want to teach high school math, but I'm p sure you need a degree in french to teach ANYWHERE in canada (especially Quebec, but that's on the other side of the country so I think I'm good). I SUCK at learning vocab and had a hard enough time with my 2 years of spanish class. How am I supposed to get a degree in french?

The college I'm attending has study abroad programs I could participate in, and I have considered transferring to a canadian college if mine doesnt become in person soon, but god knows when that's gonna actually become possible again. I want to do in depth research on teaching requirements and scout out schools in canada and talk with my college supervisor and stuff about it all, but theres no point untill covid ends. I would say to just cross that bridge when I come to it, but the land behind me is rapidly disappearing faster than I can aproach the bridge.

Besides, isnt the canadian boarder still closed? What about my job down here? I dont have money to move to canada. And I dont have the confidence to do it because my mom hindered my progress in becoming a fully functioning adult who can leave the house without a backpack full of shit I wont actually need unless I'm roughing it in the wilderness. What college would even accept me and allow me to transfer my current credits anyways?

All I know is the United States of america is a toxic country that is bad for my health, and I am not ok.