#and even though we share a room i feel the same loneliness i have always felt

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

Connection is the cure to loneliness probably but its a two way street. It's not enough to feel 100% safe with somebody and to be able to speak truthfully to them, they have to reciprocate. They have to match your trust and openness with their own.

[thesirencult]

Channeled Letter From Your FS

reading by @thesirencult

Pile 1

I'm not your regular cup of tea. I'm strong, forceful and focused on going after what I want and what I want right now is you. From the first moment I will lay my eyes on you it's game on. I will approach you boldly, you will be taken aback but then you will love the thrill of the chase. My, oh, my! You will be a hard catch, but I don't care, I will pursue you in a way no one else ever has. I'm not pursuing you tirelessly or trying to win you because of ego issues, but because even if I'm not sure about myself, I'm sure about you.

You are so amazing and so worthy of love that I will get over my fears and anxieties just to be with you. Love takes courage and risk and I have nothing but that! I hope that is enough for you, in the long run.

I'm not an "one hit wonder" though! I have stamina and will never let you down my love. I know that at first you will not feel the same about me, but I will win you over once you realize I'm not the tyoe of person to hit and dismiss, pardon me!

In time, I will come to know that you were scared to let me in because no one ever showed you unconditional love and gave you without expecting anything in return. "You are the breath that I breath, you are my one lucky star..."

I'm the one who does what needs to be done. I'm a go-getter who goes after their goals. An endless flame burns within me prompting me to do my best and to take risks. I charge full steam ahead and I'm very passionate. You have not met me yet cause I'm doing "side quests" to grow and mature, so I will be ready for you.

Take care princess!

Pile 2

I'm not the best at expressing my feelings through words, although in our relationship, I will do my best to show you have precious you are to me, words will never feel enough to convey the feelings.

I'll start with this one though: You were my last hope. Your love broke all my defenses and woke me up from my slumber. How could I ever live my life thinking that I was okay being by myself, all alone in the cold embrace of the shadows while you were right there, so close to me, warmth radiating off your skin and warming up my heart. "One last time..." I thought. "I'm willing to risk it all again for her. It will either be my biggest heartbreak or the love of a million lifetimes."

You found me while I was trying to rebuild myself and mend my wounds. In reality, I healed more by your side than I coukd have ever healed on my own. You cultivated a safe space for me to open up and share my inner world with you. You made me the man I'm now.

I trusted my intuition and went after you. I never doubted our connection, just the nature of it. Were we better off as friends? But look at us, we are best friends, lovers, family and soulmates! I risked losing you to gain more of you, although, more is never enough. You consume my thoughts each and every day. I smile on my own at work and forget what I was doing while I think about you and your smile and your voice and your sweet words and kisses. This has been going on for a while, I must admit... It has been happening since our first interactions. I wanted more and more of you, begging the Universe to let us live out our fairytale. The moment I surrendered to your whims and love was the moment I freed myself from the prison of loneliness.

"You did your best!" you always tell me with a smile and I agree because you make it sound like it's not that big of a deal. That's what you said when I told you I couldn't help but fall in love with you and indeed, I did my best, the best I could have done. You outsmarted your opponent with your sweetness and I came bare to a battle I should have come prepared. I don't care though. I love the way you think and how smart you are. I love how you never let anyone or anything get between us and how your smile lights up a room. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you are thinking of something naughty or when you are trying to seduce me and influence my thoughts. I always let you win, cause I got the best prize once and I don't need any more victories.

My prize is sitting on the couch right now, wrapped up in a blanket, pregnant and with a dog lazily sleeping by her feet. Our friends just left from the dinner we held in the house that we built. A house that will host many more oarties and celebrations, but also many more quiet nights that we will be slow dancing in the kitchen to oldies playing in the background. I wish everyone got to experience that type of love just for a moment, they would never doubt this magical force exists and I'm lucky, because my wife is full of it.

Thank you for everything my love. I'll do my best!

Yours forever and always and for each lifetime, x.

[hoe4hotchner]

Used to it | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Christmas, loneliness, angst

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

The soft scent of pine needles filled the living room, mingling with the faint warmth of cinnamon from the candle you had lit hours earlier. Strings of lights twinkled, twisted around the branches of the tree. The snow outside had slowed to a gentle fall, blanketing the streets. It would’ve been the perfect Christmas Eve, the perfect white Christmas — if Aaron were here.

Instead, you stood in the kitchen, mechanically stirring the batter for cookies you weren’t sure you’d even bake. The sound of a suitcase zipping shut echoed from the bedroom, each metallic rasp twisting the knife lodged in your chest. You told yourself it didn’t hurt, not anymore.

Not after so many other nights just like this one.

Aaron appeared in the doorway, dressed in his usual dark suit and button-down, his go-bag slung over one shoulder. His tie hung loose around his neck, as though he’d tried to soften the departure. He looked at you with that familiar sense of guilt, the same look he always gave when the job called him away.

“I’ll call as soon as we land,” he said, his voice quiet, careful, like he was trying not to disturb the fragile peace you’d crafted for yourself in his absence.

You didn’t look up from the bowl in your hands, keeping your focus on the rhythmic motion of the whisk. “Sure. No rush,” you replied, the words sharp even as you tried to keep your tone flat.

He hesitated, the silence stretching between you. “You know I wouldn’t go if it weren’t important.”

“I know,” you said quickly, too quickly, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m used to it.”

The words hung heavy in the air, their weight unmistakable. Aaron stepped closer, his shoes soft against the hardwood floor. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” he said gently.

You set the whisk down with more force than necessary, gripping the edge of the counter as you finally looked at him. His face was tired, lined with stress and sleepless nights, but there was something else there too— something raw — he didn't want to leave.

“It’s Christmas, Aaron,” you said, your voice breaking despite your best efforts. “Do you know how many years I’ve spent pretending it doesn’t matter? How many times I’ve told myself I’m okay with you leaving because I know the job is important? But tonight, it just… it feels harder.”

He sighed, dropping his bag by the door. “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer. His hand brushed over yours. “I don’t want to leave you, especially not tonight.”

“But you are,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “And I’ll tell myself I’m fine, that I’m used to it, but I’m not. Not really.”

His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped free. “You don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t easy, and I hate that I’m the reason you feel this way.”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as the weight of the moment pressed down on you. “I just miss you,” you admitted.

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “Every time I walk out that door, I’m counting the minutes until I can come back to you.”

The sound of his phone vibrating broke the moment, and he pulled away reluctantly. “That’s my ride,” he said, his voice heavy.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stepped back. “Go save the world,” you said, forcing a smile you didn’t feel.

Aaron hesitated again, then pulled you into a tight hug, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he promised.

And just like that, he was gone. The sound of the door closing echoed through the house, leaving you alone with the twinkling lights and the quiet hum of the heater.

You walked to the couch, curling up beneath the blanket you’d meant to share with him. The cookie batter sat forgotten on the counter, and the snow continued to fall outside. You stared at the tree, trying to find comfort in its soft glow, but all you could feel was the ache of his absence.

You told yourself you were used to it.

But the truth was, you never would be.

[battymommastuff]

Tw: you don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable but could you do the bat boys with a reader with sh scars maybe on their thighs. You really don’t have to though! Also I love your writing!! Have a good day/night!

Perfect Imperfections

Batmom x Batfamily

TW: Mentions of miscarraige, self harm, and depression!!

Masterlist

Why was she so patient? Why was she so insistent? These questions kept replaying in Damian's head as he angrily paced the empty batcave. He'd been living at Wayne manor for nearly a year now, and he wasn't having the best time adjusting. His new home life was a struggle. He wouldn't admit it, but he hated having to share his father with his step mother. He also hated how kind you were to him. Talia never treated him with such kindness, so why are you doing the same? Being the mother figure in the house, you should be strict...and harsh with him. 

Instead you were the opposite, and it made him so angry. The second thing he was struggling to adjust to was his school. He was heavily encouraged by his "siblings" to make friends, but no one seemed to want to be friends with him. Instead he was met with judgemental looks, and hushed whispers. Damian hated his new life, and he wanted to go back to his old one. At least he had some respect there. 

All of this led to today's event. You were walking through the manor in search of Damian. Bonding with him had been more of a struggle than any of your other children. You wanted to get to know him and find some connection between then two of you. You found him sitting on his bed crying softly, "Damian?" You called out, startling the boy. He turned towards you with puffy eyes, and a runny nose, "What's wrong?" You asked and reached out to hug him. 

Damian jumped up and put as much distance between the two of you as he could in his room, "It's nothing! Just leave me alone!" He snapped before running from the room. Now he was angrily pacing the Batcave. This sadness and loneliness that he felt made him want to vomit. He constantly felt like a weight was on his chest, and he couldn't get it to go away. Damian wanted to scream...cry...destroy things. He didn't understand what was wrong with him. 

What he didn't know was that you related to him in that way. He didn't figure it out until a week later. It was movie night at the Wayne Manor. Instead of being on patrol, everyone crammed into the living room with their popcorn and drinks. You were the last one to arrive, and you were wearing pajama shorts with a Superman nightshirt on. That causes your husband to pout for a while. Damian noticed several scars on your thighs. They went from the top of your knee and disappeared under your shorts. He could tell that they weren't from battle. No one else seemed to notice or question them. 

All throughout the movie, Damian's focus was on your scars. What did that to you? Was it self-inflicted? Impossible! You always seemed so happy to do something like that to yourself. He then looked back at your face. Did you feel the same things that he felt? 

><><><><><><><><><><

"Y/n?" You looked up from your book to see Damian standing in front of you, "The other night...when we were watching the movie. I noticed the scars on your legs." You looked down to your legs which were covered by your pants. You'd completely forgotten that Damian hadn't ever seen them before, "How did you get them? Was it from a fight?" He asked nervously, and felt guilty for even asking in the first place. 

You let out a shaky breath as you set your book down, "I gave them to myself. It was several years ago..." You felt sick to your stomach as you remembered that time. The mental hell you had been in, and was still fighting to this day, "Your father, and I had found out that I was pregnant. I was two months in when I lost it." A tear slipped from your eye as you remembered the pain you felt that night, "After that night, I couldn't eat...I couldn't sleep. All I could do was cry and cry until I felt numb..." Damian moved closer to you, and sat down on the couch with you, "So numb that I wanted to feel something, some feeling that made me feel alive. So I cut myself...over and over." You wiped another tear from your face and sniffled. 

"What made you stop?" 

"It was about a year after adopting Dick. He was such a happy little boy, and he wanted to show me his report card. He didn't know it was the anniversary of us losing the baby, and I didn't know that he was coming home early. He walked in on me cutting my thighs." Damian felt his eyes start to water. He didn't know what came over him, but he launched himself onto you. A hug so tight, it might be choking you. You hugged him back and couldn't help but cry with him once you felt his tears soak into your shirt. You finished telling him the story. About how you started seeing a therapist, and taking medicine to help. Also about how you started getting better despite the several setbacks you had along the way. 

He then opened up to you about how he felt, and you along with the rest of his family helped him get better as they did for you. Four years later, he was walking towards the back of the manor with a bouquet of flowers in his arm. He stopped at a small headstone with other flowers surrounding it. The headstone for the unborn Wayne child. His potential older sibling. Damian set the flowers down before he crouched down in front of the stone, "I learned that there are an infinite number of universes out there, and I know there's one where we got to meet you. This universe never got the chance to, but Ummi told me that you sent us all to her. If that's true, then thank you. For giving me the best mother, and supporter I could ever want."

[cherimoyatea]

𝑪𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖… – A sequel to Tipsy

Pairing: Rafayel x You Synopsis: Sequel to Rafayel's Tender Moments, Tipsy. You miss him like crazy and send him a song that reminds you of him while being away for two months. Tags: Fluff, Romance, Long-Distance Relationship, Music related theme, Confessing. A little teasing from Rafayel’s end (no smut or anything). Oh, and I made a little reference to his 5 Stars Card Floral Promise if you notice. Word Count: 2677K Side Notes: So, I had this little fic in my head after listening to Can't Stop Loving You by Artemas shortly after Tipsy was released, and decided to write it down eventually. I recommend listening to the song to enhance the experience, but it's okay if you don't. Or maybe you enjoy the song and don’t like the story; that’s also fine. 🩷 Also: While I’m not new to writing, I don’t consider myself as professional as other writers. I appreciate constructive criticism as much as kind words, if you have any! �� Okay, here we go~

It's been six weeks since Rafayel saw you off at the airport and you boarded the plane that took you away from him. Six weeks since you saw his cheeky grin or his endearing pout in person. Six weeks since you sank into his arms or breathed in his familiar scent. And only two weeks left until your time at the training camp is finally over.

Yes, you were allowed to use your phone on weekends, and you counted down the days until Friday would finally turn into Saturday again so you could spend hours talking to him. But it wasn't the same, was it? It only made you miss him more...

You sigh deeply as you lie in the bed of your shared room. It's late, past midnight and it started raining a couple of hours ago. Your roommate, another Hunter, is fast asleep while you toss and turn in your sheets, unable to find sleep. Though you were used to being apart sometimes due to your irregular missions and Rafayel's busy schedule, this was the first time you hadn't seen each other for almost two months. It was harder than you had expected, and you only survived the intense training and nerve-wracking tasks during the week because you knew you'd be able to communicate with him soon. Lost in thought, you subconsciously grip the necklace around your neck, feeling the weight of the locket he gifted you on your last evening before your trip. Recalling how sad and lonely he looked, almost pleading for you not to forget him, makes your heart ache even more.

Rafayel did his best to support you from afar, by holding back his desire for you to return to him and showering you with encouraging words instead. His lingering gaze would always betray him whenever he looked at you through the phone, playfully responding in his usual cheeky way as you talked about the tough training, strict rules, and how sore your body felt. He looked at you with a sense of loneliness that tore at your heart in ways you never thought was possible. While his lips curled into a bright smile, pretending he was busy with his artwork, he was probably running a countdown on his phone, counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until you were back.

Only the constant ticking of the clock on your wall reminds you of how much time has passed since you lay down and started listening to the faint droplets tapping on your windows. You still have a few hours left until Monday morning, so you grab your wireless headphones from the nightstand and connect them to your phone. Opening the music app, you hope it will help distract you from your aching...

🎶 And the sirens sang out the sweetest lullaby It's the best I've slept in a hundred thousand nights I couldn't help myself I was hoping you would love me one more time... 🎶

...but as the soft strokes of the piano resound in your ears, you feel your heart sink further, unable to stop your thoughts from drifting to the purple-haired man you love. Every line of the song you're hearing reminds you of him and how much you long for him. Was he still awake? Maybe you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep. Without a second thought, you tap the share button on your screen and send the song to your beloved.

🎶 I'm perfectly sane, I'm fine Do you think I've lost my mind? You shouldn't be surprised Swear that I just really miss you I'd go to hell just to kiss you And I've got a couple of issues... 🎶

Your eyes grow heavier as you look at the picture of Rafayel on your nightstand, with your phone being the only source of light in your otherwise pitch-black room. It's one of the pictures you brought with you–the ones that Rafayel accidentally found and teased you about the day before you left for the training camp. You would usually hide them inside the drawer of your nightstand after your roommate caught a glimpse and almost spat out her tongue in surprise. But tonight, you decided to leave his framed picture out to find little comfort in those sunset eyes.

"Wait! Your boyfriend is Rafayel?! The renowned artist, Rafayel?? No way!!"

You chuckle quietly as you remember your roommate's wide eyes and open mouth when you asked her to keep it confidential, nodding at you excitedly. While you feel proud to be his girlfriend, causing a fuss at your training camp is the last thing you want.

''...only two weeks left... hold on, MC.''

Another sigh escapes your lips in an attempt to embolden yourself. You grab Rafayel's photo from your nightstand and give the framed version of your beloved a gentle kiss before pressing it against your chest, feeling your heart flutter at the mere thought of reuniting with him in just a few weeks. Soon, your heavy eyelids eventually close, and you drift off with the frame pressed against you, succumbing to a short, yet deep sleep.

Another week passes while your daily routine in the camp is dominated by lectures, training sessions, and intensive sports units. Like every Monday morning, you and the other hunters have to hand over your phones to your supervisors to avoid distractions and stay focused on the tasks ahead. So when you finally get your phone back on this Saturday noon, you can't wait to talk to your beloved and see his beautiful smile again.

After taking a shower, you are dressed neat as a pin, prepared for a long video chat as you tap on his name in your contact list, your heart beating in anticipation.

No answer.

''Huh?'' You frown and take a quick look at your watch. It's exactly 2 p.m., the time you both agreed on for your chatting dates. He usually picks up after the first ring and greets you with his cheerful smile, but this time is different.

You try again, but the line seems busy, and after a while, your call goes directly to his Voicemail, only adding to your confusion. The rest of the day is clouded with restless thoughts while you try to call him over and over. Your mood switches from worry to frustration, then back to sadness and irritation as you consider all the possible reasons why he stood you up.

The other hunters left hours ago to spend their free day in the town center while you declined the offer to join them and stayed back to talk to your boyfriend. But now, you bury your sulking face in your pillow and feel like crying as your phone remains silent. His phone was dead–no messages, no emails, nothing.

Hours have passed, and you're still lying on your stomach with your phone next to your pillow. As you hear your roommate enter the room after her trip to the city center, you reluctantly turn onto your back, forcing a smile to hide the disappointment you feel.

''You missed something! There was a little fair today with all kinds of snacks and street food!''

You listen patiently as your roommate excitedly describes the food stalls she and the other hunters visited, but in reality, you just want to sulk in peace.

''Oh! You wouldn't believe it! I saw someone today who resembled your boyfriend!''

You perk up your ears and look at your roommate with a surprised expression, lifting your upper body onto your elbows slightly. Rafayel? She must be mistaken.

''You're seeing ghosts; there's no way he could be here.'' You say, shaking your head with a slightly irritated smile as you shift your gaze back to the ceiling with a deep sigh. He probably just fell asleep after pulling another all-nighter and forgot to charge his phone.

''Yeah, I guess so. Because when I approached him and asked for an autograph, he drew an ugly pot on the back of my hand instead!'' Your roommate pouts as she lifts her hand, showing you the drawing. ''I mean, if he really were your artist boyfriend, he could've done better than a hideous doodle, right?''

''A pot?'' Your eyes widen as you recognize the drawing on your roommate’s hand. You jump up from your bed and grab her wrist, taking in the fine strokes you know so well. The resemblance is uncanny…

''This… this is not a pot! It's a fish head!''

You grab her shoulders, shaking your roommate desperately as your cheeks flush. Could it be? Was he really here? ''Where did you meet him? Around what time? Please, I need to know!''

After a brief description from your puzzled roommate, you storm out, rushing through the hallway of the dorm. Your heart races as you leave the camp, desperately trying to find your beloved. It's already getting dark outside and you wrap your long cardigan tighter around your body. Although the days are summery and warm, the evening chill sets in, signaling the change of the seasons. You just pass through the huge gates of the camp when you suddenly feel someone grab your shoulder from behind. You flinch at the unexpected approach and turn around to stare into a pair of familiar pink-blue eyes–the ones you've been longing to see.

''Gotcha!'' Rafayel grins at you, his bright smile wide as he takes in your surprised expression. He is holding a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers with the wrapping paper slightly crinkled.

''Rafayel!? It’s you! It’s really you!'' Your heart skips a beat as you look at him, your eyes wide, hoping they aren't just playing tricks on you. After all the yearning, he's really standing in front of you, his lilac bangs swaying gently in the evening breeze as the last rays of light quietly disappear behind the horizon. ''What… what are you doing here? Why are you here?''

''Why am I here? For you, dummy!'' He pokes your cheek, still amused by your baffled expression, trying to play it cool while his own heart bursts with joy at seeing you again. He hands you the bouquet with an apologetic smile as he notices the crinkled wrapping paper. You feel his sweaty palms brush against yours and can't help but wonder if he's a bit nervous. As if reading your thoughts, he clears his throat and quickly pulls his hands away.

''I heard the song you texted me last Sunday, and while I couldn’t ask you directly, I spent the whole week analyzing the lyrics.... and then eventually came here to ask you personally.''

You feel flustered as you recall sending him the song, not expecting it would lead to such a big gesture. Quickly, you change the subject. ''What about the fish head you drew on my colleague's hand? What was that for? You stood me up on our date earlier, and your phone was off! You could have at least texted me!''

Rafayel's bright smile fades into a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, lowering his head slightly. ''Yeah, my bad. I was thinking about a surprise visit, but everything went wrong. I spent the whole day arguing with your authorities and making calls, but they're super strict and don't allow anyone inside their camp. So, I had to find a way to make you come to me instead... without ruining the surprise, you know?''

He rubs his chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the side as he recalls the day's events. ''Then my phone died, and I overheard a group talking about the tough training while I was in town, buying a power bank. I was about to approach them when a girl tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was your boyfriend. That's when I knew she must be the roommate you mentioned. But I didn't want to draw attention, so I doodled the same pot ehm-I mean fish head that you once drew on my hand. I knew you'd recognize it and come out to look for me!''

As you listen to him, your eyes widen in disbelief. All this trouble–just because of a song you sent in a moment of emotion?

''Okay, but Raf... you could have simply asked me on the phone why I sent you the song. It's actually pretty straightforward. The lyrics are about missing someone, and...''

Your words get caught in your throat, heat rising in your cheeks. Shifting your gaze away, you nervously fiddle with your sleeve, trying to come up with something that would feel less embarrassing to confess.

''…and? And what, cutie?'' Rafayel raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes, his smile softening. It's clear you're struggling to finish your sentence with your cheeks turning pink as you avoid his gaze.

''Let me help you. After analysing the lyrics and playing the song on a loop for hours, I concluded that someone must be madly in love to send a song like this during the early morning hours. After all, that’s what the title says… 'Can't Stop Loving You', isn't it?''

He leans in and gives you a soft peck on your warm cheek, catching you completely off guard. ''Now that we've solved this mystery, there’s something else I need to know…''

Your heart nearly skips a beat as you look up at him, still flustered, lips slightly parted. He's so close, that you can feel his breath on your flushed face, stirring something deep inside you. You gulp and nod, waiting patiently for the words to form on his pretty lips.

Rafayel's lips are inches away from yours, and his beautiful eyes darken as he whispers, making your knees go weak. ''Tell me… do you really memorise every freckle on my back?''

Another lyric reference. Great.

With an amused chuckle, he suddenly pulls away and winks at you, a smug grin on his face. You groan and roll your eyes, trying to hit his chest playfully, only for him to catch your wrist midair.

''You! Stop teasing me!!'' You pout, feeling a little disappointed that he fooled you and ruined the romantic atmosphere. But you can't help but chuckle along with him. He always knew how to brighten your mood and keep you on your toes, and you adore that carefree side of him. But as the hand holding your wrist loosens it's grip, your smile falters when you notice the watch on your wrist–it's almost 9 p.m. You need to be back before 10 p.m. to avoid getting into trouble for breaking camp rules.

''You didn't need to fly all the way to me, Rafayel... I'm so happy to see you, but… I need to go back in a while. You troubled yourself for nothing…'' You lower your gaze, a sad smile on your lips as you feel his slender fingers grip your chin, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.

''What else am I supposed to do when I want to see you? It's not like I can cast your name like a spell and have you magically appear before me, huh?'' he says, as his expression softens. Rafayel locks eyes with you, cupping your cheeks in his freezing hands. While you can feel his thumbs caressing your skin, you almost tear up from the rush of love swelling in your heart as you realise how long he must have been waiting for you outside for his hands to be this cold.

He leans in, resting his forehead gently against yours, whispering softly as his hands find yours, holding them firmly. ''I heard you calling out for me and I followed... simple as that. And I would do it again, even if it means seeing you for only a moment…''

Your grip on the bouquet tightens as you look up at him, emotions flooding over you. A warm smile spreads across your lips as you finally find your voice again, your words faintly whispered.

''We still have one hour left... let's go somewhere warm, shall we?''

Thank you for reading!

Cheri 🍒

[ford-pines-lover]

Delicate

Isn't it... Delicate?

Wild that we completed at the same time! Here's Delicate @chillinglyadventurous! This one is so fun :)

Tags: SFW, drinking

Stanford Pines x Reader

This ain't for the best; my reputation’s never been worse so…

“Come on, Poindexter! This is your chance to meet the ladies!”

“Stanley, no, there’s no need for me to go find a ‘lady’ when I have everything I need right here.” Which wasn’t particularly true. Ford would have rather to have someone to share moments with. Either of the platonic or intimate kind. He had always had a sense of loneliness that had set in after coming back from the portal. Ford felt like he wasn’t needed for some big expedition anymore, so what was left? There was no ‘finding the secrets of Gravity Falls;’ there was no ‘end of the world’ anymore that needed saving. Was it time to slow down? No, of course not. He still reveled in his work, his research. But sharing it with someone could be something worthwhile. 

“I know you won’t go out by yourself, and locking yourself in the basement is sad. You don’t even have to meet a lady; you could just sit with me and drink.” Stan gives Ford a defeated look. He hadn’t had his brother in upwards of 40 years (if we don't really count the 30 minutes before the portal incident), and finally he has his chance of being Ford’s wingman. Stan leans against the doorway to Ford’s lab, where there are papers scattered about. 

Ford sighs and gets up from his desk. He doesn’t make any effort to clean up his space. Probably betting on the fact that he will be back sooner rather than later. “Fine, I’ll go with you. No promises though." Secretly, he was hoping to find someone to talk to. Hoping is the key word. 

Stan smiles and walks back up the stairs, getting ready to go out. He was planning to go to a bar, or if they were feeling ballsy, maybe a club? Doubt Ford would be up to that, though. A club is full of lights, people, and loud music. The opposite of the brother he had very narrowly convinced to come with him on this adventure. Although surprising, Stan was optimistic that Ford had agreed. 

A few minutes later, Ford emerges from the basement wearing an outfit similar to what he used to wear in college. Now, since he is 40 years older than college age, he was filling out the clothes quite nicely. It was a pair of khakis, a grey button-up, and a nice sweater vest. It made him look dapper. There was a certain confident glow to the man that is rarely ever seen. 

“Heh, you really clean up nice, don’t ya, Sixer? Tryna impress some ladies?”

“Stop it, Stanley, before I take back my agreeance.” 

Moments later, Stan drives them to the nearest bar. Nothing fancy, but it was a Friday night. There was bound to be many people there. Hopefully someone for Ford to talk to. Ramble about his life that he had lost, or perhaps learn what this new person was like. The idea of human interaction was daunting but exciting. 

They both sat down at the bar, and Stan ordered them both a rum and coke. Just something to start off the evening. It was bustling with people like Ford had imagined. There were groups of people sitting and talking, and there were people that were relatively alone as well. Stan was scanning the room for people to push Ford into talking to. 

“There!” Stan pointed at a lady that had some sort of what seemed to be a fruity drink in her hand. She looked bored, sitting on her phone. 

“Stanley, I can’t just go talk to her,” Ford side-eyed Stan with a hint of embarrassment. 

"Sure, ya can! Just a few more drinks and you’re all set!”

“I—no, I don’t need any more alcohol in my system.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Ford sighed and looked over. “I guess nothing." He got up and walked in your general direction.

“Don’t forget your wallet, Poindexter!” Stan shouted over the music and the chatter of the bar. 

You must like me for me.

Ford sits down across from you. He nervously smiles. “Hi, um, can I sit here with you?”

You give him a confused look, not sure what this older man, silver fox for the matter, would want sitting next to you. He seemed visibly nervous, too.“Um, yeah, sure! Of course!” You fidget with the straw of your drink as he sits down. You were curious about the man sitting by you. This was odd; not usually people decide to talk to you, let alone sit by you, especially at a bar. “I am Y/N” You reach out to shake his hand. He hesitantly took it. You noticed something odd about his hand. You decide not to say anything.

“I am Stanford Pines, but please call me Ford.” He smiles sheepishly. There was something enticing about the man in front of you. It almost seemed like he was full of stories, full of a lifetime, yet he also looked like a brand new man.

“So,” you gave him a curious look, “what’s your deal?” You knew there was something that he was hiding. Men never just come up and talk to you. Unless they want something from you.

Ford looked taken aback by the question. He was for sure not expecting that question. “Excuse me?” 

“Well, I go to this bar often, and no one ever sits by me.” You giggle. “I’ve never seen you here before, so again, what's your deal?” You lean over the table, hands clasped together, under your chin. You smirk at him. Okay, so he doesn’t seem like a creep. Probably isn’t, but you can’t be too careful.

“Well, I am just looking for…” He pauses and thinks about the answer. “Someone to talk to? Human connection perhaps?” 

You give an amused huff at his answer. “Well, I think, Mr. Stanford Pines, that I can give that to you.”

We can’t make any promises; now can we, babe? 

“Actually, it’s Doctor Stanford Pines.” He smiles proudly. There was something in his smile that was faltering, though. His confidence wasn’t sharp.

“Oh ho ho! Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines, eh? Well, for your knowledge, I am also a doctor.” You smirk at him and raise your eyebrow. He laughs and smiles.

“Yes!” He sips his drink, realizing it’s running low. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“The medical kind”

“Yeah? What field exactly?” He studies you as you look off to the side.

“I study gynecology and obstetrics.”

“That’s awesome! I personally study the anomalous beings here in Gravity Falls." He wiggles his fingers to have a “spooky” effect.

“That’s pretty cool, Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines." You give him an honest smile as you notice his now empty drink. 

But you can make me a drink.

You grab his glass and go up to the bar, asking for another drink. You assume he would want a whisky old-fashioned, so you buy him that. You buy yourself another dirty shirley. You return back to the table and hand him his drink.

“Here, I realized your drink was running low, so I bought you a new one.” 

“I—no, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, of course I didn't have to. I wanted to. Big difference, smart guy.”

He laughed and sipped on his new drink. “What is this?”

“A whisky old-fashioned.” 

“It’s pretty good.”

“So, what kind of anomalous things are here in this small town?” You asked sincerely. You had lived there for 6 months and hadn’t noticed any “anamolous” beings in this town. You honestly just lived here for the work. Gravity Falls hospital was hiring; it was a small town, and it was in a state with no sales tax. So hell yeah. 

His face lights up when you ask this question. He pulls out a maroon notebook (journal?) that has gold embossed into it. It looked pretty professional, yet also worn out. “You’re lucky I brought one of my old journals.” He looked to the side, almost embarrassed. “I was really hoping someone would ask about my studies.”

“Well, that’s great!” You prop your elbows back on the table to lean over to him. “I would be more than happy to listen to your tales and adventures.”

Another half an hour goes by with you two chattering away. Ford was explaining how there are things that live deep in the woods that are extraordinary, while some things can be seen while taking a walk around town. You honestly had a new curiosity for this town. This town may have been a place of convenience for a job, but now you have made a new friend. 

“Would you ever like to come mystery hunting with me sometime?” Ford asked.

“I would love to!” You beamed, excited that this guy you had just met an hour ago was already wanting to see you again. 

“Hey, Sixer, it seems you’ve hit it off with a lady." Another older man was standing at the edge of the table, giving you a smirk. “Well, it’s time to go; it’s my bedtime.”

Ford looks over to you and sighs. He scribbles on a piece of his journal, rips it out, and hands it to you. “Here’s my number in case you ever do want to come with me on an adventure.” He winks at you and leaves.

Well. You’re never going to forget about him.

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Why I think Sparkle is a maladaptive daydreamer coded character and who it plays part into her character as a whole: from a maladaptive daydreamer (and a character analysis)

(Ok folks, this turned out rather long so get your popcorn and water at hands reach!.....trust me.)

Hi!!!! :,D This is my second post here and it feels like it's been a decade but here I am again haha...

This time I'm here with something I'm more confident in exploring as, I myself, am a maladaptive daydreamer! :,)

And because of that Sparkle hit me like a TRUCK and her MADD (mal. daydreamer for short) coding makes me love her and go insane about it at the same time.(it means a lot to me ok?😭)

Sooo I'm here today to expand and shine light on it to the rest of the masses as there isn't much appreciation for Sparkle (which is understandable cause she is a character not everyone can savor) and I feel like her maladaptive daydreaming can help understand her way of thinking.

comments, reblogs and likes are VERY much appreciated if you would like to see more of my billion cents and share with others to further show me support :,)

if you have any disagreements, corrections, different opinions or such that you would like to discuss I'm always open to further discussions as I would love to receive back engagement with these posts (as long as it is in good manners)

Enough talk from me though, let's get into it already:

What is maladaptive daydreaming?

Throw the google definitions out the window, let me give you a gist of it from someone who has it:

it's a coping mechanism turned addiction that can develop from loneliness or trauma (it is also common in people with ADHD). It helps you deal with the current reality you are in by offering escapism but it differs from normal daydreaming because it becomes maladaptive (as the name suggests).

What that looks like is being addicted to escaping reality through it by daydreaming, which can make you want to trade time forming human bonds, hanging out with friends, doing tasks you should, even taking care of yourself (etc.) with daydreaming. Most of the time you don't even need to do it but daydreaming is so much more fun and entering than ur current boring life that you keep doing it anyway. It can isolate you and make you lose touch with reality (from one degree to another depending on the individual).

But people with MADD DON'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE IN THEIR DAYDREAMS. They KNOW they aren't real. Some might willfully want to believe in them but at the end of the day they know it's all made up. If you are a MADD but get serious delusions about it you might want to check more into that cause something is overlapping.

Maladaptive daydreaming is MUCH more immersive and vivid than normal daydreams (what can I say, practice makes perfect🤭). Some MADD will stim while daydreaming in various ways that have to do with whatever they are daydreaming for enhanced immersion (some will pace around the room, some will make facial expressions, some will catch themselves talking, etc)

The daydreams each differ from individual to individual and can be classified in multiple types, some make OCs while others imagine a different version of themselves or make a character similar to certain degrees to them.

We are very much fictional-stories-makers nerds no matter to be honest

Now that we got the explanation out of the way:

Why do I think Sparkle has MADD?

🎇Proof number one: her character story IV

..... *POINTS AGGRESSIVELY* like?? COME ON!! (my "she is just like me fr!!!" moment and what made me want to make this whole post)

Ok, ok, let me try to be serious about this 😮‍💨

Analyzing this alone:

"It's truly addictive to me" maladaptive daydreaming is a behavior that is addictive to the individual (du uh)

"The more I imagine, the more I get absorbed in those characters" Getting absorbed into your daydreams (and it being addictive) is a core part of MADD and what differentiates it from normal daydreaming.

"the wonderful and tragic situations I create for them, and the emotions they experience in those circumstances..." Here, Sparkle is talking about the characters she makes and how by acting them and playing their roles and their stories, she enjoys herself and is entertained by them.

From my perspective, Sparkle is an individual who finds the emotions of others and how each reacts put in various situations, fascinating, entraining and enjoyable to witness, observe and ponder on more than an average individual.

Which I think is something all of us MADD, writers, OC makers, character analyzing enjoyers and fic writers can relate to ( "no"? ok. now tell me your OCs tragic backstory come on~ come on~ ik you have one. No? Ok then tell me through what psychological horror you want ur fav to go through~ Ik you know that you want them to get tortured by the writers at least just a tiny bit....I know what you are.)

🌸Further more quotes from her character story IV:

"Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake. I imagine various lives, seek excitement, and then recreate them as best I can, and pump the brakes on my imaginative balloon just a second before it bursts."

.... genuinely what do you want me to say honestly, that's SUCH a MADD to say, pls reread how many times it takes to get it. Everything in that is just PEAK maladaptive daydreamingness. Genuinely I don't have anything to add that won't sound like "Water is H2O and 2+2=4" 🤷

"Seriously, having a script is far from enough. First and foremost, I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists. Then, I need to imagine the other stories where the character would appear. I always need extra information to make their motivation logical and emotional."

Sparkle seems dedicated to portraying, grasping and understanding her characters by IMMERSING herself into them as much as possible. Going the EXTRA mile, such as imagining other stories they could appear in, making herself believe the character TRULY exists and informing herself about them to portray them the best.

Which, again, all writers, OC makers and fic writers who actually give more than two dice about their character can relate to as we want our characters to be most accurate and well written and for that we do all Sparkle said.

The "I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists" strikes a chord in me because it's such a ??? NON MADD ARE NOT THAT DEDICATED TO IT JSJSKSJ THAT'S SUCH A MADD MILDLY CONCERNING BUT MADD THING TO SAY SKDHSKSN IK WHAT YOU ARE!!!

OK OK.

I can hear you going "but she is an actor, it's just part of being an actor". Ok Sherlock, but Sparkle is not your average actor. Case and point:

Sparkles love for the stage of acting and how it ties into her MADD:

🎇Who is Sparkle an actor for?

Herself.

Saying "she is so matriculated and dedicated because she is an actor" is only half way true.

Sparkle's love for acting and her maladaptive daydreaming are things that can coexist at the same time. (just like being a writer and MADD for ex. (yes, some of ur fav writers could have been MADD))

Which got born from which? We don't know but both are proof of how much she loves the other.

("But you said MADD develops from trauma or loneliness" YES!! And we still have no real idea about Sparkles backstory but ik damn well a "normal" person with an average fine life doesn't end up like Sparkle.)

(Also no, her character stories 1,2,3 and be at most half trusted as she says she makes them up for each individual both in her char. story 4 and a voice line.

They could either be total nonsense or parts and truths of her past but altered/heavily exaggerated and metaphorical. Pick ur fighter tbh.

"There are a few versions that are particularly popular." "Liking and believing are two different things, but people are more likely to believe in their favorite stories." "Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake."

She is basically toying with everyone who asks including the player for her own amusement and, honestly? Iconic.)

🌸She acts for her own entertainment.

Wealth, status, power... None of this matters to Sparkle. The only thing that can lure her interest is "amusement". (from her twt intro)

Her doing all this. Immersing herself into characters so deeply. It's all for herself and her own enjoyment. Just like MADD is for us and our own enjoyment and entertainment.

Not to be the greatest actor or for others recognizing her. In her introduction on twitter, she says: "I'm not exactly a person loaded with cool skills, and dreaming big isn't really my thing." Which says enough to contradict such ideas.

Yes, some MADD might go on to become writers or actors but some don't. And those who don't could still want to improve their characters FOR THEMSELVES because that will bring them more enjoyment, because they love what they do and their characters for one reason or other and want them to shine like they see them could.

🌸Sparkles elation is acting and MADD.

Elation: great happiness and exhilaration.

What makes her feel elation? Acting. What is her heavy immersive acting that is all for herself to feel elation intertwined with? Maladaptive daydreaming ✨

(wow, shocked, ik)

Sparkles Myriad Celestial Trailer: Behind the Curtain

Next, I want to talk about both her Myriad and Character Trailer through a MADD lens, starting off with her Myriad Celestial Trailer:

What struck a chord in me with it is her "conversation" with her mask. What is her mask really representing for her? The way I see it: it's her MADD and also, Sparkle.

At first she says it keeps on smiling even when she doesn't and that she can hide under it. While in reality we might not be able to smile all the time. Escaping into our daydreams through characters who can helps. The use of a veil to describe it can also be interpreted as choosing to hide your true emotions from yourself and others through emulating a characters happy emotions and state of mind.

Second, she says the mask imitates her face, her emotions, like a mirror showing her own reflection. When writers come up with characters, some might be similar to them through a degree with or without the creator even realizing. This can happen to MADD more since we are creating characters for ourselves and its a coping mechanism so emotions seep through unless we make a character/s that we want to share with others. It's also a way you can understand and grasp yourself better. In this particular setting, I think she means how through some characters she acted as (made by others) herself and emotions shines true,like that character and her acting were a mirror.

Third, it takes a darker turn, "when I'm smiling, you're screaming. When I'm angry, you're crying. When I'm sad, you're smiling". This could be her MADD taking a tool on her.

"When I'm smiling, you're screaming" like when you are content with reality but your addiction's screaming at you to be noticed, like an icky who wants to be scratched. The urge to do it despite not needing to.

"When I'm angry, you're crying" This is her "mask" empathizing with her, weeping for her anger and understanding it like no one else could.

"When I'm sad, you're smiling" this could be the situation from the first instance, but it takes a darker turn so I think the "mask" smiles because it knows that her sadness assures its existence.

Addiction is dependent on your sadness because you do it to comfort you through that sadness. Her acting and MADD is both her addiction and her elation.

From Sparkles tone, she might even be surprised at how, despite her deep sadness, the mask can still smile.

"You're like a face, steering at me" she says at the end. It brings back in mind the imagery of a mirror/reflection. But instead of a reflection, it's a different reflection, still a reflection, but not.

It reminds of when I see characters being depicted as steering into a mirror and they are smiling but their reflection reflects how they truly feel inside (emo ik)

I think that's what it's supposed to mean. Your true self steering at you, it's uncomfortable and penetrating.

Or maybe it's a blank face being unsurprised or just lacking any emotions or maybe the face itself is empty waiting to be drawn on an expression.

It's a very vague sentence, and I don't want to pretend like I 100% understand the meaning behind it, because it can be interpreted in very different ways and only an explanation by the one who said it can give us a sure answer. Maybe it's something we can't even understand with the info we currently have on her.

Overall, she holds positive feelings about her mask but she also recognizes it's kinda fcked up but she still chooses it at the end of the day for the elation it gives ("I am elation" ok girl.)

🌸In this section, I also want to come back to her:

Oh who is she?🎶~

Actually? Good question! :D

I think it was Sampo who commented that Sparkle's name is probably made up (which du uh)

But that is fascinating as well.

We see this girl at first in her trailer looking soft and innocent, nothing like the more.... eccentric person we know today.

If you look closely, she DOESN'T have the butterfly/flower(?) symbol in her eye at the start but she DOES at the end. Which to me represents how she and Sparkle were separate at the start.

"It doesn't matter how I am off stage.

When I'm on stage, I'm just Sparkle"

With the end of this video, this whole thing might be made up go, but that would be too pointless and annoyingly stupid so I'm inclined to believe she isn't fckin with us in this one. (for the most part)

That said, it seems like the girl Sparkle was before was performing for her love of acting, her madd, and for the audience.

But as time went on, doing all of this for an audience over and over lost its meaning (and probably drove her insane a little)

"When I realized that life was just a play, I wanted to leave the stage.

Because off stage, there is a even bigger stage"

Her acting, madd and elation shapes her way of seeing life and others. Why confine yourself to a stage when you can take yourself and your characters to the big stage of life itself and have fun with it the absolute bonkers way you want?

She is very much a Shakespeare truther, as he put it:

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts."

That's how her acting made Sparkle see things (to an extreme )

🌸Another thing is this scene:

"Im.... I'm not Sparkle

No, I am Sparkle"

Both in her Myriad and Character Trailer, she is actively conflicting with herself.

In this moment. She shows opposition to "Sparkle". The physical constraint is interesting imagery as well. Maybe she feels trapped by "Sparkle"? Like "Sparkle" is against her? Why is she? Because she doesn't allow her to be Sparkle(/herself/her true self)?

She separates herself from Sparkle at the start but becomes her after and laments that she isn't her than at the end, and only then, her eyes have the same symbol this big eyes have in the back (Sparkles) eyes and she becomes Sparkle.

Which, um, IS SO INTERESTING!??!?!?!

I think at the end, she gives into her want to be Sparkle and fully embraces it. Fully embraces the path of elation.

And I don't think Sparkle isn't her. I think it's still her, just more free, unrestrained version of herself that doesn't hold back when the rest of society those.

Think like how different someone with social anxiety disorder is when they feel comfortable with summon and lets out their weirdness for example. We hold back on many actions because of societal perception but she stopped giving a fck and WILL set up a hundred "bombs" on a ship to fck with people for her own amusement.

Seeing life as a stage comes with seeing the absurdism of if all and choosing to stop giving a sht and have your own fun and entertainment. Play the roles you want to play instead of playing the part.

🌸As for my take on this part?

Yeah, maybe the whole thing wasn't her true backstory, but I think it's not 100% false either. Or maybe it is and she sees it as her playing another role. The role of her past self how is so so different it's her own character at this point, right? :))

It sure was more realistic than all the other stories going on in the background (like come on, Harry Potter, Sparkle playing Herta)

"Who is the real Sparkle"

Maybe the answer is all of the Sparkles are Sparkle.

Am I gonna elaborate? Mmm, nope. :)

--------------------------------------------------------------

*cracks knuckles* OOOOOKKK this turned out quite long Jesus (never put me to write something about a fictional character in a few paragraphs, that's physically impossible for me)

Don't worry though, I'm probably gonna make a part two soon 🙃 (analyzing her Character Trailer, her design, her in game animations, who knows what ales, etc etc~) (no we are NOT done, we. are absolutely. NOT done.)

Soooo can you tell how much I like Sparkle? She lives rent free in my mind actually.

There isn't enough talk about her more deeply despite how MUCH there is to ponder on so I have to take it upon myself to do it 😮‍💨

If you made it here..... will you marry me?🥹💍

NAH NAH NAH JUST KIDDING 🤭

But if you did then thank you for giving me the time of day and I hope this post spark(l)ed some curiosity and interest into this little hedonistic gremlin! :D

(also no, I don't ignore, justify or support her racist remarks)

I do these posts mostly for myself but someone else to respond back is really nice! :,)

Ok, I'm signing off for this one. See ya in part two 👋:)

[perfectlyoongi]

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who still insists on seeing the first snowfall with you. winter was a fascinating time of the year and it always enchanted Hoseok. maybe because of the melancholy of its rains or the loneliness of its fogs, the reality is that Hoseok lived winter like someone falling in love for the first time — no matter how much time passed, what season it was, winter would always be Hoseok’s favorite. and, with him being an avid fan of the season, when the snow fell and magic began to grace the streets, Hoseok was quick to call you — Hoseok simply wanted to share the beauty of living with the most important person in his life: you. the joy he felt was enormous, completely pure, completely enchanting and when he spoke you swore you could see his smile in his words. “where are you? you have to see this! it started to snow. and it looks like it’s here to stay. are you at home? i’ll come by quickly so we can see the snow together.”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who teaches you choreography to impress your friends. when you saw your brother dancing for the first time, you were 6 years old. as you left your room to go to the kitchen to steal a cookie, you passed the door of your brother’s room and the music playing intrigued you. you carefully opened the door and peeked inside. Hoseok was completely lost in the dance, he hadn’t even noticed you. but you didn’t need to be noticed. you needed to be as happy as he was when he danced. since then, whenever you asked, Hoseok taught you one thing or another, thinking he was teaching you so you could brag to your friends. but the reality was that you could feel the happiness of Hoseok dancing and the joy of doing it with you. “i know i’m late, sorry! the traffic was chaotic. but oh well. i’m here now. shall we begin? what song do you want to dance to?”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who always thinks of costumes for two people for halloween. iconic and memorable duos were always saved in a small folder on his phone. whenever Hoseok came across a pair of something or someone he was quick to save the idea to present to you when he was with you. and it all started when you were still little, so little that the yellow in you resembled pikachu; but you didn’t want a pokemon, you wanted to be cool! cool like your brother and cool like a sponge! like spongebob! why didn’t they immediately see who you were? why did your brother have to paint himself pink for everyone to understand your disguise? but no matter how much you fought when you were little, you were now grateful, because only from that year on did you become cool enough for Hoseok to dress up with you. “for the last time, we’re not going like shrek and donkey! i still think bert and ernie’s idea is better. although i’ve been thinking about a mustache for a while now... what do you say about mario and luigi? last idea!”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who does silly tiktok challenges with you. even though Hoseok was the embodiment of joy, he thought there was always something more he could do to give you the best life you could live. so when he felt the storm of life approaching, he was quick to act; with a collection saved under your name, you and Hoseok looked for challenges in the different videos that could brighten your day. they were brief minutes, you always gave up almost immediately, but for that time, for ten, twenty, thirty minutes nothing mattered. just you, Hoseok and a room of laughs. “i could tell by your tone that the day hadn’t gone very well for you. do you want me to come by? i can pass by the pizzeria on the way. i discovered some more challenges that you might like. what do you say? wanna forget the world for one night?”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who is always talking about you to his friends. Hoseok was the older brother, but he was the one who admired you. for a lifetime you looked to Hoseok as an inspiration, always wanting to reach the same path as him, always seeking his approval. Hoseok was someone you wanted to be. but perhaps because life is troubled and the paths are uncertain, the truth is that you were no longer trying to reach Hoseok. you decided that your path was behind him, on his back, pushing him when he got tired. and it was for you he tried so hard. it was to not disappoint you, to show you that the world is beautiful, to let you know that it is worth existing. Hoseok knew you were always after him — it was his strength. and he couldn’t hide the admiration he felt for you. so young and with worlds conquered and universes planned — you were truly a force of nature. everyone would have to know, and Hoseok didn’t mind being your messenger. “i won’t stop talking about you because you haven’t stopped living yet. don’t you understand that your existence has to be celebrated? you keep saying that i am the light in this world, but don’t you see that my shine is the reflection of your love? without you, i would be nothing.”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who has in a notebook all the jokes and promises you made. when you got chickenpox and had to spend eternities in bed without being able to play, Hoseok made a point of writing down in an old notebook everything you two were going to do as soon as you got better. 1. he would take you to the ice cream stand in the park; 2. you were going to play tag with your friends; 3. invent a new song for jumping rope; 4. … well, the list was extensive and only grew over time. there was no moment Hoseok wanted to miss, not when it was spent with you. Hoseok wanted to remember everything you guys did and everything that brought him joy. between full pages and worn lines, small photographs and receipts filled several notebooks that were kept with all the love Hoseok felt for you. “remember the christmas you turned 11? that game we make up in the snow. i was thinking about doing a choreography based on this, what do you think? it’s a good idea, i know. i’m glad i kept everything in detail.”

OLDER-BROTHER!HOSEOK who sits with you at the children’s table at family gatherings because he can’t behave around you. you brought out the best in Hoseok. his happier, more childish side only came out when he was with you. by your side, Hoseok returned to that childhood spent with you where there was nothing but smiles and laughter. you filled Hoseok’s heart with dozens of warm memories of jokes and arguments that were so pathetic it only made you laugh. pure happiness, total euphoria. you and Hoseok just wanted to relive those simpler days, where you were always together and there was nothing separating you. “next time we have to show mom that we are already grown up. so don’y you dare steal my food again. i’ll bite you for real this time!”

[kybercrystals94]

Lost and Searching

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 11 - Prompts: Convenience Store / Loneliness

Rated: G | Words: 607

The bell over the door jingles when the man in the cloak pushes inside. The shopkeep knows he’s a clone, a deserter, but one doesn’t talk about that kind of thing down here. As long as you mind your business and they mind theirs, everyone’s golden. Besides, Jae Mar is almost certain this clone is playing mercenary, if the depleting crime rates in the area are anything to go by. He hasn’t asked for anything in return for his protection, but Jae Mar gives him a good discount on goods. As a courtesy. 

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” Jae Mar calls out conversationally. 

The clone grunts dismissively, stalking down the short, narrow aisles, back and forth, like a caged animal. The store doesn’t have much by way of food, but at least it’s not expired. Jae Mar takes pride in that. As the clone makes a pass by the counter, he says, “Been busy.” 

“I got a crate of ration bars in the back. I’ll give you a good price.” 

That gets the clone’s attention. “What flavor?” he asks. 

Jae Mar shrugs. “A variety pack. A collect ‘em all sorta thing.” 

So what if Jae Mar barters for the protein bricks, saves them up, and waits for the clone to come by to give him a deal. The kid looks like he could use a break. 

The clone approaches the counter, watching with those dark, haunted eyes. Jae Mar has never done anything to spook him, but it’s like taming a feral tooka. It’s all about patience. 

“Be right back,” Jae Mar says. He goes to the back room, a thing he wouldn’t normally do without barring the front entrance; however, the kid’s up there. He’s more security than one of those expensive alarm systems Jae Mar’s been saving up for. 

He finds the crate of ration bars, then stuffs a few of the candies he knows the clone gets sometimes in the corners, where they won’t be seen right away. Doesn’t want the clone to know he might have a soft spot for him. 

“Here we are,” he says, coming back around and dropping the crate with a thud on the counter. “What do you say? Five credits?” 

The clone’s eyes narrow. “Why so cheap?”

“Because you’re doing me a favor taking them out of my storeroom. You’re the only one around here willing to eat this kark.” Jae Mar scoffs, “Kriffing no taste.” 

Jae Mar is rewarded with a smile, an actual smile. “Happy to help then,” the clone says. 

“Got enough there to share with your friends,” Jae Mar comments idly, accepting credits that are passed across the counter. 

“Yeah,” the clone says, and the smile is gone just as quickly as it appeared. 

Jae Mar overplayed his hand, he knows. But when the clone didn’t respond to the word five even though it’s literally tattooed on the side of his head, he thought he’d push a little more. 

The clone picks up the crate, tucking it under his left arm, right hand always hovering near his hip. “Thank you, sir,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. 

“Name’s Jae Mar,” the shopkeep says. 

The clone hesitates, half turned to the door. “Echoy’la,” he says. 

Jae Mar nods. “Good to be able to put a name to the face.” 

The clone huffs what might be a laugh. “Many names, same face,” he says. 

A quiet acknowledgement of unspoken truth. 

Echoy’la leaves, the door jingling behind him. 

If Jae Mar feels sorry for the kid, maybe even likes him…so what? Sue him. 

It’s good to have a friend like him down here.  

END

Note: Echoy’la (eh-CHOY-lah) is Mando’a for: searching, mourning, lost

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt

[jumpinguptothesky]

I don't know why I wanted to write this fan fiction. The fact is, I was really inspired and I'm really writing it without being able to stop. The only difficulty is translating it into English as well as possible.

Just goes to show, brain rott is real. Levihan always comes back to my mind, even when I think I've forgotten it. You can find it here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62060140/chapters/158719963

I hope you'll enjoy it!

His Scent of Tea and Cedar

Summary:

Hange Zoe is a renowned writer. Her editor suggests she write about sexual services for women, but she flatly refuses. However, when she learns that her friend-with-benefits and impresario, Zeke, is about to get married, a creeping sense of loneliness begins to settle in. Craving intimacy, she decides to give the sex therapist service her editor recommended a try. To her utter shock, the man standing at her door is none other than her young and strikingly handsome janitor: Levi.

Notes:

Inspired by Yasashii Milk by Tadaka Rose

Chapter 1: Invisible Fractures

Excerpt:

"You think I’d just let you say this to me like it’s nothing?" Hange's voice trembled with raw emotion. "You couldn't tell me earlier? You had all the time in the world... at the door, when I offered you a drink, when I invited you up. Don't you dare blame me for your cowardice! I can’t believe you’re telling me this after everything... while... while we were..."

The living room was bathed in the gentle light of the morning sun. Golden rays streamed through the vast bay window, illuminating a garden where dew glistened on the leaves like countless diamonds. These almost ethereal gleams brushed the pages of an open manuscript resting in Nanaba's hands. Her short-cropped blonde hair reflected the faint golden beams, and her piercing eyes scanned the lines with intensity. Across from her, Hange sat nervously, shifting slightly in her leather armchair.

She tried desperately to maintain composure, though the subtle expressions of her editor, who had been silently reading for some time, left her feeling unmoored. Each moment felt like an eternity, as always when sharing her work.

Hange attempted to focus on the scenery outside, her hand nervously brushing her disheveled brown hair. She resisted the urge to chew her nails or adjust the frames of her glasses.

“This is incredible, Hange, truly,” Nanaba finally declared, closing the manuscript with care. “Your style is as captivating as ever. Every sentence resonates; every description transports.”

A modest smile graced Hange’s lips. “Thank you, Nanaba. You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you.”

But then Nanaba furrowed her brow, placing the manuscript gently on the coffee table. “That said…”

Hange detected a note of apprehension in her voice. “What? What’s wrong?”

Nanaba shrugged. “You’re starting to go in circles, Hange.”

“In circles?” she repeated, crossing her arms, clearly affronted.

“Don’t misunderstand,” the editor continued, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Your last bestseller, about that group fighting for freedom against monstrous colossi, was phenomenal. But it feels like you’re clinging to the same themes. Even though each of your stories is different, your topics and perspectives always revolve around similar ideas… You need to try something new.”

Hange narrowed her eyes, skeptical. Her first saga, Wings of Freedom, had been a massive success. Since then, she had continued to write about humanity’s struggles, crafting noble, idealistic heroes. Even when she created new worlds, she returned to the fantastical, translating life’s everyday challenges, wars, and resistance movements into epic battles against oppression. She sank into the couch, rubbing her temples.

“So, what do you suggest I write? Science fiction? Mystery novels?”

Nanaba smirked playfully. “New Romance!”

A nervous laugh escaped Hange. “New… what?”

Full Chapter on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62060140/chapters/158719963

[xaeydnquartz]

Part of me kinda wants to stop DMing my first and current campaign? IDK just need to vent

So, brief expo. like many, got into CR during the pandemic (mainly due to "The Legend of Vox Machina" which lead to me actually bingeing the all 3 campaigns) During which time a friend (who was in my immediate friend group but like the rest of my friend group, i didnt really feel close to) told me that he was really into CR as well. As a fresh new critter, i was stoked. Was able to share my blossoming love of CR with someone (FINALLY!) during which we both mentioned how D&D looked so much fun and that it would be really great to be able to play and ooo what if we got our friends together and played.

After which we discussed, if we did, who would be DM? Seeing as how none of our friends really played D&D our talk lead to either my friend or me and after asking the question "Which do you think you would prefer more?" It was clear i would try my hand at DMing (i like lore in games, and i like storytelling, and im a tad bit of a control freak at times, lol)

Anyway, we eventually got in touch with our close knit of friends, and though i intended to be a standard 6 we suddenly had an 8 party party (and that was with me having to tell even less close friends there wasnt room).

Feeling it would still be manageable (as there was precedent that i could pull inspo from, CR) i began planning a rough idea of a campaign and working with my friends to create their characters and running a session 0 so we were all on the same page. You know standard stuff.

-Fast Forward to current date and time-

It has its stressful moments, but i still am able to enjoy the time with my friends for the most part (though theres a lot of times were ive never felt lonelier) Which brings me to the whole point of the post, my need to vent to the void about this loneliness. Nobody really gets in touch or interacts with me at all. Not to talk about the campaign or even collab on their characters. The most i get are occasional critiques about how i could have done something better couple sessions prior and request to add another person to the 8 person party. When we have sessions, people show up late quite often, leave early quite often, have to cancel as they have other things they are doing (even though we planned and scheduled weeks prior) and even when people are there they somtimes feel like they arent always present. i already feel extremely distant from all of them as they all live closer to each other while i live on the totally opposite side of the state and theyve known each other way longer than i have, but the minimal interactions they have with me, the DM/GM of all people, just continues to add to all of it I know we all are busy with our lives, and that compared to those things D&D is really not that big of a deal or important. And i get that, it is just a game afterall, but it still manages to hit pretty hard

I've communicated my feelings through our time of this campaign, if im being honest, maybe not this indepth. I mean, its partially because i barely see or talk to them (again life gets in the way) but also because i feel extremely guilty for putting this kind of tension to something we are all supposed to be enjoying and relaxing to. Its especially painful as most recently 2 players, who said they would get in touch with me about changes possibly being being made to their characters, never got in touch in anyway shape or form, and its been about a month now? And session is in a week...i didnt even get much as a reply back. Idk, its been almost about a year now and i felt i just needed to get this out somewhere other than debating myself.

Thanks for listening tumblr.

[bunnysnuff]

Chapter 2.

Pairing: Charlie spring x F!twin!Reader (siblings), Charlie spring x nick Nelson, nick Nelson x F!reader.

Triggers warning: future love triangle, reader and Charlie are siblings. Feelings of loneliness and confusion. Wrote in the 3rd person Point of view. Reader is Female.

Masterlist.

—

Summary: Dear Charlie, we shared the same womb; I love you. I’m sorry.

Chapter 2

The next few days passed in a blur of normalcy, yet everything felt different. As the sun began to set earlier and the air turned cooler, I found myself preoccupied with thoughts of Nick Nelson. I tried to shake the feeling, but he lingered in on mind like a song stuck on repeat. His laughter, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke—everything about him seemed to ignite a fire you didn’t know was there.

On Friday afternoon, as you wrapped up in your homework in your room, you heard your brother’s footsteps thudding down the hall. The excitement in his voice was unmistakable as he called out, “Guess who’s coming over again today!”

Your heart raced. “Nick?” You tried to sound casual, but eagerness slipped through your fingers.

“Yep! He said he wanted to hang out with us this weekend!” Charlie replied, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s going to be epic!”

You forced a smile, though the anticipation was laced with anxiety. “Sounds great. What are we doing?”

“Probably just some games again, maybe grab a pizza. You in?”

“Of course,” you replied, though your mind was already racing. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face the onslaught of feelings that Nick stirred within you. Yet, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having him around again.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm golden hues throughout the house, the reader helped your brother prepare for Nick’s arrival. You tried to distract yourself by organizing snacks and drinks in the kitchen, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Would he look at you again with that playful glint? Would he make you laugh as he had before?

When the doorbell finally rang, your stomach fluttered with nerves. Charlie was at the door before you could even take a breath, swinging it open wide with a huge grin.

“Nick! Hey!” he exclaimed, pulling Nick in for a friendly hug.

“Hey! Hope I’m not too early,” Nick replied, stepping into the warmth of their home. He wore a casual t-shirt and jeans, his easy confidence making him seem even more attractive. You felt your cheeks warm as you stepped into the living room, determined to keep her composure.

“Not at all! We’re just about to order some pizza. What do you want?” Charlie asked, leading Nick into the living room.

“Pepperoni, always,” Nick said, flashing a smile at you. You felt your heart skip a beat as you met his gaze, and you couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to take a moment to really look at you before returning his attention to Charlie.

As they settled in, the familiar rhythm of playful banter resumed. They launched into a video game tournament, the air filled with laughter and friendly jabs. Yet, beneath the surface, the reader felt a strange tension. The way Nick and Charlie played off each other felt like a well-rehearsed act, one that you were desperately trying to join.

Halfway through a particularly intense match, Nick leaned closer to you, his eyes focused on the screen. “You’re pretty good at this,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You should join the gaming club at school.”

You blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Thanks! I didn’t think it was your style, though.”

He chuckled, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending an unexpected thrill through you. “You’d be surprised. I like to try new things.”

Before you could respond, Charlie let out a whoop of victory, breaking the moment. “Yes! I’m on fire today!”

“Lucky shot!” Nick retorted, feigning annoyance. But his eyes were bright with amusement, and the moment between You and Nick faded into friendly competition once more.

As the evening wore on, You couldn’t shake the feeling that Nick was trying to include you, but every time he did, it felt like you were competing not just for his attention but also for her brother’s. Every shared joke and knowing glance between the two of them was a reminder of how easily you felt pushed aside.

Eventually, pizza arrived, and they gathered around the table, plates piled high with steaming slices. The chatter continued, laughter bubbling up like the fizz in their sodas. For a moment, everything felt perfect, like the three of them were the best of friends.

But then, while Charlie was busy cracking jokes, you caught Nick’s eye again. He smiled at you in a way that made your stomach flip, and you felt yourself leaning in, drawn by an inexplicable magnetism. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Charlie interrupted.

“Hey, what about that time we—” he started, diving into another story from their childhood, leaving no room for you to voice whatever had been on your mind.

You felt a pang of frustration. Why was it so easy for Charlie to take over the conversation? It was like he didn’t even notice you struggle to keep up. It made you want to retreat, to hide your feelings deep down where they couldn’t reach you.

As the night wore on, the laughter and lightheartedness continued, but a subtle tension hung in the air. It was a truce, uneasy yet somehow comfortable, but it was clear that something was shifting beneath the surface. You could feel it, a tension that begged to be addressed but remained unspoken, lingering in the quiet moments when Nick’s gaze would drift back to you, filled with curiosity and warmth.

Later, when Nick finally left, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. The door closed behind him, and you took a deep breath, glancing over at your twin brother, who looked ecstatic.

“Did you see that? Nick’s awesome!” Charlie exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement. “I can’t believe how much fun we had!”

“Yeah, he seems cool,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral, though you could feel your heart racing.

“I think he really likes hanging out with us,” Charlie said, oblivious to the tension that had just flickered between you and Nick. “And I can tell he’s really into you too. You two were totally vibing!”

Your stomach dropped at his words. “What do you mean?”

Charlie shrugged, grinning. “Just the way he looks at you. It’s like he’s fascinated. Maybe it’s because we’re twins?”

You bit your lip, torn between the hope that maybe Nick felt something more and the reality that her brother seemed oblivious to the growing feelings between them. As you retreated to your room that night, the weight of the evening settled heavily on your chest.

Tossing and turning, sleep eluded you. The feelings swirling inside you were a confusing mix of admiration, envy, and excitement. Tomorrow would be another day, and you would have to figure out how to navigate this new dynamic that threatened to change everything you knew. With a heavy heart, you finally closed your eyes, hoping to find clarity in the morning light.

—-

Diary entry 2.

Dear Charlie,

I don’t even know where to begin. Nick came over again today, and honestly, I’m a tangled mess of emotions. It was fun hanging out with you both, but there’s something simmering beneath the surface that I can’t quite put my finger on.

I can tell how much you enjoy spending time with Nick, and it makes me happy to see you so excited. But I’m starting to feel like a shadow, watching you two connect while I’m just… here. It’s like you both have this amazing chemistry, and I’m trying to find a way in, but it’s like there’s this invisible wall.

Nick was so engaging with both of us, but every time he looked at me, I felt this spark. And then you would jump in with some story or joke, and it was like I was pushed aside again. I know it sounds dramatic, but it really stings. I don’t want to feel jealous of your friendship with him, but I can’t help it.

When you said Nick seemed to like me too, I almost wanted to scream. Part of me hopes that’s true, but it also feels like you’re oblivious to how I feel about him. Do you see how he looks at me sometimes? It’s confusing because I know you really like him, and I don’t want to come between you. But at the same time, I can’t ignore these feelings.

I just need to figure out how to navigate this new dynamic without losing what we have. I want you to be happy, but I also want to be honest with myself about my feelings. It’s exhausting, and I feel like I’m in some weird love triangle, except I’m not sure if anyone knows it exists.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I hope we can talk about this soon. I need to know how to balance everything—my feelings, your friendship with Nick, and our relationship as siblings.

Love you,

[Your Name].

[duckies-minsung-fanclub]

"We met once...in a dream."

HyunLix fanfic

*Requested*

Fluffy (I think?). Could be added onto, but I like how this turned out enough to post it now! If ya want a part 2, just let me know!

Hyunjin woke slowly, wishing he could go back to sleep and finish his dream. He didn’t want to leave the mystery boy that had smiled at him so brightly. His eyes were surrounded by freckles that reminded him of the constellations in the night sky, and Hyunjin wanted so badly to sit for hours and count each freckle slowly just to stare at the boys’ face as long as possible. It was a shame he was just in a dream.

Rolling over and out of bed, Hyunjin shuffled to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He leaned on the sink, staring groggily into the mirror. The mystery boy smiling at him flashed swiftly in his mind before fading away just as fast. He sighed and decided in order to keep him in his memory he would do what he does best; paint him.

It would be a challenge considering it would all be from memory and from a dream at that. Regardless, he was up for the challenge just to keep a part of the gorgeous human as a memento. Knowing his luck, he wouldn’t dream of him again ever, which disappointed him. He would love nothing more than to have someone like him in his life to show off and hold close. To share sentimental moments with…

“Geez, Hyunjin,” he whispered to himself. “Loneliness doesn’t look good on you.”

After finishing up in the bathroom, he shuffled to the kitchen to make him an iced Americano from the machine a friend had gifted him for his birthday. It was extremely thoughtful, considering he was always drinking them. Having his own machine saved him money, even. He couldn’t thank his friend enough, in his opinion.

Once his coffee was finished, he padded his way into his home studio and set up a large canvas on his easel. He stared at it for a moment, remembering each detail he could as he sipped on his drink. A smile played at his lips as his dream replayed in his head of the boy walking with him in the park, looking up at him with bright eyes and smiling wide. He could almost feel their hands entwined together still. The feeling was comforting. A cold feeling filled his chest when realization hit that he would never feel it in real life.

Nodding his head and taking a deep breath he got to work prepping his canvas and painting. He painted in great detail, as much as he could remember. The way his hair fell perfectly, the way his eyes shone brightly, how each freckle had their own unique shape including the heart shaped one that sat just below one of his eyes. He painted the way his full lips pulled into a beautiful smile, the same smile that gave Hyunjin tiny butterflies in his stomach, even now as he was painting it.

Hours had went by, he knew it. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so engrossed in a painting the way he was with this one. He remembered the sun shining early in the morning and how it threw shadows across the room as it moved in the sky. However, the only light that shone in the room when he finished was the ceiling light fixture that he had recently turned on due to the room becoming dark. He had taken a few breaks to get food, but he barely remembered it. The only proof was the trash that littered the floor around his easel that wasn’t there earlier.

He took a few steps back, examining his work. A proud and satisfied smile creeped onto his face. He had finished it, and his confidence was through the roof. It looked exactly like him. Down to the exact freckle placement. He even captured how the sun highlighted his blonde hair perfectly. How he managed to do so well, he wasn’t sure. It just made the piece that much more meaningful to him, though. Now, he would never forget the mystery boy in his dream.

He stretched and looked at the time. It was well pasted midnight at this point. He decided to call it a night and let his masterpiece dry overnight before doing anything further with it. Taking one last glance, he turned and walked out of the room. His body felt tired, though his mind was hopeful the dream would surface again.

***

The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled Hyunjin’s nose, waking him from his dreamless sleep. He blinked his eyes open, sighing with disappointment. He should have expected not to dream of him again; his mystery dream boy. Still, he would have loved to see him again, to hold his hand and hear his breathy laughter, even in his dream.

Grunting softly, he sat up and swung his legs over the bed. He shuffled out of the room, skipping the bathroom. As he got closer to the kitchen, he heard shuffling and other noises in there. Sleepy confusion made him pause. Did Minho come over in the middle of the night to ransack his kitchen?

He quietly crept into the kitchen and froze. It can’t be…

He turned and rushed to his studio, opening the door and staring at the canvas that he painted on last night. The canvas he spent hours painting on was now blank. He walked up to it and touched it. It was as if he never even prepped it. But he remembers painting every single detail of…

The same boy that was in his kitchen.

He peeked out of his studio room, into the kitchen. The same boy was shuffling around, a white powder littering his gorgeous face. He was mixing something in a large bowl, his focus on the contents he was mixing. Hyunjin slowly made his way back to the kitchen, his curiosity getting the better of him. When he reached the entryway of the room, he stopped and stared.

The boy paused and glanced up, doing a double take of Hyunjin before giving him that same bright smile. His eyes turned into crescents with how wide he smiled at him.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his deep voice like velvet. “Would you like some coffee? I’m making pancakes for breakfast.”

Hyunjin couldn’t respond. He could only stare, trying to make sense of how the boy in his dreams, and in the painting, was in his kitchen. He took another step into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off of him as he walked closer. When he was within arm’s reach, he lifted his hand and touched the boys’ cheek. This caused the boy to chuckle.

“I’m real, if that’s what you are wondering.”

Hyunjin blushed and pulled his hand away. “I just…who are you?”

“Oh, that’s right. I never told you what my name was before.”

“Before?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes going wide with surprise.

The boy nodded. “I’m Felix.”

“Felix…” Hyunjin whispered.

Felix smiled. “We met before. In a dream, I believe.”

Hyunjin reached out and touched Felix again, feeling the need to double check. When his fingers touched Felix’s wrist softly, he softly ran them up his arm to his elbow. Felix watched him patiently, knowing how it felt to feel as if he was dreaming.

“How is this real?” Hyunjin asked into the air.

Felix shrugged before mimicking what Hyunjin did to him. He started at the top of his hand, slowly moving his touch up Hyunjin’s arm to his elbow. He turned his body, facing Hyunjin and stepping closer. He watched as his touch caused goosebumps to form on Hyunjin’s arm where his fingers traced.

“I’m not sure how, but I’m real.” Felix began, slowly moving closer to the taller boy. “I know in your dream we were so close. I’m not sure what we had there, but I want that with you here.”

Felix looked up at Hyunjin, his eyes shining. Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat as he remembered the dream and how close they felt. It was…romantic. He wanted that too, but how was he supposed to explain how they met?

Before he could do or say anything further, Felix wrapped an arm around Hyunjin’s waist and pulled him close. He placed his other hand on Hyunjin’s cheek softly. He stretched up slowly, their lips colliding in a soft kiss. Hyunjin was surprised at first, his body tensing for a few seconds before relaxing into the kiss.

The kiss didn’t last long enough to Hyunjin, but he had a feeling he was going to have plenty of time to experience more as time went on with Felix.

@redstayrosie (requested by)

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

So while I’m on my “You’re Losing Me” riff, another thing that really strikes me about the song is how pervasive loneliness is in it.

This isn’t inherently unique in Taylor’s music; she is after all the narrator in most of her songs. They are inherently self-centered and not in a selfish way, but in a literal way: these are songs about her and her perspective. It makes sense then that YLM is uniquely about her experience in this relationship and this breakdown.

But when I talk about the theme of loneliness, it’s how alone she as narrator is throughout the story. Even in the opening salvo, where he says, “I don’t understand,” and she says, “I know you don’t,” the conversation represents two people fundamentally pushed to their own corners.

There is a clear split between we and I throughout the story.

We thought a cure would come through, now I fear it won’t. We loved this room cause of the light, but now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time. Should I throw out everything we built?

There’s a divide between when they were on the same team, and when she’s been cast adrift. They were working on fixing their problems, but now she alone is burdened with the knowledge that they’ve passed the point of no return. They chose a home to house their future dreams together, but now she’s left all alone in the dark feeling those dreams slip away. They built a life, but now she’s the one having the make the call to take it down.

But it gets progressively darker than that. The line about being a phoenix mending all her own gashes has always jumped out at me, because it connotes her dealing with blow after blow by herself, having to put herself back together each time, the onslaught relentless even if she ultimately overcomes. Yet it’s him who tears her apart for good. The image it paints is of a person continually facing her own struggles on her own, dealing with the fallout like a lone wolf (sorry for the continued animal allusions?), but whatever it is that the subject he does breaks her worse than the thousand cuts she’s experienced before. Even here, the idea is of a person who shoulders her burdens by herself and being praised for it (something something when I used to fight you’d tell me I was brave etc. Even though I know that’s an entirely different situation but it’s also not) or at least being expected to do it, but the subject’s actions — or lack thereof— cut deeper than any of those lonesome fights. She keeps fighting for herself, trying to grow from the hurt, but his “blow” threatens to undo it all in one fell swoop.

Of course, as the song continues, the story expands and becomes one about miscommunication and apathy. I’m not one to believe that every single line in Taylor’s songs is literal; she’s a master at metaphors and scene setup, so as much as some commentary interprets the line about glaring and sending signals as literal and therefore putting the onus on her for not communicating effectively and expecting the person to be a mind reader, I feel like this is where her affinity for being flowery paints a far sadder picture.

She glared at him with storms in her eyes could mean she’s acting pissed but not saying why, but it could just as easily be a metaphor for sharing anger/upset with your partner who refuses to acknowledge its weight. (How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dyin’ when it’s right in front of you?) I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick could be seen as again not saying what’s wrong and expecting him to pick up on her behaviour, but I also feel it’s an instance where her penchant for emotive language is at play: it’s not that she expected him to read her mind, it’s that she tried every way she could and he still didn’t care. The signals could be that like a lighthouse in a storm: clear and guiding, but dangerous if ignored. She told him in all the ways she could, literal, emotional and physical, that she was wasting away, but he wouldn’t take it seriously. It once again details the experience of a person living through this tragedy completely on her own, whose pain is dismissed at every turn.

Which brings us to, “My face was gray but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick.” It could mean, she was making herself ill and he ignored the reasons why, but as I mentioned in my post earlier, death hangs over the entire song. (There’s a larger essay to be written about that theme alone.) To me, it’s not just that she’s grey because she’s ill, her face is grey because she’s (metaphorically) dead. She’s already died (or the relationship is dead) before he’s even admitted there was anything wrong to fix. She alone is sitting with this realization.

As the song continues, the loneliness with the burden of this knowledge shifts to the loneliness of everything she feels she’s done or felt that’s been ignored or dismissed.

My pain is an imposition. (On you.) I gave you all my best me’s. (And I didn’t get yours in return.) I bled and tried to be the bravest soldier only in your army frontlines. (But you didn’t fight in mine when I needed you.) I’m the best thing at this party. (But you’d never acknowledge I exist.)

By the time she gets to the end of the bridge, she’s fading fast but even as she’s losing the battle, she’s still imploring him to fight for her and them in a last-ditch effort. Show me you’re still with me. But she never gets that answer, because ultimately they’ve lost the pulse, and her heart has stopped. While the song begins with them fundamentally misunderstanding each other, it ends with her confirming her fears in the opening: there is no more we, but there is no more her either. She’s gone, all alone, without anyone there to see it.

In spite of the fact that the song is super catchy and uptempo, with a characteristic banger bridge that is fueled by anger and seeping with resentment, “You’re Losing Me,” is incredibly sad and kind of morose. It leaves such an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, which I imagine is only a fraction of the feeling of the person experiencing the story is.

[lowkeyflynn]

Across the Miles

"I miss the way you light up a room just by being there."

It’s funny how the little things can take on so much meaning when you’re miles away. Like the way the light catches your laugh lines, or the goofy grin that makes even the worst days a little brighter. All I have here is this stupid screen. And the silence between our last texts feels like an ocean I can’t swim across.

Maybe I overreacted earlier. I know things have been tough with the time difference and everything. But sometimes, the silence just screams, you know? It makes me wonder if you’re there on the other side of the world feeling the same things I am. The loneliness, the frustration, and the fear that maybe this distance is too much for us.

But then I remember our talk. The way your voice softened when I apologized, the honesty in your words when you admitted your own worries. It felt good to just be real with each other. To confess the doubts, the silly things we miss, and the dreams we share even when we’re apart.

Those dreams are what keep me going. The thought of finally being together, seeing your face light up when you see me, that first real hug that will erase all this longing. We might be miles apart, but you’re still the first person I want to talk to about everything. The good, the bad, the in-between. Because in that space, I find a piece of you right here with me.

Sure, I still miss you fiercely. Every stolen glance from a cute barista, every funny cat video, every dream about winning the lottery and finally being together—I wish I could share them with you in person. But you know what? Talking to you and being truly heard by you feels pretty darn special too.

Maybe this distance isn’t such a bad thing after all. Maybe it fans the flames of our bond and makes us appreciate each other even more. As long as we keep talking and sharing our hearts across the miles, I know we can weather any storm, babe. Because even though the rain may keep falling here, the sun is always shining somewhere. And that’s what keeps me hoping.

Hoping for the day the rain stops, and all I see is the clear blue sky with you by my side.

—Flynn Caulfield

[sinceileftyoublog]

Madi Diaz & Jack Van Cleaf Live Show Review: 3/6, Lincoln Hall, Chicago

Madi Diaz

BY JORDAN MAINZER

"I've got these purple shoes--they're very cool," Madi Diaz shared Wednesday night at Lincoln Hall as she tuned her guitar. Someone in the audience replied, "Tell us more!" Diaz didn't hear them, but the crowd member's response was apropos of Diaz's open-book nature as a songwriter and performer. Over her past two albums, 2021's History of a Feeling and last month's Weird Faith (Anti-), through her unflinching honesty, Diaz has created a solidarity of self-expression, anthems out of moments and feelings we might otherwise be ashamed of (loneliness, crying in public). She's put to song the peaks and valleys and beginnings and ends of relationships with others and herself, the non-linear nature of realizing that she loves, hates, feels a burning desire, and in turn deserves to feel it all. Turns out, a lot of other folks have had experiences similar to hers, making it easy for them to sing Diaz's words back to her and feel a palpable connection.

Diaz

Diaz walked out to Cass Elliot's "Make Your Own Kind of Music", a fitting sentiment to introduce a show in which she laid bare her vulnerability and created an atmosphere for others to do the same. Truth be told, she knows how to start a song, an album, and a set; "Same Risk" confronts a love interest about a level emotional playing field. "What the fuck do you want? Cause I'll give you all that I got," she sings on the Weird Faith and set opener, each subsequent line one-upping the prior in terms of frankness, culminating with the question, "Do you think this could ruin your life?" and the admission, "Cause I could see it ruining mine." Though the album version has the proper canyons of space to give room for Diaz's heavy confessions, the live version was comparatively stripped-down. On stage, Diaz played guitar and sang alongside multi-instrumentalist Adam Popick, who played drums and synthesizer, sometimes simultaneously. Though Diaz's lyrics are often diaristic, conversational, and clear, that they were less obscured by instrumentation as on the album made them all the more in-your-face. As such, a song like upbeat strummer "Everything Almost", wherein she wonders whether she's doing and saying the right things in a burgeoning relationship (and she's even doing the wondering out loud, in real time) is borderline like watching theater: At one moment, she cracks up at the thought of being a needy pregnant partner, and at the next, cowers at the idea that her parents might not be around to meet their grandchild.

Diaz

Diaz's unbridled outpouring can be jarring, but it's undoubtedly powerful. On Wednesday, huge-sounding songs like "For Months Now", "KFM", and "Resentment" transformed into intimate singalongs. "Hurting You", performed solo on acoustic guitar, became an even more hushed ode to picking yourself back up after a heartbreak, learning how to move on from grief. And though Kacey Musgraves didn't show up to duet "Don't Do Me Good", the crowd's belting of the all-timer country chorus was as stubborn as the song's protagonist herself.

If Diaz has grown as a songwriter over time and as she's penned for pop and country stars, it's clear that her time opening for the likes of Waxahatchee, Angel Olsen, and Harry Styles has allowed her to understand that, when performing, just because a space is big doesn't mean it always needs to be filled. The subject matter of her songs could be constantly cried out, but she belted only for maximum impact, contrasting the dulled tom thuds on "Get to Know Me", or holding a single note on "Crying in Public". For the most part, her vocal delivery was subtle, especially when she harmonized with Popick on "Girlfriend" and delved into fatalistic tricks on the unreleased "Worst Case Scenario", a song that tests her "theory of imagining the worst possible thing happening" so that it won't happen, or "expecting nothing and then being pleasantly surprised." At one point, on "Worst Case Scenario", she exclaimed, off-beat, "I'm gonna think of it!" over chugging drums and barn-burning riffs, recalling the tossed-off singing of Jason Molina.

Adam Popick and Diaz

Where Diaz finds ultimate peace is not in fatalism or nihilism but a sort of existentialism. She spends a lot of Weird Faith looking for meaning in giving your all to someone, and even weather patterns. But on "Kiss the Wall", she proclaims, "Nothin' is a waste of time," connecting the most boring moments when we're waiting in line for something to one's own legacy, perceiving that we all make tiny changes to earth. During her encore, Diaz said she didn't believe a mere two years ago that she could spend time on stage singing about such a raw period in her life. As she wrote Weird Faith "on the backs of mantras," she started to believe in herself. It's clear, now, that one of those mantras is that every moment carries weight. She ended the night performing the title track on acoustic guitar, visibly emotional as she left the stage. As the house lights went up, we were graced by none other than Limp Bizkit's cacophonous cover of George Michael's "Faith", a reminder that even the cruelest of jokes can be earnest expressions of the universe's necessary chaos.

Jack Van Cleaf

Opening was Nashville-via-Chicago songwriter Jack Van Cleaf, an acoustic guitar picker whose songs and performances, like Diaz's contain heart-to-heart chatter. Lines like, "Love is like a rattlesnake / Before it bites, it tries to warn ya," from "Rattlesnake" were perfect bedfellows to Diaz's "Same Risk". And perhaps it was a mix of Van Cleaf fans and Diaz fans attuned to storytelling, but I was wowed by the audience's reaction to his songs as much as the songs themselves. On the unreleased "Using You"--which employs drug metaphors to explore how people use each other for attention during a relationship--the audience reacted with every lyrical twist and turn, despite likely never before having heard the song. After performing it, Van Cleaf asked those taking videos to tag him on Instagram, not for clout, but so he could watch it and fine-tune the song. Yes, such symbiosis carried seamlessly into Diaz's set, but for Van Cleaf in a vacuum, it's easy to see how another unreleased song like "Piñata" came to be given his appetite for feedback. It wasn't just the words themselves but the way he delivered the line, "I'm full of sugar / I'm full of niceties / I'm full of shit," that hit harder than a candy bar after too many edibles. Next time Van Cleaf comes to Lincoln Hall, he might be the headliner making people cry.

Van Cleaf

Van Cleaf

Van Cleaf