#It makes me sad that he has to worry about people possibly blaming some other wrestler for his injury but I get why he feels that way

[thistledropkick]

Despe: (QRTing the video where he explains his knee injury in detail)

Well, it's normal for all wrestlers to be injured to some extent,

...but, now that I think about it, that's an unhealthy thing for me to be saying lol

I wouldn't necessarily say that "my condition is bad" or anything like that, but I don't want anyone to get blamed for my long term absence.

And I don't want some famous blogger to start speculating that I've gone freelance either.

[wherenymphsroam]

don’t say it’s unholy, if I let you come hold me (pt 1)

⟡ -- leon finds you drowning your grief in the back of a bar just outside of town. but don't worry, he won't blow your cover.

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: themes of coping with grief and depression, implied underage drinking and unhealthy coping mechanisms, vendetta leon, leon is just a wee bit morally grey here just due to the point in his life this is staged during, no sex but explicit language, leon is readers dad's coworker/friend, angst - eventual sex

a/n: okay, I've been sitting on this baby for a hot minute just because of how self indulgent it is iaqhdsiuwsjih. I wanted to make this longer before I released it, but I think I'm going to just continue this in parts (and even then, don't hold me to that lol judgwiuhd !!). again, please heed warnings, and if you are uncomfortable with any themes presented, please just don't read!

playlist: unholy (hey violet), disconnect (she wants revenge), discipline (nine inch nails), paralyzer (finger eleven)

You shouldn’t be here.

By all legal and ethical means, morality aside, you should be at the library, studying for a final you know damn well you won’t be passing. Or better yet, at home. Maybe poured over a mug of tea, that blend your mom has made you since you were a kid. Some shitty romcom playing in the background, ignored as you doze off surrounded by papers, scattered around the dining table like any other honorable, dutiful college student. Not some… dingy, shithole bar outside the parameters of your hometown.

(One you know your dad doesn’t frequent with colleagues. One you know is just outside the radius of people that would see you here, know you enough to know you shouldn’t be here.)

Maybe you would be back home right now, studying until you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, if not for what happened. The “would’ve” “could’ve” and “should’ve”s are stacked high in your brain, like a mountain of now unattainable possibilities laid bare, slain by the events of recent nights. Something so chilling, so bone shattering and brain dissolving you just can’t manage to wrap your head around it. 

‘Shock’, right? 

That was the operative term for the numbness that has recently buzzed dully in your limbs, the heaviness of your own weight whenever you roll out of bed every day. The term itself is thrown around so flippantly, so easily outside the walls of a hospital, a clinic. General medical common knowledge be damned, everyone knows what shock is.

'Shock' is being betrayed by your child who marries someone of the same gender, rendering you and your paper thin beliefs meaningless. Generations passed down worth of indoctrination gone moot by one, unholy union. It’s coming home and finding your husband in bed with another woman, that blonde bitch at his front desk. The one he told you not to worry about? Yeah, that one. 

It’s the unspeakable, the unimaginable striking. It’s blinding, horrid in how it leaves you.. Empty. You’re compelled to apologize for its effects on your nervous system.

Sorry guys, I promise I’m sad. I know I don’t look it, I’m taking it out on all this- shit lying around. I’ve been meaning to throw this out for ages you know. Guess I finally have a reason now, huh? No, I don’t know how much sleep I’ve gotten the past week, it’s probably fine. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. That’ll make me feel worse. Now, if you would, let me go finish my manic episode in peace, will you-?

Could you blame this too as to why you finally dug out that fake ID your friends coerced you into agreeing to?

This wasn’t like you, not one bit. I mean, really, sitting in the back of some gnarly bar, surrounded with the sorts of people Daddy always warned you about? The sorts of people that only came out after dark, that hung around till dawn when they would then go back to dwell in whatever crevice of the city they called home until dusk? Maybe this was moms genes catching up with you – the predisposed ones you always knew would come to bite you in the ass. Maybe you should go check your eyes, don’t people's pupils dilate when they’re manic? “Crazy eyes'' those people on Tiktok would call them, right? 

“Unwidin’, huh?”

His voice calls through the air between you like he might’ve well been standing yards away. It takes you a moment longer than maybe appropriate to track his distance, his place at your side at the bartop. Glancing over, you first get a look at his hand, gesturing to the drink in front of you, the cigarette dangling between your fingers. The one that was currently beginning to slip in your weakened grip, speaking of. 

They’re long, nimble. Broad hands, worn at the tips, smooth along the meat of his palms. Even under the hazy atmosphere surrounding you, you can make out the glint of the watch up his sleeve – probably expensive, if the quality of the leather of his jacket sleeve has anything to say about it. Look at you. Even buzzed like this, you were spotting the finer details. A daddy’s girl with daddy’s tolerance.

Despite yourself, you nod numbly, head heavy on the bracket of your neck. A sign directly arguing with the idea of your tolerance – or rather, lack thereof – but it can't be as noticeable as your brain is attempting to trick you into believing, right?

Leon settles into the stool next to you, and you don’t so much as cast him a proper glance. Maybe that’s why he finds himself sitting down. You looked out of place, like a damn kicked puppy with your head drowning in a few shots worth in the back of this bar. It was a wonder no one else had approached you up till this point, especially given the time of night. It was hard not to feel like your guardian angel. 

“We both know this ain’t the healthiest way to do it.” He says as he flags the bartender down.

Touche, mystery man. 

Well, alright. Technically you knew the guy. You vaguely recognized him as one of Dad’s colleagues through the haze of your buzz. It was too sweet to interrupt, you find yourself completely unfazed in the face of the inevitable consequences that would come from your fathers colleague finding you here.

If anything, you couldn’t complain.

His voice was nice. Beyond “nice” actually. If you were any more wasted, you’d take him for a certain type of actor. More specifically, the ones you listen to late at night. The ones that speak to you behind pseudonyms and expensive microphones, nestled into crevices of the internet any mentally stable person wouldn’t dream of wandering into.  

You know better than to entertain that thought for more than a few seconds, even despite the dregs of nicotine floating through your blood coaxing you towards such a mental image. 

Finally, you brave a glance over your shoulder at him. He’s pretty. Real pretty. How are you only just noticing how sharp his eyes are? They look darker under this bar's lighting, that typically professional, almost playful glint in his gaze nowhere to be found. It had been a few years since you’d last seen him… maybe it was age finally starting to jade him.

Not that you knew the specifics. He was easily older than you by a decade and some change. And clearly all too happy to bypass all niceties in this situation. Damn. Did you look that bad? He was pretty enough to be an angel, but that didn’t mean he had to act like one. Maybe he felt bad for you. Maybe he had a better head sitting on his shoulders than a better half of the people in here. 

A huff of soft breath leaves through your nose, tendrils of smoke swirling out of your system with the action. Shaking your head, you dip it, taking another long drag from your quickly burning cigarette, an excuse to try and string together some sort of response that won’t make an ass out of you. Or actually, anything that didn’t scream “you’re hot and I don’t know how to conduct myself around good natured, attractive men” would do just fine. Those damn eyes of his… it was a mistake, letting your gazes lock. His eyes alone were enough to make your stomach flip. 

“Well,” you mutter, not daring to look back at him. “This is better than my plan b for the night.” 

You don’t so much as flinch when the bartender comes over, taking an order he murmurs in a tone you want spoken against the shell of your ear from behind. Your periphery catches the actions of the bartender pouring his order into a short glass, bronze in color.

Whiskey. Of course.

Reaching for the middle of the table, you stub your cigarette in a conveniently placed ashtray. Sure, you were a little fucked up in a way you’ve never been before tonight, but you had manners. 

Meanwhile, Leon is doing what he does best. Observing. He tries his best not to make it obvious how he watches your hand wobbles when you lift it. He watched the subtle change in your expression when he called to you, how your head bobbed when he sat down. Anyone else would be paying attention to how quickly you recoiled with the action, as if self conscious of your dragged reaction time. However, he had spotted the tension in your slouched shoulders. A reaction rooted in self preservation, a fear of judgment. It was enough to tell him just how many shots you probably had in your system. 

He was no stranger to girls like you, ‘situations’ such as the one he was currently sitting next to.

It was a familiar, cliche dance – the unspoken, drowning struggles of a near stranger on display, insecurities risen to the surface like hemorrhaged blood under thinned skin. It was written all over you. You were scrappy, worn paper, and he was the storm settling overhead. Baring your weariness and struggle and strife to his blind eye, painting you transparent. He could see right through you. You were running from something. Likely attempting to drown, bury it somewhere deep if not for just a night or so. 

“‘Plan B’?” he questions, tone calm, even almost lighthearted. It betrays his sharp gaze, perceptive and on guard as ever. As if he were approaching an injured doe in the wild. Not that he’s done much hunting lately. He’s found that meat off the streets bleeds more freely than the skin of doe’s and rabbits does in present times. 

A wry smile tugs at your lips, almost as if you figured he’d press the topic. It was already too much to ask that he didn’t mention your connection to his coworker, how Leon knew you were definitely not supposed to be somewhere like this, and he had managed to uphold that silent prayer.

Maybe your otherwise handicapped condition was blurring whatever lines that stood between you right now, the lines that constructed what he should be doing, finding you here without a legitimate ID.  He should be outing you to the bartender, dragging you out of this place by the scruff of your neck with your dad dialed into his phone.

He shouldn’t be… entertaining you, right? Could you go so far as to call his complacent presence.. Encouragement?

Taking a seat beside you, joining you in your mission to drown your ache, your pain. Keeping you calm under his gaze, as if a sedative rolled off him in gentle waves. His throat bobs around his sip of whiskey, and you can’t help how your gaze lingers on the action. 

“Plan B consisted of finding someone to fuck me into next week,” you mutter dryly, as if the admission of your half hearted ‘plans’ for tonight left a sour taste in even your mouth. It wasn’t who you were. This wasn’t what you did. For fucks sake, you weren’t even supposed to have gotten this far, knee deep in an actively self destructive decision. But life sure did have one hell of a way of knocking you one hundred eighty degrees in the other direction, didn’t it?

No. That’s an excuse. A shitty one, at that. It's an excuse you've heard your dad mutter under his breath when he slouches into the couch with a beer in hand.

This is a poor choice, and you knew this was a poor choice. And yet, that didn’t stop you from walking your happy ass into this bar, nose up and full of talked up confidence you poured into yourself in the parking lot. No amount of tugging and pulling and pleading your guilty conscience did on your brain would stop you, not this time. You knew that getting into an Uber to haul you outside the lines of town would seal your fate to the whims of this bar. How classy. 

If Leon was a worse man, he’d take your words at face value. (Or maybe he’s just damned with all that thorough training he’s been rung through. It’s practically impossible not to read people nowadays. Even alcohol has ceased to debilitate him of this begrudgingly equipped set of skills that was all but pummeled into him.) 

His gaze wavers. Flickers, almost with a wash of amusement for a moment. You were trying oh so hard, taking that clipped, short tone with him, all but puffing your chest with this aura of  mental toughness you likely wanted to think you had. It was cute, really. But oh, the lacing of desperation in your tone... The sweet vulnerability in your breath… every hairline fracture your already cracking front is bleeding. 

He doesn’t have to be a bloodhound to want to dig for more. He just can’t help himself. 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb’ing :^)

[chaifootsteps]

if you have time and feel like getting frustrated, the comments on this thread are certainly a read: https://www.reddit.com/r/HelluvaBoss/comments/1gsa0nr/after_episode_10_i_think_blitz_is_ready_to/

to run it down quickly:

someone immediately points out Blitzo did apologize several times while Stolas never has

comments saying it's a good time to switch to see what Stolas is up to because he'll totally have become a better person by now, right? right?

comments like 'well it's been a month wth has Stolas been doing the whole time?'

comments implying it's on Blitzo to sit Stolas down and explain exactly where he screwed up, because holding him to account went so well last time with Mr 'I don't look down you! how many times - I'm not going to ask for examples and instead just racistly compare you to Striker' and Stolas is a three year old who can't be expected to do any thinking of his own

multiple comments along the lines of saying Stolas doesn't think he did anything wrong, is delululu, he suspects he did something wrong, he's open to the possibility that he did something wrong - I just don't get how anyone thinks Stolas is sympathetic or even likable at this point?? he's been told straight up to stop doing something before and ignored it, told he's upset Blitzo before and ignored it. how much more evidence do viewers need that their sweet sensitive boi is actually a selfish void of empathy? how do they still have the patience to believe he'll ever hold himself to account for anything when the entire season has been built to say he's not responsible and is just very sad and misunderstood? when there's quite literally a shot in the trailer implying he gets exactly what he wants - to make Blitzo his knight whether he likes it or not? if this were any other character there'd be endless essays about how much they suck and how abusive they are

someone falsely claiming "Blitz will still blame himself for being the one who came up with this whole deal" - uh, no he literally didn't?? Stolas did that.

someone else saying 'Stolas did nothing wrong' then being reminded he did, going back and watching s1 and remembering that he did used to be classist (kind of worrying that Viv's retconning is working on some fans tbh)

someone implying it's Blitzo and Verosika's fault for giving him different ideas about who was wrong like it's their fault Stolas went to Anti Blitzo party he said was childish and petty and would never go to. he could have stayed home and got blind drunk there instead

people pointing out that the rest of IMP messed up too by not using disguises so they should all be on the hook for it, not just Blitzo (not holding my breath for anything but the gang being like 'this is all your fault!' if Viv wrote those ones though) - this one makes me a little sad tbh, it's obvious Blitzo has no hope of getting any grace from Stolas but we already know he sucks. the writing on IMP is so inconsistent it's gonna be sad if his family threaten to leave him over a business plan that all three of them were all in on, too, just to pile on the Blitzo misery again

It's been crazy to see the subreddit, where the narrative is so tightly controlled, waking up little by little. They've still got a ways to go, but it's pretty astounding to see it happening at all, and being allowed to happen.

[ynsvnte]

Between the space — Lee Heeseung

Genre: angst, friends to strangers, unrequited love, wc: 970 , warnings: crying, pairing: bsf!hee x gn!reader

Masterlist

Late at night, sitting down minding your own business. Just you lost in your thoughts, like usual. Your little bubble will burst when a voice speaks up.

“Hey what’s on your mind..?” The voice said you look up and see your best friend, Heeseung. You lower your head and speak.

“Nothing..just got distracted..” you said. He didn’t buy your words. Something was clearly wrong. “No. I don’t believe it.” Heeseung says as he sits right next to you. You look at heeseung before sighing. “Look I’m okay, don’t worry.” You spoke softly. “No yn, I know when you’re not okay. I’ve been your best friend for years.” ‘Yeah best friends…nothing more..’ you thought to yourself. “Yeah..but some things are better left unsaid..”

“And..what do you mean by that..?” Heeseung was now getting curious.. “Don’t worry about it, besides you wouldn’t want to know anyway.” Your words made him laugh, but still curious. He wanted to know what you meant by that. Unsaid?? What's the worst thing that happened..right.. Definitely what Heeseung but not you. Your relationship status wasn’t complicated. Maybe if heeseung..liked you..he did but in a friendly way.

Your feelings for him were strong, growing up with him for almost all your life. You gained feelings like most people would. Heeseung didn’t…or so you thought. Heeseung liked, LIKED. Teenager Heeseung had the fattest crush, but later he only saw you as a friend and not as a crush anymore. Of course he would never tell you that he had liked you. You on the other hand, those feelings never changed. Your younger self promised to always like him. Now..maybe you can’t keep that promise to younger you. You tried to move on before..but that was useless. Look at you now,.. so foolishly in love with someone you know that wouldn’t return those exact same feelings. That’s you’ve been trying to avoid him like the plague. The longer you were around. The more certain you would never lose feelings.

Heeseung has been very open about his love interest. A fellow classmate of his..you knew she was one of the prettiest girls you ever seen..and you can’t blame him for liking her.

“You know we haven’t been talking that much…” Heeseung spoke up. You only nodded your head, choosing not to verbally respond. “Is there any reason for that..?” He asked you. You only stared at the ground pretending to not hear him. You of course did. And heeseung also knew you heard him. “Look, don’t ignore me, I know you heard my question..” You became flushed.

“F-fine..there is but I rather not say..” you were slightly embarrassed..not wanting to expose your true feelings for him and ruining your friendship. “And why not..does it have to do with me..?” You could only nod your head. You hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions, but luck wasn’t on your side. “Did I do something wrong..?” No..no you didn’t, you wanted to tell him. But you couldn’t find the courage to actually tell him. You sighed and finally looked up, making eye contact.. “you did nothing wrong..more like I did..” You spoke..voice almost slightly cracking…

“What could you possibly have done wrong because all I know is that you're a good kid..” He wasn’t lying, you were never a troublemaker in school, just always decided to mind their own business. “It’s not that..heeseung it’s more complicated..” More complicated..? Heeseung was now confused.. he thought you were speaking nonsense at one point.

“Heeseung..look..I-i like you okay..and I know you don’t like me back..” Oh… you were still making eye contact with him..but soon enough your vision was becoming blurry. You were crying. Heeseung hated seeing you cry. It made him sad. But right now he was feeling shocked..more than sad. His childhood friend has a crush on him..he feels bad truthfully..for not being able to return to the same feelings..

‘C'mon please say something..’ you thought to yourself. You are already embarrassed by crying in front of him and knowing you would get rejected. Heeseung looked down for a quick second before speaking up. “Yn..I’m sorry..but yeah..I’m sorry..” heeseung was at a loss of words himself. He didn’t know what to say. You sob a bit harder making heeseung pull you into a hug, trying to comfort you. Just like the old days..when your young love existed, but that’s far too late.. and you’ll always blame yourself for it. You pull away from the hug and stand up..

“Don’t apologize I expected it..especially when you like y’know..” Heeseung only nodded his head at your words. “I wish it didn’t end this way..but I don’t think I can continue being friends with you..” your next sentence shocked heeseung. What do you mean? All of those years of your guy’s friendship is now being thrown out. “Huh? Yn please tell me you're joking.." Now Heeseung was close to crying. He may not have liked you in a romantic way but he still loved you and cared for you. You were his best friend and he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“I’m not..heeseung if i continue being friends with you my feelings are only going to grow stronger..then why did I try to avoid you..?” Your words made sense..you were avoiding him and now that he knows you try feelings about him. You only did it for his happiness, but you not being his friend anymore was not happy. Heeseung begged you. But you wouldn’t budge. You only apologized.

“Heeseung..I’m sorry..but thank you..I’ll still love you from afar of course..” and with that you walked away.

And that’s how the friendship ended…

Author’s note: I had trouble trying to figure out the main plot for this Drabble umm third-ish attempt at angst it sucks I know I promise to get better (I hope) anyways love you all mwah

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[beautifulpersonpeach]

A Rant.

A lot of you have sent me asks about how JK's solo promotions isn't the same as Jimin's and other BTS members, about JK's rumoured all-English album, about BTS doing payola (you can read my views 4th paragraph from the bottom), about how HYBE has apparently destroyed the BTS OT7 agenda...

I don't want to answer y'all for two reasons:

Perhaps some of you are newer followers, but I can only repeat myself so many times. Don't you get bored of hearing me say the same thing over and over again? /gen

I don't share the apprehension, worry, or appetite for speculation and theorizing that I'm seeing from many people on Tumblr and Twitter.

It's very possible I'm the one in La La Land and you all have good reason to be concerned. But the way I see it, a lot of hysteria is being driven by two things: (1) a very myopic pov, as though the time between June 2022 and December 2025 is the most defining period of BTS's solo careers, as though this is the best and only time for any member to make a move, leave their mark, and thrive. And that BTS/BigHit is working on the same timeline.

(2) All these conversations are being driven by people who have brought that toxic hyper-competitive feature of k-pop, inwards, into the group, and now see the members as direct competition in the narrowest and most reductive sense possible.

And I just don't relate.

I don't feel sad for Hobi on how his solo roll-out was 'sabotaged' relative to Jimin's, I don't feel angry for Joon on how his roll-out compared to JK's, I don't feel confused at JK possibly having a full English album, if anything I'm even more excited by how he's pushing himself and I think it suits him given his pronunciation is one of the best in BTS. I know he'll be more involved than with Seven given how long he's been working on his album, I just hope he doesn't sacrifice depth in his artistic and lyrical expression for a shallow, wider reach.

In my very honest opinion.

When BTS talk about wanting to be together for a really really long time, I wonder if people have sat down to really think about what that looks like. Because maybe it's just me, but I don't think it makes sense for a company/group that has operated like BigHit/BTS, to shove their grandest plans for seven individuals into a ~3 year window. Right now, it's JK getting the push, he's been very vocal and consistent about his solo ambitions for the last 4 years, and I'm glad he's getting this shot.

Also,

While I feel BigHit has become bloated and inefficient, the boys are still capable handling their affairs and I feel very comfortable not having all the answers for a business and career that isn't mine.

I have my opinions about how things could be done differently, and I think if people want to voice their dissatisfaction to the company that's obviously fine, but I don't feel sadness, anger, or pity for any of the guys in BTS in Chapter 2. Not for my biases, not for Jungkook, and certainly not for Jimin. And it's getting tedious repeating my unpopular sanctimonious opinions to people who have already made up their minds and really ought to be more honest with themselves.

Speaking of Jimin, it continues to amuse me how the top group of people who just do nawt rate this man, is his solos. It's like dejavu for the discourse around OSTs circa 2018 - 2021 all over again. PJMs complaining about how BigHit was holding him back from doing OSTs, just for Jimin to say he wasn't interested at the time. Or how in 2022 people were fretting in my inbox about how only Jimin hadn't done any solo work/promotions yet and I would put out gentle reminders about how he operates and his tendency to leapfrog the rest when he's ready, then we started getting the producer pics.

Jimin has always been a 'bigger picture' kind of guy so how can anyone blame me for not taking this latest outcry seriously when that man continues to do what he's always done: work in silence, and wow with the result.

(Does anyone really think a man with no plans would be airborne every 2 weeks, and that a company with no desire to market him would be paying for and managing those plans?)

Not to be dismissive of people who wanted a stronger American push for Jimin's debut, while I agree he would've benefitted from a more targeted push, I genuinely think Jimin has always been better suited for Europe anyway.

I mean, look at him.

*

Anon from yesterday said they envisioned Jungkook doing a song/video like Troye Sivan's Rush... I didn't comment on it yesterday, but Anon, personally, I've never seen Jungkook as capable of making a song like that. Jungkook will never make anything like that. The only person in BTS who has the range for that sort of provocation and subtext, is Jimin. And the market that will fully embrace that sort of art isn't America, it's Europe. In my opinion.

We'll see what his plans are.

Anyway, I'm not sure how more tactfully I can say this, but my blog isn't the place to be if you feel some type of way about seeing Jungkook succeed like this relative to your bias, if you think his promotion and success is at the expense of your bias, and so on. It's not even that I care about some vague OT7 ideal, it's that while I understand the anger and heightened emotions a lot of you feel, I just cannot relate to it. And it won't be enjoyable for either of us if you come to me with asks about it because we think very differently about the group and our relation to BTS.

You can mark this post to revisit in 6 months so we can compare notes.

[lisacomeuseucu]

Curses pt2

• Fear Street. 1978 - "I swear, if I could I would change their story, I would try to make them live" That's what she said to herself.

It's been three days since I arrived at the camp, I've been getting along with the main ones, especially Tommy and Ziggy, they're the people I get along with the most, Ziggy a day later came after me to thank me for saying those things to Sheila, but I said I just told her what she deserves. I'm helping some children with some drawings they're doing but I'm going to leave soon, I'm next to the chubby boy with glasses, I feel embarrassed for having forgotten his name but as he doesn't appear much in the film itself it was easy for me to erase him from my memory, the important thing is that I know the true focus of the story, I come out of my thoughts and look at the boy's drawing, his drawing is childish but very detailed, he made two drawings symbolizing Shadyside and Sunnyvale, which I genuinely find incredible, I come close and I crouch at his height. — " I loved your drawing! It would be a great idea for each city to have its own symbol. " I say to him with a big smile on my face, it's not the first time I've praised the things he does, it's sad that in the movie Don't show too much of his talent, he can be very intelligent in various activities, the boy gives a shy smile and looks at the drawing again, I noticed that his cheeks are pink, poor boy, he's a little shy. I leave the cabin and look around, children are running everywhere, I have to remember where Tommy is, I start to walk through the camp observing the details, children practicing archery, others are swimming in the lake, some children are playing hide and seek and others with their own games, from the corner of my eye I see Alice walking with her boyfriend, I start walking towards them, — "Alice! Where are you going?" I ask her, making the blonde turn to me, — " We're going after drugs in the infirmary, you better not tell anyone! " She points a finger in my direction and I make the zipper gesture over my mouth. — " Do you know where Tommy is? ". — " He must be doing homework with our perfect Cindy, why do you want to know about him? " She asks me, leaving me surprised, why do I want to see him? I stutter a little before responding. — " He's my friend, I want to talk to him. " I respond shyly as I start to scratch the back of my neck, Alice responds with an eye roll and goes back to walking with her boyfriend, I start walking back the cabin to see how the drawings are going when I bump into two people, Tommy and Cindy, both of them were hugging each other, — " Damn, sorry! I hadn't seen you, I was distracted, anyway, I was looking for you. Really sorry. I'm really sorry." I say with my hand on top of my chest, Cindy shakes her head in denial with a slight smile. — " It's okay, just be careful where you go. " She answers me gently. — " Why were you looking for us? " Tommy suddenly asks me. — " I wanted to spend some time with you, are you going to do anything? " I start to exchange glances from Tommy to Cindy, afraid of disturbing them. — "We're going to clean the cafeteria but if you want, you can accompany us." Cindy suggests with amusement, I quickly shake my head in agreement. — "They were very close to each other, I hope I didn't disturb any special moment." I make a sarcastic comment to try to liven up the atmosphere, Tommy laughs and then responds. — "Don't worry, you didn't disturb anything.". — "If I had gotten in the way, I would have been blaming myself all day." I answer him, smiling.

— " Miss Y/n! " I turn back when my name is called, I look down and find the same boy I praised, he has a paper in his hand. — "Ah! Hi! How can I help you?" I asked him with a gentle smile, he hands me the paper and then leaves as quickly as possible, leaving me completely confused. — "What was that?" Cindy asks me, I look at him in a daze and answer. — " II don't know... I wasn't expecting that. " I look at the paper in my hands and notice the drawing of a heart and my name written on it, — " Damn, you received a love letter! " Tommy says with a small laugh, Cindy looks at him in surprise, I start to open the paper seeing that there is a text for me to read. “Councillor Y/n, these last few days you've been making me nervous and with butterflies in my stomach, I think I've fallen in love with you, I think you're very pretty and friendly, I like being in your company. I understand that we are different ages but I still want to know if you want to be my girlfriend, Miss Y/n. " My eyes widen with each word I read out loud, Cindy is in complete shock while Tommy has an amused smile on his face, — " H/n did I receive a letter?! " I am startled by the sudden appearance of Alice in front of me, the blonde takes the paper from my hands and starts reading it, I get up and go towards her to get the letter back but she avoids it, meanwhile Tommy is having a fit of laughter as Cindy orders him to stop.

— " What are you going to do? Write another letter to the boy? " Alice asked ironically, — " No! I'm going to go after him and talk to him!! " I take the letter tightly, and put it in the pocket of my shorts, I look at it. them making an irritated face — " They shouldn't be laughing at him! It was cute, I think it's his first crush. " I scold them but I look at the floor, Cindy nods and starts talking — " She's right It's not right to make fun of us, we should talk to him and explain that we can't be together." She says looking at all of us, Alice just rolls her eyes while Tommy starts to nod, he looks like a dog always agreeing with its owner. Arnie has a smile on his face, trying to hold back his laughter, I start walking, leaving the place and looking for the boy. I've been looking for him for a few minutes now, luckily he signed his name on the paper, Jeremy, I'm sorry kid but his name is very easy to forget. I'm looking everywhere looking for him and so far I haven't found him, I think I'd better try to find him again in the cabin. The cabin is silent which means there is no one in it, for now, even so I enter, a silence cannot stop the boy from hiding here.

— "Jeremy? Are you here?" I call him to see if he appears, little by little I see half of his head appearing, he is hiding under the table, heading towards where the boy is, who is sitting on the floor hugging legs, an attitude that I believe is to hide my shame, I sit next to him looking at him, waiting for him to say something but nothing, ten seconds of silence that seem like hours. I sigh, preparing myself for what I'm going to say. — " I read your letter, I'm not mad at you, I don't want you to worry about it. " I start, Jeremy is already looking at me looking a little relieved. — " I understand you like me and are happy when I compliment you but I can't date you. " Jeremy quickly changes the direction of his gaze and starts looking at the ground. — " Jeremy, look at me. " I ordered, it took a few seconds before he looked at me again. — "I'm much older than you, it would be wrong on both sides, but I'm sure you'll find a girl your age that you'll be together with. Friends, ok?" I opened my arms, offering him a hug, Jeremy nodded in agreement and snuggled into my arms, I patted his head as a way of comforting him. — "Now let's get out of here, we'll be called to the cafeteria soon." I say while breaking the hug and standing up.

The day went by quickly, we went to the cafeteria and as soon as I sat down with the group they asked me what the whole conversation resulted in, I didn't expect them to ask all together at the same time, making me almost fall out of fright, I answered them summarizing everything I had said. It happened but the important thing was that everything had worked out in the end but Joan caught me by surprise asking me if I expected the letter to be from someone else.

— " But did you expect or expect to receive the letter from someone? Some boy? " For a moment paralyzed without any response, I was looking at the table but when I heard the question my eyes quickly went towards it. — "Well, you didn't tell us if there is any interest in anyone here at the camp, but if you don't want to tell us, that's fine! There's no need, right Joan?" Cindy tries to reassure me and discreetly threaten Joan, she rolls her eyes, we continue. putting herbs on a paper so he could smoke it, Tommy and Gary are silent but I can tell from their exchange of looks that they are both curious. My thoughts are racing, I didn't expect to receive a love letter, especially from a boy younger than me, but this doubt is in my head. Is there someone I want to receive something romantic from? It's really stupid that I start to have feelings for someone here mainly because of the end of the story, I certainly wouldn't receive a loving face from Kurt and I don't even want them to give me money! Alice certainly doesn't, she's dating, Ziggy doesn't either, much less Nick, Joan just wants to sit on Kurt, Gary, well... Probably not but if she did I'd reject it, Cindy I wouldn't be surprised but I know she has feelings for Alice, poor Tommy. Lastly, he was left, Tommy, the idea of ​​him writing a letter to me sounds cute, I don't think it would happen, now if I would reject it... I don't know... I really have no idea.

A hand starts to pass in front of my face, making me jump in fright, I look at the owner of the hand and see that it's Tommy. — " Are you okay? You've been quiet for a long time looking at the table, I started to think I was seeing something on it. " Tommy asks me worriedly but tries to make me laugh, I let out a weak laugh. — " Yes, yes, I am, I just started thinking about the question. " I answer him, making him less worried. — "Hey? Do you already have an answer?" Joan asks me, Cindy kicked her legs making her let out a low "There!". — " Well, I don't think so, no one has caught my attention like that yet. " I try to formulate the best possible answer without it seeming like I'm trying to hide something, and I'm really not, Joan just shakes her head, I don't think he believes it a lot on me. I took a quick look to the side, I see that Tommy has a strange expression on his face, perhaps disappointment? I don't know, but his reaction wasn't one of the best, meanwhile Cindy just gave me a smile in response .

Now it's night and I'm lying in bed in my cabin, Tommy's reaction stays in my head, was he disappointed with my response? Why would he be disappointed? What if he wasn't disappointed? Was he mad? Do you think I lied? I don't understand you Tommy, sometimes your reactions are confusing, other than that you are a good friend, a great friend. Sometimes I wonder a little about your past, who were you before all those events? Who are you really? Your parents or if you have a brother, if they had talked about you in the films I would have been interesting. Leaving my thoughts, I get up from my bed and go look for some pajamas to put on, before I can get any clothes I hear the sound of someone knocking on the door, I imagine it's Alice coming after me wanting some drugs. — " Get out Alice! I have nothing! " I say in a good tone so that the person on the other side can hear, — " It's me! Tommy! " I hear a male voice answering me, I stop going through my things and look towards the door that has a small glass window and in it I could see Tommy's face, a boy who is normally always smiling and happy is different, his expression on his face is one of seriousness and sadness? Sadness is not the best word.

I walk towards the door and open it for Tommy, giving him space to enter, Tommy enters keeping his head down, he is wearing a red plaid sweater. He sits on my bed and lifts his head looking towards me who is still at the door. When I close the door, I go to my bed, sitting next to Tommy, I wait for him to start talking and then he starts. — " I'm sorry I came so suddenly, I needed to talk to someone. " He says while looking at the floor of the room, his voice sounds serious, I put my hand on his shoulder and answer him — " It's okay, Tommy, something happened?" I'm worried about the subject of this conversation, I don't know what will come out of it and that scares me, it scares me a lot. Tommy takes his eyes off the floor and looks at me. — " Lately I've been feeling these confused feelings and I can't understand them, I can't understand myself! You know those moments when you realize it's supposed to be like this? I wanted to know how you know it's supposed to be like this, like you can you know?" Tommy explains the situation he is in, he was waving his hands and stuttering as he tries to explain, he is nervous, he looks into my eyes in search of an answer. I take my hand off his shoulder and place it on his cheek, stroking it. — "When you know, you know. I've had this same question thousands of times and I didn't know an answer either, but after a long time I understood, when it's supposed to be, you'll know." They watch me carefully, their gauze is softer than when they entered here. — " I understand, thanks for telling me. " He smiles, that same sweet smile he always has. — " Don't thank me. " I smile back at him, a deep exchange of glances begins to happen, our eyes never leaving each other, just looking deep into each other's soul, his eyes are like a deep sea in which I love to stay observing. Tommy comes close to me and hugs me tightly, I hug him even tighter, I smell his perfume on his plaid blouse. — " You better go before they find us and they think we're doing something stupid. " I whisper in his ear, I feel his body shaking with laughter, he lets go of me and nods and gets up heading towards the door but Before he can leave him looks at me. — "See you tomorrow." He says with a smile on his face, — "See you tomorrow." I respond, I see him leave my room and walk to his chalet. Maybe I'm just a little, a little bit, in love, but I hope not.

It's morning and I'm at the infirmary door, I sigh before opening the door. — " Infirmary Lane?! " I call out her name looking for the woman, I see her appear in the hallway after my call, — " Hi y/n, how can I help you? " The nurse asks me kindly with a smile on her face, — "I think I need a doctor." I say a little nervously, the nurse changes her expression to one of confusion. — " I'm not a doctor but I think I can help you, what happened? " She leads me to the stretcher room and makes me sit on one of them. — "My symptoms aren't that simple, no. I feel butterflies in my stomach, my hands get sweaty, I'm always distracted in my thoughts, I feel hot as if I have a fever." I answer her while fidgeting with my hands nervously, the nurse lets out a laugh which makes me look into her eyes. — " My diagnosis is that you're in love. " I raise my eyebrows in surprise, I admit that I thought it could be that but I don't want to believe it, I can't let myself be a fool. — " Is there no way to reverse it? " I ask her, making her laugh again. — No, but I recommend you find out who the boy is. " She responds with a gentle smile on her face, taking my hands and squeezing them gently so they don't hurt, I just nod my head. As I leave the ward I come face to face with Tommy talking to one of the children, noticing my figure he automatically smiles and waves his hand. Oops! I think I'm sick again.

[kteezy997]

The Other Man - Part Nine//t.c.

warnings: cursing, toxic ex behavior, mention of physical violence, mention of bruises and blood, gun violence ((mature 18+ readers only))

You didn't hear from Timmy for a couple of days. It felt like deja vu from the game night with Billy. Neither event had been your fault or Timmy's, but both of them had separated you.

You had returned to work and tried to focus on that, but Billy hadn't stopped trying to contact you. You completely ignored him, but he still didn't let up. You blocked his number and hoped that would be the ending of Billy's existence in your life. You did worry that he might find you or show up at the house. You didn't know what would happen if that occurred. You didn't know what he wanted to do or what he was capable of.

"y/n, you've got a phone call." your coworker called out to you.

"Oh," you said, terrified that it might be your ex-husband on the line, "is it a man?"

"No, it's some lady."

"Okay?" you took the work phone from them and put it to your ear, wondering who it could be. "Hello?"

"Y/n? This is Amelia."

"Amelia? Why are you calling my workplace?"

"I didn't have your cell number or any other way to contact you, sorry. I just...wanted to know if we could talk?"

You sat down at a desk, prepared to hear anything that this woman had to say. This conversation could alter your entire life. There was a possibility that you'd be a stepmother for the rest of your life. "Sure." you said.

"Oh, great." her voice sounded sad, but she came across as genuine, " I just wanna start out by saying that I'm so sorry for the other night: intruding like I did. Timmy was right, he made no promises to me, he never showed any romantic interest in me. It was all on my end. I feel so stupid about it all now."

"I understand. You seemed to really care for him. Our feelings can make us do some crazy things." you responded. You wanted to come out and say something along the lines of 'Bitch are you really pregnant? Is it even Timmy's?' But you didn't want to press the issue. You decided to let her give you information at her own pace so she wouldn't hold anything back.

"Yeah, it really does. About that: I have to admit something awful to you."

Your heart sank. She could say anything in the world, and it had the power to determine what your future would look like. You were so afraid that she would take Timmy away from you, whether he was willing or not.

"What is it?" you asked her, nearly trembling.

You heard her gulp through the phone. It was obvious that she was nervous. "I lied about the pregnancy. The ultrasound I showed Timothee was a copy of my sister's. She's having a baby, I'm not."

"Are you fucking crazy?" you blurted out, feeling the blood pumping through your veins. You didn't feel any relief, not yet.

"Yes, in that moment, I was." she admitted, "It doesn't make it right, but I was in love with him. I was out of my mind in love and all I could think about was getting him to love me back. I thought that if I told him I was going to have his baby, he'd want to be with me."

You sighed. This woman was mad. But that is what love can do to people. They can act out in ways that they normally would not. Hell, love had made you cheat on your husband. Perhaps Amelia suffered from this particular madness. She wasn't herself when she told her lie. Oh, your poor Timmy.

"Anyway, um, I won't go on about that anymore. I won't waste your time any longer than needed. So, Timmy has gone to talk to the PR teams. I told him we can just cancel the whole contract. I told him everything and he wants nothing to do with me, and I definitely don't blame him. So, I'm giving it all up, the whole fake relationship. I think he's in love with you anyways."

"Okay. Thank you for calling me."

"Yeah, of course. I just wanted you to know the truth. And I want Timmy to be happy. I'm such a bad person for what I just put him through." Amelia's voice broke.

"Hey, Amelia, you're not a bad person." You couldn't help but empathize with her. You yourself were no saint. Amelia deserved the hurt she was feeling, and she deserved to lose the friendship she had with Timmy, but she wasn't evil, you could tell. "Just...be better. Learn from your mistakes. And take care of yourself, okay?"

She sniffled, "Yeah, thank you, y/n. I can see why he loves you. Goodbye."

"Bye Amelia."

After work, you called Timmy, and it rang several times before it went to voicemail. You figured he was busy, so you left him a voicemail message, telling him to call you as soon as he could and that you missed him.

A couple of hours went by without any word from Timmy. You called him again, and still no answer. You started to worry. Yes, you wanted him to have space, but it still wasn't like him to not answer you after about an hour or so. Two days had gone by since you'd seen him and you now knew the truth about the Amelia situation, so you thought maybe he was ready to let you in.

You decided to go to his place. There was no answer when you knocked. Now you were scared. Did something happen? Did he pick up and leave for some reason? Was your love story over?

Your phone rang and you felt so incredibly relieved seeing Timmy's name flashing on the caller ID.

"Timmy?!" you answered, "Are you okay, baby?"

"Oh hey, baby." you knew that voice, and it was not the voice of the man you loved.

"Billy, what the fuck have you done to him?!"

"Oh, don't worry hon, your fuck buddy is just fine. A little beat up, but nothing too bad. His pretty little face might heal up okay." Billy's voice was chillingly calm when he talked about the harm he'd done.

"God damn it, tell me where the fuck you are right now, asshole!"

"Oh sweetheart, I'm at our happy home. Ya know, the place where you and your boyfriend committed adultery."

"Fuck!" you ran to your car, not even bothering with the seatbelt and sped off to your house. You called the police and told them there was an intruder in your home, and he had your boyfriend as a hostage.

"Timmy!" you yelled as you entered the house, not waiting for the police to get there. You had no idea what kind of shape he was really in, so you had to act fast before it was potentially too late.

"Upstairs, y/n." called out Billy.

You wanted to kill him.

You ran upstairs, finding them in your bedroom. Timmy was bound to a chair, duct tape covering his mouth. You could see bruises on his face and his nose was bleeding. "Billy you son of a bitch!" You could smell some strong body odor and alcohol. There was an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. You could tell that Billy had been on a bender and hadn't showered or stopped drinking for awhile.

"Pretty talk for a whore." he spat the hateful words at you.

It was then that you noticed the gun in his hand. "Shit, Billy, don't do anything you're going to seriously regret. You've bitched me out, you beat him up, so just stop it there. You've gotten your revenge. No need to take it any further." you trembled, tears filling your eyes. You did your best to maintain a soothing voice in an attempt to calm Billy down.

"No, no. You two have sinned. And for that, you should die!" he screamed, breathing heavily.

The cops are coming, you kept thinking to yourself. The cops are coming. Just keep him talking. Just a little longer.

You looked over at Timmy, he was quiet, but groaning softly and it was muffled through the duct tape. Your heart broke seeing him worn down and completely defenseless. What had Billy put him through? And for how long?

Billy then raised the gun, pointing it straight at Timmy.

Timmy clenched his eyes shut.

You cried, "Billy! No! Please don't!"

"Yeah?" he cocked the gun, not moving, "And why not?"

"Billy, it was wrong: what we did." you tried to keep calm, but it didn't really work, your heart was racing, and tears were running down your face. "I know it was. And I'm sorry. But this...this isn't worth it. Timmy is innocent in this. It was all me. I seduced him, I... manipulated him. Please, let him go." You were desperate to keep Timmy alive.

Billy looked at you, and slowly, he started lowering the gun.

"Police!" a voice called, as you heard the front door being knocked down.

"You dumb fucking bitch." Billy's eyes turned lethal as he pointed the gun at you. You saw his finger pull the trigger. Timmy screamed from behind the tape. You dived to the floor, screaming and hearing the gun go off. Once on the floor, you kicked Billy's feet from underneath him, and he fell to the floor. The gun dropped to the floor as well.

The cops came in yelling and restraining Billy. You regained your breath as they took him away in handcuffs and got up frantically to get Timmy freed from his constraints. You ripped the tape off of his mouth.

"Are you alright?!" he asked you, panting, as you untied his hands.

"Yes, I'm good." you quickly freed his ankles, and moved up to hold his face in your hands. "What about you?"

"I've been better, but I'll be okay. I love you." he said, kissing you hard, pulling you into his arms.

"I love you too." you said in between kisses, wrapping your arms around him, feeling most grateful that you were able to do so.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

[valdrift]

as the end of 2024 has been getting closer ive been both dreading and anticipating the new year and its a feeling tht i really dislike lol (more under cut bc my rambling got way longer than i thought 😦)

like i moved out 2022 and its been amazing for both my mental health and growth as a person since being away from my family gave me the space to figure out what i want to do and how to. idk. live ? got medicated, developed better coping mechanisms, made great friends, etc. i mean im living with my friends rn and theyre like family and i just got licensed to be an lvt and its all great ! but the thing is that my bio family need me and thts probably the root of the issue

cus my family is dirt poor, like living on gov aid, and none of them can work so growing up i was always told how i needed to be successful to take care of them even though i had plenty of rich relatives and i always wondered why none of them bothered to help and decided to put all that responsibility on a kid ?? and i was pretty much raised into being my family's eventual caretaker. from 13-17 i used to be so angry/depressed/resentful about it and hated my family bc it felt like they robbed me of my agency but now, i cant blame them. im not saying they should have done tht to a kid but i understand why. theres a bunch of complicated legal things and other stuff i dont want to get into and my family are either old, disabled, or both and god knows my relatives arent going to help so its up to me yknow ? its why im moving back in with them by 2025 to take care of them. and i love my family, i really do even if i dont tell them bc we dont talk like that and we all know it anyways. my mom is such a strong person despite how everyone looks down on her and i want her to have nice things, i want my family to live in a house that is clean and not falling apart, i want my mom to not have to ever worry about working and to have time for herself bc shes been stuck caring for kids for half her life. i love my family, i want to take care of them, and im angry i never got a choice. family is complicated and i wish it was as easy as just going "i dont want this responsibility" but i know its not

i keep telling myself that this is just how things are supposed to be and im going to spend the rest of my life taking care of them and i thought i accepted it but theres still some small part of me thats reluctant. i know im never going to have a partner or romance bc my family is and always will be my first priority and ig thats sad but i really dont mind. and im not just saying that, like genuinely im fine being single, i dont need companionship and have never felt that loneliness. im just fine with my friends and i dont need anything more, it just kinda sucks i dont get that choice. the whole thing is kinda sad and ive been told as much but these are the cards life dealt me and better me than someone else i guess

truth is im kind of scared, it feels like my life has already peaked and being away from my family has been so freeing but its selfish and damn if i dont want to be selfish for just a little longer. but its hard when i can see my mom getting older and the house getting worse and im angry that this isnt as easy as it should be. this country is awful and the systems in place are cruel and makes life as difficult as possible for people of color, the poor, and disabled. i know i'll get over it and i'll be moving back in and helping them like i promised but i'm only 22. my relatives are acting like i'm wasting my life every second im not helping my family or working towards making 6 figures or whatever and i won't lie it's put doubts in my mind. but im only 22!!!! i dont know. maybe im being dramatic because honestly it could be worse and we're even lucky to have a roof over our heads and to even have a steady source of income no matter how little it is. ive never told anyone the last bit abt being scared and all that, i think its easier to type it than say it, and it also helps i dont have a face to yall and i dont have to look you in the eye. i dont know if ive ever shared this much or anything like this on here either lol. i dont know

tldr; do it scared i guess

[kelean]

it's always funny to me when people blame jack's insanity and genocidal tendencies solely on lilith and moxxi's so-called "betrayal" and at this point i'm convinced that they played some different game because:

lilith and moxxi literally saw him kill innocent scientists only because he thought they may betray him, but there was no solid evidence for that. and even if there actually was a traitor among them, jack could've simply put them in some sort of jail or just deal with them quietly. but no. instead he decided to make a whole show out of killing them in one of the most cruel ways possible, while gathering all of his allies around. because his goal wasn't to just get rid of someone you can't trust - he wanted lilith, moxxi and roland to see what will happen to them if they dare to disobey him

after he killed the meriff he thought that it was - quote-unquote - "invigorating". killing scientists also "felt good". normal person behavior btw

he never cared about felicity. he doesn't feel any remorse or guilt after killing her, even though she was helping him this entire time. and correct if i'm wrong, but while he did need an army to take helios back, he, in the end, never actually used it. the loaders in bl:tps couldn't do much - we had to manually turn them into the loaders who can shoot or blow up stuff. and it was after we already got on helios. so basically, there was no rush to make a constructor out of felicity and consequently kill her in the process

by the time of the events of bl:tps he has already destroyed moxxi's underdome like she said in one of the side quests in bl2 (nevertheless, she still agreed to help him). and before you say anything about how he couldn't actually do that and it's a retcon because he was a low-level programmer may i remind you that he had the money to make a goddamn body double for himself. he had a fancy office. he had a chamber for angel's containment. and i think it's pretty believable that a person with that much money is capable of doing that

and yes, angel. while lilith and roland didn't know about that at the time, he has already enslaved his own daughter many years ago and used her to manipulate them into finding the vault for him in bl1. and he had the resources to keep her in her place, too

so, of course, when they saw the eye of the destroyer they knew what was going on. imagine somehow killing a monster that took down armies just to see its' eye being used by some big fucking corporation for god knows what years later

now, to the fun part - the betrayal. let's just say that moxxi’s good at reading people - she wasn’t wrong when she called jack a «power-hungry psychopath» and said that «a lot of decent people will live to regret it if you come down from helios alive» as we will see in the future events. she and others saw jack's true colors shine through during their little quest to save the moon and it was the only logical conclusion. she was fucking right

moxxi specifically asked jack to be at the eye of helios because she planned to kill him (and, well, people who agreed to work for him) and him (and his team) only. moreover, the station was already under attack by the lost legion by quite some time. so there was literally no possibility that it would've impacted any innocents (so idk from where some people got the idea that they killed "millions of innocent hyperions" - that's just called making shit up)

jack, on the other hand, didn't know how much of an impact that caused. however, he isn’t sad about the possible death of people that singularity might have caused (again, it could, but it didn’t - still, Jack doesn’t give a fuck). he isn’t even worried about his own team. all he cares about is that he lost a very valuable and deadly weapon because of «the things he could have done with it» - and it’s pretty obvious what exactly can you do with this sort of weapon. it wasn't just standing there to look pretty you know

also, while we’re at it, you can even argue how this whole “saving the moon and its’ people” thing might have been just a cover up for a real reason – that is, get this very dangerous weapon back under his control. but that's just a speculation based on some of the in-game things i've noticed, so let's not dwell on it

finally, i never really got why people are so mad at lilith for punching jack - she literally admits that she should’ve just killed him instead, as, in the end, it costed her a lot of people’s lives and, more specifically, roland’s life. she feels extremely guilty. she knows that she fucked up. her main mistake, however, wasn't that she "betrayed" jack - her main mistake was leaving him to die instead of finishing a job and thinking that he can actually be trustworthy

[tropes-and-tales]

You Fit with Me

December 15:  Marshmallows/Cabin - Fish out of water (Ray Merrimen x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  Slight angst; Ray being as fluffy as Ray can possibly be (not very)

Word Count:  879

AN:  Requested by anon!

“We don’t have to stay for long,” you promise, and Ray snorts but doesn’t reply.

He could point out that of course you’re going to stay at least for a night.  The cabin your friends rented is in Lakeshore, five hours north of L.A. on a day without traffic.  

He could point out that you both have bags packed for a multiple night stay.  

He could point out the obvious—that you are going to stay for a while.

He doesn’t say anything.  The way you hedge around the length of your stay tells him everything he needs to know:  you’re nervous about this long weekend with him and your friends.  And Ray can guess that you aren’t necessarily nervous about him (he’s taciturn but housetrained, not a complete menace) or your friends (they’re bubbly and chipper to a psychotic degree, but they have always been accepting of him dating you).  

If Ray had to guess, you’re nervous because you never ask him for anything.  In all the shit he’s put you through—the worry, the angst—you’ve never asked him for a single thing.  Until this.

A long weekend with your friends.  One is newly married, another is taking a job in Austin, and your group is splintering.  Growing up.  Life shit.  You want to spend the last hurrah with them, but they invited their significant others, so you had asked Ray—

Makes him feel like a piece of shit, when he replays how heartbreakingly casual you were when you asked him.  No big deal if you can’t, you had said.  If you can’t make it work.

Makes him feel like a piece of shit, but he can’t blame you.  He’s a closed-off person, and he has never once given voice to how he feels about you.  When you tell him you love him, he grunts, says something half-assed and non-committal like, “you too.”

You should have left him a long time ago, but you stick to him like a burr.  More loyal than any military buddy or member of his heist crew.  A loyal girl with a heart of gold, the rarest thing in the world and he still managed to score you, unbelievable as it may be.

-----

Halfway into the drive up to the cabin, he stops for gas.  

He can tell you’re nervous still.  He can feel the tension radiating off of you, and you sit in the passenger seat while he pumps the gas, cleans the windshield.

Once done, he doesn’t climb back into the car.  He walks over to the passenger’s side and knocks on your window.

“C’mon,” he says, jerking his head towards the store.  “Let’s get some drinks and snacks.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He opens your door, holds out a hand to you.  “Bullshit.  You love snacks.”

You let him pull you out of the car, but when you go to step past him, he blocks you.  Takes advantage of his height (and breadth) advantage and stares you down until you finally look up at him, a quizzical look on your face.

“This’ll be fun,” he says, his voice low and steady.  “Haven’t been up north in a long time.”

“I promise we can leave whenever—”

“Stop.”  He hooks a hand under your chin, holds you fast to keep you looking at him.  “I’m here because I want to be, understand?”

You nod against his hold, and he pinches your chin lightly to drive the point home.

“Have I ever done anything I didn’t want to do?  Huh?”

You smile, your cheeks curving under his hand.  “Never.”

“So there.  I want to be here.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

He hesitates, then adds, “I know I don’t fit in with your friends.”  He snorts, a little bitter.  “I don’t fit in with most people.”

You lay your hand on his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.  “You fit with me,” you reply, and there’s a sad questioning lilt to how you say it, like you believe it but maybe you think he doesn’t.

“I do.”  He puts his other hand over where yours rests against his sternum.  “Stop worrying about me.  If the girl-talk gets too much, me and the other guys will go off somewhere and talk manly shit.  Sports.  Cars.  Whatever.”

“I appreciate it, Ray.  I know you don’t—”

He cuts you off gently, doesn’t let you get the rest of that sentence out.  “And then,” he adds pointedly, “after all the girl-talk and friendship bullshit, you and I are going to go to that loft bedroom and I’m gonna make you come so many times that those girls are gonna be jealous.”

You flex your hand against his chest, claw him playfully.  “Such a sweet talker, Ray.”  But there’s a glint in your eye when you say it.  He knows you’ll be thinking about it for the second half of the trip to the cabin.

“And I want some fucking s’mores.  Cabin by the lake, I damned well better get s’mores.”

You laugh.  “Didn’t take you for a s’mores man.”

He releases your face but dips his head, kisses your smiling mouth.  “I want it all.  Graham crackers and chocolate, marshmallows burnt to shit over an open fire.”

“I think we can arrange that, big guy.”

[purpurussy]

id love to know more about your dinok au <333

thank you for asking <3 + sorry for responding to this a little late! i'm having trouble formulating my thoughts on it atm

my concept is that dan never found phil's channel, never met him, went to uni and married a girl he met there, and became a somewhat unsuccessful legal professional because he fucking hates his job. the vibe for him is that he kinda just let life drag him along, without really allowing himself to actually Live, and now he's in too deep to just come out as gay... like he's experiencing some insane cognitive dissonance dshshglk. coping through denial+alcohol has been working okay for him so far but now his career is flopping heavily and his marriage is falling apart bc he doesn't want kids (obviously) and his wife starting to suspect something is up. he meets phil through a mutual friend who he plays final fantasy with, they start talking via discord and then it's like "but wait what's this? my god it's manic pixie dream girl phil lester with a steel chair"

it's very angsty, slow burn, will they/won't they. but trust that phil is gonna see this sopping wet mess of a man and say "i can fix him" (and then dan will fix himself because i don't like that trope <3 but he needs phil to help him see that he can live his truth and be happy yk)

it's kinda hard to write because it's a bit depressing... i'm finally getting to the part where they meet irl and things start to turn around, but so far it's just been dan drinking to cope and feeling lonely :( i'm trying to go back and edit some humor into it to make it less upsetting to read lmfao. although it's fun to create a contrast between how bad dan's life fucking sucks and how much joy and whimsy he finds in talking to phil <3 it's also just really hard to write denial/cognitive dissonance if that makes sense? there's a lot to explore psychologically. and also I don't want to frame dan's beard wife as an antagonist, I feel like it would be very easy to demonize her but she's not to blame for this mess ykwim. like i don't want dan to be a "my bitch wife" kinda guy DSGSHGKG he's just scared. and the story is supposed to be about him being brave and healing, and realizing that a better life is possible. like he is his own antagonist dslskfghgjkl

I'm also enjoying the concept of the timeline roughly following their irl 2009 timeline. like they start talking around dan's 33rd birthday, meet on october 19th etc. i like the idea of some things being kinda constants even in a different timeline

anyway they just voice chat for a while and get to know each other without actually even knowing what the other looks like. and they lowkey fall in love even before they've even seen each other. so here is them seeing pics of each other for the first time and dying in a tragic double penis explosion incident

(earlier on phil tried to be like "why are you gay? you are gay." but dan just got scared and dodged the question so now he's not even out to phil . can you believe. that's gonna be real awkward when they start making out sloppy style 3 chapters later)

(also i just realized i've written [dan] like a million times while writing this LMAO that did not actually click for me until now)

sorry for rambling for ages! i'm so tired atm so i can't really be coherent lmao.

i really wanna post this once it's done, but i'm worried it'll be too sad and angsty at the beginning and people won't be into it 😭 i'm probably not doing a good job selling this but it'll be okay i promise

also shoutout to the people who helped me brainstorm dan's username! i havent decided yet but i like the idea of him picking something generic at first, and then changing it to something more meaningful as he goes on his little journey of self-discovery

[deludedfantasy]

Trimax Vol 7 Ch 4-6

My suffering continues in the second half of this volume. Things have been getting steadily worse and worse for a while, but something about this one really just got me. I know it's gonna get worse though lol. Until then, my thoughts on the last three chapters.

Ch 4

Wolfwood, my guy, what are you even doing? “He looks like he’s been to a funeral, and another one and another one after that.” I mean, yeah, Vash has been having a real shit time of it lately. That’s actually a great way to describe it.

In all seriousness, this is actually weirdly sweet to me. I think Wolfwood’s trying really hard to cheer him up, except he has no idea how to do it, so he’s just being so awkward instead. He gets like the tiniest little smile out of him. But it’s so sad because you can’t see Vash’s eyes anymore, he’s hiding all that pain beyond his brand-new goggles that function almost like blinders.

Despite how terrible Vash feels, he still helps those people out. His reputation precedes him though and it’s gotten worse. Now the story about his powers is out and the people avoid him, treat him like a devil. 

But the guys he saved are being really nice to him! Actually treating him like a person! We love to see it. 

Vash looks like he’s having fun drinking but after the last volume, I’m a little worried. He’s having a nice time, but I also feel like he’s using it to bury all the hurt he’s feeling. 

“Oh well. This may be his last chance to enjoy himself.” I can’t begin to explain the dread this line puts in me, especially since I know where this is all going. So does Wolfwood, of course. But he seems so calm about it, like he’s accepted the inevitability of it all. 

“I’m the angel of mercy handing out booze to these poor souls.” This is a banger of a line to come from some random barkeeping granny.  

That is a bleak, bleak view of Vash’s possible future that this guy gives him. That he’ll always be alone, time the only thing that will wipe away his regrets, nothing but that for as long as he’s alive. He’s probably speaking from experience though and that’s what makes it even sadder.

Oh no. OH NO. Vash’s power reacted to something and I don’t like it. It’s Knives, it’s him merging with the Plants and things are about to go down. 

The way Vash says, “Wolfwood, you really are my guide, right?” HE KNOWS. I’m convinced now that he knows that Wolfwood is Knives’s agent and has been from the beginning. I hesitate to say he doesn’t care, but he certainly doesn’t blame Wolfwood for it. But it also makes this all so tragic. In a way, they’ve both accepted their fates at this point and just, ugh, nooooo. 

Knives’s big plan is starting…with an attack of galactic proportions. He’s bringing down all the satellites, destroying the planetary communications network. A great way to sow fear and chaos across the land.

When we do see Vash’s eyes, they’re so empty. He has given up. The way he’s talking, it’s like he’s walking to his death. He knows whatever he’s walking into, he’s not coming back from it. His language, thanking everyone for one last drink, one last good night, it very much reads like a suicide note. I’m gonna go curl up in a ball and cry now.

Ch 5

The chapter titles in this volume…they fuck me up. “Late Arrival to the End of the World.” On the one hand, oof, yes, how evocative. On the other hand though…I’m scared.

So Wolfwood and Vash arrive at Knives’s murder castle/ship. Vash runs right on in because there’s no hiding now. Knives’s power is at full blast. Not only can his brother sense him, but Vash’s own power is reacting to it and he’s shifting. For the first time, he looks calm about it. But it’s not because he’s okay with his power. It’s because he’s accepted his fate. He’s locked in and nothing will stop him now, because he has nothing left to lose.

Oh my god???? What was that horrifying vision Wolfwood had? He doesn’t seem to think it was Knives and Vash didn’t even notice. FREAKY. There’s someone in the murder castle that’s after him too. 

But also, “I don’t want to be a burden on him.” God, Wolfwood. Just…you care about him so much, but it wouldn’t be a burden to him. But he knows that, which is why he won’t do it. He won’t put something else on Vash’s shoulders, he won’t make him even more worried, or harder than it already is. 

Elendira is just like, “Hi there! Let me lead you to your murderous brother for your final showdown. Right this way!”

Ah, so Vash did pick up on something from Wolfwood’s vision. As always, Vash remains more perceptive than Wolfwood is willing to give him credit for. 

IT’S REVEALED. Wolfwood isn’t Chapel! Also, can we talk about the badass wheelchair of death the actual Chapel is using? 

I love that Elendira basically scolds them into not pointing their guns at each other.

You know, it occurs to me that Wolfwood manages to betray a lot of people all at once. There’s something really sad about that because I just know it makes him feel so much worse about himself as a person.

Always funny to me when Wolfwood calls other people faithless. Like, dude, so are you! That’s just the pot calling the kettle black. 

Knives’s aura is so powerful, it cracks Vash’s glasses and blows them off his face. He can’t hide his feelings anymore and he also can’t hide from his brother anymore. He has to look the world full in the face now. There’s no turning back or running away anymore. 

Also, this last panel of Knives emerging from the pavilion is terrifying. Especially the way the giant hands don’t match up with where the rest of his body is positioned. 

Ch 6

It kills me that Knives’s plan to make Vash suffer and break him down succeeded. He wanted to see his brother brought low, to have all of his ideals smashed and proven wrong, before they faced each other again. It’s so cruel, especially after seeing how kind and loving he was as a child. 

But Knives still frames what he’s doing as saving Vash! Now it’s because of the black hair, because he’s closer to death than Knives is. Does Knives feel guilty though? Because as far as I can tell, every time Vash has used his powers and his hair has turned black up to this point has been directly due to Knives forcing or manipulating him into it. 

This has been haunting me since the first half of this volume, but Knives bringing up Tesla again reminded me. Would she want this? Would she want the kind of destruction Knives wants to rain down on the world? Would she want that kind of large scale revenge against all of humanity? She might have been a child, but Independent Plants, as we’ve seen, are incredibly intelligent, even as children. If we assume she was a vengeful ghost who wanted to show them the truth about humanity, then maybe. There’s this tiny part of me though that wonders if she’d be horrified instead to see so much suffering done in her name. Would she really want to see anyone, Plant or human, harmed just because she did too? Would she want others to experience the same pain she did? And that’s the thing. We don’t know. We’ll never know what this little girl wanted. She never had any agency, not when she lived or died, not even in her legacy. She became a martyr for a cause she didn’t even know existed. 

Oh hey, it’s the argument Vash and Knives have in the Tristamp finale! I didn’t catch this on my first read. The context here is very different though. Vash is a lot more broken down here and we know he has so many doubts. So to hear him say something like this, that he’ll run away and try again, is so weirdly hopeful and optimistic. Knives is just as enraged though. 

I’ve been wondering what those tubes on Vash’s jacket were for ages! It looks like ammo to reload his arm gun (and maybe his revolver too). Clever design for a gunslinger’s jacket, honestly. 

Is—is Legato hopping up the stairs in his weird little metal coffin thing? Like he’s in a sack race? That is such a ridiculous image in the middle of this battle. 

Ough, Vash. This page…Why must you hurt me like this? He might still have some hope left for humanity, but he doesn’t have any left for himself. In that sense, Knives failed. He wanted him to suffer and see humanity’s failings, but Vash only ever saw his own. 

Knives really went, “If I can’t save you from yourself, I’ll make you part of me and take away your entire autonomy.” He’s always been like this, but this time he’s just said it out loud. All those posts about Knives seeing Vash an extension of himself become very, very literal here.

Oh? Vash was actually able to overpower him when he tried to meld with him? 

I can’t believe Knives actually listened to Legato. He hasn’t been listening to anyone recently. And Legato’s deranged, excited expression when he does and then asks him to restrain Knives…he’s really enjoying himself, for once.

Oh no, oh this is bad. Vash is captured, Knives is planning the destruction of the planet, there’s apparently a massive airship. Everything looks very, very bad. This is so much worse because I know where this is going. 

[anderscim]

@eventide-roses asked:

I would like to drop in something that has been.....kinda bugging me??? Not really bugging, but idk if you can even make a theory off of it. It's more Xanvid inclined anyway (and ig Teruvid if you squint really hard), but it's something that I found kinda interesting imo

Ask yourself this. How much screentime did David even have before chapter 2? I find it odd (my brother and I joke about him being the "Levi" of chapter 1 - having very little screentime) that he wasn't on screen for.....really most of chapter's 1 daily life, except for when he intervened Teruko and Xander's conversation in the dining hall (where he went on about how there is so much pressure on his shoulders from being looked up to a lot). Keep in mind Teruko knows his optimistic facade is merely an act. Lots of ppl (included myself) think that David only intervened cause he was watching Xander and Teruko, cautious cause one person knew something that they shouldn't have. But that also sounds a little too cautious, wouldn't you say? Sure, as an inspirational speaker, you are expected to be always happy and cheerful, seeing the world through rose tinted glasses. But surely, as a human being, you are also not immune to being sad. His slip up in the introduction just sounded like an introvert to me. Maybe a bit of a bitchy introvert, but not......something worth total contempt from someone. Yet, David is paranoid enough to keep to himself for the majority of chapter 1 and (most likely) just watched Teruko and Xander's interactions carefully. Why would he do this? Obviously he doesn't want anyone else to know about how his facade is just....well, a facade. But it honestly seems like he genuinely values Xander's opinion about him. He doesn't want anything negative to smear Xander's opinion about him. And keep in mind, ever since the killing game was announced, David (most likely) automatically went in his head "Well, it's only a matter before we all die" yet he still desperately tries to keep up his happy go lucky facade, even when he knows he could die the very next day

I found it kinda odd he never really played a big part until after chapter 2, episode 4 where he became the so called 'leader' and started the plan to share secrets again. But wasn't this also after the end of the first trial where he says "I lost hope, I won't bother to keep it up anymore, we are all going to die here" <- paraphrasing rn, don't kill me. And yet he STILL tries to keep up the persona. I remember one blog made a post about how David's plan was actually better than what the cast could've done (sit around the let the motives be revealed or reveal them without permission) which I agree with. But then it backfired and everyone started to gain up on David during the trial. I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when Teruko said David has been faking not only his personality, but also being a good person. Like damn girl, you think he's a bad person just cause you caught him saying a few negative things to himself? It fits with her character of not trusting people, but still. All that was revealed about his 'true true' personality was that he was some mildly bitchy introvert that wanted to sleep in I have no idea where I am going with this, but these are some findings that I thought was interesting enough to share with you (hopefully I'm sending it to the right blog as well). I guess what I'm trying to say is not only does David truly care about Xander, but possibly everyone else in the cast (he probably even had some respect for Teruko, until Xander died, which is a whole other can of worms, but I also think he blames her for Xander's death and her secret he received in chapter 2 only verifies his belief) And (this is also an extremely long stretch but also worth considering) the gag comic that the dev made I think? 2021 ish? Where David received too many letters and he was worried how he would get through all of them? It wasn't even his idea to throw them out, it was Whit's (to which, David even asked him isn't that a little mean?). It shows that David still cares about his fans (again, it's a really big stretch, but still has the character's canon personalities, since the dev themself made it)

first off, thank you for the submission lexi! i hope you don’t mind that i transferred your ask to this blog ^^

and yeah, i noticed these things too, but in my opinion it may mostly be an indication that david is adamant about maintaining his persona and what the cast expects from him.

(take this with a grain of salt)

despite his (at the very least) pessimistic dialogue at the end of chapter one, i think he tries to consistently keep the “ideal image” that the rest of the cast expects from him as the ultimate inspirational speaker—leading the group, presenting that entire plan (despite likely making it up on the spot), etc—in the beginning of chapter two. similar to what you said, i think it’s a very interesting contradiction to have david act so pessimistic and say that they’re “all certainly going to die here,” and then suddenly find him within the next few days leading the group and doing everything he possibly could to keep his plan going. like i mentioned in this older post, david’s plan was likely better than any of the alternatives—and based on the fact he could potentially convince everyone to follow a separate path from what he outlined in ch2 ep4, it’s likely that he wasn’t actually attempting to “foster the right atmosphere for murder to occur,” like he claimed in episode 11.

so if he was trying to help and prevent another murder despite the (very) limited means to do so—despite him clearly saying how they’re all going to die the chapter before—it might point to the fact that david is pressured by his own reputation to act in a way that is fitting for an inspirational speaker, regardless of all of his slip-ups from earlier. after all, david may have felt that it was wrong to watch all of the discourse happening in ch2 ep4 and not do something about it, especially since he has a career that literally helps other people for a living.

however, this internal(?) pressure could imply that he sets unrealistic expectations on himself to maintain that image—which might explain why, despite his slip-up in the prologue only showing us that he was more pessimistic and lazy than the cast expected, he was paranoid enough to check on xander and teruko. as implied from the MV and all of the secrets that it has, there’s a lot of evidence that points to david not feeling human (the dolls, the albino mouse / arabidopsis / footnote 2)—instead, he thinks of himself as a sort of “model organism” and someone who’s supposed to hold up an ideal for everyone else to follow. if this is true, this may explain why he felt cautious enough to go out of his way and monitor(?) the two people who may know something past his persona/reputation—true, it is only human to feel negative emotions and express them outwardly, but in david’s case he may hold incredibly high expectations for himself as a role model and pretend that he’s immune to those emotions. after all, he doesn’t feel like he’s human.

i also agree on the “he at the very least had an iota of respect for the rest of the cast at one point” part <-paraphrased. no specific evidence for this but i might get to it later

i hope you get what i mean. (-.-;) thank you again for the submission!

[ingek73]

PRINCE HARRY EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW

‘This is not about trying to collapse the monarchy, this is about trying to save them from themselves’

By BRYONY GORDON

Montecito is on mudslide alert, its residents nervously awaiting an evacuation order. I wake up on the morning of my meeting with Prince Harry to a media storm – his book, Spare, has found its way into Spanish shops almost a week before publication – and a meteorological storm, this normally bone dry part of southern California being battered by rain. Both squalls are doing a good job of reminding me that, while you might be able to run 5,000 miles from the source of your pain, you can rarely escape from it.

When I finally reach Montecito’s most famous resident – and possibly, right now, the world’s – he is nonplussed about the weather, which some have described as biblical, but I might describe as… well, British. Prince Harry tells me that the day before I arrived, he put on his waterproofs and headed down to the beach in the pouring rain with his dog, Pula, ignoring all offers of an umbrella from those around him. (I don’t tell him that I already know this, having seen pictures of said outing on a website that morning.)

And yet, even with the threat of mudslides, the Duke of Sussex clearly feels safer here in his Montecito home than he ever did in the royal palaces where he grew up. You could hardly blame him. The house is a sanctuary, surrounded by acres of greenery, complete with chickens, a play area and a teepee so lovely that I find myself jokingly asking if I can move into it. I am taken to a finca-style guest house where I find a generous spread of crudités alongside umpteen types of tea, served, of course, in the finest china. Soft music tinkles in the background. Candles flicker. It would all feel very relaxing, were it not for the fact it is only a matter of hours since the book somehow leaked to The Guardian newspaper and went on sale early at a chain of Spanish book shops.

There is some amusement from Harry about how the passages on his “frost-nipped penis” might have come out in translation, but mostly he is sad and disappointed that the general public’s first encounter with the contents of Spare will come not through reading the book itself, but via newspaper headlines.

In the book, he describes those who work on Fleet Street as a “dreadful mob of dweebs and crones and cut-rate criminals and clinically diagnosable sadists”, and that’s the more polite stuff. Am I mad to be speaking to him on the day that many of my colleagues are ripping him to shreds, especially knowing, as I do, that he has killed 25 members of the Taliban while on a tour of duty in Afghanistan? But the moment he walks through the door, a trail of dogs in his wake, I am reminded of his warmth and down-to-earth humour.

Today he is dressed in the TK Maxx uniform of T-shirt and jeans that he writes about in Spare. He welcomes me with a hug and rushes to make the tea. He is bright-eyed, looking far happier and healthier than when I last saw him at Buckingham Palace in early 2020, on his final day as a working member of the Royal family. He seems relaxed, more free – the nerves he had during our first interview, back in 2017, are gone, replaced with the quiet confidence of someone far more at ease with himself.

We sit on enormous cream sofas in front of a roaring fire, overlooked by a watercolour painting of a beach. I apologise for bringing my jet lag with me. He looks at his watch. “Think of it this way – it’s 11.10pm in the UK. You’re in the pub.” He quickly remembers that I don’t drink. “Or you’re not in the pub, but you’re OK. You can do this!” And so I switch on my tape recorder, and we begin.

He tells me that he is “someone who likes to fix things”. “If I see wrongdoing and a pattern of behaviour that is harming people, I will do everything I can to try and change it.” He worries about the other “spares” in the family. “As I know full well, within my family, if it’s not us,” and at this he points at his chest, “it’s going to be someone else. And though William and I have talked about it once or twice, and he has made it very clear to me that his kids are not my responsibility, I still feel a responsibility knowing that out of those three children, at least one will end up like me, the spare. And that hurts, that worries me.”

I first met Harry in 2016, when I began working with him and his brother and sister-in-law on their mental-health campaign, Heads Together. Right from the get-go, he seemed to grasp the issue of mental illness in a way that seemed quite unexpected from a member of the traditionally buttoned-up British Royal family.

I have only wonderful, warm memories of that period, which culminated in Harry coming on my podcast, Mad World, and speaking for the first time about the anguish he experienced trying to process the death of his mother. We developed what I would call a working friendship, which saw me get involved with various Heads Together and Royal Foundation events, and we have stayed in touch over the years.

The Harry I have come to know is perhaps best summed up via an anecdote in Spare, where he develops trench foot while out on an army exercise in Wales. He has been yomping through the countryside for several days, with equipment equivalent to the weight of a young teenager strapped to his back, during a heatwave. Halfway through, the heatwave breaks with a storm of torrential rain. They continue marching. Eventually, he realises that his foot is burning. At a checkpoint, Harry takes off his boots and socks, and the bottom of his right foot peels away. Medics inform him that the exercise is over for him, but when a staff sergeant tells him that there are “only” eight miles left, he resolves to tape his feet in zinc oxide and get the hell on with it.

“The last four miles were among the most difficult steps I’ve ever taken on this planet,” he explains. “As we crossed the finish line I began to hyperventilate with relief.” He hobbled about like an old man for the next few days, proud as punch that he pushed on through.

Here we have Harry – or Harold or Haz or H, depending on who you are – to a tee. You can say what you like about him (you probably have), and throw what you like at him (you may wish you could), but when he feels he is on the right path, he keeps going, through thick and thin and trench foot. What you see with Harry is what you get – a quality that made us love him until relatively recently, when it suddenly became the reason he has come in for so much hate.

He has been called a “cycle-breaker”, which is a term that refers to a person who changes decades – nay, centuries-old family patterns. There are some who cringe at all this “therapy speak”, dismissing it as “woke” Californian psycho-babble. That might have been the case way back in the 80s, but it isn’t now. The truth is that when Harry speaks about his feelings, about his escape from dysfunction, he doesn’t sound that different from any other person in their 30s who has been forced to confront issues with their mental health.The only real difference is a claim to the throne dating back to William the Conqueror. He speaks the language of recovery. And like most languages, being forced to learn it is painful. It is often messy, and mistakes are made. But boy is there a tremendous sense of reward when you start to be proficient in it.

Harry is matter-of-fact about this process. He accepts that any chance of reconciliation is unlikely at the moment. “What I’ve realised is that you don’t make any friends, especially within your family, because everyone has learned to accept that trauma [as] part of life. How dare you, as an individual, talk about it, because that makes us all feel really uncomfortable? So right, you may not like me in the moment, but maybe you’ll thank me in five or 10 years time.”

As someone who writes about mental health, I am far more interested in the detrimental effects of what Harry describes as living in “fancy captivity” than I am in the minutiae of who said what and to whom. To me, the most shocking thing about Spare is that he kept all of this inside him for so long, with only the one altercation with paparazzi. For all the side swipes about his privilege, trauma is trauma is trauma – whether it takes place in a damp bedsit or in front of a worldwide audience of billions as you walk behind your mother’s coffin. In Spare, Harry reveals that for 10 years after Diana’s death in 1997, his brain went into a state of complete shock, refusing to believe that she was actually dead, instead engaging in the kind of magical thinking that is most often seen in people with severe obsessive compulsive disorder or psychosis.

For an entire decade, Harry’s grief was buried so deep that he believed his mother had gone into hiding, that she would return to him and his brother at any moment. He refers to it throughout as “the disappearance”, a detail so heartbreaking that you would have to be cold-blooded not to be moved by it. At Eton, his brother shuns him – an occurrence relatable to most younger siblings, but one that nevertheless blows apart the narrative that Willy and Harold had been attached at the hip until Meghan came along. At 15 he has his head shoved in a deer carcass, an act that is seen as an aristocratic rite of passage at Balmoral, but that would be seen as child abuse anywhere else in the world. At 16, he is splashed across the front pages of the papers and frogmarched by his father to spend a day at a rehab in Peckham, because he has indulged in a spot of adolescent experimentation with cannabis (it’s hard to see how this story would be justified today). All credit to him, really: I think, had all of this happened to me, that I would have been on even harder drugs by the time I turned 13.

“Lots of people go through lots of s--t,” he shrugs, when I express sympathy for the litany of misfortune he has gone through. His critics have accused him of playing the victim, and yet I find a man who is anything but. “It’s interesting because so many of those moments have made me the man I am today. Would I encourage Archie to stick his head inside a carcass? Probably not. But people who’ve experienced trauma deal with it in different ways. I think when it comes to me and William, the fascinating part is that we both experienced a similar traumatic experience.

“He wanted to talk about it when [we were] younger, which built up a little bit of resentment. It wasn’t anything against him, I just didn’t want to talk about it. And then as we got older, I started to go slightly off the rails, and deal with it through drinking and drugs, and he went completely silent and completely shut down. And then my life started to alter and completely change, because I wanted, or had no other choice, than to confront the very thing that I had been running from, or scared of, for all those years.”

He tells me that he wasn’t walking around thinking of his mother the whole time. “I was doing everything humanly possible not to think about her.” Therapy, at first suggested by his brother, but properly engaged with once he got together with Meghan, changed everything. “It was like clearing the windscreen, clearing away all the Instagram filters, all of life’s filters.”

It allowed him to deal with the guilt he felt about his inability to cry (in the years after his mother’s death, before therapy, he shed tears only twice – once at the burial at Althorp, and then years later on a skiing holiday with his girlfriend at the time, Cressida Bonas). “I started to confront the idea that mummy wanted me to cry,” he tells me. “I convinced myself that she must have wanted me to cry, that that was the only way I could prove to her that I still miss her.”

He took ayahuasca, a psychedelic, with a professional – there is some research that the plant has positive effects on mental wellbeing. “After taking ayahuasca with the proper people,” he says, sipping his entirely non-mind altering chamomile tea, “I suddenly realised – wow! – it’s not about the crying. She [Diana] wants me to be happy. So this weight off my chest was not the need to cry, it was the acceptance and realisation that she has gone, but that she wants me to be happy and that she’s very much present in my life. And now, as two brothers, if one of you goes through that experience and the other one doesn’t, it naturally creates a further divide between you. Which is really sad. But as much as William was the first person to even suggest therapy, I just wish that he would be able to feel the same benefits of that as opposed to believing what he doesn’t need to.” (Harry claims that William thinks therapy has made him delusional.)

Maybe if the brothers had taken an ayahuasca trip together, none of this would have happened. As it is, Harry concedes that “it couldn’t be worse”. But he sees Spare as a last resort – not as a reconciliation, but an attempt to get his side of the story out (he doesn’t know the exact number of unofficial books that have been written about him, but believes it to be in “three figures”). He has been accused of airing his family’s dirty laundry. “But I always say: ‘What’s the difference between airing lies about your family through the British press, or airing truth through a book?’ In my case, this is all contained in one place where I hold myself entirely accountable and responsible for what I am saying.

‘William was the first person to suggest therapy – I just wish he could feel the same benefits’

“I don’t see why it’s so ingrained [in society] that whatever happens in your family, you should never talk about it. That no matter what’s happened, I can’t do this. But they [the Royal family] can? Because of who they are and what they represent? The way I was brought up is that, as a member of the Royal family, you lead by example. So you shouldn’t be able to use that privilege to get away with more things. No institution is immune to criticism and scrutiny, and if only 10 per cent of the scrutiny that was put on me and M was put on this institution, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

“It’s so…” he shudders, and makes a guttural “urggh” sound. “It’s so dirty. It’s so dark. And it will continue and it will carry on and I look forward to the day when we are no longer part of it, but I worry about who’s next.”

He says he knows that the press “have got a s--t-tonne of dirt about my family. I know they have, and they sweep it under the carpet for juicy stories about someone else.” He tells me about some of the darkest moments in 2019. “I was coming back to Frogmore after Archie was born, and I would walk into the nursery and there she [Meghan] was in floods of tears, tears dripping on Archie while she was breast-feeding him. That was a breaking point for me. And she is someone who doesn’t read the stories. She would be dead if she was reading the stories.”

We talk about his reasons for doing this. “This is not about trying to collapse the monarchy, this is about trying to save them from themselves. And I know that I will get crucified by numerous people for saying that.”

The question so many have put to him is: is it worth it? His response is simple. “I feel like this is my life’s mission, to right the wrongs of the very thing that drove us out. Because it took my mum, it took Caroline Flack, who was my girlfriend, and it nearly took my wife. And if that isn’t a good enough reason to use the pain and turn it into purpose, I don’t know what it is.”

I tell him that from reading Spare, it seems clear that it nearly took him, too. “Yeah.” I get the impression that he didn’t want to exist, and then he met Meghan, and he had an experience of… “I want to live. I was never aware of how unhappy I was. I didn’t allow myself to think about it.”

I put it to him that even if Meghan is difficult – and I don’t think she is – it is unlikely that the monarchy have never encountered a difficult member of the family before. “But that’s the thing,” he nods, “that’s the unconscious bias. But they always tell on themselves. The press will tell on themselves and the family will tell on themselves as well. You look back on the history of how many members of my family have shouted at staff, [and] that is apparently all forgotten about and Meghan’s the bully.” He shakes his head. “It’s like, what? No, no, no. The members of this family that are literally brought up within this construct, have some issues to deal with.”

I talk to him a bit about the process of writing the book with the ghost-writer J R Moehringer. “It was definitely cathartic. It was painful at times. It was eye-opening.” In the book, he talks about “The Wall”, a mental block in his brain that divides his life before and after his mother died. “There were memories that I managed to pull up and over The Wall that I had forgotten about, that I didn’t even know existed. And there were times when I scared the s--t out of myself as well.”

In what way? “For example, Afghanistan. There were moments there that took me back. I would close my eyes and put myself back in the cockpit and fly those missions again. And JR was amazed by the level of detail that I could remember.” He tells me that the first draft was 800 pages, whereas the finished manuscript is just over 400. “It could have been two books, put it that way.” Some stuff, such as his life-changing trip to Nepal in 2016, had to be removed because of space issues. “And there were other bits that I shared with JR, that I said: ‘Look, I’m telling you this for context but there’s absolutely no way I’m putting it in there.’”

And why wouldn’t he put those bits in? “Because…” he pauses. “Because on the scale of things I could include for family members, there were certain things that – look, anything I’m going to include about any of my family members, I’m going to get trashed for. I knew that walking into it. But it’s impossible to tell my story without them in it, because they play such a crucial part in it. And also because you need to understand the characters and personalities of everyone within the book. But there are some things that have happened, especially between me and my brother, and to some extent between me and my father, that I just don’t want the world to know. Because I don’t think they would ever forgive me. Now you could argue that some of the stuff I’ve put in there, well, they will never forgive me anyway. But the way I see it is, I’m willing to forgive you for everything you’ve done, and I wish you’d actually sat down with me, properly, and instead of saying I’m delusional and paranoid, actually sit down and have a proper conversation about this, because what I’d really like is some accountability. And an apology to my wife.”

His wife is up in the main house, with the kids. We go there after the interview, with a smiling Meghan greeting me at the door. We spend some time together, drink turmeric lattes, and I get to see Harry in his element – Husband Harry, Dad Harry, the normal bloke in thoroughly abnormal circumstances. The children run around, the dogs jump on the cream sofas with muddy paws, and all is much as you would find it in any other home, during the witching hour just before the kids tea.

Before I go, Harry is keen to show me another wall, one he feels a little bit more positive about than the screen that sprung up in his head after his mother died. It’s a picture wall on a staircase, the kind found in homes all over the world. It features scores of framed photographs of his wife and children, alongside lovely hand-written cards from his grandparents. He has just finished putting it together, and as we admire it, I recognise that familiar look of pride I have seen on the face of my own husband – the look of a dad who has just completed a DIY task without destroying the plaster.

It’s tea time for the kids, and the early hours of the morning for my jet-lagged brain, so I say my goodbyes to Harry and Meghan, who pack me off with hugs and homemade jam. But I think about that wall for the whole of the drive back to Los Angeles, and then, on the plane, all of the way back to London. I think about the glee Harry found in it, the smile on his face as he showed me it. But mostly I think about how nice it would be for Harry’s brother and father to see the wall, and one day maybe even have some of their own carefree photographs included on it.

Lead picture credit: Bryony Gordon

[edificent]

to mourn the self

Rating: Gen Characters: Nya, Zane Word Count: 927 Cross-Posted to AO3

—

It’s been quiet.

One of those rare moments after victory when they’re allowed to simply be. 

The monastery is… nicer after its reconstruction. And while the others are out learning more about themselves, Zane elected to stay behind today. As did Nya.

“Does it get easier?” Nya abruptly ends the silence they entered minutes ago.

There’s an easy smile on Zane’s face as he moves one of his stones to secure more of Nya’s. “Nya, you are the one who requested to play Go against me. I did not promise I would go easy.”

“Not the game, Zane…”

He looks up at her, raising an eyebrow. “Then what do you mean?”

“I mean… mourning yourself… who you were before you changed. Does that ever stop?”

Zane is quiet as he contemplates her words. He’s had a conversation like this before, with Cole, but he wasn’t as hung up about it after he got his body back. Or if he was, he never expressed it. But Nya… 

She’s always been self-reliant. He understands the feeling, to some extent. Raising yourself tends to do that, and though he recovered his memories of his father that doesn’t erase the years he spent alone before Wu found him. 

He wasn’t expecting her to talk to him about her time with the sea.

“No.” Zane finally says. 

Nya looks frustrated by this.

“Truthfully, I try not to think about it. I am at peace with who I am now but that does not make me not… miss things. I notice differences more often than I would care to admit. For example, in my old body, I used to get hungry. My father designed me to be as close to human functionality as possible. This body is missing those… humanisms. My rebuild was incomplete before I got taken by Chen.”

“Sometimes it feels like my body will turn to liquid all over again.” Nya admits quietly, “Like if I don’t stay focused on staying me I’ll fall apart.”

Zane frowns. “I understand…”

“It’s… the feeling of helplessness.”

“Is… there a reason you asked me this? Rather than Jay or Kai.”

“They don’t… get it. To Kai, I’m his little sister that he still has to watch out for, if I say something like this he’ll get all… Kai about it, you know? Jay would get really sad for me but in that oblivious Jay way that somehow makes you feel more bad for him than yourself. You’re more reasonable than they are and you’ve… experienced something similar.”

“I see.”

They both fall silent. 

“Did…. did you ever feel helpless as the Ice Emperor?”

Zane’s frown deepens. “I… did not know myself as the Ice Emperor. I felt… powerful. I believed my words were just and right. But looking back…”

“None of us blame you for it.” Carefully, she reaches over and places her hand on his, comforting.

Zane draws away, instinctively, “No, of course you don’t. I do not imagine the people of the Never Realm feel similarly, however. It is… frightening to know I am capable of such cruelty. And yes… At times I feel helpless because of it. Which is why I try not to think about it. About who I was before everything.”

“Not knowing yourself is… scary.”

“You felt similarly as the Sea?”

“After enough time I forgot myself. That we’re so fragile to forget who we are? To lose ourselves? I worry about what’s to come, honestly. And it will because Ninjago can never stay saved.” She huffs in annoyance at the last bit.

Zane eases up and laughs softly, “No, it cannot. It feels as though there is something new every year.”

“For once I wish it would just stay saved. I never wanted to be ordinary but I’d like for a break once in a while, y’know? See Ninjago without the perils.”

“A road trip does sound like a pleasant idea. But you might want to consider who you would want to take.”

Nya groans, as she looks back at their game. She makes her move and Zane raises a brow at her decision, though she doesn’t seem to notice or care. “Ugh. I love him, but Jay would complain the entire time about bugs, and Kai is annoying to go on trips with.”

“I have been on a few with Cole, he’s not a bad choice, though he does waste money on buying souvenirs.” One more stone, and... there. “I win, by the way.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on a trip with Lloyd.” She glances down at the board and frowns, “I was never good at Go, anyways.”

“I’m not sure I have either. Save perhaps to the arcade when he was a younger child.”

“He was such a little shit at that age.” 

“Indeed. To be quite honest, at times I feel bad he had to grow up so fast…”

“Me too, unfortunately prophecies don’t seem to like waiting for people to grow up before thrusting responsibility upon our shoulders.”

Zane hums in agreement, before he switches tracks, “I am not sure I would count any of my trips with Sensei as trips.”

“Oh, Sensei trips are by far the worst. Everything is a lesson to him,” Nya laughs, then pauses, “Zane— let’s go on a road trip together.”

“Me?”

“Yeah! You know more about the ecosystems of Ninjago than anyone else here does, and you won’t have to hoard all the snacks while we drive.”

Zane smiles, glad to see Nya’s spirits rekindled as opposed to earlier. “I would enjoy that.”

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

the way you’re handling this is sad. Quackity is not only ignoring Dream but some of the people on his own SMP who also reached out with concerns. Dream has been nothing but mature, concerned and empathic throughout this entire situation and your response is to call him pathetic?

Quackity ignoring a friend that he’d been very close with before is concerning in itself and I personally find his silence to be very worrying. It isn’t right to just. go after dream for no reason when compared to Quackity i’d say he’s handled this drama with a good amount of maturity and concern for someone he considers a friend.

And bringing up dsmp lore in comparison to this rubs me the wrong way. Dream admits that he’s been being stalked, harassed and threatened because of *minecraft server drama* and your response is to compare it to c!dream knowing.. c!tommy didn’t want to be his friend?

i’m just overall a little bit appalled how you can possibly respond to the situation like this when it is Quackity who has been the one handling this poorly by putting off an issue and allowing his fanbase to harass and attack other creators.

“Dream has been mature” he’s been constantly going on about how omg quackity hates me when he didn’t have any communication with quackity about it. that’s not mature. that’s the fucking opposite of mature. that’s petty high school mean girl shit.

cutting off someone who got nudes of fans at the Very least and potentially groomed minors is Normal Actually. why would you wanna say a tearful goodbye to a sex pest. Plus, the thread indicates that other people struggled with getting into contact with quackity meaning he was probably fucking busy and had a life and not focusing on Twitter drama!!! how tf is he meant to know about drama and shit if he's spending most of his time working on his server.

quackity has done Literally Nothing, yet you blame him and see him as the aggressor. everything quackity does he gets judged a million times harder than any white creator. when quackity doesn’t engage with a situation at all, that he has no reason to because hes clearly uninterested and has busy work of his own, he’s at fault for the harassment his community sends, but when dream quote retweets someone and makes fun of them for petty shit it’s all uwu he can’t control his fans! when dream buys a trump flag it’s swept under the rug, when quackity downloads a popular mod that has racist mobs in it (which is bad and I’m not trying to downplay it but it’s nowhere near as intentional as buying a literal trump flag) hes irredeemable even when he removes it. and it’s so obvious that you’re doing this because he's a person of colour. maybe not consciously, but you’re condemning him for doing shit dream has done that you defend. do I think quackity is perfect? no, of course not. but it’s weird to condemn a poc for things you let his white peers slide on.

and there’s like 0 indication that the threats involved anything to do with the usmp. dream himself doesn’t even provide any evidence or proof they’re related. a lot of people really hate dream. from racist kiwi farmers who hate that he’s openly nd to people who don’t like misogynistic creeps. we have no indication which one of those groups tried to harm or stalk dream and his family, and assuming it was Quackity's fanbase with zero shown evidence or even ancedotes is fucking weird. it’s weird to put that into a statement about how your friend fell out with you- it’s implying they’re somehow related when they’re not. even if they were, there was literally no way quackity could have known and it’s wild to bring it up in a post about him ghosting you. it’s guilt trippy and weird. no one should trivialise or accept what happened to dream, but you shouldn’t try and tie it into private friend drama if you’re not gonna provide any proof of it being relevant.