#I'm tired of constantly pulling teeth (and this is an issue for both old and new mutuals rather than one over the other)

[constellationcrowned]

((I want everyone to keep something in mind in regards to this blog and this is going to sound like a general, common sense post (and in a way it is) but it's also hi I'm in your house, whispering into your ear, telling you to call ga//amestop and ask them if they have bat//tleto//ads---, blah blah, basically it's personal too:

With me, regardless of blog or content, both communication and engagement go hand in hand. Communication and engagement needs to go both ways.

I love posting and reblogging memes and calls and will continue to do so but you folks---old mutual or new mutual doesn't matter---need to take the initiative yourself sometimes too. Be enthusiastic. Be spontaneous. Be proactive. I don't want to ask people to write with me all of the damn time nor do I want to chase after people all of the time because if I have to do that constantly over and over again it starts feeling incredibly one sided even when it isn't (because ofc people have lives, specific interests, anxiety, and whatever else which are all things that I deal with myself and I understand how that can stop someone from doing something, but that's how it feels especially over an extended period of time) and I don't need to explain how disheartening and draining that can be.

My seeming to interact with only one person---and for both of my blogs it's @magioffire and we all know that---it's not because we're being stuck up, elitist or whatever inane and incorrect term people want to throw at our feet it's because we engage and communicate. The give and take between us (both from an ic and ooc standpoint) never feels imbalanced or even transactional (I really hate using that word but, again I gotta stress this, that's how this makes me feel) and I have never felt like I needed to chase them down for an interaction or had to fight for a scrap of their time---which feels like a feat bc Blair has a lot of people scrambling at their door---and I cannot tell you how huge that is. That sounds like a huge sweeping thing to say, I know, but I mean it in all of the little ways too. I could post some stupid bullshit on here; not a starter or a meme just a little random muse thought or observation, and 100% of the time here comes Blair telling me what they think or adding on to it or just...whatever. They're here for both me and my muses for the big and small things, whenever I've asked and, more often than not, when I haven't (or couldn't) and that's incredibly important. It's that kind of stuff that makes what we have special and that's putting it super lightly. And yes, our relationship both as friends and as writers has developed over a long time, and we did click immediately that's true, but there's never been any doubt to cast upon the work and effort both of us have put forth.

And this post isn't to say that I'm demanding constant or immediate attention from you all---because, again, we all have lives, health issues, etc, etc, and all of that takes precedence over a hobby as I've said before and will say again and again---but....put some effort into it when you have the capability. Yes, like the calls that I post or send a meme in, absolutely, but also message me on your own and ask a question or shoot a muse a random prompt or just @ me in a post. Show me some enthusiasm and engagement on your end because right now it feels like I'm doing all the work all of the time and that's tiring. I'm tired of handing stuff to people all of the time---I'll keep doing it, obviously, because I need and want to engage on my end and love throwing stuff at people and providing opportunities---all I'm asking for is understanding and reciprocation.

If you can't reciprocate for whatever reason? Tell me.

If you're unsure about something, no matter what that something is? Tell me.

If you need help or even a specific kind of accommodation in order for us to start interacting or continue interacting? Tell me.

Don't just assume that I don't want to write with you or that you can't ask me for things. Don't assume that I'm being a snob or whatever else just because I seem to be paying attention to a certain mun full time because do you know what that actually is? That's friendship. That's effort. That's me giving back what I've been given. That's me reciprocating the enthusiasm, love and creativity that I've been handed, nothing more. There's nothing unobtainable or gatekeep-y about that either, you just need to be earnest and forthcoming with me and I can assure you that I'll return the favor in kind.))

[omniuravity]

Warnings DARK CONTENT: Contains minor and some major spoilers for American Horror Story: Murder House,attempted suicide, language, smoking, implied sex, murder, blood, drug abuse, mentions of social (specifically school related) violence, horror, hostage situations, manipulation, infidelity, pregnancy, miscarriage, and grief...lots of it

A/n: This is the first fic I have written in 4 years, and I know it's not the best, but I worked really hard and I hope you guys enjoy this. This also takes place after the events of the first season of American Horror Story.

"If you're trying to kill yourself, cut vertically. They can't stitch that up." he said making you jump a little. "How the hell did you get in here?" you ask slightly frightened as your blood dripped down your arm. "Another tip, if you're trying to kill yourself, you might also try locking the door." he said with a slight smirk on his face.

Recently you moved into a house that was home to a lot of murders, hence the house has been dubbed, the "Murder House." Your father was a psychiatrist, and your mother, was a stay at home mom. Your father worked at home, so he could stay close to the family after his infidelity, and your mother's miscarriage. It was strangely similar to the story of the Harmon family, the last family that lived and died in the house before you. You recently started school at Westfield High where you were bullied for simply being the new kid, as well as the fact that you smoked. All of the overwhelming grief caused you to have suicidal thoughts about it all. Then he started showing up. The boy who frightened you had messy indigo hair, and tired purple eyes, as well as a smug expression on his face.

"How did you get into the house?" you asked covering up your arms with your sweater, still a little spooked by the strange boy. "I was in a therapy session with your father, and I decided to wander a bit. You know this used to be my room, before I moved." he said with a slight grin. "That's pretty cool I guess." you say hesitant to trust him. You had heard rumors that every person who lived in this house died in this house except for an old woman named Constance, who died a while back, and Vivien Harmon's son, Michael who had disappeared. However, you didn't believe in ghosts or spirits of any sort.

"I'm Hitoshi." he said introducing himself. You could tell he was trying to make a good impression, "Y/n." you said softly introducing yourself. You quickly came to realize there was something special about this boy, something you couldn't quite explain. He smiled before hearing some rattling upstairs, "I've got to go." he said. You turned away from the mirror to say goodbye, then he was gone.

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"I fucking hate school so much!" you yelled in anguish. You just got home from a huge fight at school, because of a girl teasing you for smoking and being the new kid. "If you're having issues with a bully just kill her." Shinsou said nonchalantly. You looked at him in disbelief, "Are you insane? I can't kill someone." you said. "Then just scare her. Get her to come here and go to the basement, then we can scare her." he said with a smirk.

You look at him again this time with confusion, "And how do you expect me to do that genius?" you ask. He chuckled a little, "You underestimate me, Y/n. Does she do drugs or something?" he asked. You remember her saying something about doing coke. "I think she does coke, but I don't do drugs, so I don't have any here." you say. "Don't worry, you don't need to have it. That's just how you get her here and into the basement. Then I'll take over from there." he said holding your hand, comforting you in a way.

You approached the girl who hurt you the next day, and told her that you had coke for her, and surprisingly after school she came over to get it.

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"Well where are they?" she asked walking down to the basement with you. "I have to keep it down here, you know, so my parents don't find it." you said trying to keep a straight face. When the two of you get down there you see Shinsou in a rocking chair, "Why, hello." he said with a smirk, then all of the sudden the lights went out and he was gone. There were a lot of flashing lights and screaming going on, but you couldn't make out what you saw exactly what you saw in the darkness until it came at you. It was a small pale white creature with sharp teeth, and claws. The girl was on the floor crying in her own blood, though she definitely wasn't dead. Shinsou grabbed you and yelled, "Go away!" at the creature until it was gone and the lights were back on, then Shinsou was gone as well.

The girl quickly got up clutching her cheek, which had deep claw marks in it, "You fucking freak!" she cried as she ran out of the house. When she was gone Shinsou came up behind you who was also spooked from the thing you saw, "Hey, are you okay." he said trying to calm you down. You turned to him, "What the hell was that thing?" you asked. He looked at you confused, "What do you mean y/n? That was just me." he said pretending like he didn't see the creature. You backed away out of his arms, "Don't play with me, what was that thing?" you asked. He held you, "I don't know what you're talking about." he said before taking you back upstairs convincing you that you saw nothing that night.

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Soon Halloween rolled around, and you were ready for your date with Shinsou, despite your father's instant disapproval of his patient dating his only daughter. You got yourself ready for your Halloween date and went out the door with Shinsou. The two of you walked to the beach, and picked out a spot where you could see hundreds of stars, "I used to come here to get away from it all." he said holding your hand, "My mom was constantly cheating on my dad, and my dad was cheating on my mom. One day he just up and left, and it was just me and my mom." he said. You looked at him, over the past couple of months you had grown to fall for him. You cautiously leaned into him and kissed his lips. He was so gentle, and his lips were so soft that you could to this forever. You moved your hand to his crotch, "I wanna do it, please." you said softly. He froze, he knew what would happen if he continued, but he did it anyway. He moved himself on top of you, "Okay."

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He huffed as he pulled out of you, and laid on his back for a moment letting his mind process what the two of you did. You smile at him, "I love you Shinsou." you say softly. He smiled and looked at you, "I love you too, y/n." he said before getting his clothes back on and taking you home.

During the walk back you looked at him, "It was your first time wasn't it?" you asked. He looked at you, "As much as I would like to say yes, it wasn't my first. You?" he asked, and you nodded. He sighed, "Sorry." he said. You looked at him again, "Don't be, I'm glad you were my first." you said.

You got back home and most of the lights were out so you assumed your parents were asleep. He held your hands, "Y/n I want to show you something." he said gently. You nod, "Of course you can show me." you say trusting him. He took you inside into a small crawlspace in the basement. You both soon arrived to an area with a large drop. He shined the flashlight into the hole to reveal something truly horrifying, your dead mangled corpse. You scream loudly and pass out.