#I wanna rip my citizenship.

[moonlayl]

.

.

.

[theputterer]

Good Things In 2021

“It’s that time of year again! Time to remember all the good things that happened in 2021. I’ve done this since 2017, and highly recommend doing this as a fun way to reflect (and to have something for future reference when you are feeling Down.)

y’all. we did it.

I don’t really know how to talk about this year. in many ways it was better than 2020, but in many other ways it was not. This month has been very difficult for my family and me. (If you are curious you can read about what happened here).

But this is about looking at the good things that happened this year.

PERSONAL

I finally received my Irish passport!!! This was the last step of my journey in receiving Irish citizenship and was very exciting. 

I’ve been applying to jobs in Dublin and seen some success. I did receive a job offer I ended up turning down for several reasons, including the pay, what happened earlier this month with my family, and the timeline.

I have an interview for a different job next week I am interested in, so we’ll see how that goes!

I updated my resumé for the first time in three years, that deserves notice.

I returned to the ROGUE ONE life (BRIEFLY) and wrote a new fic called death trembles to take us, a ROGUE ONE-THE OLD GUARD fusion/AU.

a new friend on this here app, @riflegoespurr made a moodboard for it!

and special thanks to @kestrelsward for the early enthusiasm!

I am reasonably pleased with how the fic turned out.

I got a new idea for a secret original writing project that I began some tentative work on. It will remain secret for now.

I had some solid success at work, achieving a few goals I had set and improving systems for the organization. Much of this info will remain REDACTED for privacy purposes but if we are Insta friends you know. (Side note but message me if you wanna be insta friends).

I visited a city in Idaho for Work Purposes and it was nuts. They don’t believe in COVID. scenes.

In May, I went to the ocean on a small solo trip and it was very nice.

I got a couple new tattoos there! Color tattoos of lavender and hydrangea to go on my arm.

A friend of mine got married in July and I got to see it AND act as casual bartender which is hilarious because I rarely drink.

I got jabbed and boosted. Please do this when you can.

Anything bolded below is something I particularly enjoyed and recommend. 

MOVIES

2021 movies I saw and liked:

HOUSE OF GUCCI

I fucking loved this. it’s a riot. Ridley Scott can do whatever he wants forever.

BEING THE RICARDOS

BLACK WIDOW

PASSING

THE HARDER THEY FALL

DUNE

SHANG-CHI AND THE LEGEND OF THE TEN RINGS

FOUR SEASONS TOTAL DOCUMENTARY

LAST NIGHT IN SOHO

MALIGNANT

10/10 NO NOTES

REMINISCENCE

NO TIME TO DIE

“I miss you” RIP ME

GODZILLA VS. KONG

SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME

2020 movies I saw for the first time:

TENET

SHIRLEY

WONDER WOMAN 1984

EMMA.

TV

WANDAVISION

similarly, Leland Philpot on Twitter: “Agatha All Along Trap/Hip Hop Remix”

WESTWORLD

THE WHITE LOTUS

THE OTHER TWO

I’ve started EUPHORIA but I’m not far enough in to render judgment.

Season 15 of IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA

BOOKS

I read 64 books this year. Below are the ones I liked and/or had thoughts on:

“The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue” by V.E. Schwab

“The City We Became” by N.K. Jemisin

“Thirty-Two Words for Field: Lost Words of the Irish Landscape” by Manchán Magan

“Dearly” by Margaret Atwood

“Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath” by Heather Clark

This book is well over 1000 pages but it is brilliantly written and researched

“The Secret Place” by Tana French

“The End of Everything” by Katie Mack

“The Ten Thousand Doors of January” by Alix E. Harrow

“The Trespasser” by Tana French

“The Bluest Eye” by Toni Morrison

“Black Sun” by Rebecca Roanhorse

“Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion” by Jia Tolentino

“The Witch Elm” by Tana French

“W-3″ by Bette Howland

“Girl A” by Abigail Dean

“The Witches Are Coming” by Lindy West

“How Long ‘Till Black Future Month?” by N.K. Jemisin

“Parable of the Sower” by Octavia Butler

“Republic of Shame: Stories from Ireland’s Institutions for ‘Fallen Women���“ by Caelainn Hogan

“The Killing Moon” by N.K. Jemisin

“Sin Eater” by Megan Campisi

“Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty” by Patrick Radden Keefe

RAGE RAGE RAGE

“Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee” by Casey Cep

“Mister Impossible” by Maggie Stiefvater

“His & Hers” by Alice Feeney

“Mirrorland” by Carole Johnstone

“The Midnight Library” by Matt Haig

“Tender Is The Flesh” by Agustina Bazterrica

This book is DEEPLY fucked up but wow.

“A Ghost In The Throat” by Doireann Ní Ghríofa

“The Vanishing Half” by Brit Bennett

“Caul Baby” by Morgan Jerkins

“The Only Good Indians” by Stephen Graham Jones

“Hidden Valley Road: Inside the Mind of an American Family” by Robert Kolker

“Persephone Station” by Stina Leicht

“Folklorn” by Angela Mi Young Hur

EASILY one of my favorites of all time!!!

“The Angel of History” by Carolyn Forché

“The Maidens” by Alex Michaelides

I HATED this book. it’s so bad. it is on here because I have to say that.

“Sorrowland” by Rivers Solomon

“Hummingbird Salamander” by Jeff VanderMeer

“When The Sparrow Falls” by Neil Sharpson

this book rules

“2034: A Novel of the Next World War” by Elliot Ackerman

“The Living Sea of Waking Dreams” by Richard Flanagan

“What Comes After” by JoAnne Tompkins

“The Shadowed Sun” by N.K. Jemisin

With this book, I have officially read every novel or short story in N.K. Jemisin’s published bibliography

“The Last Mona Lisa” by Jonathan Santlofer

“Something New Under the Sun” by Alexandra Kleeman

my very rare Did Not Finish. if you did please talk to me.

“The Doctors Blackwell: How Two Pioneering Sisters Brought Medicine to Women and Women to Medicine” by Janice Nimura

THE BONE SEASON by Samantha Shannon

“The Bone Season”

“The Pale Dreamer”

“The Mime Order”

“The Song Rising”

“The Mask Falling”

LITERALLY WHERE HAVE THESE BOOKS BEEN ALL MY LIFE!!!!! PLEASE READ THEM AND COME TALK TO ME

“Pro: Reclaiming Abortion Rights” by Katha Pollitt

“Shadow and Bone” by Leigh Bardugo

“Constance” by Matthew FitzSimmons

“Goldilocks” by Laura Lam

“Sabriel” by Garth Nix

“The Fourth Island” by Sarah Tolmie

“Klara and the Sun” by Kazuo Ishiguro

“Slaughter-House Five” by Ryan North (graphic novel adaptation!)

“My Heart Is A Chainsaw” by Stephen Graham Jones

MUSIC

Halsey, If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power

Lorde, Solar Power

Olivia Rodrigo, Sour

Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett, Love For Sale

ABBA, Voyage

OTHER GOOD THINGS

Walter Chaw, for Film Freak Central, a review of “No Time To Die” that I found very moving

Joc Pedersen and Harry Styles: Bad Bitches

Steve Buscemi Won Halloween

Bret Stetka for NPR: “How Playing Tetris Tames the Trauma of a Car Crash” 

brains are so fucking weird yo

The Orioles coming in clutch for the Mariners

Dan Odess for The New York Times: “Ancient Human Footprints Push Back Date of Human Arrival In the Americas”

This video of Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain

The saga of the fake high school that played a real game on ESPN

This thread from a man describing what it is like to be in the modern dating game to a new divorcé

I was on the FLOOR

Reeves Wiedeman and Lila Shapiro for New York Magazine: “The Spine Collector”, about a mysterious figure asking for copies of unpublished manuscripts FOR NO APPARENT REASON.

Trea Turner’s magnificent slide home.

Jennifer Senior for The Atlantic: “What 9/11 Did to One Family”. a really devastating, beautiful piece on complicated grief.

Anna Russell, for The New Yorker: “The Beguiling Legacy of ‘Alice in Wonderland’”

Shohei Ohtani’s massive homer. i have never before seen a ball hit the fourth level that far out at Safeco Field.

Dorian Rolston for The New Yorker: “The Trip That Doesn’t End”

Casey Cep for The New Yorker: “Noticing the Mothers of the Old Testament”

Margaret Talbott, for The New Yorker: “The Women Who Want to Be Priests”.

as someone who was raised Catholic and identifies as feminist, this piece was very interesting and illuminating!

Franz Lidz for The New York Times: “She Fell Nearly Two Miles and Walked Away”

This tweet from Mark Harris that still makes me cackle

Ayesha A. Siddiqi, “Sorry for your loss”

Angelica Jade Bastién’s “The Feminine Grotesque” genre list of LetterBoxd. one day I will see them all.

This bonkers play by Javy Báez.

Grown Man Drinks Kool-Aid.

Nora McGreevy for Smithsonian Magazine: “Graves of Enslaved People Discovered on Founding Father’s Delaware Plantation”. (the founding father is John Dickinson).

This guy’s experience getting the vaccine that made me LOLLLL

Simon Levien for The Harvard Crimson: “The Crimson Klan”. Harvard reckoning with its white supremacist ties.

Patrick Freyne, for The Irish Times, eviscerating the British Monarchy via Harry and Meghan’s interview with Oprah

Philippe Sands, for The New Yorker: “Reckoning With a Nazi Father”. the denial and hard legacy for a family with Nazi relatives.

John Matthias, for The New Yorker: “Living With a Visionary”. 

“When I ask her if she is awake, she says she does not know.”

Katie Dowd, for SFGATE: “The story of ‘Drake’s plate’, the biggest hoax in California history”. a romp.

Jen Chaney for Vulture: “No, They Weren’t Dead the Whole Time.” an oral history of the LOST finale that I kind of think was written FOR ME

Kaylyn Hlavaty for Cleveland News 5: “Her ancestors forgotten, a mantel from a slaveholder’s home bears witness to their lives”. a really devastating reminder of how hard it is for Black people to find their ancestors.

et voila. Happy New Year. let’s be kind to each other.

(Raymond Chandler)

go forth and share your good news and be sure to tag me!

c.c. @leaiorganas @fortysevenswrites @magalis @callioope @cassianserso @i-am-slain @riflegoespurr @alecjmarsh @alittlemomentum @earnestfeeling @jaylie12 @thenewyorkreload @moprocrastinates @andorjyny @the-dala​ @sleeplessant​ and anyone else who wants to share!!!

[regrettablewritings]

I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood (love that damn asshole) but if you aren't feeling writing for him then I give this up to authors choice. But from the current ships numbers perhaps: 3 (because I wanna get fucked up), 9 (because I have to), 10 (because I would like to know your thoughts) and 11 (because I am wildly curious)

("I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood" Translation: "I want a daddy to spit in my fuckgng mouth" Sorry, I don't make the rules about language translation.🤷🏽‍♀️)

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope:

You'd always kind of sort of lived in a fairytale. In hindsight, though, you probably had to: It's what probably made being with his stupid ass a bit easier. Kind of like you were living in one of those stories where a monster that terrorized some bucolic tiny town could be brought down to size by a soul of pure heart. Maybe even regain his human form.

If only your story had had a happy ending.

In a way, Nevada felt he was to blame for that; clearly, sticking with you had really only encouraged that type of behavior, or so he thought.

And now look where that ended you: All that gross-ass makeup to make you look like your last moments hadn't been agonizing (the coroner insisted it had been quick, but Nevada called bullshit); those stiff clothes that you never would've worn unless you had to (Nevada never would've put you in them if he had more of a choice); eyes closed, never to see the telltale signs of the one you left behind coming undone (actually, in a sick way, Nevada didn't necessarily mind this; it spared him the humiliation).

There wasn't even necessarily any sign that you had been targeted; the general theory really was that you'd been taken out by a stray bullet. But in some part of him, Nevada couldn't believe that. He didn't want to. It just made so much perfect sense in his mind: You were just minding your own damn business, walking home after a shift ended a little later than expected. You were the very picture of innocent and unsuspecting, all vulnerable and without him. In short: That was the perfect time for some rival gang or some shit to take a shot at you.

And the thought made Nevada's blood boil to the point that it evaporated into the air, further polluting these fucking New York skies with his inner toxicity being exposed. He'd make whoever did this to you choke. But not before roughing them up a lil bit. Maybe cut off some fingers. Some toes . . . Maybe a pound of flesh as payment if there was any time left, who knows.

But first, his men had to find them.

To say that Nevada does not take your passing well would be an understatement. He's somehow more violent. Somehow a lot less tolerant of bullshit (and he already wasn't before). If anyone so much as blinks wrong, they run the risk of having a nearly feral fuck jump at them and attempt to rip their face off.

His men, who already feared and respected him, dare not occupy the same room as him any longer than they have to. They miss you as a person, of course, but they never knew just how much of a hold you had on their boss until that hand was gone.

Sure, he goes through the usual motions seen in others, like sitting in his chair, downing copious amounts of whatever was left in his liquor cabinet. And, of course, there's the stages of grieving: He's eternally stuck oscillating between guilt and anger.

He was supposed to be the one that got killed out here, him! Not you: Sweet, kind, patient, hard-headed, stupid-assed you! He got that, why couldn't God get with the program on that!? He was the dealer, the gang leader putting himself into all kinds of problems with others; you were just some innocent bystander who happened to get caught in his web, decide they liked it there, and inexplicably stuck around.

And now you're dead. He was being selfish, you were being stupid, and now you were dead.

He stares blankly at nothing before humming with a sip of whatever the hell is in his glass now, he doesn't fucking remember. Can't taste it anyway; his sense of taste disappeared, floated away with your spirit the moment he learned of your passing.

The pure-hearted soul that kept the village safe was gone; all that remained was the carnivorous beast, ready to rampage and raze the town to the ground.

9. Which one swears more?:

Just in time for the 20210 Summer Olympics, we have a new category to observe: Fucking Goddamn Cussing Up a Shitstorm! Representing Washington Heights, we have a cussing prodigy, Nevada Ramirez! Also representing Washington Heights by way of duel citizenship between the apartments, we have . . . You!

Okay but in all seriousness, Nevada is definitely the gold medal-winner here. Science indicates that cussing helps to relieve stress and for as collected as Nevada likes to appear in front of others, 5'9" is not a lot of space for stress to go. He's constantly bottling up that shit! What's worse, though, is that the fucker makes it sound elegant.

How does he make "fuck" sound so gentle when it leaves his lips with a cold-eyed glower!? Who the hell knows!

Erstwhile, you're a pretty good runner-up. Even if you were a big cusser before getting with Nevada, you could never catch up with him -- he's just had way too many experiences where he felt the need to pepper the ambience with some cursing. And if you weren't as into it before . . . I'm sorry, boo, but you'll be picking up that nasty habit of his like you were picking up the torch for the Cussing Olympics. Bon chance!

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other:

Noah . . . How did you know I was planning to do a preference on what characters watch with their S/Os? Not that I can confirm or deny that Nevada was in that one but --

Nevada didn't really watch TV a whole lot before you two got together. It was a mix of him not having a lot of time and him not having a lot of care to keep up with anything. Everything is so goddamn serialized, what's even the point?

Really, the only reason he bought subscriptions to streaming services was to keep you entertained for when he had to be out the house or some junk. But there were a few too many times where he'd come home late and find you curled up on the couch.

". . . The hell're you still doing up --"

"Ssh!"

". . . Did you just --"

"Yes, now sshhh! I'm about to see who this chick picks to go to bed with."

Of course, 'Vada is pissed; people don't shush him, he shushes them! What the fuck could be so interesting that you'd do that!? He takes his glare from you to the screen . . . and about thirty minutes in, he gets it. He'd never say it out loud, but deep down, he knows why you like Love Island. It's stupid, it's trashy, he hates these dumbass twenty-somethings making drama out of nothing, and for fuck's sake will somebody talk to the girl with the dark skin and short hair she's the hottest one there --

Of course, he tries hard not to show his interest, taking seats next to you when you're watching "because he's tired", adding his own commentary "because these pendejos need to know better", etc. And, of course, it doesn't fool you in the slightest. As amused as you are, though, you don't tease him about it; you're afraid that if you do, your stubborn boyfriend would put up a fight in the form of leaving you to watch your silly little show by yourself. And you really don't mind sharing the show with him . . . No, solitary watching is reserved for your cartoons.

Nevada may let things with you slip to a point but the moment he learns you like to watch anything animated, he's on your ass with the ruthless taunting. Which is like the pot calling the kettle black because 'Vada's secret pleasure is even worse: daytime soap operas. Admittedly, there's some sentimentality connected to them (he remembers being at his Abuela's house and seeing her get really into some telenovelas), but the fact of the matter is really more that he's invested in the drama and bullshit going on between all this lunatics who we're supposed to buy as being doctors or CEOs or whatever over-glamorized positions they're supposed to have.

He doesn't actually get to watch them often but . . . hey, that's what he pays certain grunts to do for him.

Okay I had way too much fun writing these so lemme just cut myself off now. Thanks for asking!!!

[hermits-that-craft]

Love Run, The Song You Know's Begun.

"Though some would harm you, none - not one - no none Would raise to you a hand nor thumb Not while by you I stand and hum" - The Amazing Devil, Love Run Reprise --- The afterlife. Choices. Broken Promises.

Cross posted on ao3. Link in reblog

He wakes up in a meadow, surrounded by lilies, marigolds, poppies and white carnations. He blinks slowly, looking up at the sky. It’s synthetic. Perfectly painted. The sky is a beautiful baby blue, and he can see the paint strokes in the clouds.

He isn’t angry though. He can’t find it in himself to be angry. He hardly remembers who he is.

Where he is.

He stands, running his hand through his hair. He’s wearing a long sleeved white shirt, with a red collar and arms. His pants are beige, pockets filled with rocks and faded photos. His heart yearns, but he doesn’t move, the flowers growing through his feet and anchoring him to the meadow. Blood pools at his feet, runs in front of his eyes. His skin is littered black and blue.

But he isn’t in pain.

He can’t move.

“You have a choice” The universe whispers to him, gently in the breeze. “You can go back, or you can move forward. You were ripped from that world too soon.”

It’s regret, what's on her voice. At least, thats what he thinks it is.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” He asks her. “What’s my name? Why am I bleeding?”

“You have a choice,” The universe reiterates. “You can go back, or you can move forward. I cannot tell you about your past. I will not tell you of your future. This choice is entirely yours.”

“How will I know?”

“You will feel it. You will feel the pull towards one option or another.”

“What if,” He pauses, uncertain. “What if I don’t want to choose?”

“Then you will be split between both. Half will move forward. Half will go back.” The universe seems to want to say something, as though she believes that she is leaving something out that is important.

“Can I stay here?” His voice is small, uncertain. “I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want to be an adult anymore.”

A woman appears in the meadow. Her dark, shoulder length hair flows gently in the breeze, golden cloak swaying with the grass. She wears a black, sleeveless top and black cargo pants, alongside leather boots. She turns to him, and her eyes look like the stars. She isn’t Clara - the emptiness of the void does not exist here - but he knows her.

He’s seen her in the photos on someone’s walls. Heard about her in another’s tales. Felt her in a person’s embrace.

She is the universe.

She is Kristen.

She walks to him silently, tears welling in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug. It’s warm, the warmth he craved from before, but not dangerously so. He isn’t cold anymore. She holds him as he breaks. He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know what he left behind. He doesn’t know where he is or what he is. But he knows her.

“I can’t keep you here.” She whispers to him. “My boy, my son, how I wish I could. Someone awaits you on both sides. You should go to one of them.”

“But what about you?”

“I will join you when the last member of our family joins you.”

“Mum-”

“You have to decide, now.” She pulls away from him, and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Where will you go?”

“I can’t. Both?” He watches her with sad eyes. “Will I remember both?”

“When half of you decides to move forward, then you will remember what the half that moved back will remember.”

“Then both.” He says, and Kristen - the universe - smiles at him. She is kind.

“Go back to sleep. When you wake up, all will be well.”

----

Ghostinnit wakes in his dirt house, floating just off of the bed. He sits, confused. What does he remember?

“TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIP-” “Let’s be the bad guys, Tommy.” “I don’t give a FUCK about spirit.” “Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens” “Sorry doesn’t cut it. “The only universal language is violence.” “Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be.” “I wanna see WHITE FLAGS!” “We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.” “He would drop us at the SECOND he realised we’re not in the lead anymore.” “Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” “L’Manburg can be independent, but L’Manburg can’t be FREE.” “The most logical thing to do. For Tommy to be… Exiled. From L’Manburg.”

Oh.

So that’s what he remembers.

Ghostinnit doesn’t know who he can trust. He remembers dying, painful, slow and full of fear, but he doesn’t remember much from between doomsday and death. Perhaps he was happy? Or at least, not scared? He shouldn’t trust anyone, just in case.

Ghostinnit floats out of his house, ‘walking’ towards Eret’s castle. As much as Tommy wants to hate the king for betraying L’Manburg, Tommy remembers seeing Eret fight alongside him during doomsday. Go head to head with Dream and Techno and Philza. The admin and Tommy’s family. Eret fought to help him. So Tommy should be able to at least forgive the king, or steal from him.

He’ll make up his mind on the way there.

Ghostinnit floats, not paying much attention to his surroundings, until he stops. He’s not sure what made him stop, but he looks at the flower garden that grows around Eret’s base. Wild poppies grow on the lawn, and Tommy sits down, picking them. He doesn’t know what possess him to make the flower crown, but it doesn’t feel right until he stops.

A flower crown made of poppies.

A crown of blood.

Tommy holds the flower crown gently, taking great care not to bend it wrong. He floats into the grand castle, wandering until he hears a shout.

“He’s gone, Tubbo!” It’s Jack, his mind happily supplies. He has a few bad memories of the man, he recognises the shout, but he doesn’t have any recent memories of him, so he surely could trust Jack! “He’s gone and the server is thriving!”

“How could you be so heartless!” Tubbo screams, and Ghostinnit floats over to the doorway. Niki and Jack stand to one side, idly watching as Eret holds Tubbo back. Ghostinnit’s friend (ex-friend? They did have a falling out) is struggling against Eret’s grip, screaming and thrashing. Phil and Techno are there, both glaring at Jack and Niki. Tommy doesn’t understand it.

A casket lies on a pedestal, the L’Manburg flag draped over it. A soldier's burial, for Wilbur perhaps. Tommy knows that getting his body from the prison would be a hassall. One that those who hate him wouldn’t go through, even if those people were his father and brother. Sam and a sheep woman stand guard over it, though their eyes are clouded with pain. Quackity and Sapnap weap, Karl holding onto them protectively. Perhaps not Wilbur’s funeral then, he doesn’t remember Wilbur being close to either of the two, though he might have become close in the happy memories.

“What's wrong?” Ghostinnit asks quietly, floating into the room. The crowd looks at him, and Ghostinnit wants to curl up in the air. There are too many people looking at him, they’re angry, they’re going to kill him-

“Tommy?” The sheep woman’s voice breaks, and somewhere in his mind he digs up a name. Puffy. “Oh Void-”

“You’re Puffy, right?” His voice is small. “I don’t have any memories of you, so you must have been a good memory.”

“What?” Eret chokes out. “I thought-”

“I only have bad memories. I guess the universe wanted me to make better memories.” Ghostinnit shrugs, though he can’t quite make the panic subside. He wishes everyone would just look away-

“You look like shit.” Jack says, glaring at him.

“Well, I was beaten to death by my abuser.” Ghostinnit shoots back, though he floats back from the man. Something is off about him. He doesn’t seem quite right. “And I’m sorry for not exactly having enough time to look at myself. I wanted to come see Eret. Who’s funeral is this?”

“It’s yours.” Sam says, bowing his head. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry-”

“You didn’t kill me.” Ghostinnit says. “You did what you had to do.”

“We’ll bring you back.” Tubbo says, his eyes full of promises he can’t keep. “I don’t care what we have to do. What deals we have to make.”

“Don’t.” Ghostinnit shakes his head. “The revive book isn’t real. I don’t want to come back. I’m only here because I’m waiting.”

“For what?” Techno asks, and Quackity glares at Ghostinnit’s older brother, who ignores Tubbo’s wails. “What are you waiting for?”

“Whoever Kristen says she’s waiting for.” Ghostinnit shrugs. “Then I’ll go back to the meadow.”

And with that, Ghostinnit turns to leave. He’ll talk to Eret after the ceremony. After his funeral. After all, he doesn’t want to watch as his father and brother’s faces fall with the memory of his mother. He doesn’t want to listen to Tubbo and Puffy’s wails. He just wants to let Eret know that he was forgiven. He places the flower crown on a table underneath a mirror, somehow having made his way into one of Eret’s bathrooms.

He sees his reflection in the mirror, and stares at it in shock. The black eye that he was given as he was beaten to death is no more, instead replaced with a bouquet of forget-me-nots. In fact, all of his bruises are the small, blue flowers. The blood that fell from the side of his mouth and his nose is gone, replaced by a poppy. He wears a red sweater, not unlike Ghostbur’s yellow one, or Glatt’s blue one, and his skin is grey.

His eyes are blue though, not whited out like he imagined. Pure blue, no glowing white or void like black. A bright, sky blue.

He smiles, and poppy petals fall from his lips.

---

Tommy hops off the train that left the meadow, a bag over his back. He’s wearing his normal clothes, and the injuries he once sustained are gone. He feels solid, but also not solid. Scared, but not. He remembers everything, and somehow nothing.

He doesn’t know which stop to hop off at, so he doesn’t. He watches as others hop off at different stops, ghosts going to worlds. Perhaps to be reborn, perhaps to meet the afterlife. Maybe even to become a member of someone’s chat.

The train stops, and he’s the only one on his carriage. The end of the line.

Tommy gets off, worry in his gut. What if he doesn’t see Wilbur here? What if Wilbur hopped off at another stop. What if Wilbur doesn’t want to see him?

What if he does see Wilbur?

Tommy looks around the station, hugging himself as he tries to find a familiar face. Maybe Schlatt will be there, maybe not. He’d take anyone , at this point.

He’s the only person who hops off at this station.

“Tommy?” It’s Wilbur’s voice that pulls him out of his frantic searching. “You’re not supposed to be here, the void wasn’t preparing for you. Why are you here?”

Tommy turns, and sees his brother. Still in his Pogtopia coat, but cleaner. Warmer. Tears pool in Tommy’s eyes, and he runs to his brother, getting pulled into a hug. He’s with Wilbur again. He’s nearly home .

“Who hurt you, Toms?” Wilbur sounds choked up, upset. “Why are you here?”

“Dream.” Tommy says quietly. “He beat me to death.”

“I’ll kill him.” Wilbur swears, and Tommy laughs wetly.

“Don’t. I promised that I’d see you soon.” Tommy pulls out of Wilbur’s hug, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go home, I’m tired of being an adult. Let’s be a family again.”

“I’m not supposed to see you for another fifty years.” Wilbur accepts the hand Tommy offers him, smiling sorrowfully. “But I’m glad you hopped off the train here.”

“I wouldn’t have hopped off anywhere else. Too much pull to here.”

They both walk out of the station, hand in hand. Tommy sees the outline of Schlatt and Mexican Dream in the distance, and he knows that his family will come through, sooner or later. He’ll see them around, but for now he’ll spend time with his older brother and his friends.

He has an eternity to spend with everyone else, when they arrive.

[hoziergf]

i was tagged by my bby @moncheriestyles 💞 thank you!!!

name/nickname: my name is aya!

gender: i mean mean gender do be a social construct but i’d say female, my pronouns are she/her

star sign: aries sun! (pisces moon and libra rising i swear it makes so much sense)

height: 163 cm but i always wear shoes w height so maybe a lil taller

time: 4:44 pm

bday: march 23rd!!!

favorite bands: arctic monkeys, one direction (we’re on month 64 of their 18 month hiatus), the 1975, the wonder years, fob, fleetwood mac,

favorite solo artists: harry styles, zayn, hozier, sza, frank ocean, the weeknd, does debussy count 😭

song stuck in my head: gold rush by taylor swift

last movie: omfg last night i watched an evening with beverly luff linn and i still don’t get it

last show: criminal minds 😌💞

when did i create this blog: baby i went to the archives for this- February 15th, 2014.

what do a post: i literally don’t make too many posts on here anymore 🥺😭 but literally whatever is on my mind and harry and one direction

last thing i googled: oh god “gucci gg pattern silk tie red vintage” i have my reasons

other blogs: @reidtheprettyboy !! my cm side blog heehee

do i get asks: not all too often but i get the occasional weird anon one or moot 💞

why i chose my url: god it was 2014 why did we do anything back then

following: 182

followers: 😳 1,464

average hours of sleep: 5-10

lucky number: i don’t have one idk 🥺

instrument: i’m learning the guitar!!

what am i wearing: wouldn’t you like to know 🙄 jk a brown turtleneck and some black ripped skinny jeans

dream job: personally i don’t dream of working but i guess being a nurse practitioner

dream trip: morocco 🥺

nationality: american (tho i can apply for moroccan citizenship)

favorite song: right now? i’d say tightrope by zayn! ever? idk too much pressure

last book i read: Pharmacology: A Patient-Centered Nursing Process Approach 🙄

i’m tagging anyone who sees this on their dash who wants to do it 🥺🥺 love you cuties

also some moots (feel no pressure to actually do it! i just wanna get to know y’all a little better 🥺💞) @flklrevrmre @nationalharryleague @joodeduarte @harrystylescherry @afinedline @summerygubler @honeybunchcalum @rosesonmyheart

[crassussativum]

Day 28: Doubt

Sentinel: Estate of the Primarch, Palaven

He’d been on his way to a real freak out before Crassus had shown up to be with him. Mavic hated getting shot, it was the whole reason he’d transferred right out of the field the first time it had happened. That it fucking hurt went without saying, that almost dying had terrified him was right up there too, that he just didn’t want to be in a position to have to pull a gun on anyone was on the list. But yesterday in the city with the twins... It had almost been instinct, what he’d done to protect them.

Mavic glanced up at Crassus as they both got out of the car, as the bigger turian came around it and put an arm across his shoulders to guide him inside. He leaned in against Crass’ side, hid his face a moment in his warm chest. Yeah, he’d have lost it if Crass hadn’t come to rescue him from all the fear and shit last night. He felt a little like he would lose it now as they headed up to meet with the Primarch. Who would never let him go off with the children again without a real guard, he was sure. Who was probably going to fire him and have him stripped of every benefit in his citizenship tier. He fucking would if it was his kids.

Crassus left him outside the big ornate door. Mavic would have liked him to come in and face the Primarch with him, he felt so much better with Crass at his side, but... Yeah, this was something he had to do himself.

The Primarch sat at his desk looking just as haggard as he had the day before, his mandibles hanging loose and his gaze less than the usual intense. Mavic scratched at one of the bandages under his shirt. Same shirt as yesterday, blood stained and ripped. 

“Sir,” He cleared his throat. “I’m er, back. Back from the hospital, I mean. I knew you’d probably wanna see me.”

The Primarch turned to face him. “Mavic, how are you?”

He shrugged. “Don’t wanna complain, but could be better, y’know? How’s... how’s the princes? They okay?” By the Spirits he hoped they were okay.

The Primarch’s mandibles shifted. “Marcian is still quite shaken.” He said at length. “Cicero fell from the tree you stashed them in. He fractured his arm.”

Mavic hissed and immediately dunked his head low, too ashamed to meet the Primarch’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir. I... Hidin’ them there seemed... it seemed like a good idea. And when those fuckers came sniffin’ ‘round, they didn’t think to look up. I... I thought it was a good spot.”

“It was a good spot. It took Sec a while to find them even when things had calmed down.” He made a sound Mavic couldn’t identify. “And then even longer to break the barrier you put around them.”

The kinetic barrier. Mavic rubbed absently at one of his arms. “That’s one of dad’s old prototypes.” He muttered quietly, it wasn’t important and the Primarch probably didn’t care when Mavic had left his children alone with gunfire all around. “I’ve been workin’ on it. Kinda surprised Sec was able to crack it.” 

“Not easily and not without injury to one of their officers.”

He winced again. “Dad was... fond of electric shock protocols. It’s er, effective.”

“It was.”

“I keyed the boys in so it wouldn’t shock them but I did dial up the voltage so that anyone else messin’ with it would...” Mavic said to his feet.  “...is the officer okay?”

“He’ll be fine.” The Primarch told him.

Mavic nodded his head a few times, relieved, but that still left the larger issue at hand. “Sir I...” Fuck. He had to clear his throat again. 

“There’s no need to explain yourself, Mavic.”

“I’m feelin’ like there really is.” He dared to look up. “I’d never intentionally put your boys in harm’s way, Sir. I’d’ve left them with my gun if I’d thought they knew how to use it safely, but them fuckers were gettin’ closer and closer to where we’d hidden and I had to draw them off. I had to. I figured if I got taken out, they’d have my omnitool with its barrier but they’d be safe and y’all find them. So I-”

The Primarch held up a hand to stop him, mandibles tight along his jaw and his expression closed. “I know exactly what you did, Mavic. You hid my children in a hard to reach area. You left them protected behind a kinetic barrier that even Palaven police struggled to to remove. You drew the gunmen away. At great risk to yourself you protected my children and everyone else in the Temple grounds.” 

Mavic blinked at him. “I reckon... I reckon that is what I did, Sir.”

“It’s exactly what you did, Sentinel Virim.” 

[lethalwizard]

10, 14, 39, 56, 74, 88 and 94 <3 have fun!

i just FINISHED writing an essay i dont need ANOTHER (kidding i love u)

10. how would you describe your style? bro i dont even know, i GUESS what the kids these days would call alt? if im getting that Fashion Word right? but i also like a vintage kinda look so alt but make it fruity (honourary)?

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? mang all i want in life is a cute little apartment with lots of plants and maybe also a cat. but also probably france, given the whole Speaking French Thing @ scotland can u secede from the UK already i want my EU citizenship back

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? aside from the archeological artifact ellie that only u use (fond) anymore, not really my name doesnt really lend to nicknames well

59. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? i like the aesthetic of living in a cottage away from civilisation but itd probably kill me dnajdnjs so suburbs 

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial? there is exactly 0 romance in my life atm except for the very one sided relationship between me and MC. i tried bumble for like 3 days a few weeks ago and almost perished and i dont have a social life so rip to me ever being in a relationship again

88. do you like it when people play with your hair? YES but people never do so i will never be truly happy

94. favorite lyrics right now my most played spotify song was beautiful faces - declan mckenna, of which the line ‘beautiful people won’t remember you, honey’  always hit me hard. like if im in a bad bitch mood IM the beautiful people but if im the sad bitch mood no ones gonna remember me u kno u kno u kno  but also im in love with ‘mother natures dying, nobody’s keeping score / i don’t wanna live in a man’s word anymore’  from mans world by MARINA

[dratsing]

mini-reviews of superhero media i am shovelling into my gaping maw because that’s how i get through the fucking holidays 

Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse (movie)

11/10, animated film of the year, yes the hype is real, donate to miles morales web fluid gofundme now. hits that sweet center of bomb aesthetics, sweet jams, and representing every spidey with love and care and wonder.   

Heroes of The Boxed Circle (fanfic by mithen)

The novel-length superbat wrestling au you never knew you needed. Written by someone who really knows their wrestling lore, gets into the world of heels and babyfaces through cape personas. The romance is real good too.  

Once Upon A Deadpool (movie)

The Fred Savage stuff was fun. Didn’t tone down as much expected. Added more Negasonic/Yukio, but I lowkey see why they were shaved off the final cut, DP2 was way tighter without em. After-after-after-credit is A+. 

Iron Man, Iron Man 2, Ant-Man, Doctor Strange, Guardians of the Galaxy 2, Spider-Man: Homecoming (a shit ton of movies)

I stumbled into a livestream where these played back-to-back, so they all feel like a singular experience. Can I describe what any one movie was like? No. But I think I qualify for American citizenship now.

Venom (a cinematic experience)

I’ve watched this three fucking times. First time, in the cinema; second time, a torrent of a Russian theatre rip where a dude’s silhouette would bob every 20 minutes; third time, I came out of a blackout with pad thai on my pillow and it was playing on my laptop. Every viewing has been a spiritual reading. God is revealing himself in Tom Hardy’s misery. Dan, Michelle Williams’ boyfriend, becomes more angelic. I normally cringe when I see media industry humans in fiction, but Eddie Brock somehow affording a one-bedroom apartment on a fired journalist’s salary is too fucking funny to feel any ways about. 

Titans (tv series)

Three episodes in, so this is incomplete/unfair: I fucking hate the writing of this show. The casting and soundtrack? STELLAR. Action? We getting it. Hell, it’s been fun playing “spot turrono filming locations.” But the shitty writing is fouling how much I can like it. I wish I could suspend my disbelief for the storyline, but the direction it takes and its dick (grayson) fixation flies in the face of better plot. The only reasons I’m still on it: this VPNed DC Universe trial ain’t gonna watch itself, KORI, Raven and Beast Boy are cute, I wanna see Doom Patrol’s zany bullshit before giving up completely.

Die Hard (movie)

Not superhero-related, but I saw it for the first time and WHY DIDN’T HE PUT ON SHOES. WHY DIDN’T HE PUT ON SHOES. WHY DIDN’T HE PUT ON SHOES.

[tomshufflepuff]

you literally said that someone calling someone else conservative is an insult. and you get so riled up when I call your beliefs a mental problem. most liberals tend to be hypocritical snowflakes. Trump has done more in his short time as president than Obama did in his 2 terms.

okay and? Lmao I didn’t say it was a mental disorder. It can be an insult in my opinion if it’s by match the actual 100% conservative that don’t believe in equal rights for everyone (don’t fight me on this lmao most conservatives don’t like the LGBTQ community and are very traditional and don’t support women’s rights). I got all “riled” up because what you said is bullshit and disgusting. And nah you’re not right about Trump doing more. If you mean saying more offensive things then yes you are correct. Sorry I don’t know how you can support someone who calls Africa a “shithole country” and insults the CONTINENT’s people, but welcomed white immigrants from Norway? (His wife is an immigrant and doesn’t have US citizenship just an fyi) and someone who categorizes Mexicans as rapists and blaming them for the drug and job problems in this country.Let’s look at what good things Obama did:1) He rescued the country from the Great Recession, cutting the unemployment rate from 10% to 4.7% in 6 years2) He signed the Affordable Care Act which provides health insurance to over 20 million uninsured Americans3) Ordered for the capture and killing of Osama Bin Laden4) Passed the $787 billion America Recovery and Reinvestment Act to spur economic growth during the Great Recession5) Supported the LGBT community’s fight for marriage equality7) Commuted the sentences of nearly 1200 drug offenders to reverse “unjust and outdated prison sentences”8) Saved the U.S. auto industry9) Helped put the U.S. ontrack for energy independence by 202010) Began the drawdown of troops in Afghanistan 11) Signed the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals allowing as many as 5 million people living in the U.S. illegally to avoid deportation and receive work permits12) Signed the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act to re-regulate the financial sector13) Dropped the veteran homeless rate by 50 percent14) Reversed Bush-era torture policies15) Began the process of normalizing relations with Cuba16) Increased Department of Veteran Affairs funding17) Signed the Credit Card Accountability, Responsibility, and Disclosure Act18) Boosted fuel efficiency standards for cars19) Improved school nutrition with the Healthy Hunger-Free Kids Act20) Repealed the military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy (which is honestly one of my favorite things he’s done)21) Signed the Hate Crimes Prevention Act, making it a federal crime to assault anyone based on sexual or gender identification (something our country desperately needed)22) Helped negotiate the landmark Iran Nuclear Deal23) He signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act to combat pay discrimination against women (he a feminist lmao don’t fight me. Another thing he did that’s one of my favorites)24) Nominated Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court, making her the first Hispanic ever to serve as a justice25) Supported veterans through a $78 billion tuition assistance GI bill26) Won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009 “for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples”27) Launched My Brother’s Keeper, a White House initiative designed to help young minorities achieve their full potential (again, he believes in equality FOR ALL)28) Expanded embryonic stem cell research leading to groundbreaking work in areas including spinal injury treatment and cancersooooo should I go on orrrrr 🤷‍♀️🤔And the things Trump has done for this country can be debated on if it’s actually good.He wants to be allies with Russian and North Korea. North Korea has gone back on MANY promises in the past to not attack using military weapons. Russia, well Putin was a spy and now he’s president and he’s involved with multiple dangerous people.He pulled out on the Paris Climate convention which says the US will not be participating with other major countries in trying to stop global warming. Oh and he said global warming isn’t real.He said his inauguration crowd was larger than Obama’s (lmao it wasn’t.)He accused Obama of wiretapping him, which Obama never did.He kinda confessed on Twitter that that Trump tower meeting with DJ jr. was to get “dirt” on Hilary. Keep in mind that he lied about it many times. He supports Roseanne Barr who is a known anti Jewish and a racist.He called Mexicans, “rapists” and said they were bringing drugs and crime into this country. Not knowing that there’s more white American citizens who have been prosecuted for rape. He blames immigrants on everything, including “stealing jobs”. No okay lmao first of all, no one is “stealing” any jobs. The employer is often going to hire the employee who is a better worker. So stop complaining like a little bitch saying a Mexican stoke your job and start working on becoming a harder and better worker. Plus another reason why more immigrants are being hired is because a lot of them don’t have much money after coming here from Mexico. And they are willing to work for anything to be able to have enough money to provide for their families. The American employer sees that and doesn’t give them a fare pay because they know the immigrant will work for anything. So they take advantage and lower the pay for that employee so they can keep the money for themselves.He also body shames women and treats them as if they were objects. He hates NATO because okay lesson time, NATO was put together because of the Soviet Union’s (Russia) rose to power during the Cold War and were taking over many nearby cities and torturing people. So some countries in Europe and and the Americas established NATO as an alliance to fight against the Soviet if they ever rise to power like that again. And you know why Trump pulled out of it? Because he’s friends with Putin and doesn’t want to be in an alliance against him.He also wants DACA gone because it protects immigrants. Not knowing that you can’t get a DACA if you have a criminal record of any kind.Says he loves all of the dreamers yet he’s very racist and unfair to the majority of the dreamers in this country (Latinos and Latinas).Promotes a “Space Force” lmao what even is that the next Star Wars movie.He wants abortion and birth control gone and his excuses is because of his religion (along with Mike Pence) and they wanna get rid of Planned Parenthood just because they give abortions. Planned Parenthood does get government funding, but that funding does not go to abortions, just basic medical help to new moms. My mom went to planned parenthood, she obviously didn’t get an abortion 😂And recently, Trump locks children in actual cages in support of Jeff Session’s “no tolerance policy” saying that if you come into this country illegally, they’re gonna rip your children away from you. Not only that, but they didn’t even bother to keep track of children in any way and many children are still separated from their parents. And Sessions quotes a bible verse while speaking about the policy. Yet Trump supporters who call themselves Christians ignore this one bible verse, “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself for you were foreigners in Egypt. For I am the LORD your GOD.” Hmmmm 🤔Also, there’s this thing called Separation of Church and State that was mentioned by one of the founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson, going into detail about the First Amendment in the Establishment Clause and Free Exercise of the First Amendment. So he really shouldn’t use a bible verse to back up his shit. Along with Pence and Trump using their religious beliefs to cancel abortions.

But I do not agree with everything Obama did. He did do some, well not so good, well bad things too. So I do acknowledge that Obama isn’t all perfect. And I’m pointing out a lot of bad things Trump has done because those are the major key points. He hasn’t really done anything good for this country, or our allies. And he’s not a good leader by being racist and sexist.

[killawayfanboys]

I FEEL SO MUCH ANGUISH RIGHT NOW!

In a delirious and drunken manner I fell asleep while thinking about one of my wip. AND NOTHING IS WRITTEN DOWN. I WANNA SCREAM.

Good thing about this is I've worked out some canon and lore to work with.

I think I spent like 4 or 5 hours just trying to get comfortable enough to sleep while thinking about this trying to lull myself to not awake. This is a HP project btw so expect that.

My oc and Theodore Nott are in a relationship for about 2 ish years, starting at the end of book 3 to about the end of book 5. By book 6 they're no longer together due to Theo becoming a Death Eater and my oc joining the Order. They both know this about one another and it makes their conversations awkward.

My oc knows when Draco is attacked by Harry and instinctively comes to his aid. Showing up at the same time Snape does, and in a fit my oc almost tears Harry's throat out. After calming down a bit, my oc demands that Snape teach him the spells he created, specifically the counter curses.

My OC's patronus is a large Dragon.

Sirius Black doesn't die in book 5 here, because my oc nearly rips Bellatrix in half, getting himself nearby killed in the process.

At the beginning of book 4 Theodore sends a quick and vague letter to my oc about not going to the Quidditch world cup. Not that he was planning on going anyways, but it didn't help the sinking feeling he got when he read about what happened the next day.

My oc didn't know Cedric Diggory very well, but my oc is known as the best person to go to about Magical Creatures in the entire school. So Cedric comes to him for help on his tasks. After Cedric's death a small memorial is etched into the wall next to the Hufflepuff commons. Something My oc passes on a daily basis to get to the Slytherin commons, and each time he pauses just for a few moments. It reads: "The boy who sacrificed his own life to save another. A beloved son and friend."

The moment my oc realizes that his and Theodore's relationship has no future is when towards the middle of book 5, the two spend the night talking about their plans after Hogwarts. Theo wants a job in the Ministry, a place where his words have sway in the lives and citizenship of Magical People, like werewolves and Vampires. Where my oc, he wants to continue his work with Magical creatures and act as a ambassador to others like him (he's a werewolf). That night my oc falls deeper in love with Theodore Nott, but also realizes that in theory they two could never be happy with one another once adults. The next day they break up mutually.

Being estranged from his father, Remus Lupin makes joining the Order all the more weird. He's treated equally as a student and son, yet its awkward and tense between them. And when he learns he going to have a baby half brother he's not sure how to feel. When both Tonks and Remus die, he takes partial custody of baby Teddy, the other part is with Tonk's mother.

He's one of the few Slytherin's that joins Dumbledore's army in book 5, which eases the school's overall fear of him being a werewolf. He's no longer ignored but now has an actual social life outside of a few acquaintances and his roommates. (Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini.)

His relationship with Snape is complicated to say the least. Neither despise one another, but there's a lot of tension. Snape hates the fact that he's Lupin's kid, but so does my oc at times. Snape is his head of house and has to be involved with him every month to give him his wolvesbane potion. In book 6 when Snspe kills Dumbledore instead of Draco, my oc is actually relieved. He's been dealing with Draco all year who mentally is a mess. And now also a werewolf like himself.

Draco and my OC's relationship is never official until the War is over. But the two find solace in one another even on opposite sides of the conflict.

My oc and Theodore manage to stay friends even after the War, especially due to the fact that in the final conflict he, like Draco leaves the Death Eaters even if it means killing their parents.

[does-not-glitter]

Of Monsters and Men

12 September 1942

Another funeral today. Another nightmare to pile onto these youngling's shoulders. Death shouldn't bother me, not anymore, but seeing these kids barely outta childhood, fall dead again and again is too much even for me.

I’ve experienced my fair share of funerals. Grandparents when I was a teen, still alive with a beating heart and warm cheeks. Parents, they died early on as well. Too early to realise their youngest son had become a monster. Father fought in the Civil War, North. Good man. Mother died of pneumonia along with my eldest sister. Then, one by one, all my siblings and the few friends I had. Decade by decade, they died off. Leaving me. 

These deaths are different. Harder to bear. Dying young is a tragedy nobody can explain. Nobody should explain.

I never fought in the first war - the Great one. Never saw the death and suffering that caused. I couldn’t cope with humanity and life after everyone around me started growing old. I moved to the most reclusive part of South America until the news of the end of the War reached me. The war to end all wars, they called it. Much good that did them. 

I moved to London, hoping to reconcile with my dying youngest sister, Margaret. The moment she saw me, she screamed bloody murder and called me the Devil. I can’t say I didn’t expect that. 

Still, I decided to stay in the city. I hoped for a new start. And I got one. People were rebuilding, celebrating, living life. I fed off of that youthful enthusiasm. It made me feel young again. The happiness, as all things in my life, didn’t last long.

I tried to enlist immediately. I’m already dead, so I might as well help out in some way, do what I didn’t the first time. I couldn’t provide any documentation of my citizenship, nor my general existence. To the world, I was a man who died in 19th century America. My accent didn’t help. I was sent out the door, threatened with the police.

Once the war took its first swing, they stopped caring. They gave the job to any willing man.

The men who fight alongside me, all look older than I do. They look at me with pity, like I’m some child, who signed a death warrant. Little do they know it’s the other way around. These kids, whose lives have just begun, 20-year-olds, who’ve barely fallen in love, will die in battle, while I, an old man, who’s lived through too much already will, most likely, survive.

Today we stood around a grave filled with the bodies of twenty men, destroyed by bullets and grenades. We cried and told stories and buried them in the earth, before going back to eat and pray that we live to see another day, pray we don’t end up like them. I didn’t. I don’t pray. Not anymore. The cross I used to wear around my neck would burn me now.

“Eat up, boy,” someone sitting beside me says. I don’t recognise him, until one of his buddies sitting nearby calls him “David.”

He eyes my food with wild hunger. I look down at my bowl full of watery soup, a piece of bread soaking inside. I don’t need to eat, at least not that, but I keep up the pretense. It’s a waste of resources, but it’s either that or admitting I’m a monster and being thrown off the army in the best case scenario. Worst case, with a stake in my heart.

“I’m not hungry. Can’t eat,” I say offhandedly. It’s a good-enough excuse for those who know what it’s like to see someone die, “Eat my portion.”

I hand him the bowl and, without a question, he downs the soup like a beast.

I stand, leaving David before he can make conversation, and walk toward the fire. I can see a few familiar faces, lit up orange by the flames. Paul, Philip, Oliver. Before I can reach the circle around the pit, a hand grabs me and pulls me into the darkness. My eyes adjust. Andrew. Clean shaven with hair slicked back, he dons a smile on his face. Always the optimist.

“Come on, I wanna show you somethin’,” he says, pulling me after him.

The moon illuminates his face, casting a shadow below his sharp cheekbones and pointed nose. His hair is grown out, ready for a haircut, though I like it when it’s this length. It makes him look mature. Elegant.

When I first arrived, his was the first face I saw. He was beautiful. Immediately I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I couldn’t die, but my feelings could kill me.

He pulls me further and further away from camp, towards a creek where the moonlight reflects in the water, and trees and bushes create a nook, a quiet hiding spot, away from the entire world.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding these past few days?” I ask when we reach the water.

He nods, then bends down and beckons me to do the same. I do.

“Look,” he says, pointing to the family of frogs resting on the shore. Their slick skin glows silver. “They’ve found a home here. The kids came out of the water just yesterday.” His gaze is fixed on the frogs in a childlike fascination.

I’m not looking at the frogs. My eyes are on him, his face, his expression. His eyebrows are knitted and his eyes are glowing. There’s so much life in them. Life was cruel when it put you into this world at this time, Andrew.

“Look! The kids are trying to catch bugs!” He grabs my hand to catch my attention.

I tense up.

He glances at me and I smile, though I don’t care about frogs. I smile and squeeze his hand to show I appreciate it all.

“They’re cute,” I say and his face lights up.

We lie down on the hard ground and I’m sure Andrew’s cold. He doesn’t seem to care. He’s looking up at the stars, millions of them flashing down at us like small explosions far, far away.

He takes hold of my hand and points up, explaining the names of the different constellations. I can’t keep up, my focus drifts away, but his voice is soft and sure and happy. That’s all that matters.

“You’re cold,” he says abruptly, interrupting his monologue. There’s a sudden hint of concern in his voice.

“I’m not,” I sit up, pulling my hand free off his.

So does he.

“Your hands are freezing.” He frowns and touches my cheek.

His hand is scorching. And his pulse is fast, faster than normal.

“You’re so cold. Are you alright?” he asks.

I nod, putting a hand over his, the one resting on my cheek. 

“With you, I’m always warm,” I say, before I can realise how stupid and flirtatious that sounds.

“You’re absolutely freezing,” he says, looking into my eyes, ignoring my remark. “Are you sure you’re not ill?”

“I’m sure,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound too strained. Lying, even if not direct, is hard when it comes to Andrew. “I’ve always been cold. Most of my life. It’s nothing serious.”

Except it is. I cannot die, I have to drink human blood to survive, I cannot enter a church or touch a cross or age. I’m older than anyone on this planet, yet I look like a boy. I’m a monster. A goddamn vampire. But that doesn’t matter here and now. None of that matters around Andrew.

17 September 1942

I told him.

I couldn’t keep up the pretense. The lying made me feel guilty. It weighed on my conscience so much that I could not sleep. I lay awake, staring into the darkness, my mind at work. Too busy.

After the morning routine exercises I asked him if we could talk. He was clearly confused at my seriousness, maybe even my nervous ticks. We headed to the creek. I was quiet for a while-- it felt like hours-- as I gathered my courage. I feared I might not be able to say it, but I ripped off the bandaid. It felt as if a bomb exploded in my chest.

Andrew was silent as thoughts rushed through my mind: panic and heartbreak combined. He scrunched up his face, then just said: ‘That makes sense.’

It wasn’t what I expected, but anything is better than being called the Devil or an abomination. Still, I was shocked. I asked him if he understood what I meant, how he could be okay with all this. He said it wasn’t a big deal. He told me there’s nothing unholy about me, just like there’s nothing unholy about us.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Everyone is shivering in the biting cold of late English autumn. Except for me. So I pretend.

The bullets haven’t started firing yet. We’re eating our last scraps of food. I give mine to Andrew. He takes them without a word and squeezes my hand.

“So, Jim, when we get out of here, what’re you gonna do?” Paul, my best mate, asks.

“I dunno.” I shrug. “Maybe I’ll settle down, finally live a peaceful life. Or I’ll travel the world. See what else is out there, y’know. You?”

“I’m gonna open a bakery.” He smiles, his mind travelling to the distant future. “I’ll wake up at the crack of dawn and make breads and scones and all sorts of stuff and the children walking to school will stop by the window and stare at the decorated cakes. They’ll pop in for a warm muffin ‘n then off to learn-”

“You’re empty stomach’s talkin’ again, Paul,” Phillip, sitting at Paul’s side, his hat over his eyes, grunts.

“Shut up, Pip. My dreams are my dreams.”

“And they may be, just not here, not right now, mate,” Phillip says.

Paul sighs, his mind having wandered back from the trip to a brighter world.

The bullets start flying. Commands from commanding officers echo through the trenches. The image of the future disappears along with any semblance of peace.

27 November 1942

There are thirteen wounded and one dead.

Not Andrew or Paul or Pip. Only Oliver’s a bit beaten up. But that tough guy’ll be alright.

Nobody talked on the way back. We were too tired and broken. Andrew was awfully quiet when we got back too. Any last shred of positivity or joy he tried to cling onto seemed to have disappeared. I found him sitting by the creek, looking out at the dark waters. The frogs were gone and the air smelt of death. We sat, side by side for a long time, until Andrew left to go to sleep.

I sat in the quiet for a bit, trying to collect my thoughts, but they seemed to have drifted away like leaves in the wind. Paul was still up when I returned. He made conversation and we stayed up, chatting, until his eyes gave out and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. The war has invaded every aspect of our lives now.

3 December 1942

Paul asked me about my family today. I must admit, I was surprised. He’s never touched the subject before. I guess the snowcover and the incoming Christmas atmosphere brings up thoughts of loved ones. 

I tried to dodge the question, but when he insisted I told him I was an orphan. A believable lie, fitting the fact that I never write letters home like the others do. He looked guilty and wanted to say something, but I changed the subject, asking him about his own family.

He told me about his sisters, anecdotes of their growing up, his strict parents and the way he tried to make his sisters laugh after his father had tried to scold them. His voice was soaked in love. How one could hold so much affection for their family is beyond me.

But if I could still pray, I would pray for his family. And for him. That he returns home to them. That he celebrates the holidays with them once again.

24 December 1942

The fighting has ceased as the semblance of a festive atmosphere fills the air. Everyone is more joyful than they should be. It’s been so long since I’ve experienced a Christmas Eve, that I’d forgotten the infectious cheerfulness. Maybe my family was never that cheerful.

We collected the dead from battlefields and gathered round to celebrate. The men sang carols. I recognised some of them, their lyrics changed but the melodies the same. I tried to sing along, but it felt like swallowing glass. Vampire perk. 

Andrew and I met by the creek. He showed me a piece of a mistletoe he had taken. It was such a silly gesture, but he insisted, laughing like a child. We kissed under the mistletoe and it was then that I understood the fondness everyone holds for the holiday. Even a war as terrible as we’ve experienced could not stop the boys from spreading the joy, from a moment of peacefulness.

Bullets are winging its way past me, bombs are going off, dirt is flying, and there’s only one goal in my mind, the animalistic instinct: kill.

I’m not distracted by Paul or Andrew. Half of us stayed at base. Something about this battle being too dangerous to send the whole crew. They were right. Men are falling like trees in a hurricane; one’s blown apart by a bomb, another falls with twenty bullet holes in his chest.

The smell of blood is overwhelming, which only strengthens the monstrous side of me.

Bullets rip apart my uniform, lodging into my body, but you can’t kill what’s already dead.

The gun is digging into my shoulder, painful and heavy. A human being would have collapsed already, from both the blood loss and the searing pain. More proof that whatever I am is not human.

Paul made me promise that I come back no matter the cost. Before I left, he took me aside and cried and said goodbye. I wanted to tell him not to worry, that I cannot die by the bullets or the grenades. The moment wasn’t right. I accepted his tears, comforted him.

Andrew never said goodbye. He didn’t have to. A goodbye means ‘I’ll probably never see you again,’ but he knows better than that.

I trip over a mound. Glancing back, I spot a face I recognise on the ground.

Phillip.

My breath hitches. I fall to my knees.

Pip’s face is caked with mud and sweat and blood. His eyes are fixed on the sky and empty, lacking any hint of life. The spark is gone.

“Philip-” I try to squeeze out the words, but they catch in my throat.

I try to shake him awake, but my efforts are fruitless.

He doesn’t stir awake. He doesn’t grumble for me to stop with the cries. 

He’s dead.

Gone.

I’m dead, but I’m here. How’s that fair? I’m a monster, while he had a soul of gold.

When I tear my eyes away from Phillip-- Phillip’s body-- my ears pick up an eerie silence. Pure nothingness. There’s no more bullets, no more screams, no more explosions. As if the world has stopped, not even a rustle of leaves in the distance. I stand in a battlefield strewn with the bodies of soldiers, some still dying, writhing like worms, beyond help.

I pick up Pip’s body and head back to base.

Andrew’s first to see me. His face lights up until his eyes shift to what’s in my arms. His face drops, the light dimming, his eyes filling with tears. He shouts for the rest and helps me lay Phillip on the ground.

The soldiers crowd around, some-- probably Pip’s closest friends-- collapsing beside him. Others, to see who returned.

One of the commanding officers comes up, grave-faced. He barely glances at Phillip.

“Where’s the rest of my men?” he asks.

“All killed, sir,” I say, trying to keep my voice from breaking, “I don’t know how I escaped alive.”

He eyes me, trying to spot the cowardice, the man who ran from battle, but my clothes are torn and I look like hell. Feel like that too.

“Go get yourself cleaned and patched up,” he snaps.

“Yes, sir.”

Andrew patches me up. I don’t need it. I’ve already healed, but if the army sees I came back without a scratch, I’ll be labelled a coward.

We don’t talk the entire time. I think he understands.

When it gets dark, we sneak off to the creek and he kisses me like the world is going to end. Because it might. Because it already has.

17 January 1943

How can I forgive myself for what I cannot control?

All these men died in that battle and I had to luck out.

I should be glad to live another day, to see Paul and Andrew and Oliver. I’m not. Most still believe I’m a coward. They think I ran away from battle. Paul’s starting to believe it too. It’s better to die a hero than be the only one to survive the war. 

The nightmares are getting worse and now I fear falling asleep. You would have thought I wouldn’t need sleep. I do. Not as much as normal people, but I sleep like them. I dream too.

I wish for the sweet release the Reaper brings. Though if I could die, I would burn in the pits of Hell. Maybe I am already dead and this is my punishment.

24 February 1943

I told Paul my secret. Not mine and Andrew’s. My own.

He’s been wary of me ever since I returned from battle as the sole survivor. He deserved the truth, so I gave it to him.

He didn’t believe me at first, laughed, thought I was making excuses. Until I showed him the lack of scars and the lack of a beating heart and the fangs. I brought a cross and showed his how it burns me.

He became silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. I could tell his mind was hard at work. When he spoke again, it was to ask me why I hadn’t told him earlier. His voice was laced with underlying anger. He told me I could have spared him days of worry and pacing and prayers sent my way. He left in a storm of outrage and confusion before I could say anything.

28 February 1943

Paul has been avoiding me for days now. He’s kept to himself.

Andrew noticed the tension, but I asked him not to intervene.

Even among the friction, Paul accepted my portion of food this morning. He glanced at me, eyes shining with fondness for just a moment, but he did not say a word.

Nevertheless, Paul’s anger being directed at my keeping secrets rather than my evil nature is easier to handle.

21 March 1943

Tensions are high.

Tomorrow we head into one of the largest battles yet.

Nobody wanted to acknowledge what we were all thinking as we gathered in groups, spending what might be our last moments together.

The thought of losing everyone I care about, the mere idea, terrifies me. I expect today to be another sleepless night.

They weren’t kidding when they warned us it was the biggest fight yet.

My instincts have kicked in and there’s only me and the target. I drown out the sound around me until it blends into static, white noise. 

The sound of Paul’s voice jolts me out of my fixation, my head whipping to where I heard the voice, just as a bomb explodes nearby. It flings me sideways. 

I end up on the ground, pain of the impact radiating through my bones. Shrapnel digs into my skin. Pulling myself back up, I notice Paul just next to me. He’s on the ground, clutching his chest. His breaths are fast and heavy.

“Paul,” I cry, kneeling at his side.

“Jimmy.” He sees me and tries to smile. A grimace forms instead. “You should be fighting. Go!”

“Let me help you,” I say, trying not to sound too desperate, “You’re hurt.”

“I’m beyond help now,” he says, lifting his hands to reveal pooling blood.

My vampire senses kick in, but I push them down.

“Paul-”

“No, Jim, listen,” he interrupts me, taking hold of my hand, “I’m so sorry for getting angry when you told me your secret. I should have understood. It was horrible of me to think your reason for not telling me was spiteful.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he says, his voice fainter by the minute, “I need you to know I accept and love you, vampire or not. You’ve been the best friend-” He heaves, grimacing from pain, “-the best friend a man could ask for.”

“Paul-” I try to say something, anything, but my voice is weak.

“I wish we had more time.”

“We can!” I say, clutching his hand, “I can save you. Just let me turn you! You’ll be like me, you’ll live!”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I signed up for this. It’s an honour to die for my country, for the future of the world, for my sisters. For you.”

“But what about the bakery?” Tears are blurring my vision.

“That was just wishful thinking, Jimmy. Daydreams.”

“No-” I say, the world around me breaking apart, “How can this- How can you accept this?”

He just smiles.

“Jim,” he says, clutching my hand, “Live a good life when all this ends. For me.”

Tears fall down my cheeks and onto the ground.

“I’ll always be by your side. No matter what,” he says weakly, and closes his eyes, muttering, “You are the best man I know, Jim.”

His grip on my hand loosens.

I search for his heartbeat, but it’s gone. A melody cut short, mid-chord.

For a moment, the world ceases to exist. I’m flung into a black hole, non-existent, timeless. But Paul asked me to live for him. And Andrew’s somewhere out there as well. I guide my consciousness back to reality.

Standing up, I face the fight happening around me, a new kind of rage flowing through my veins.

3 April 1943

Tod- Today

8 May 1945

We won.

Everyone sits around the radio in anticipation of what we already expect. The agitation and nerves travel like static between a balloon and a cotton jumper. 

The men cheer as Chruchill’s voice announces the “End of the War in Europe.” They hug and laugh and weep in relief. My reaction is more subdued, but I can’t help feeling cheerful as well. I feel as if a weight I never knew I was carrying had been taken off my shoulders. I grin when I see Andrew jumping with glee. He looks youthful again, the same Andrew I remember from when I first met him.

“We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing,” the voice on the radio proclaims, static disfiguring the words.

The men cheer again, ignoring the second part of that sentence, one that feels closer to home for me: “-let us not forget for a moment the toils and efforts that lie ahead.”

Victory might be in our hands, but the War will stay in our minds forever.

Maybe the others don’t mind that right now. All they care about is getting back to their families. That’s something I could never understand. All I have is an eternity of loneliness.

I’ve grown to appreciate the constant company. The war, though its terrible nature haunts me, gave me what I hadn’t had since I became a vampire. A family. Now, I will lose it all.

Everyone goes quiet again, as King George speaks. Then celebrations start up again, chatter filling the air like electricity. For a brief moment everyone forgets the horrors they’d had to experience.

The radio stays on, and I stay sitting alone, observing the crowd. A melancholy of sorts sets into my bones. 

For a moment, I think I spot Paul among the men, before the crowd moves and his image disappears. I don’t see any of my friends. They all died, Oliver only a couple months ago, the last one to go. Andrew is the only one left, but it hurts to look at him. He can go back to his family now, to normalcy, and forget any of this ever happened. Forget me.

I feel a presence at my side. 

It’s Andrew.

The world hates me today.

“You alright?” he asks, sitting at my side.

I nod, averting his piercing gaze.

“Why aren’t you celebrating then?” he asks, his eyebrows knitting together, “The war’s over! We can leave, go home, finally start our life!”

My head perks up at the final two worlds, confusion settling in my brain like dust. He couldn’t have meant it like that.

Andrew notices my puzzlement and shakes his head, laughing.

“Did you think I would stop caring about you as soon as the war ended?” he says.

If I were alive, my face would have turned as red as a tomato.

He just chuckles and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.

This isn’t just the End. It’s the beginning of something. Something new. A new life, full of possibilities. And not alone anymore.

***

When you’re immortal, the longer you live, the faster your life passes. It’s pure mathematics. If you’ve lived a year, another year feels like a lifetime. Because from your perspective, it is. When you’ve lived hundreds, a year feels like the blink of an eye, a feather in the wind. Memories of the past fade away and you might as well have never lived those hundreds of years.

Seventy five years at Andrew’s side felt like a hundred lifetimes, albums full of never-fading photographs.

When society started to get back on track after the war, Andrew and I retired into a calm neighbourhood. We lived a life on the sidelines, far away from the prying eyes, though there still were rumour about us. That’s inevitable.

Andrew grew older, while I remained the same. His back gave out, his heart almost did too. His face became etched with wrinkles rather than freckles. I looked like an eighteen-year-old. Still, he stayed by my side. 

Early on, I offered him eternity with me. He declined, saying that although he loved me, he couldn’t imagine living forever, the world moving on while he stayed, like a bug trapped in amber. It was never brought up again.

“D’you think they’ll recognise me?” I ask, for the tenth time today, as I drive Andrew and me to a memorial celebration.

For the seventy-fifth anniversary of Victory Day, the organisers have invited any living veterans to the celebration. 

Only Andrew received a letter

It shouldn’t have hurt that much. I decided on the day I would fake my death, but it’s not like I had a choice.

“Memories get foggier with time, Jim, especially ones like that,” he says, “After so long the details fade. You’ll be a mere stranger to them.”

That doesn’t reassure me. But the thought of them having no clue who I am feels safer than being recognised.

We arrive at the memorial and I help Andrew out of the car. He’s still quite supple for his age. Even then, he leans on his cane with one hand and clutches my arm with the other as we walk. The crowd of media, professors, and government officials is already large as we find ourselves at the seats reserved for veterans.

There aren’t many of us left anymore. Old age caught up to everyone, especially in the recent years. I’ve lost count of the number of funerals. 

Many of the veterans still alive have declined their invitations due to health concerns. There’s only a couple sitting in the seats. I don’t recognise any of them except the one closest to Andrew. David. 

He spots us and smiles. His uniform is a bit loose around the shoulders, though neatly ironed. I try to hide my shock of seeing him again, the years visible in his every move.

“Andrew, right?” he says, moving closer to us. His voice is weaker than the hollers I remember from back in the day.

Andrew nods.

“Great to see you’re still in good shape, Dave,” he says.

“You too,” David says, then glances at me. A flash of recognition passes through his eyes and for a moment I imagine the impossible. My stomach churns as he opens his mouth.

“You’re Jim’s grandson, aren’t you?” he says.

Relief washes over me and I nod. 

“You look so much like him,” he adds, smiling to himself as if remembering a memory, “It’s nice to see you taking care of your grandfather’s friend. You never married, did you, Andrew? No kids of your own to keep you company, eh?”

Andrew shakes his head, a hint of amusement in his faint smile.

“Excuse me,” a woman says, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

I jolt at the touch. 

She’s relatively young, with a lanyard around her neck, wearing an elegant blue suit. She must be an organiser of the memorial.

“The event is about to begin, could you please head to the guest area?” she asks, eyeing me, as if to figure me out.

I glance at Andrew, who gives me a sad smile. He squeezes my hand and I smile back. 

Leaving the veteran area, I imagine a world where I’m sitting next to Andrew, wrinkled and old as well, reminiscing the few smiles of our past. Not “Jim’s grandon”, but Jim himself, embracing the horrors I experienced. 

For a mere second I step into the world where Andrew and I live a couple more years, until our age catches up to us. In that world I get to see Paul and Oliver again. In that world, I can rest. In this world, I live on. I am forever an eighteen-year-old going to another funeral. Forever an echo of everyone I’ve lost.

[nothingnicetosaysitnexttome]

90 Day Fiance: Season 7, Episode 4

Ooooh chile. The biggest takeaways for me this episode were thank goodness for Anny/Robert and Anna/Mursel b/c the rest of y’all sleeping on your responsibility to entertain. Let’s start with the worst and get to the best and by best I mean (5 dumpster fires out of 5 dumpster fires)

MIKE and NATALIE

We start with Mike leaving his beloved ranch in RURAL Washington state to the best side character to emerge on this show-Beau. Seriously his 10 seconds on screen was the highlight of this reel. We then flash to Natalie and her two friends in Ukraine (umm...have I been saying it wrong for years by saying-the Ukraine?) who are imitating human women going shopping. No joke, this is some earth girls are easy shit but with a gender swap. When Natalie yelled “vote!” on the dress to her two friends I had to check if they were blinking. We then get some background on Natalie via ‘exposition friend’ who she knows from work. Okay, big request to 90 day, alongside their country can you please put their profession? Everyone always says “job” “work” I NEED to know what these people are paid to do. Thank you, TLC. Natalie used to be married to a man who owned a big business. He could spoil her and give her all she wants. I needed them to call in a shady editor over from the early Rupaul’s Drag Race series to pull up some footage of the ranch. Something tells me Natalie gon be bustin out

We also hear Natalie talk about how Mike had a weight issue and that was important to her because she is such an active person. Judging by the pictures they were showing before I think Mike’s in for some serious body-shaming. He arrives and says “look at my cute little girl” and I almost vommed. Then he described her in the bedroom for a solid 60 seconds going through the entire motions of acting out a tigress and I projectile vomited everywhere. No surface in this house was left untouched. He then says hi to her mom who adores him even though neither of them can speak a word to each other and I suspect it is because the mom knows this man is her daughter’s ticket out of this home and they head off to play tigress meets the... I can’t I can. not.

MICHAEL and JULIANA

Unless I blacked out which -let’s be real is possible-they were in this episode for a solid three minutes. The kids continue to bring on wisdom well beyond their years and Juliana thinks it is a smart idea to style her hair and the daughter’s hair the same. The princess Leigh do only makes her look even younger. The kid’s bi-o-log-i-cal mother shows up and iconically states: “some women may be intimidated by someone so young, so tall, so skinny, so gorgeous, so intelligent, so traveled but I don’t have time for that.” And I said let the preacher say amen! She then says to Juliana there will be no parenting for you which- if I was 20- I’d be like fine with me brah y’all have it. I take “not mothering” to mean I’m never gonna discipline these kids, pay for anything they gotta do, and when they wanna stay up all night cool step-not mom is gonna allow it.

BLAKE and JASMIN

So we are introduced to Blake and Jasmin. It was very hard to focus because this man had straight-up JT NYSYNC bleached to high heavens Ramen hair on top and a Michael B Jordan beard in black on the bottom. But he starts describing going on a dating app after getting divorced at a young age and I’m like this looks promising. They’re about the same age, they’re both attractive, she comes from Finland which people are not fleeing in droves (in fact girl can I get trade citizenship with you- don’t ask why- it rhymes with Rump) and then a couple red flags come in each with a full music stop. The first is that this grown man lives with his parents which seems to be this season’s theme. As soon as he said that I was like hold up- hold the phone. And this is not a Norman Bates situation like Colt-e and Larissa where he is living there because his mom is his everything. This is a-I’m poor as hell and this “music thing” is me “uploading tik toks on the regular thing.” So how is he paying for this visa? The second was that Jasmin’s sister won the green card lottery and lives ten mins from Blake’s house.This got me thinking back to the  dating app they met on like hold up-he said he didn’t realize she didn’t even live in America which means this feisty minx right here probably put up like a 10-mile radius around her sister’s house. Maaaan, don’t hate the playa hate the game. Annnyyywaaay the sister and Blake drive to the airport together and the sister seems like she is not quite present. She mentions being excited to get to know Blake followed by him asking her several questions and her with the lights on, but no one home. I was very curious if Jasmin was going to have the same energy and surprise! She does. When they get back to the hotel room he says they have some alone time what should they do and she responds “shower and sleep” SAVAGE.

TANIA and SYNGIN

Now Tania pulls a move here that is a classic 90-day fiance guaranteed fail. As someone who has been watching the series since day 1 you never spend the first few days in a place waaaay better than the nowherelseville you live in. So after taking him to NY to stay in a hotel they go to CT to her mom’s shed. That’s no shade to CT but you could take me to a shed in the south of France and I’d be like I’m out. She should’ve had them share a room in an elderly home for a few days and been like surprise! private shed! On top of that she told him it was ready and it ain’t. And on top on top of that she is bossing him around to get the work done as fast as possible exactly how she wants it. If I was Syngin, I would’ve gone straight: 

and been like if we living in a shed it’s Syngin’s shed, Syngin’s rules, and Syngin’s way of life. But instead, they have an explosive fight on day 4, which is always great when you have 90 days.

ROBERT and ANNY

Now this couple is taking me on the roller coaster I was promised. This is the enterTAINTment a bitch needs! One minute I’m team Robert, the next minute I’m team Anny (to be fair I am like 85% Team Robert but you get the point). So it starts off with them going off to meet Bryson’s grandparents. The mom is out of the picture but the grandparents are not and Anny is so upset about it. I am like why is she acting so weird about this and saying they need to leave the past in the past.

Then grandma shows up....

and grandma is fooooooooiiiiiiine as all hell. I was like ooohhhh got it Anny, got it. Also, is Bryson’s mom 12? Nana Stephanie proceeds to have a very rational- if not a little invasive -conversation with Anny who is not having her at all. She is at an 11 straight out the gate. And when Stephanie reveals herself to be a porn star (Diamond Foxxx-you’re welcome) Anny is all that’s disgusting she’s uneducated. And that is some bullshit. If Stephanie wants to be a porn star, by all means, do you. Robert then takes Anny to a restaurant when she really should be in bed with some Theraflu. In this hoarse voice, Anny pulls out a bunch of screenshots of Robert’s exes on his fbook. I'm on the fence on this one. For the most part, I think it's fine if you keep up pics from old relationships but I suppose I could see why it might bother someone. Then Robert reveals Bryson is not his only child. Oh no-the man has FIVE children by four different women. That was a full mic-drop moment for me. I was like hey umm DJ run that back. Did you say five? Four baby-mamas? And where are these children?  They have been portraying this man as this savior single father and did not let us know about the other kids until episode FOUR. Well done, TLC. You go for that Emmy.

ANNA and MURSEL

With this couple I simply cannot. I have zero idea what this man’s motivations are. He does not seem into Americans or American culture and he does not seem into Anna. Is he a hostage? Honestly, I do not know. They go on a bee-keeping adventure which for them is foreplay but the man is shading Anna’s bee-keeping abilities!

She is trying to use this whole experience to set off a night with some bubbly and Boyz II men playing and he is not getting it. at. all. because neither of them understands a word the other one says. She’s all-”does my bee-keeping make you horny baby?” and he's like “bees, yes.” They’re then on their way to what I think is her bridal shower and she is telling him to talk to her friends but she literally has to hand motion “talk.” He arrives and understands nothing and no one commenting on how in Turkey only men have bachelor parties. Oh my non-alcohol drinking friend you have yet to see a bachelorette party. All her friends are confused because these two can barely communicate like even on the most basic of levels. In terms of relationships via google translator, I would put them BELOW Paul and Karine and that's a low ass standard.

So that is this week’s episode of 90 day fiancee! RIP to Angela and Michael and Sasha and Emily because they were not shown for a single second. We keep you in our prayers.

[jaehwn]

30 questions tag

Rules: answer 30 questions then tag 20 (bye) blogs you would like to know better.

I was tagged by: @king-jaehwan​ & @k-jaehwan​ (melody!! I didn’t get the tag in my notifs but I saw the tag when I was going through the “kim jaehwan” tag) THANKS FOR TAGGING ME GUYS!! LOVE YOU ❣️❣️❣️

1. Nicknames: Debs ; is my most used nickname (some of my friends use to call me debstar but now I think about it, it just reminds me of danik saying “imma rapstar” and it’s giving me nightmares so no 🙉)

2. Gender: Female

3. Star sign: Scorpio

4. Height: 155cm

5. Time: 9:20pm

6. Birthday: October 28th

7. Favorite Bands/Groups: GOT7 (my absolute ults), wanna one (my top 1 for now), MBLAQ (forever a special place in my heart)

8. Favorite solo artists: IU (she’s so cute), cheondung ❣️ zico & taeyeon

9. Song stuck in my head: this

10. Last movie watched: Passengers ; it was an alright, pretty good movie

11. Last show watched: heart signal ; it feeds my single syndrome i’m joking

12. When did i create my blog: June 18th, 2017 (didn’t have to change it bc I copied from lena)

13. What do I post: VISHO ; mainly him but includes other wannaone members (actually thinking about making this a wannaone/produce101 blog.. BUT I’ll still be a jaehwan update blog. I am not going to abandon updates even in a million years. tell me what you guys think 😶)

14. Last thing googled: neck veins ; DON’T JUDGE ME !!

15. Do you have other blogs?: yes, multifandom blog ; which I have abandoned since making this one oops

16. Do you get asks?: No but I LOVE getting them ; how do people get asks... I’m waiting for that day people will send me their rants about how much they hate love jaehwan

17. Why did u choose your url?: Because this blog is dedicated to him lols ; I wanted jaehwan/kimjaehwan but jaehwn was the closest thing available but I’ve grown to love this url

18. Following: Many? but not as many as other people I think. I’d like to follow more tho 😊 ; I should probably go through my followers list and follow some blogs hehe

19. Followers: 426 ; I’m going to do a project when I reach 500 😎

20. Favorite colors: anything pastel, corals, pinks & purples

21. Average hours of sleep: 6ish ; rip work...

22. Lucky number: 28? ; I feel like no number has yet to bless me with some good luck (but I think I blessed my parents when I was born on the 28th 😅)

23. Instruments: Piano ; but haven’t played in a loooong time

24. What am I wearing: pajamas with a jacket

25. How many blankets I sleep with: 2 ; and I’m still cold (also, starting to get sick so rip)

26. Dream job: idk anymore. I need money and traveling would be nice (leaving this here from lena bc it is goals!) ; actually I’d like to be a part of a volunteering medical team in developing countries

27. Dream trip: America ? tbh korea even tho I’ve already been twice

28. Favorite food(s): potato, sushi, pizza, rice, avocado ; all the good stuff (typical) honestly I eat anything so my favourite food depends on what I’m craving. Currently in need of some alcohol bc I need to drink my sorrows away i am dramatic

29. Nationality: I always get confused by this question bc is it like where I have my citizenship or more like my ethnicity?

30. Favorite song now: this (don’t hate me)

Tagging: I dont know who’s done it or not, so feel free to ignore or not do if you don’t want to ^_^ @kimjaehwanswife @kimsjaehwan @donghans @kimdonghyun @ong-seungwoo @daewi @yoonjsung and any followers/mutuals wanting to do, feel free ~~

[scifiphan]

92 Things About Me

tysm @sleepwalkerphan  for tagging me in this! it’s 2am and I’m procrastinating the heck out of writing so this is perfect lmao.

also I’ll put most of the things below the cut so keep reading if ya wanna know 92 fun facts about me

edit: this took me almost an hour to do and towards the end, I basically confess my entire life so have fun reading that lmao. like i seriously have a realisation about how idk what i’m doing with my life hahahaha

THE LAST..

1. Drink : Water #stayhydrated 2. Phone call : mum 3. Text Message : a gif of phil being scared in bed (even my irl friends are trash) 4. Song You Listened To : currently listening to Taro - alt-J 5. Time You Cried : On sunday I cried over a renovation reality tv show (??? yeah idk either, bro) the apartments just looked so nice and the team I liked got kicked off the show.

HAVE YOU EVER..

6. Dated Someone Twice : nope 7. Been Cheated On : nope 8. Kissed Someone And Regretted It : YES (smh @ me) 9. Lost Someone Special : thankfully no 10. Been Depressed : i honestly don’t know. i think I have but am so freaking stubborn at admitting I have had depressive episodes in the past 11. Got Drunk And Thrown Up : YES OH MY GOODNESS I HAVE HAD SO MANY BAD TIMES. DON’T DRINK WINE AND THEN A MILKSHAKE AND THEN DANCE ON A BEACH. YOU WILL ONLY END UP THROWING UP IN A GARBAGE BIN OUTSIDE A KEBAB STORE (it wasn’t even after midnight, that’s the most embarrassing thing) 

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS :

12. Green 13. Pink 14. Turquoise

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU..

15. Made New Friends : yes!! so many new and amazing friends 16. Fallen Out Of Love : nope. 17. Laughed Until You Cried : laughing until I cry is me every time 18. Found Out Someone Was Talking About You : yes (you would think that adults would stop teen behaviours lol) 19. Met Someone Who Changed You : yes, the last year included so much change. 20. Found Out Who Your True Friends Are : Yes. Just gonna put it out there: traveling for an extensive period of time overseas really shows who your true friends are and who are the snakes. 21. Kissed Someone On Your Facebook List : hahahaha yes (too mant rip) 22.How Many Of Your Facebook Friends Do You Know In Real Life :  probably almost all of them (so like 550) only a few on there are my internet friends 23. Do You Have Any Pets : nope and I probs wont get another pet for a long long time 24. Do You Want To Change Your Name : NO!!!!!!! Teddii is a blessing although I would change my last name (it’s two surnames joined together and it makes life difficult because it’s so long) 25. What Did You Do For Your Last Birthday : went out for dinner at a mexican place, won a few dollars on the pokies and then went out clubbing (also i got a fine rip me) 26. What Time Did You Wake Up This Morning: 11am OOPS (i slept in and missed uni) 27. What Were You Doing At Midnight Last Night : probably making a gif 28. Name Something You Cannot Wait For : FINISHING UNI AND MOVING TO THE UK (hopefully to do my masters in global terrorism at the uni of london but if not i really wanna get a 1 year working visa and just do some hospitality work before I start a career) 29. When Was The Last Time You Saw Your Mother : like 4 hours ago when we were watching tv 30. What Is One Thing You Could Change About Your Life : I wish I had a UK passport, it would make life a lot easier for me if I had dual citizenship instead of a boring Australian passport 31. What Are You Listening To Right Now : alt-J, a live performance of Taro  32. Have You Ever Talked To A Person Named Tom : I know so many Tom’s it’s ridiculous 33. Something That Is Getting On Your Nerves : PEOPLE!!! WHO!! THINK!! THAT!! IF YOUR DEGREE!! ISN’T STEM!! THEN IT ISN’T!! HARD!!!! (i’m looking @ every friend who does a stem degree and always laughs at how my degree must be so easy because it doesn’t include math)

34. Most Visited Websites : tumblr, youtube, my uni’s website, facebook 35. Elementary : v great time, got bullied heaps but still had fun 36. High School : problematic fave. honestly my time at high school can fill a 500 page essay. being right next to a beach and river was actually gr8, the endless issues weren’t so good. 37. College/University : it has been a wild ride. I swapped degrees so I still have around 2 years left but uni has been my fave so far 38. Hair Colour : PINK!!!! (naturally ginger) 39. Long or Short Hair : long 40. Do You Have A Crush On Someone : nope (which is a shocker) 41. What Do You Like About Yourself : I like my individuality and independance 42. Piercings : 2x lobes, 1x helix, 1x nose. (i’m thinkng about getting my conch in a few weeks) 43. Blood Type : O+ 44. Nickname : ted, teddii bear, sideshow bob, cotton candy 45. Relationship Status : hella single 46. Zodiac Sign : Cancer (aka my birthday is soon hell yeah) 47. Pronouns : she/her. 48. Favourite Tv Show : STAR TREK: VOYAGER WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAVOURITE 49. Tattoos : crescent moon on my right wrist (i sorta don’t like how it turned out but after a year I have grown to appreciate the meaning) 50. Right Or Left Hand : Left handed (aka another reason why Dan is my spirit animal)

FIRST..

51. Surgery : i got a bunch of teeth removed when I was like 4/5  52. Word : baba or ma  53. Sport : soccer  54. Vacation : i actually can’t remember my first vacation. probs Sydney tbh idk I went a lot of places when I was young 55. Pair Of Trainers : probably something Adidas tbh

WHAT ARE YOU..

56. Eating : nothing 57. Drinking : water 58. Reading : nothing at the moment besides uni textbooks 59. I’m About To : I should say sleep but I’ll probably just watch youtube 60. Listening To : Breezeblocks by alt-J (can you see a recurring theme with my music questions?) 61. Waiting For : GoT SEASON 7 AKA MY BIRTHDAY (honestly feel so blessed to grow older and watch new GoT on the same day) 62. Craving For : MONEYYYYYYY. ya girl is unemployed thanks to the bad habit of planning last minute overseas holidays 63. Do you wanna get married : eventually but at the same time it doesn’t worry me 64. Going To Do When You Get Older : ????? ?????? ????? you would think I would have an idea but tbh idk. I’m studying International Relations and I want to do a postgrad in global terrorism. But career wise I have no bloody idea. I would like to work in the UN or UNESCO or for the Australian Government in an embassy. but at the same time I also want to be a travel photographer and just ignore my degree (idk adult life is hard)

YOUR TYPE..

65. Hugs or Kisses : HUGS 66. Lips or Eyes : eyes! <3333 67. Short or Tall : tall guys!!! but short girls are my weakness!! 68. Young or Old : HA haHA HA old 69. Nice Arms Or Nice Stomach : slight preference for nice arms because tummys are cute no matter what 70. Sensitive or Loud : I am both of those things so, por que no las dos? 71. Hook Up or Relationship : relationship (although I can’t relate because i am eternally single) 72. Troublemaker or Hesitant : I prefer when people are upfront instead of hiding stuff from me so I guess that means troublemaker?

HAVE YOU EVER..

73. Kissed A Stranger : yes 74. Drank Hard Liquor : yes (love me some vodka) 75. Lost Eye glasses or contact lenses : not yet thankfully 76. Turned Someone Down : YES! (there is nothing wrong with turning people down.) 77. Sex On First Date : no 78. Broken Someone’s Heart : yes and I still feel bad 79. Had Your Heart Broken : yep 80. Been Arrested : yes (kind of, long story) 81. Cried When Someone Died : yes. although I tend to go more numb instead of crying. idk it’s weird because I cry about everything but death kinda makes me become numb 82. Fallen For A Friend : yes (oops)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN..

83. In Yourself : yes although I need to believe in myself a lot more 84. Miracles : yes 85. Love At First Sight : yes and no. I believe it exists but I feel like a lot of people believe that they are experiencing love at first sight when in reality it is infatuation/lust. 86. Santa Claus : this question conflicts me because the logical side of me says no but the optimistic child side of me refuses to accept the truth 87. Kiss On The First Date : yeah 88. Angels : nah, not for me

OTHER..

89. Current best friend’s name : do i have a best friend? not really. again, it’s a weird time for me when it comes to friends. 90. Eye Colour : um blue with green and grey mixed in (it’s so hard to describe but yeah, those three) 91. Favourite singer/Band : Ed Sheeran, Mumford & Sons, al-J (i love them all a lot.) 92. Favourite Movie : Avatar. yes the blue alien one. It’s lame but I fell in love with the na’vi culture and it kinda helped get me obsessed with scifi.

And that’s a wrap!

If anyone actually read all that I hope you enjoyed my (very) late night confessions. Idk who to tag so if you see this and want to do it feel free to do so! Also, come hit up my inbox/messages if you wanna be my friend after reading this, I wanna make some friends on this hellsite

[seulementpourlesamoureux]

the amount of crap I’ve been put through by my family is un-fucking-believable. But I think the thing that pisses me off the most is hands down how my mother opens my mail & parcels & makes a point of doing so in the harshest most invasive way possible. like she’ll rip open envelopes so hard, sometimes the papers inside are ripped or damaged. Or she’ll rifle through the contents of my parcel. and then after she’s done, she usually leaves my parcels in the downstairs bathroom (delightful, innit?) or if it’s just letters/envelopes, on my bed.

she has zero concept or respect for privacy and honestly, I wanna document all of this shit so that someday I can lay actual charges against her for this shit (it’s a federal offense here to open other people’s mail) but there is no way that I can think of that I can build a case against her, especially while I’m still living under her roof. Especially because if I challenge her in any way she threatens to throw me out, even though I pay rent, but she can still evict me with 2 weeks notice in my city at least. And insists that as long as I live under her roof, I “have no right to privacy”. Because I’m “dependent” on her.

So that argument is what she would basically use if she was in charge of any vulnerable persons, definitely? She’s a fucking control-freak demon. And if I wasn’t worried about how her having a criminal record would affect my citizenship application, I would 100% be filing charges against her the second I leave this house.

[coalessscence]

1 & 6 for the mun questions.

mun asks - send them to me because it’s spring break !!!  :::  ACCEPTING!

1. how many muses have you had on tumblr total?

well, here’s a little secret for you: about two years ago now i made lorraine’s blog, my first ever blog. a few months later i made herb’s, then jennifer’s, then linda’s, then mira’s, then tommy/underdog’s, then maude’s- then it all started to spiral out of control, so i made this multi instead. that was a little over one year ago.this means- can you guess it- i have never dropped a muse. i have only continued to add more. the current amount of muses i have, as i am still fairly young in the rp world (although i cannot say the same for my general tumblr citizenship rip), is how many muses i’ve ever had. 20.

6. a muse you’d add if you weren’t worried people wouldn’t be interested?

tbh, there’s not one? i kind of just add whoever i’m excited about. sure, sometimes i wish more people were excited about my muses like i am, but i have some friends who are always down for a new muse no matter how obscure or unpopular, and what matters is that i write who i want and have a good time. there is a queue of muses i wanna add, but that is largely governed by the speed at which i can find fcs, make icons, make bios and pages and do drafts, not by interest of other people.

thanks so much for the asks my babe!