#already liking how this ask will look out of context

[dollarbils]

admit you want me | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. billie, your roommate, starts a fight with you which soon gets heated.

warnings. violent language, harsh insults, physical violence, mean!billie, smut.

request masterlist

you’d both forgotten why you were fighting. something about billie’s lifestyle, particularly the many women you’ve woken up to using your towels, in your shared bathroom. but it had escalated into much more, insults hastily thrown left and right.

“oh my god, quit bitching.” the tips of her hands pushed your shoulders away from her, causing you to stumble back. disbelief plastered on your face, however, still choosing to ignore it.

“i’ll quit bitching, if you quit being such a god damn whore.” she went silent and you regretted it immediately, her temper wasn’t one to mess with and now that you had, it sparked an inkling of fear.

“what the fuck did you just call me.” she grabbed your shoulders but you quickly pushed her off you, fighting her physically instead of answering the question.

“fucking quit it!” she yelled before losing it and pushing you harshly against the wall, pinning your arms by your side with immense protest from your side.

“repeat what you said.” she said it as if she hadn’t heard you. no, she hadn’t fully believed she heard you.

“you heard me perfectly, billie.” her tongue poked her cheek as she chuckled.

“repeat it, i dare you.” she taunted, expecting your defeat. you’d never usually stood up to her this much, you’d always put up with her bullshit excuses in the past.

“i asked you to quit being a whore.” she nodded her head a couple times, taking in your words.

“i was hoping i’d misheard you.” her eyes tore past your facade, staring deep into your own.

“nope.” you’d mustered all the confidence you had left, knowing you’d break within the next minute. your hands were already numb from the force at which she had your wrists locked to the wall.

“i think you should take some time to reevaluate.” she suggested, moving dangerously close to your face.

“hm, i don’t think i need to.” she pushed her body against yours as you groaned, her lips brushing yours when she opened them to speak again.

“no? i mean it’s hypocritical really.” you raised your brow and she fake-pouted, mocking you.

“how the fuck is it hypocritical?” her clothed breasts were pushed up against yours, and you’d lingered on the thought for a second to long, but you kept up the strong face.

“don’t act like your not a little whore yourself.” she was teasing you purely for her amusement now, the fight long forgotten. her focus had moved to breaking you. cracking you open. ruining your perspective of your own innocence.

“i’m not going to entertain this for your pleasure, billie. fuck off.” she mocked your tone of voice and you rolled your eyes, she was so fucking childish.

“trust me i’ve got an entirely different view of what my pleasure is. teasing you barely makes top fifty.” she retorted, dismissing any hint of enjoyment in talking to you.

“top fifty? what an honor.” it was your turn to mock her, and she lifted your chin, her eye’s menacing as she looked at you.

“you’re such a fuckin’ brat.” she shook her head, reflecting on her words.

“it turns you on doesn’t it.” this time you’d truly caught her off guard, as her expression visibly shifted.

“what’s got you so brave today?” she deflected from the comment, neither affirming nor denying.

“maybe I’m just sick of your bullshit.” you brought the heated conversation back to the topic of your fight.

“my bullshit?” she seethed, daring you to voice what exactly her bullshit was.

“yes your fucking bullshit. your out here fucking different girls every night, which i wouldn’t have a problem with if you weren’t so goddamn loud, and if they had the common decency not to use my towels. i’m doing like twenty loads of laundry each week!” she had to stop herself from laughing at your outburst.

“this is all over some fuckin’ towels?” she raised her brow in disbelief.

“no! it’s the principle!” frustration coated your words, she didn’t get it.

“so all i’m getting from this is that you’re jealous.” she shrugged her shoulders and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. she kept her tone calm and collected, while you were practically raging at her.

“wha- jealous? how the fuck did you come up with that nonsense?” she chuckled when you defended yourself.

“nonsense is a bit dramatic, babe.” she licked her teeth, the term of endearment catching you off guard.

“don’t call me that.” you huffed, she was no longer holding you against your will, and it had come to your attention. you weren’t fully sure why you were still stationed against the wall, giving her the space to tower over you.

“why not?” she teased, this was all a game to her.

“because it’s not going to be that easy to get into my pants.” she laughed softly again.

“and what makes you think that’s what i want?” she poked her cheek with her tongue, hypocritically staring at your lips.

“you’re not the best at hiding it.” she smiled though you thought she’d take offense to the comment.

“yeah? i think you like the attention though.” she bit her lip as she leaned in, closer to your face, testing the waters before she made any sort of commitment.

“mm, maybe.” you shrugged your shoulders playfully but she just kept staring down at you.

“so are you gonna admit it or not?” she tilted her head in question.

“admit what?” she shook her head slightly, as if to warn you not to play dumb.

“admit you want this,” she tightened her grasp on your waist, “admit you want me.”

“nope.” she bit her lip at your response, god it turned her on when you denied her.

“that’s a shame.” she grabbed your chin and her lips met yours, hot and fiery as she pushed you further into the wall. you kissed her back almost instantly, not welcoming her, but submitting to her as if you had no choice. your rationality had fled but you couldn’t care less, her lips too soft, too plump, too warm to think about anything else.

“damn.” she broke away, as breathless as you, her heart racing yours.

“yeah, uh. that was-” you were flustered, not knowing what to do with yourself or your words.

“js’ shut up.” she brought her lips to yours again, this time forcing herself into your mouth, tongues dancing as she backed you through the door and into her bedroom. she continued kissing you while she took control of your movements, only breaking away to push you onto the bed.

“billie.” you called as she unzipped her jeans, soon doing the same to yours.

“mhm? get used to saying’ that.” you rolled your eyes, continuing your previous sentence.

“how many girls have you fucked in this bed?” she raised an eyebrow, figuring out wether you were serious or not.

“why? jealous?” she didn’t answer the question.

“not by a long shot, just curious.”

“mhm. sure.” she ignored the question completely, forgetting about what you’d said.

“open up.” she gestured to your mouth, and soon her saliva met the back of your throat, as she stared at you, silently instructing you to swallow.

“look who’s bein’ a good girl all of a sudden. such a slut, taking everything i give you.” her words were contradictory, but you didn’t bother pointing it out, blaming it on her chaotic mind.

“nothin’ to say?” her strap dug into your thigh when she hovered above your face.

“fuck y-” she smirks as she breaks up your words with the tip of her strap gliding across your entrance.

“what was that?” your face shys away from her, eyes closing and turning your head to the side. she makes an effort to express her discontent with this, pulling your face by your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

“bil.” your plea didn’t go unnoticed and she held your hips to stop you from squirming.

“what?” you pouted when she didn’t move from her position.

“billie.” she bit her lip, enjoying how filthy her name sounded when it came out of your lips like that.

“you can keep whining my name but it won’t tell me what you want.” she shrugged her shoulders, her lips tracing patterns against your neck as your breaths grew heavy.

“please, i need-” she sunk her strap into you slightly, stealing way your breath as your mouth fell open. god she wanted to take a picture, having you like this was so hot.

“hm? what do you need? admit it baby, come on.” you still didn’t reply, testing her patience.

“okay, i’ll help you out a bit yeah? do you want this? my strap?” she wished she was recording, having had no proof of you agreeing to her words when you nodded your head.

“yes, bil. please.” she would’ve teased you further, but she couldn’t resist pushing into you. losing herself in the process.

“i want you.” you’d said once your walls had adjusted to her size, clenching around it in attempt for friction.

“if only you could see yourself now, my whore.” she smirked down at you, gliding her strap in and out very subtly watching you fall apart.

“mm, billie.” you gave in, moaning her name openly now, watching her enjoy it more than she’d ever let on.

“mhm? what’s up baby?” her hands travelled around your breasts, warm against her skin.

“harder pl-please.” now she really wished she’d been recording.

“what was that?” she asked you to repeat yourself, fastening her hands on your hips as she continued diving into you.

“billie.” her movements quickened, sending you back against the pillow.

“i didn’t hear you, babe.” her grin was all you needed to see to know she definitely had heard you.

“harder please.” you whined again, for the last time you hoped.

“god, you’re sexy.” her teeth pulled her lip back as she watched you come undone on her strap, begging for release and then begging for more.

[varpusvaras]

Roy stands in front of the stove and stares at the soup.

He watches it simmering, the surface gently bubbling every now and then, and he tries not to think too much.

It's been pretty hard, lately, not to think too much, but he has to do it, because if he starts to think, he will get angry again.

Roy can't afford to get angry. Not yet, anyway.

He stares at the simmering soup until it is ready, and he turns the stove off and takes the pan off of it, and he takes the nice bowl out of the dishwasher and starts to ladel the soup in it, because, damn it, he is using the nice bowl for this. Would it be safer to use the less nice ones? Maybe, but Roy doesn't feel like playing it safe and behaving like the nice bowl is above this.

He is getting way too agitated about bowls. Roy stops, breathes in the herbal scent of the soup, and continues to get the soup from the pan into the nice bowl. He then gets the high glass from the cabinet, because the nice bowl of soup needs a nice glass of water to go with it.

He then takes both and makes his way to the bedroom.

He stops at the doorway.

The ceiling is off, because Jason's eyes and head can't really handle too much light right now, but the desk light on Roy's side of the bed is on. Lian is laying on that side of the bed, curled as close to Jason as she can, with a book in her hands. It's one of Jason's, though Roy can't see which one from where he is standing, but the words he can hear Lian softly reading out make it sound very English.

Jason's eyes are closed, but his head is turned ever so slightly towards Lian, and from how he is breathing, Roy knows that he is awake.

It is something that any other time would only make Roy's heart swell with love and happiness, but right now, there is an ugly, bitter taste all over it, preventing him from truly enjoying it.

He clears his throat a bit. Lian turns to look at him over her shoulder, sees the bowl and the glass, and she takes the book and scoots to the edge of the bed.

"Lian."

Lian looks at him little pleadingly, even though by now, she already knows the answer.

Roy shakes his head. Lian turns her eyes down. She puts the book on the nightstand, and reaches to wrap her fingers around Jason's for a second, before she slides off of the bed. Roy steps into the room to get away from the doorway, so she can get past him and out of the bedroom.

"Thank you", Roy whispers to her as she walks past him. He then nudges the door closed and walks up to the bed.

He turns on the desk light on Jason's side of the bed. Jason twitches a little, his eyes flutterin and his brow pinching a bit.

"Sorry", Roy murmurs. He puts the bowl and the glass on the nightstand to have both his hands free. "I'm gonna move you up a little."

It's a familiar dance for both of them by now. Jason hums affirmatively, Roy steadies his back and neck and pulls him up a little against the headboard. Jason's jaw clenches because by now, the painkillers have stopped working and he is more lucid and definitely more aware of everything that is going on with his body, but he wants it this way, because being more lucid means that he can kind of eat on his own.

'Kind of' in this context means that he can swallow without spewing anything on himself, and that is something that Jason is willing to take, even if it comes with more pain.

Jason opens his eyes when Roy lets go off him to pick the bowl back up.

"How're you feeling?" Roy asks. He tries not to ask it every time Jason is even marginally awake, but it's difficult, because every time Jason closes his eyes, Roy can only see him laying there, bloody and still and him looming over his body.

It's been weeks now, and still, Roy can't seem to forget how he had felt back there, when for a one moment, he had thought that Jason was dead.

Jason just breathes for a moment. He has to do it a lot, as he cannot breathe very deeply at all.

"Fine", he says, which Roy deciphers as meaning not worse than the last time you asked. It's good enough, all things considered.

"That's good." Roy gets some soup on the spoon. Jason's left hand is in theory capable of holding onto things, but in reality, it still shakes too much for him to be able to do anything precise with it. So what he gets is Roy spooning the soup for him.

They don't speak while Jason eats. Just the act of eating takes too much of his energy, and he needs to focus to it in order to get it done. It is all familiar by now as well. After Jason has gotten at least some food and water down his throat, Roy will give him his next dose of painkillers, and then talk to him while he falls back asleep.

Roy knows that Jason hates it.

They have talked more than enough of their childhoods at this point. Roy knows all the unsavory details of Jason's story, and right now, at this moment, the ones of his mother, almost always unresponsive towards the end, with Jason trying his best to keep her alive by any means necessary, are at the forefront of both of their minds. Roy knows it.

He also knows that it is the one place Jason never wanted to end up in, and he's been there once already.

It is why he doesn't want Lian to see him right now, no matter how much he adores her. Jason had been alone, back then, taking all the responsibilities of adults when he had just hit double digits in age, and the last thing he wants is to make another kid go through the same. It's not the same, since Roy is there, but it is too close for Jason nevertheless.

Roy has tried to explain it to her, so she wouldn't feel like she's done something wrong. She understands, but with that understanding, has only come the need to help even more.

Roy loves her so much. He wishes that she never has to go through anything bad in her life.

Roy also loves Jason, and while he knows that there is nothing that he could've done for him before, he will never forgive himself for not protecting him now.

He doesn't say that out loud. Not yet.

Jason finishes half of the bowl before he just simply cannot make himself eat more. He accepts enough sips of the water to not be dehydrated and to get the painkillers down. Roy lets him stay sitting for a moment longer, before he lowers him back down onto the bed.

He says other things out loud. Simple things. Simple, loving things, that don't reveal how much Roy wishes to take all the pain from Jason and give it back. He will, eventually, because Roy knows Jason, and he knows that for Jason, saying those things out loud is love as well.

But not yet. Not yet, simply for the fact that if Roy does so, he will have to do as he says, right there, right then, and he cannot yet.

Not yet, when Jason still needs him like this.

Jason closes his eyes, slowly, as the awareness in them dims, and eventually his breathing evens out, as much as the painkillers allow him to not care about everything in him that has been broken.

Roy watches him sleep.

He is happy, now, that he listened to Jason and never told anyone, not even Dick, about them. As much as Roy loves Dick, he is now a safety hazard, a possible breach in this place that Jason has for himself. A place that no one will know to come and look for him from.

That is good. That is exactly what he needs right now.

That is exactly what Roy wants.

Batman will not be able to find Jason. He will not be able to come for him.

No. When the time comes, it will be Roy who comes for the Batman, and when that time comes, Roy will be ready for it.

[1x20]

hello and welcome to my tutorial on how to create gifs like this one! full explanation under the cut, but if you wanted to take a little peek at the gifset attached to this tutorial, here ya go!

for the purposes of this tutorial i am assuming you know

how to make a gif

what vhs footage looks like

STEP ONE: MAKING YOUR GIF

choose your footage and plug it into your desired software of choice! i use photoshop for this so i can only attest to the efficacy of these methods in that context

as for shot selection, you could feasibly choose anything. however, i prefer shots without too much movement in them - makes it look more like a home video.

because of the heavy amount of colors and filters, i'd recommend a gif somewhere around the 40-50 frames! but of course you can play around.

oh i also set the frame delay to 0.08 seconds. this is slower than most gifmakers tend to set theirs, but it makes it run buttery smooth imo.

STEP TWO: MAKING THE COLORING

here's where we get vhs specific. if you're unfamiliar with vhs footage, i recommend clicking through this youtube playlist! if you're not interested in the coloring, skip to step three (smart object fuckery + filters)

now while making a set i tend to choose some primary colors for my gifs. in the gifset i linked above, i chose to work with blue and orange-y yellow. in some of the other gifs i'll be using as examples (from an unfinished set) i chose green and yellow.

to create the above coloring i generally use these steps:

1) curves

i'm a maniac so i use the same curves layer to initially edit the luminosity AND colors of my gifs. the purpose of this layer is to edit brightness/contrast like i normally would and already start the process of changing the colors a little bit. this is my curves layer for the blue house gif:

to make the gif go from the left image to the right image:

as you can see i used the brightening curves to make the footage a whole lot lighter. i also increased the reds to get rid of the cyan tint a lot of blue footage has, slightly increased the blues, and once again decreased the greens to get rid of any cyan. this does make the blue hue a bit more purple, which is a nice bonus!

as for the gif of the boy, that one's a little harder to show a before and after for, but i'lls how the curves for good measure:

the original shot was already quite bright so i only edited the brightness a litttle bit. because i knew i wanted the gif to be green and yellow, i increased the greens, decreased the reds (except in the shadows), and decreased the blues (to get yellow)

2) channel mixer

now the channel mixer layer takes a little getting used to so i recommend experimenting. ALWAYS USE THIS LAYER ON THE COLOR BLENDING MODE for a more even result.

i use channel mixers to sort of... unify the colors a bit more. for the house gif, for example, i increased the blue channel to +110% blue, but decreased the blue in the red (-12%) to retain the yellow in the window.

if you want me to explain this more in depth, send an ask! it'll be kinda longwinded though

before / after of the boy gif with curves/channel mixer.

3) levels

this is where it starts looking more vhs-y! vhs footage has light shadows and dark highlights.

first, set your levels layer to luminosity blending mode to retain your beautiful colors.

then, crunch the hell out of your gif to make it very... mid.

this may feel a little wrong at first but i prommy it'll look okay at the end. a before/after for the boy:

now that's starting to look familiar right?

4) color fill/gradient map

because i want to unify my colors/make sure my gif is saturated, i usually add either a color fill or gradient map layer. in the case of the house, i chose to go with a dark blue color fill:

because the coloring of the boy gif was a little more complex, i decided to go with a brown to green gradient map.

this will make the shadows yellow, and the highlights green.

BOTH THESE LAYERS ARE SET TO OVERLAY. i usually fiddle with the opacity of them until i like it, but it's anywhere from 7% - 17% depending on what i feel like that day

5) curves (again)

this layer is probably useless but i do it anyway to make myself feel better. this is just a regular curse layer to up the brightness a tiiiiny bit and amke sure everything's clear. also it helps counteract the darkness your overlay color will add in.

6) color balance

this is my most subtle layer so i won't be able to show before and after but i fiddle with the color distribution a little until i'm satisfied. set this layer to color blending 'cause that's what you wanna affect!

i decided i wanted the house gif shadows to be a little more purple, for example, so i added in red (+3), magenta (-1) and blue (+1). etc etc. do what feels good!

STEP THREE: SMART OBJECT FUCKERY AND FILTERS

OKAY that was a lot. sorry or you're welcome. but good news: now's the fun part. convert your animation to a timeline, then select both your coloring and gif layers, right click, and select convert to smart object.

now that your gif's a smart object, i usually crop it. i tend make vhs aes gifs a 4:3 ratio (so 540 x 405 px) because that's what vhs footage was usually recorded as! crop your gif, resize, and then we can continue.

1) color bleeding

vhs footage usually bleeds its colors - this manifests as a short of... weird subtle halo around any object. the way to recreate this in photoshop is to duplicate your smart object.

set your copied smart object to color blending. now move it to the side a couple of pixels (i usually do around 5px, but you do you!)

as you can see, the tree and chimney (and everything else but less prominently) have a yellow shadow to them. this is exactly what we want!

2) filters

now's the time to add your filters and make it look like shit (but on purpose!) first, select both smart objects and convert to smart object again. this will ensure the filters apply to all layers evenly.

i use the following filters:

unsharp mask (amt 35%, radius 4px) - this will subtly add some sharpening but only on the edges of objects

add noise (amt 7.5%, distr. uniform, not monochromatic) - this will add the signature vhs grain.

box blur (2px) - i edit this to be 75% opacity with the little arrows to the right, just to make sure you can still make SOMETHING out when you're looking at the gif. MAKE SURE THIS FILTER IS ON TOP OF YOUR NOISE FILTER. tumblr will kill your gif otherwise

4) ONE LAST THING

usually at this point i'm not happy with either the saturation or levels. (usually the levels). so on top of your smart object, add another saturation or levels layer and fuck around!

in the case of the house gif, i thought it was too bright still so i set my output levels to 13 and 216. for the boy, i thought the shadows were too dark, so i set my shadow output to 11.

BEFORE & AFTER:

aaaand that's it! thanks for reading! if you have any questions, feel free to come to my askbox, i'm always happy to explain my process. happy giffing 🥰

[severinageto]

A terrible idea (or just things without context) — ONE SHOT

Satoru had a long, exhausting day. Boring meetings with the higher-ups, endless administrative work, and Panda, Maki, and Toge somehow more unbearable than usual. So when he got back to his apartment, he didn’t bother picking up a book or turning on any of his consoles. He just dropped himself onto one of his expensive sofas and, without even taking off his blindfold, closed his eyes.

His hair fell in shining waves, his skin smooth and pale like fine porcelain, his cheeks flushed, his sleepy cat-like eyes, and his slightly parted lips—all coming together in that same exquisite way Suguru always did. To top it off, with one finger resting on his lips and lying on his side on the bed, his eyes sparkled with that same look he used to give Satoru years ago, full of unspoken desires.

“Why don’t you lie down next to me, Satoru?”

Satoru knocked himself on the head a couple of times. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. You’ve taken so long. Weeks, months, years. I think it’s finally time, Satoru.”

Satoru looked out the window. None of this made any sense. He searched for something out of place, some sign of where he was, but his room looked exactly the same as always. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up here.

“Time for what?”

Suguru sat up in bed, motioning for Satoru to come closer. Naturally, he did. Suguru cupped his face, kissed him softly on the lips, and, very slowly, whispered:

“To kill me.”

Suddenly, the room filled with a black haze, surrounding them both. Suguru began to laugh and rubbed his right arm as if it hurt.

“This is a dream,” Satoru murmured.

“Took you long enough to figure it out. Well…” Suguru started combing his hair with his fingers, and Satoru noticed them beginning to stain with blood. “…that’s my point. You’re always late.”

Satoru grunted. He knew what was coming, but, as always, he wanted to try probing his subconscious just a little further.

“Suguru, do you…do you want me to kill you?” he asked softly, in the gentlest way he could, given the nature of the question.

Suguru stopped laughing.

“I’m already dead, Satoru.”

Satoru shot up, his heart pounding intensely as the memory of the nightmare still lingered. His breathing was rapid, almost gasping, and he felt a few cold drops of sweat trickle down his forehead. For a few moments, he stared at the ceiling, as if that could somehow erase Suguru’s words from his mind. He could feel the weight of the anguish in his chest, the emptiness that vision left behind, but little by little, his breathing steadied. With a deep sigh, he got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. As he calmed down, he opened the fridge, grabbed a tub of ice cream and a can of Coke, then sat down again and started eating in silence.

Suddenly, an idea struck him like lightning. He picked up his phone and opened Instagram.

“Every time I dream about you, it’s because…” he murmured to himself, typing Suguru’s username. “…aha.”

A genuine smile spread across his face when he saw that, once again, Suguru had unblocked him.

What a terrible idea.

A moment earlier

Suguru was rubbing lotion onto his hands, taking his time, reflecting on his day.

Three exorcisms, two meetings with investors, and one interview. A pretty busy day, but they were all like that. The life of a leader wasn't easy-there were countless things that needed his attention, which kept him running around constantly. He didn't complain, but he was tired. Really tired.

Miguel and Larue noticed how his busy life was taking a toll on him, so they offered to take the twins on a weekend trip. At first, Suguru refused, saying he wasn't tired, that they were imagining things, that it wasn't necessary. But after the sorcerers listed some things he could do in peace-like taking a bubble bath, having a few glasses of wine, or watching a movie-he decided to go along with it.

Maybe it was exactly what he needed.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiled, and began combing his hair. It felt strange to have time for himself; he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

"What can I do now?" he wondered aloud, inspecting his eyes up close. He grunted slightly, noticing his skin looked a bit dry.

"Right. Good idea, Suguru."

He went to the bathroom, applied a face mask, and set a twenty-minute timer on his phone. Then, he lay down on his bed.

"Just while it sets," he murmured, yawning loudly before closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he found himself in a store he hadn't visited in years-since his teenage days, to be exact. He felt thirsty, craving one of those sodas he used to get there all the time. He started looking for it in the coolers, but they weren't there. Instead, he found four doors, each in a different color: yellow, red, and blue. He clicked his tongue. He didn't want to go through any of them. He turned around to leave the store, but the place had turned into an ethereal force field.

"I hate these dreams!" he exclaimed as he turned back to face the doors. He examined them and, after a minute, figured out the obvious. He let out a deep sigh.

"It's not fair that you get two colors," he muttered, opening the blue door.

"It's not my fault," said Satoru, appearing through it. "You know that."

"What are you doing here?"

Satoru shrugged.

"It's your subconscious, bangs."

Suguru looked at him for a moment. The Satoru in his dream looked exactly as he had almost ten years ago. Slightly longer, fluffier hair, the school uniform, and his ever-present glasses. He laughed. He'd been thinking about his teenage years a lot lately, so this made sense.

"Why do you look like a kid?"

"'Like a kid?!"

Suguru burst out laughing.

"You know what I mean."

Satoru pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and began chewing it.

"I think it's because of the door color."

Suguru glanced at the doors again, then raised an eyebrow.

"Who's behind the yellow one?"

"You, if you hadn't killed all those people. Wanna see?"

Suguru scoffed, then shook his head.

"Not interested."

"You scared, bangs?"

Geto moved away from Satoru and stood beside the red door. He put his hand on the doorknob and smiled flirtatiously.

"I assume behind this one is you in that annoying mummy getup."

Satoru laughed and offered him another candy.

"You love it. Admit it."

"Uh-huh."

Gojo got close, their noses almost touching. Suguru swallowed. He knew this was a dream, but even so, he couldn't shake the guilt he felt getting aroused by a fifteen-year-old kid.

"You love all my versions," Satoru whispered, bringing his hand down toward Suguru's crotch.

"Okay, okay, if this is gonna be one of those dreams, I'll take the mummy!" Suguru blurted, moving away and cracking open the red door.

"Too late to change your mind," Satoru replied, looking over his glasses.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if you open it, you get neither. Know why?"

Suguru sighed. He already knew the answer.

"Because blue and red make purple."

"Bingo! And what's behind the purple door?"

As soon as he said this, a fourth door appeared. Suguru's heart began to pound, a nearly paralyzing fear creeping over him.

"I don't know..."

"Nah, you know, Suguru."

Geto didn't answer. He backed away from Satoru, desperately searching for an escape.

"I want to wake up."

Satoru walked over, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled him toward the door.

"Open it first," he ordered.

"Let go of me, jerk!"

Gojo tightened his grip, and Suguru started to feel short of breath.

"We're in this fucking mess because of you, Suguru, so open it!"

Suguru shook his head, repeating over and over that he wanted to wake up. Satoru released him, only to grab him by the hair.

"WANT TO WAKE UP? OPEN IT!" He threw him against the door, and Suguru had no choice.

As he opened it, Satoru walked through, and the teenage version vanished.

Suguru, catching his breath, looked at this version of the albino with curiosity. It was the same Satoru he'd seen less than six months ago, but instead of his blindfold, he wore a black headband over his eyes.

"Suguru! Are you alright?" Gojo knelt down and hugged him, thin tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Suguru. Please, forgive me. I had no choice. You...you didn't leave me a choice."

Suguru didn't reply. He just clung to him, fear freezing him in place. He hated being there, hated how real it felt, and hated finding comfort in this Satoru-his executioner. Gojo stroked his hair, continuing to beg for forgiveness.

Fed up with being trapped in his own mind, Suguru broke free from Satoru's arms. He looked at him closely and saw, even under the thick headband, that Satoru's eyes were full of pleading.

"How... how can I ever escape you, Satoru?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Satoru slid the headband down to his neck, his tear-filled eyes locked on Suguru's.

"You can't."

Suguru woke up suddenly to the sound of his alarm, his heart pounding like he’d run a marathon. Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom, ripped off his mask, and his body doubled over, tense, as he vomited. Panting, he sat beside the toilet, waiting for his breathing to steady. His mind was blank, and all he knew was that he wanted to feel better and forget what he had dreamed. At that moment, he wasn’t asking life for anything more.

Suddenly, without knowing why, he reached for his phone. He opened Instagram, went to Satoru’s profile, and unblocked him.

“If I can’t beat you, then…” he murmured, pulling out another mask.

What a terrible idea.

A moment later

Satoru didn't wait even a second to message Suguru. He knew Suguru had unblocked him so he'd see his photos and stories, but more than anything, so he'd talk to him. This game was a familiar one for both of them.

You unblocked me, Geto-sama.

Suguru noticed his phone light up six minutes after unblocking him. Seeing Satoru's name and photo, the weight of that dream lifted, if only for a moment. He opened the chat and set a nine-minute timer. It seemed like a reasonable amount of time to leave him on read.

When Satoru saw his message had been read, he scoffed but felt his heart speed up. Even though he knew Suguru was doing it on purpose, a part of him feared he'd get blocked again before he even got a reply.

Once the timer went off, Suguru grinned.

Mischievously, he began typing nonsense in the message kithout sending it, just so Satoru would see the "typing" bubble for a few minutes. Occasionally, he'd stop, letting the bubble disappear, then start again-an orchestrated symphony to get on the albino's nerves.

Satoru, on the other end, had an unprecedented urge to wring his neck.

Suguru finally stopped typing. He waited a minute, sighed, and then picked up the phone again.

I suppose I did, Gojo Satoru.

—————-continues in https://archiveofourown.org/works/60470752

[muzzlemouths]

Apologies if this has been asked already, but is there any chance we might get to see what those conversations between sun and moon were like? I just started reading (Don't) Fear the Reaper and now that I know they talk when Sun is quiet, I can't help but wonder what's being said.

When I eventually get around to writing the follow-up fic (which will explore the story from Sun's pov) you'll get to see each and every conversation they had!

Since I'm not sure when that will be (and I have a rough version of what it might look like already written up in my notes) I'll go ahead and drop it here for you to chew on in the meantime :3

This conversation occurs in their personal cabin when y/n first finds out about Moon's existence. I've left the original lines in for context, but they'll be indented so you know what is and isn't internal.

“We?” You watch with growing curiosity as he freezes in place and winces, like he’s just been caught in a lie.

“Sun—”

“I know, I know.”

“Fix it.”

There it is, again. That distant expression like his mind is somewhere else entirely. You aren’t sure if robots are capable of internal monologue, but if they are, his must be pretty intense for the absolutely guilty expression he wears before smothering it with another mocked up smile.  “Me and…Moon,” he answers, voice pitifully small. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s better to be honest, isn’t it? They’re going to find out eventually.”

“No. No. You’re going to say something you shouldn’t.”

“I can handle myself in a conversation just fine, thank you very much. I have so fa—”

“You don’t know when to shut up.”

His smile falters, eyes panicked like a child being scolded.

Moon. You recognize the name from the conversation with Oscar earlier, how scared he had looked from the mere mention of it. You aren’t entirely sure how to navigate this situation, but if this Moon has everyone up in arms, there must be a good reason for it, right? “Is he…dangerous?” 

“....Well? Am I?”

“Oh, now you want me to talk?”

“Just thought they should know all the grisly details, since you seem keen on being truthful.”

Sun hesitates to answer. He bides his time by tending to your ankle, instead. Carefully drawing your shoe away like a reverse cinderella, then gently turning your ankle in all directions to get a feel for the damage. 

“You’re not being fair.”

“Go on, tell them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide—”

“Tell them how I butchered her. How I didn’t stop until her pulse flickered under my hand.”

“Moon—”

“Tell them how much I regret letting go.”

“I—”

“Tell them how often we think about her blood caking our palms. How relieving it felt to finally—”

“It doesn’t feel broken,” he tells you. 

“Don’t ignore me.”

“I think you might have just twisted it. Should be in tip-top shape by morning!” He faces you with that telltale smile once more, only for it to droop significantly when you don’t immediately mirror his relief. It’s not the answer you’re waiting for. 

“Hypocrite.” Moon snarls. “Cornered yourself. Now you’re the animal stuck in a trap.”

“Little rabbit…” he sighs. “You are very, very lucky, you know. This could have been much worse.”

Pebbles climb in your throat, brought on by his words. Each bigger than the last and taking up space where you need to breathe. They rattle with every inhale, collecting in great heaps the longer he fits you with that emotionless stare. You don’t think he’s referring to your ankle, anymore.

“Cruel. Warning a rabbit with one foot already in a trap.”

“They’re smarter than you think.”

“It’s too late to save them.”

“...I know.”

“Then why bother?”

A twig snaps just outside the door, relieving you of his piercing gaze as his neck wrenches to follow it. Just a squirrel.  “Sun, I—” “Anyone can be dangerous,” he whispers, eyes still zeroed in on the animal.

“Caaareful.”

“I told you, it’s better to be honest," Sun's optics twitch ever briefly. "They ought to know it isn’t you they should fear.”

[trans-axolotl]

Hi! I'm currently researching prison abolition, both for the sake of becoming better educated about it and because I plan to write a paper on it for class. Two questions for you:

First— what books/articles/videos/any other resources on the topic would you recommend? I've been doing some research on my own, but I'd love to have some more sources.

Second— what solutions do abolitionists offer for people who pose immediate threats? I'm struggling to find a solid answer on this. I know it's going to vary based on who you ask! Just looking for some possible answers. Mostly, I've seen this question answered by redirecting focus towards prevention of the circumstances that lead to this kind of behavior, and obviously that is important and should be the main focus, but I'm not sure what possible methods there are for people who already exist who are a threat to others' safety.

(I especially have a hard time with this question because I'm coming at it from an anarchist lens and I don't believe there should be any sort of carceral system or any governing power, but I don't know how this sort of problem can be dealt with without there being some sort of power structure).

If you don't have an answer for that second one, or just don't feel like answering, that's alright! Thanks for your time :))

Hi!

I'm going to list out a bunch of random resources--this is a very incomplete list, just with a few things that came to mind first.

Articles:

Journalism from currently incarcerated writers:

Prison Journalism Project

Scalawag Abolition Week

Marshall Prison Project

Prison Writing on Prison Abolition by empty cages collective and incarcerated workers organizing committee

Other articles:

Truthout's Road to Abolition

Reports/infographics/organizations:

Advancing Transgender Justice: Illuminating Trans Lives Behind and Beyond Bars By Vera Institute of Justice and Black and Pink

Critical Resistance.

SWOP behind Bars

HEARD

Books:

Change Everything by Ruth Wilson Gilmore

Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur

Disability Incarcerated by Liat Ben Moshe

We Do This 'Til We Free Us: Abolitionist Organizing and Transforming Justice by Mariame Kaba

Are Prisons Obsolete? By Angela Davis

The New Abolitionists edited by Joy James

Captive Genders: Trans Embodiment and the Prison Industrial Complex by Eric Stanley & Nat Smith

Golden Gulag by Ruth Wilson Gilmore

Beyond Survival: Strategies and Stories from the Transformative Justice Movement edited by Ejeris Dixon and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

In terms of your second question:

short answer, it cannot be a one-size-fits-all solution--any abolitionist future needs to have a wide variety of options for addressing harm that are able to actual address the particular circumstances of harm and meet the needs of the people in that particular context. Harm is an incredibly broad category that can differ so much depending on context. It feels difficult to just give one broad answer for "this is what we do about harm"--it seems necessary to have a different response to someone breaking into your house versus sexual violence versus bigoted physical violence and on and on and on.

Long answer: You're right that a lot of abolitionist thinking focuses on preventing harm and fundamentally changing a lot of the circumstances that are currently causing harm in people's lives. A lot also focusing on rethinking our ideas of safety, violence, harm, and crime, and untangling all the ways a carceral state has shaped our views on those concepts. (this article titled Reclaiming Safety by Mariame Kaba & Andrea J. Ritchie is an important read for thinking about how the concept of safety is constructed in our society). But all that being said, you're right that part of building an abolitionist future requires us to have a way to respond to harm when it does occur, because change doesn't happen overnight and we need those skills now. And these abolitionist responses to harm are something that are already happening now in so many ways in so many different communities and neighborhoods--a lot of people aren't just talking about it using the terminology of prison abolition. For me, it feels really important to start by thinking about what we're already doing and look for ways we can increase our own capacity to respond to harm and to care for our community.

I don't have all the answers, but I'm going to list out some examples of ways that people are already responding to harm without prisons. i don't necessarily think that all of these approaches are applicable to every situation or that they would be the ideal response in a future when we have more options, but i do just want to emphasize that there are things that people are trying right now:

making sure that someone who caused harm isn't able to be in positions of power in organizations/work/community spaces, and making people aware of the harm that was caused.

meeting the material needs of survivors of harm--mutual aid, getting access to housing, resources, etc.

de-escalation training, having people in community equipped to step in to situations where harm is being caused. (i know a few places where this is more-or-less organized--some neighborhoods where people have sort of a neighborhood watch thing going on so people know they can call that group instead of the cops if they need emergency support. )

building up things like peer respite and many other alternatives for supporting people through madness--i have a post discussing the question of alternatives to psych wards for people labeled a "danger to others."

directly intervening in situations where harm is being caused: physically showing up to keep each other safe

financial reparations

community accountability processes focused on creating accountability for bigoted violence, gender based violence, etc.

and a bunch more ideas--I'm not going to list out every possible thing I could think of here.

I'd really recommend reading Beyond Survival, which is a trying to answer some of these questions through looking at examples of things that are already working, and challenges the idea that transformative justice is just community accountability processes where everyone has to sit down at a table together to talk and the survivor just ends up retraumatized. (some authors in the anthology talk in depth about times in which that kind of process would actually increase danger to survivors, in fact.) They also make a lot of room to talk about the experience of being a survivor who has all these complex emotions and feelings towards whoever has caused us harm, and makes a lot of room for messy, complicated feelings of anger or desires for retributive harm.

Some of the examples of transformative justices responses that they share include a public letter campaign to address an abuser who was popular in movement spaces, community created research databases tracking racist violence and murders, community led murder investigations through different tactics including documentary filmmaking, family members stepping in to confront abusers and remove children from unsafe spaces, building up community first aid and medical knowledge to reduce the amount cops get called, a toolkit for transformative justice plans within youth spaces, community defense groups, including groups prepared to do physical defense, and so many more examples of things that people are trying.

I'll also link the creative interventions workbook, which is a really extensive toolkit for thinking of ways to respond to interpersonal violence.

A frequent criticism of prison abolition is that it's not practical--that our suggested responses to harm are impossible and could never work. And I can understand why people respond that way. It can be really frustrating to see people list out a lot of things that wouldn't work yet where you live because your neighbors are bigoted, or you're currently incarcerated, or you live in an inaccessible city with no in person community, etc. That anger feels meaningful, because it highlights just how fucked up it is that those barriers exist and that we don't have more options for community care right now. And at the same time, if we only try ideas based on what is currently practical, we end up just using the same existing frameworks to try to build a new world, and accept the current limits placed on us through the violence of prisons and policing. I think that abolition must be a little impractical to be effective--we need to be able to move beyond what is currently practical within the carceral apparatuses of state violence, and instead work to build in a way that dismantles what the state defines as realistic.

Last thing I'll say is that for me, it is so vital to always remember that prison abolition is a political movement centered in dismantling a white supremacist system that enacts antiblack racist violence on a gigantic scale. It's not just a buzzword to throw around to refer to anything, it's important to stay connected to what this actually about, learn about the radical history and lineage of Black prison abolitionists in the US, instead of misusing and extracting political resources without having reciprocity and solidarity. And also to stay connected to prison resistance movements right now--recognizing that the most important works of abolition are happening in these carceral spaces as we speak.

if any followers have other resources about prison abolition that they want to add on, feel free!

[gamerchrissgf]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐚┇𝐂.𝐒

𝘱𝘵1. 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴.

⌈after a lifetime of being ignored, and the death of her father, taking out her rage against the world the only way she knows how - murder.⌉

⌈pairing⌉ Chris Sturniolo x Sweetpea!reader.

⌈warnings!⌉ mentions of death, killing, drinking, smoking, smut (in later parts)

a/n: in my sweetpea era. I recommend watching it first before reading this lol. I dont wanna spoil anything. Its the same story line but like my own twist to it, and some similarities too. its been pretty good so far. so this is soley inspired off the show with also my own twist.

(Divider by @bernardsbendystraws)

‘People id love too kill…’ you thought. Sitting on the back of the bus between two men, man spreading ‘Men that lack human decency. Lindsey from the corner store who was never really happy to help’ flashing back to the memory.

“Just these please” you announced, barely noticed by her as she smacks her gum with headphones in “Right and I told her she couldn’t get mad at me just because her man wanted me.” She tells her friend over the phone.

‘My shitty boss. For failing to acknowledge my work, justin from work. For his lack of spacial awareness. Actually everyone from work ’ another flashback hits you. “Night!” You say enthusiastically just to be ignored by your boss and fellow employees.

‘My mom for leaving us and never telling us where she went’ flashbacks of you and your sister standing with your father begging your mother not to leave. Pulling yourself out of your daze you look down at your phone at your long list of messages to your sister typing an ‘I miss you’ message and hitting send.

‘My sister for leaving me on read.. on the phone and in life.’ You continue thinking. The man beside you spreads his legs wider knocking you out of your trance. “Im sorry but do you mind closing your legs a little? Im already squished” you ask the man. He just scoffs.

‘My dad. For dying.’ Its not like it was his fault for dying. But he left me completely stranded. On my own. Sure I just turned 21 but im all alone now. My sister leaving me to live with her fiancé in California.

‘My old high school bully. Who made me invisible in school and in life. Christopher Sturniolo. Fucking Christopher Sturniolo. Who made my life a living hell.’ Flashbacks of you walking down the hall. You getting shoved into a locker just for the fucking asshole to laugh with his friends “guys I think I just bumped into a ghost” another time being you being at your locker, he walks over with his friends leaning against the locker by yours “guys did you hear that y/n died? Not like anyone would miss the girl anyways” he announces “I’m not dead I’m literally right here” you say in a hushed manner just for him and his friends to shove past you laughing.

Who subjected me to an endless cycle of psychological abuse. Destroying my self-worth and general context of the world. “Oh my god, do you guys smell that?! It smells like rotting flesh!” He says “shes so fucking weird.” One of his friends chime in. Christopher Sturniolo, for making me pull so much of my hair out, that I had to wear a wig. Christopher Sturniolo, for turning me into a ghost.

Making me forever invisible, and afraid.

*itty bitty time skip*

“We gather here today in honor of the late David Sharp. Who was not only a son to the lovely Barbara sharp. But a father to his two beloved daughters Jasmine and y/n Sharp……” the pastor says as he brutally mispronounces your name. “Thats not my name…” you whisper “hush.” Your sister says nudging you with her knee. “A man of many talents, a man of many friends, a man of many loving employees” you turn looking towards Aj giving him a small wave, just for a little head nod in response.

You’ve known Aj for roughly 2 years. Him working as an assistant to your father. You guys have also hooked up quite a few times. The last time being 2 weeks before your fathers passing. You’ve texted Aj in your down time. Mainly when you’ve felt lonely. Just to receive shit ass responses.

Y/n:

Hey… do you maybe wanna come over tonight?

Watch a movie or something?

Aj:

Cant. W the boys.

Y/n:

Oh okay!

Maybe some other time!

Aj:

👍🏼

Before you know it the funeral is over and your standing out front with your sister. Thanking people for coming. You hear a group of guys laughing. ‘Who the fuck laughs at a funeral?’ Looking towards the laughter you see him. “What is he doing here?!” You ask your sister. “Him and his brothers came back to pay respects to dad. Since Jim was a close friend of dad’s…” she says

“Matt, Nick, Chris thank you guys for coming!” She says giving the three boys a hug. You stood there with your head low. “Of course sorry for your loss. I cant Imagine how hard it must be for you guys right now…… hey y/n” Nick says while returning the hug to your sister and patting your arm gently. “How have you been kiddo?” Matt asks. You feel his eyes on you. Looking up you see chris staring at you. “Well my dad died so…” you say “y/n dont be weird” your sister says while nudging your arm. You start messing with the stands of your hair on the back of your neck

It is weird though. You haven’t seen the triplets since you all graduated high school. You getting a normal job at you local newspaper office and them moving to L.A. to be youtubers. I mean of course you guys always had dinners at each other’s house due to your parents being high school friends and your sister being best friends with Matt.

Probably because they’ve also dated in high school for about 10 months. Breaking it off because they both decided being friends would be much easier “You’re not still doing that are you?” Chris asks. Snapping you out of your thoughts you quickly move your hand letting out a small gasp. You look at him before excusing your self and walking away.

“Hey… Ive tried looking for you… when did you start smoking?” She asks with a disgust look on her face. “Since dad died. Only thing helping me stay focused. It was good catching up” you say. “Yea I havent seen the boys in ages. Ive missed them… So ive been thinking we need to sell the house y/n” Jas says breaking the silence “and dads business probably” she adds. “What? B-but I live in the house Jas.” You stammer out. “There are other houses.” She says bluntly

“Well Tom and I wanna buy a place for the kids and us so…” she says “why dont you move back? We could be like a little family!” You try to lift the mood. “Are you serious?” She asks rolling her eyes. “Its settled. Chris is helping. He has a friend in real estate so its final” she says looking down at her phone “Jas no. You cant. Not him.” You say as she cuts you off getting into the back of her uber “lets talk about this later okay? Ill call you… hey the boys are going to luckys tonight for a reunion drink. You should go.” She says trying to make you feel better

“Are you serious?” You ask “what?” She asks “he pretended like he was better than me. Did you not hear what he said to me. He hates me.” You ramble on. “Who chris? Maybe he doesnt. This could be good for you, ya know? A new start?” She says “well dads dead so” you state clearly annoyed and mad at everything thats happened in the past 10 minutes “yea I know. He was my dad too. You need to get over this whole Chris thing. Go to Luckys you might actually enjoy yourself.” She says rolling up the window as the car pulls off.

*another itty bitty time skip brought to you by yours truly*

‘There is no fucking way I actually showed up to this.’ You thought standing outside of the pub. Already a few glasses of wine in. You dont want to be labeled as a lightweight but you just turned 21 so ofc you’d get drunk easily not participating in underage drinking and high school parties.

Walking into the pub, you see many people. Some old cliques from school. Then you see him. Having that liquid courage and already leaving heated voicemails on your sister’s phone you stomp your way over to him.

“Christopher! CHRIS!” You yell grabbing onto his arm. “I need you to fuck off and stay out of my life” you say grabbing onto his forearm pulling him towards you “Oh hey y/n… are you good? Do you need some water?” He says with a smug grin on his face. “No I dont need fucking water I need you to fuck off!” You say “I have no idea what your talking about kid.” He says stepping towards you. Leaving little to no space between the both of you.

“You know exactly what im talking about! You ruined my life in high school you made my life a living fucking hell. My dads dead. Your selling my house! And now your ruining my life again!” You yell. Drawing attention from Matt and Nick as they walk over “Hey y/n… you dont look too good right now. Are you drunk do you need a ride home?” Matt asks “No what I need is for Chris to fuck off and stop ruining my life!” You yell tears welling up in your eyes. “Listen kid. I didnt give a shit about you in high school and I dont give a shit about you now. So all your shitty life problems thats on you. Get the fuck off me.” He says shoving you back.

“Hey are you-” you cut Nick off snatching your arm away from him stumbling out of the pub. Walking across the road a man bumps shoulders with you causing you to stumble some more. You walk down a flight of stairs that lead to a creek under an overpass. Sitting there lost in thought you dig through your purse finding your dads old pocket knife. “Lifes shit without you.” You mumble.

You get lost in thought when a man comes up behind you, taking a piss on the wall and hitting you with his piss “hey! What the fuck?! Did you not see me sitting here?!” You yell at the man “Oh shit sorry sweetpea didnt see you sitting there.” He says chuckling as he turns around to walk off.

Clearly still pissed off with your interaction with Chris and at the man that just pissed on you. You walk up behind him kicking him in the back of the leg “Do you see me now?!” You yell at the man “what the fuck, oh your in some shit now” he says walking towards you. Walking back your back hits the railing and hes getting to close to you.

With the knife in hand you jab it towards his stomach “Ah fuck! You fucking cut me! My favorite shirt! You ruined it! Your so done!” As he steps towards you, your mind goes blank as you jab him in the neck. The man falls to the ground and you straddle him as you stab him repeatedly “do you see me now?! Huh?! Now do you see me! Do you see me now!” Watching the life fade from his eyes you snap back into reality.

“Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You say with panic in your eyes. Dropping the knife looking down at your body. Your covered in the mans blood you can taste it on your lips. In a rush you push the mans body into the creek picking up the knife. You look down at your outfit again zipping up your rain coat and pulling up the hood making a beeline straight to your home.

Walking into your home and hurriedly locking the door you run straight to your bathroom looking at yourself in the mirror. Closing your eyes you get a flashback from your last conversation with your father.

“What happened here?” He says pointing at your hand “oh nothing, justin just bumped into me” you say “you need to stop letting people piss all over you kid. You need to be more ‘RAHR!’ You know?” He says. Shaking your head you open your eyes looking into the mirror.

“RAAAAAAAAHRRRRR” you scream.

a/n: pt 1 wooo. It feels long and ive skipped a lot of parts from the show but I swear this is just the beginning. Pt2 idk when we’ll see how this does. My hands just hurt from all the typing lol.

[cctinsleybaxter]

if you want negative songs about flying just google songs about plane crashes

First result was a tim minchin song that's one of the worst things i've ever heard

[the-meme-monarch]

ok sorry i didn’t go insane over emesis blue like i thought I would but it is making me scared irl now. i can’t turn over in bed bc what if there’s a severed head positioned like it’s peaking around the doorframe. what if i look over and The Butcher is there

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[mcrtalstrike]

We could have learned more about Vol'jin in the heritage questline. Like the entire part about the rush'kah mask.

You know, like one Vol'jin wears thats on the banner and tabard to represent the Darkspear. Maybe Rokhan reminiscing when Vol'jin made his own to emphasize the meaning behind them.

[munch-mumbles]

ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on

[billygoat26]

Just waiting to see if my mom breaks another promise :D

[advancedscurvy]

i hate when you know youre being unreasonable to be so upset and nobody meant anything by a remark from a complete stranger but it has snowballed into an afternoon-long downturn of mood completely and you want to cry

[pinkfey]

messed up at work again bc no one left me instructions. feel like ending it all 😩

[binnie]

i!!! hate!!!!!!! being borderline!!!!!!!!!!