#and i’ve been needing to write this fic for a WHILE

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

Um ok guys I wrote something to post??? I’m scared bc this kinda sucks but I’ve been writing a lot of random stuff for Patrick and I finally feel ok enough about this fic to publish it i guess 😭😭 this is not really proofread or edited much, so yeah 😭😭

Patrick Zweig x Reader, 1.4k words (Art is also mentioned), and they’re all around college age.

Childhood best friends, mutual pining, fluff, first kiss/admission of feelings, and all of the things.

TW for drinking/alcohol use

Patrick had been one of your closest friends since kindergarten, and ever since you two had met, you were attached at the hip. Even after Patrick had gone off to Mark Rebelatto’s Tennis Academy, even though you didn’t see each other as much, he always made sure to text and surprise you whenever he was home. As you both grew up, you watched Patrick change- he went from the goofy kid with big ears to a tall, and honestly hot guy. And he was well aware of it. Everywhere you went, you saw how he acted- he was so sure of himself, so cocky, and he acted brash and loud. But you knew him better than that.

When it was just the two of you, Patrick was gentle and sweet. He had always been touchy, somehow always managing to go from across the couch to having his arm around you on your movie nights. He was just like that with his friends, totally.

Throughout your friendship, he was always there to protect you; he always kept you close during your parent’s parties, knowing that you didn’t like events and social gatherings the way he did. He always guided you everywhere and took over conversations when he could tell that you didn’t feel like talking. His hand on your waist, he would guide you through the crowds, always making sure you were close to him. He could see right through you, and somehow in these times he understood exactly what you needed. Ever so often, he would slip his hand into yours and give it a tight squeeze to comfort you. This was just your routine, and you knew that Patrick was the only reason why you still agreed to go to these events.

Patrick had always been there for you. He came home from boarding school just for the weekend to take you to your senior prom, he came over and helped you pack for college, and he never forgot to call. Your relationship with him was so perfect… But there was just one problem.

You were in love with your best friend. And you watched him go on dates, sleep with girls, and you knew that he just didn’t want you like that. Every time he would pull you close, hold your hand, or cuddle you on the couch, you just had to remember that this was just his personality. He could get any girl he wanted, and you two were just meant to be friends.

You were good at holding your feelings in, terrified of disturbing the perfect relationship you had with Patrick- you couldn’t risk losing it all over a crush.

—--

Tonight was just like any other night with Patrick and Art- you were all hanging out in Patrick’s living room, drinking random cocktails Pat had mixed up for you, and watching a movie. The three of you were apart most of the year- you in college on the east coast, Art at Stanford, and Patrick just traveling around playing pro tennis. So every summer, you made sure to hang out at least a couple times all together, usually just getting drunk and talking about everything and nothing.

The three of you were lounging in the living room watching some stupid horror movie that none of you really cared about. You and Patrick were on opposite sides of the couch, and Art was comfy on the armchair next to you guys. As the movie progressed, the three of you got drunker, and you started to feel more hazy- so when Patrick pulled you into his arms, holding you as you two watched the movie, you couldn’t help but nuzzle closer into him, melting into his touch. While you two cuddling was nothing new, this was different: it felt a little more sweet and intimate than normal.

You whispered to him, “Hey, I missed you while I was at college”, closing your eyes, tired from the drinking.

Patrick’s face turned red when you whispered that, and he looked away. It wasn’t fair of you to be sweet like that when he was trying so hard to not lean in and kiss you. You understood Patrick in a way that no one else did, and you were the only person he could be completely vulnerable with. He was different with you than with everyone else, and he loved to care for you. Since late in high school, he had been desperate to tell you that he wanted you, but he couldn’t lose you. The commitment was terrifying, and also, Patrick wasn’t even sure if you wanted him that way. So, he had carried that with him for years- but he still couldn’t help himself from needing you close, and he couldn’t stop himself when he cupped your face with his hand, and tilted your head up at him.

“I missed you too”, he whispered. It was already hard for him to not confess to you while he was sober, but now that he was tipsy, it felt almost impossible to keep his words from spilling out. You two locked eyes for a moment, and the way he looked at you felt almost unreal. He looked at you like you were some sort of angel, his eyes filled with an adoration and sweetness that was so unlike the Patrick Zweig you were familiar with.

After a moment, he looked away, his face turning slightly red. Feeling bold, you nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck, just wanting to be closer. You knew that you would regret being this obvious in the morning- he was just drunk, he probably didn’t actually love you- but you couldn’t help yourself. He held you tighter in his arms as the movie played, and the night got later.

At this point, Art had fallen asleep on the armchair- and as soon as he opened his eyes, he smiled and announced that he was going to bed- this movie sucked anyways. He looked at you and Patrick curled into each other, and he didn’t even seem surprised- he knew how much Patrick liked you, even if Patrick tried to hide it. So, he went upstairs, leaving the two of you on the couch. You both were silent for a couple minutes, unsure if you should say anything. Patrick pretended to be into the movie, but all he could think about was you in his arms.

He whispered your name, looking into your eyes as you glanced up at him. You saw him glance down at your lips and then staring back up at you, and he looked more nervous than you had ever seen him. His hand cupped your face gently, as he whispered, “is this ok?”. You nodded, holding back a small smile as he leaned in and kissed you.

The kiss felt natural for the two of you- like it was something you had done a million times before. Patrick couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, barely believing that he was actually, finally kissing you. Patrick had been dreaming of this moment for years, even though he would never admit it.

He pulled away from your lips gently, pressing small, sweet kisses all over your jaw. You laugh softly as he moves his hands from your face and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You closed your eyes, the lateness of the night sinking in. You felt so relaxed and content as Patrick continued to press soft kisses down your neck.

You both eventually laid down on the couch, Patrick’s arm slung across your waist as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Your drunkenness took over and the world spun around you, but Patrick’s strong arms around you made you feel held in place. You drifted off to sleep, trying to avoid thinking about what things would be like in the morning- because for now, you were happy.

Patrick’s hand rubbed lazy circles into your back as he held you close to him, and felt his stomach twisting with anxiety and happiness, his heart beating faster as he pulled you tighter. He heard your breathing slow down as you fell asleep against him, and he wished to himself for this moment to never end.

Patrick eventually fell asleep against you, and he held you tight for the rest of the night.

[teamdilf]

bestie I am begging you I'm lit obsessed w your Solavellan stuffs I hope you keep writing abt them after all that.......... happened in Veilguard...... and I ALSO wanna kno what you think of it once you finished 🤭🫣😭👁️👁️

I’ve already got one post-Veilguard fic up and am working on another! I’ll put my thoughts under a cut for the sake of people who haven’t finished yet.

In general, I loved the game. It had its issues - I think the lack of world state customization hurt the narrative, leaving it feeling disconnected from the other games.

I didn’t feel as strongly about the companions as I have in the previous games - but I’ve also only played once, and I finished the game over six days. I’ve just started a second run and I’ll be playing over a much longer period of time so I’m hoping that will change.

Bellara and Davrin were my favourites, though and I romanced Davrin, and thought it was lovely. 💜 I’d been so lukewarm on Bellara in Vows & Vengeance so I was pleasantly surprised by how much I loved her. Emmrich was also lovely, but I didn’t connect with his storyline, truth be told.

Having developed my Rook, Melody, so much beforehand was helpful from a role playing perspective, especially since I was disappointed in the lack of Lords of Fortune lore. Her backstory has changed a bit to correspond with canon reveals about the LOF origin, and I’d like to write about the early years of her life, and meeting her mentor/adoptive father, Marcel.

Now, on to my Solavellan thoughts! 😂 I was happy with the ending. Thrilled, honestly, because I’d predicted long ago that the happiest ending they’d ever have would have Iris leaving to live with Solas in the Fade. I adored the Loki/Sigyn allusions to their ending.

That being said, I think they could have stood to let their reunion breathe a bit. I didn’t like that Solas refused Lavellan when she asked him to stop - I think it would have felt better if he’d been waffling, and not get answered when Morrigan intervened and brought Mythal to speak to him. Initially I’d been pretty pissed that it was Mythal and not Rook or Lavellan who talked him down, but after a few days of reflection, I’m more OK with it. He needed to be freed from his self-imposed bonds in order to be able to move forward and start the work to accept what he’s done cannot be undone without causing mass carnage.

That he ended the game as the veilguard (willing or unwilling) felt right - he needs to atone for all he’s done and his vow to protect the world with every breath he takes was moving and satisfying.

The kiss was fine - he’d gotten chewed up by an archdemon and was in rough shape so, much as I’d have loved a bit of tongue in there, my assumption is Lavellan was being careful not to hurt him. 😂 I wish we’d gotten more of his expressions - the fly cam shots floating around are beautiful and I’d have loved to see him smile as he gazes at his love in-game, rather than via fly cam.

Long story short, while the journey wasn’t perfect, the destination was, and I’ve got a whole list of fanfic ideas to tackle - both featuring Iris and Solas, as well as Melody and Davrin. Right now I’m working on a fic set immediately after Solas and Iris arrive at the prison. It’s heavy on the hurt/comfort on account of Solas taking a legendary ass-kicking, but I’d also like to explore Iris’ own regret, given the nature of the space they’re living in, as well as her efforts to alter the space to make it a home and not a prison. It’ll be a slow effort, but you can see the end result of that work in the fic I linked above, which is set three years after the end of Veilguard.

[azaharinflames]

Well, after laying on my bed in the absolute dark with music, and after bawling my eyes out, I feel better 🥰

And I know, I know, this must feel stupid. It just was the straw that broke the camel’s back. the elections in the us are bad enough, but on top of that, my city is currently victim of the biggest natural catastrophe of this century in my country, so. that’s been heavy. i’m okay, my family is okay, and even when i still have to hear back from one person, it’s just because she doesn’t have service, i know she’s safe. but the last two weeks have felt so heavy, and i desperately needed a win.

well.

that being said! I am pondering writing my first Bucktommy fic, as I had an idea I felt worth at least trying for. Would anyone be interested, or is it not the time?

It’d be my first 911 fic, but i’ve been wanting to publish something for a while. i was struggling with it, but there is something about not looking at canon all the time that makes it easier to write.

so. any interest?

[pancho-pinto]

I think we'll be okay

gift for @lampinnit for @mcyt-trick-or-treat!

Fandom: Dream SMP Words: 1,089 Rating: General Warnings: No Warnings Relationships: Tommy & Tubbo & Ranboo Additional Tags: Tommy-centric, Hanging Out Summary: Tommy hangs out with Tubbo and Ranboo, and nothing really happens. After everything, that's all they can ever want.

fic under cut

Tommy looks at the sky, watching the sun set slowly. 

Ranboo and Tubbo are arguing about something dumb behind him, and the breeze touches his face, drying the sweat on his skin. He can feel the strain on his muscles, the weight of his sword on his hand feels semi-nice. His leather armor is light, and for once, he did not fight for the chance to live another day. 

No, not today. 

At Tubbo’s insistence, they rummaged through abandoned chests, pushed through cobwebs and got dirty under their fingernails looking for spare leather pieces. Worn and old and stained, but enough to make some armor. Their swords were chipped and wobbly, dull from having been inside chests so long, but they did not mind as they pulled them out, raising it to the air in an act of defiance. 

Things change, and one day, things are no longer what they were before. 

It’s still a sword, Tubbo’s words echo as they slashed the air carelessly, Ranboo hurriedly jumping out of the way for safety. Despite everything, it’s still a sword. 

Without its shine or its sharpness, without enchantments or engravings to claim ownership, they are still swords. 

So they grabbed a handful, rattling in their arms as they made their way through ruins. Memories flood their minds, yet the melancholy is replaced with something nicer, sweeter, softer. 

Ranboo gushes over a series they have been writing. Tubbo nonchalantly mentions some machinery capable of reaching the center of the world. And Tommy… Tommy talks about his sheep, a little friend he made a while ago. 

He looks at the horizon and remembers his cottage, something small and easy to keep-up with. For himself and his sheep. And he finds, after a while, that being alone is not so bad. He finds his friends when he wants, no interceptions, no fights. Just a couple hours together to goof around and be stupid. Then he goes home, then he comes back, then he goes home at will. 

He finds breathing easier. He finds existing easier. 

But the sun dips further, and the sky darkens. 

Tonight they will not go home instantly, rather, at Niki’s invitation, they will join her and Jack for supper. 

They do that often too. A couple hours together to eat and be. 

He looks forward to those nights, especially. Sure, being stupid with Tubbo and Ranboo is always nice, but a hearty soup and some warm bread beats anything. All day Niki and Jack would have spent in the kitchen to prepare this meal, and Tommy cannot wait for it. 

“Hey, big man, you alright over there?” Tubbo calls, voice followed by some footsteps. Closer, closer, and Tommy finds himself not flinching. He has not flinched for a while, none of them have. 

“Uh, not that I don’t care, but if you need a moment, maybe you could wait until we get to Niki and Jack’s place?” Ranboo adds, his tone always laced with worry. But there is that purr of an enderman under his voice, jarringly worried as always. “You– You know, mobs will start spawning and, uh, we don’t really– we aren’t really armed for that. Or anything, really.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo questions, and his sword slashes the air as he unsheaths it. “I’ve my sword! And TNT! We’ll be fine, Ranboo!”

“Absolutely not to the TNT!”

“It’s good. Convenient. Clears up a wide area in a short amount of time. Do you know how well it is at clearing up space? And– And you shouldn’t worry, I have plenty of practice. I am practically an expert at TNT now. A– A TNT techni- tech… technizioner? No, that’s not– TNT techi… cian? TNT technician. That’s it. That.” 

“If Niki– Oh, if Niki finds out we got injured on the way, she’ll be upset! Plus, that’s just plain reckless. And, and– And unnecessary!”

Tubbo thumps with a huff, and Ranboo replies with enderian whizzing. 

These days, Tommy finds that he does not want to insert himself, even in petty, inconsequential squabbles. He finds, too, that watching is enough. Even fun, at times. Ranboo and Tubbo just have clashing personalities, and he is sure he would not trade them for anything in the world. 

They are worth it, after all. Despite it all. 

Tommy sighs, putting on a show of exasperation as he finally turns back to see them in a glare stand-off, and quickly tries to put an annoyed frown. He tries to clench his jaw and grit his teeth, but it hurts too much to hold for more than a second. In place, he crosses his arms. 

“Do you have to fight every time we hang out?”

“It’s not a fight,” Tubbo states with confidence. 

Then Ranboo adds quickly, an almost practiced routine between them, “Just a mere disagreement that will get resolved quickly.”

He rolls in his eyes, then gestures with his head towards the path, “Yeah, right, sure.”

They walk on rickety boards, the path rotting at the edges, vines and weeds slowly crawling over it. But it is familiar, and this is nothing they think about twice anymore. Just a path, the route to take them from one place to another. 

Tommy falls a step behind, allowing himself to reminisce despite knowing he should not. Because the bad comes with the good, but he cannot have the good without the bad, and he knows he is not ready yet to face all the bad like this. There is too much, so much that happened over a very long time, right on this path, this very world. 

He moved away long ago. Ranboo has too. Tubbo is still near. Niki and Jack are still the closest, seemingly able to move on readily. One of these days, he needs to ask them how they have drawn the line so clearly. And one of these days, he hopes he can move on too. 

Maybe he should gather his things and move as far as he can, far in the horizon where no one has been before. A change of scenery, putting distance between his past life and his future life. Start from zero. 

That is an option. 

Go the distance and never look back, that is an option. 

But those are thoughts for another day. For now, he looks back over his shoulder, looking at the spot where their broken swords and ripped leather littered the ground. A final look for tonight, for a moment. 

The sun falling under the horizon behind their bench.

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[seiwas]

just a lil bit of a share ! i’ve been feeling really down lately about not writing that much 🥲 and keeping up with posting more frequently/updating a few of my series more regularly 🥲 but i looked at my masterlists and noticed almost 60% of my fics are actually from this year and we’re only half-way in 🥺

anyway ! the point of this is, if you’re being too hard on yourself today, i hope you’re reminded that you’re doing much better than you think 🥺

[headfullof-ideas]

Accidentally deleted this trying to deal with the two reblogs of my last post that i accidentally did trying to reblog it to a community, so here we go again. These out of context doodles are a little different, they were more practice for angles. The first one I’m not too happy with, but i guess that’s what practice is for. Most of these are for scenes that haven’t been written, or haven’t even been outlined yet. The one with Ardyn and Kari and the spear-arrow thing im not even sure will make the Final Cut, though I hope i can fit it in because the fight it’s part of would be really fun to write, especially since it involves a lot of development between Ardyn and Kari

[satangcrush]

I have so many wips that are half-written and here comes another satan fic that just nudged itself to the top of the list and called the rest losers.

wrote the satan fic on my commute because the brain rot really got to me again 😭

[bicheetopuff]

for the ask game, what're your thoughts on togachako

I’m so sorry for taking so long to respond to this @frausted !!

Ship it

1. What made you ship it?

Idk any other way to word it other than, I admire their devotion to each other. I appreciate that even though Togas a villain, Ochako ignored that to see her for who she actually was underneath her unwarranted villain title.


2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

As a queer POC, I relate to Toga a lot (I also share her bday btw which is fun). Although my phase of “I’m misunderstood and I’m tired of people telling me I can’t be who I am” wasn’t as violent or morbid as Togas, I grew up in a very conservative county so people telling me who I need to be happened a lot and I would lose friends for not conforming.

Also I love how Toga kinda set the foundation for what love is in the story and Ochako kind of refuted that with her own version of love.

Ochako was basically told since the beginning of the story that she liked Deku and that she’s supposed to like Deku because she’s a girl and he’s a guy and Toga kind of set that idea in stone for Ochako when she asked her “don’t you wanna be just like the people you love?”

I don’t doubt that she did like Deku at the beginning of the story but she tried so hard to live by Togas ideology to try to mimic Deku, because that’s what’s she’s “supposed” to do, but it never worked for her and she became frustrated with it. She’s “kinda weird” cuz she’s not capable of loving the same way everyone else does and she envies Toga for being able to do it so confidently.

Their characters were truly made for each other. Toga was the person that made Ochako genuinely consider what love actually was and Ochako is the first person to love Toga the way she needed to be loved in the language of giving instead of mimicking and I just find the whole thing pretty poetic.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don’t think they’ll be canon. I view them more as a romantic tragedy. While Ochako admires and loves Toga, I don’t think she’s capable of being in love with her. Plus a big part of her character is learning to be your own person so I feel like being single would be the best ending for her.

I don’t think bnha is a manga that’ll be open to the hero x villain trope so I view it as a kinda “right person, wrong time/met too late” kinda thing cuz at the end of the day, Toga has murdered people and even almost killed Ochako. I feel like if Ochako had met Toga before she resorted to killing people, they would’ve been the perfect match honestly. But, this isn’t Naruto. I don’t think people would take kindly to hori bullshitting the villains out of going to prison or at least correctional facilities for the sake of half baked endgame ships. Their relationship isn’t developed enough to get away with that unfortunately. That probably isn’t as unpopular of an opinion as I think it is though…

ASK GAME

[greenfrogartist]

Alright, this is the other fanart for the Ben 10 fic “metamorphosis “

My main thought behind this was “what would a cover for such a fic even look like” and this is the outcome

With that being said! It’s actually more light hearted than this fanart would lead you to believe! (At least after a few chapters of the angst and pain and all)

Hope you like this too, @the-stove-is-divorced ! I adore all your fics, even the one I’ve yet to read! Thank you for sharing it!

[gay-victorian-astronomer]

I am being haunted by visions of a fic and in posession of a large block of time I could use to write and no laptop to write with I am in agony

[scionshtola]

thinking about cori and shtola making the transition from friends to romantic partners and i don’t think there was any nervousness there at all like once they kissed it was just so natural and they knew they were in it for good…and this is why they say i love you day 3 of the relationship

[crybaby-bkg]

I think I might take a break from writing on here (quite possible a lie) </3

[galadrielette]

I think I’ve read all the helaegon that’s actually focused on them in the ao3 tag

[malachitezmeyka]

I’m currently having a bit of a Moment because I’m still enjoying the high of having enjoyed writing and posting Astraphobia but it just suddenly hit me– was this… how it was supposed to feel this entire time?? Is that why people on here always talk about how much fun and enjoyment writing brings them??? Is it actually not all pain and suffering and tears and desperately wanting to quit throughout???? Really?????

[noramoons]

i live