#and maybe its because i've never moved always lived in the same place all my life but i hate having a room cleared i hate having to stuff

[folkloregirlfriend]

i am in a miserable place

[bornagainmurdock]

one night stand // matt murdock headcannnons

contents: 18+ ONLY, smut/suggestive, gender neutral reader

word count: .9k

is a gentleman but in the way that he'll never invite himself over to your place, it's always his

party because he knows where everything is at his place and doesn't at other people's places, but also he likes the control of it

knowing he can change/alter the environment

also forces him to maintain a clean space and proper living conditions bc he's never home

will lean you up against the outside of his apartment door while he fumbles with the kepys to let you in

drops his jacket, shoes, etc. at the front door and leaves it in a pile there

also leaves your things there, jacket, bag, shoes, etc.

he wants you undressed as fast as possible, but waits to undress himself as a method of teasing you

leaves his glasses on until the other person says something, or they become a safety hazard

likes to start in the living room on the couch, or maybe the ktichen depending how long he can wait before bending you over

rough hands all over your body, they're somehow gentle though at the same time and inquisitive, waiting for permission to touch new boundaries of your skin

acts explicit consent

"can i kiss you?"

"can i fuck you bent over my kitchen counter?"

"can i strip you down and bruise you until you cry?"

very good with his words, perhaps his secret weapon

knows what his voice does to other people and is very cocky about it, constantly teasing

dirty talking king, knows exactly what to say to drive you crazy

"already a mess and all i've done is talk to you. so you must either really like the sound of my voice, or you like how filthy my words are. which one hmm? both?"

likes to mark but absolutley asks if he can and if so where

"can i mark you? you wear turtlenecks often? because you might have to tomorrow."

will learn what makes you tick by listening to your heartbeat and using it against you

can't stop looking at/focusing on his hands? oh get ready to be ruined by them

a biter

like teeth marks that least a few days and bruise into skin

messy kisser

like nasty, dirty, filthy, his tongue is everywhere and leaving shivers across your body

likes to bit at shoulders, neck, jaw, colalr bones, feeling the blood rush there and pulse under skin

doesn't rush things, he likes playing the waiting game, likes experimenting with different sensations to drive you wild

has a lot of toys and tools, but doesn't tend to bring them out the first time he's with someone

that involved a much more indepth conversations that he's too imapatient to have the first go around

eventually everything leads back to his bed, the light of the billboard illuminating the room adding that really aesthetic touch to the whole encounter

loves the pre-sex activities especially

the grinding and hair pulling, the rough sensual acts where you can both act so feral and animalistic

especially loves the idea of being fully clothes with a partner who is naked and making them grind on his thigh

man understands how to do the knee grinding move correctly

tenses his muscles at all the right times

always has his mouth on you, either that or whispering the filthiest things into your ear

a desparate man who is unafraid to show that desparation

when topping, likes to put his partner on the edge of the bed so he has the most leverage, pillow under your hips and everything to get the deepest angle

when bottoming, doggy style, head down resting on his arms, likes the feel the force of the thrusts through his whole body

alwasy, though, loud

he's so fucking loud and whiny, and moaning constantly

likes to be scratched and played with, and will hiss

truly a sadomasochist who will take any sensation he can get

like i said, animalistic

has a whole stash of condoms and lube in his bedside table that gets its fair share of use

he has latex and latex free condoms in separate locations bc safety is important

leather cuffs are always hanging off his headboard, and if you ask he will use them

literally always ready to have an intensely kinky time if the other person also wants to

is the person to initiate clean up at the end and offer a towel and the bathroom for you to shower or clean up, has a set of clothes for you to wear if you want to stay

likes when he hook ups sleep there bc then he can spoil them with breakfast in the morning

word around town says matt murdock makes a mean chai latte and pancakes

isn't offended if people don't stay, or leave in the middle of the night

he knows it's part of the life

his number one rule is don't get attached but he can't help it sometimes

avoids giving or receiving forehead kisses bc he thinks it's too intimate for a hook up

sharing clothes? just fine. forehead kiss? romantic, will catch feelings whether he wants to or not

will see the same person more than once, but it has to be organic

not a man to have a list of booty calls, too complicated and messy for him

will just go to a bar and get lucky each time

josie's accused him of running a match making busines out of her bar

[ineffabildaddy]

on today's episode of understanding good omens through my own life:

a story about my ineffable inevitable queer teenage experience with an intense, volatile, fiercely affectionate 'friendship' that was definitely not just a friendship in retrospect.

when i was eleven, i started secondary school, and i met a girl who quickly became my best friend (i'm a trans man, and i also understood myself as a girl at the time. i still understand myself as a girl at that time). we became known as a unit because we couldn't get enough of each other, and we did absolutely everything together.

on the first day of our second year, we saw each other for the first time in several weeks because she had been away in her home country that summer. i had been counting down the seconds until she came back. when she was in the process of giving out souvenirs from her trip to all our friends, she waited until she saw i was alone and approached me. she handed me a ziploc bag full of shells and rock fragments.

"i picked these out for you at the beach," she said.

i thanked her and asked her to show me the bags of shells she'd made up for the others.

"i didn't do this for the others. i only did it for you," she responded, and walked away.

i had never felt anything like what i felt in that moment, and i haven't since. i was a lonely kid, especially before that age. what i mean to say is... no one had ever done anything just for me. no one had ever thought of me when i wasn't there; no one had ever taken the time to give me something that they had so carefully picked out; no one had ever stated with such conviction, in what was said or what was unsaid, that what they had done for me was not to be enjoyed by anyone else.

i like to remember this when i try to understand this moment in good omens:

i can't begin to comprehend what aziraphale must have felt in that moment, but remembering that day of my own life is the closest thing i've got.

mere months after that day, we started to argue. we had a huge falling out. i told her that no one on earth was capable of hurting me quite like she was (thirteen year-old me, in her own twisted way, thought that was a compliment). she told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn't stand me. we stopped talking.

a few months after that, we reconciled and we became closer than ever, but that tension, that unrest, was always lying under the surface, just waiting to gnash its teeth - and sometimes it did. these were also the years in which we were discovering our queer identities, and it took us a long time to really understand each other's journeys in that regard.

at sixteen, we both left our school and moved to a different institution till we graduated at eighteen. though we were at the same sixth form college, we just had different lives and didn't hang out anymore, though we remained on good terms. now, we text every once in a while, and we always say we'll meet up, but we never do. in october of last year, i bumped into her for the first time in maybe four years while coming home from a pavement gig. she was sitting on the doorstep of her parents' place with a roll-up cigarette. it was like no time had passed.

looking back, i can say with full confidence that i was in love with her. i do not know how else to understand our relationship. she drove me up the wall the way she did because i had never felt anything like what i felt for her for anyone else - and i haven't to this day.

even now, every time she is even mentioned in conversation, i dream about her the night following. and i still have those shells, hidden away in a wooden box i've never shown anyone; it's not too far from the shoebox that contains every note she ever passed me, every doodle she ever drew for me, every card she ever wrote me. in other words, i was permanently altered by our relationship, and her absence from my life has never diminished that. the same can naturally be said of crowley and aziraphale, to a much, much greater extent. i relive my memories of us because they help me understand many things about myself and others, and i've recently found that good omens has encouraged this.

this ended up longer than i intended but i hope you got something out of it.<3

[alloftheimaginesblog]

a little bit lost without you {e.m}

plot: you see eddie for the first time after your break up.

character: eddie munson x plus size reader

part of my eddie munson ‘pretty eyes’ series

Of course you knew the day would come where you'd run into Eddie and you'd have to speak to him again and honestly, you were a little surprise that it hadn't already happened yet. In the months since your break-up you'd practiced over and over speeches that you'd say to him, vent out every last frustration so that you could move on with your life but when you did eventually run into him... all of that went out the window and all you could do was stand and gape at him like a fish out of water.

He looked the same with the same curled hair, the same big brown eyes, the same rings on his fingers, the same denim vest with the same patches sewn onto it... Still had your pink hair tie on his wrist, even after all this time.

"Hey, pretty eyes," he said after a few moments of pregnant pause.

Shit.

Maybe you weren't as over him as you thought you were. You'd convinced yourself you were over him but now seeing him in front of you... your heart ached. It was him calling you 'pretty eyes'. You missed that nickname, it was the sweetest nickname anyone had ever given you.

"Hey, Eds..." You said, voice a little hoarse.

You hadn't really expected to run into him in the mall, Eddie had always spoken about his hatred of the mall for all the stupid teenagers who would hang around here but maybe you didn't know him that well anymore.

You shifted uncomfortably. You didn't really know what to say. All that time you'd spent rehearsing your speech and you could remember none of it, "Uh, how are-"

"How's thing-"

"Sorry." The two of you both said at the same time after speaking over the other.

Eddie rubbed his neck as he gave a small chuckle, "How's things?"

Do you want the truth? Do you want to hear how awful I've felt without you? Do you want to know about all the sleepless nights, the crying, the regret? Do you really want to know?

"Yeah, I've been alright," you said, overly happy as you plastered a grin on your face, "What about you?" Eddie's smile faltered upon hearing how good you've been doing. He didn't know whether you were telling him the truth or not but he took what you were saying for face value.

He shrugged, "Yeah, yeah... not bad." It was a bit ass lie. Eddie had spent his months wallowing. He had fucked your relationship and he hated himself for it. It had ended because he was in a rut, refusing help and refusing to help himself. You had tried to help but he pushed you away and you gave him an ultimatum, be better or be single. Eddie hated himself for making the wrong choice, "You look great. I mean you always do but... yeah." You looked down at your outfit, jeans and a jumper nothing that great but Eddie had always loved the way you looked. He had always loved your body, despite its size, despite its curves, despite the fat rolls and stretch marks. Eddie was one of the reasons you had grown to love yourself; you saw how much he loved you and you started doing the same. He always treated you with such love and care, never making you feel ugly or unwanted... He was good.

It was like you were watching yourself from above, an our of body experience, is that what they call it? You heard yourself saying, "Well, it was nice seeing you." Saw yourself giving Eddie one last pathetic smile before starting to walk away. Why were you just leaving? There were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you needed to say.

Eddie wasn't letting you go so easily though.

"I got a job!" He called, a little louder than necessary as a few people turned to look at him to see who was shouting about a job.

You stopped.

"Eddie, you can't keep living like this! You need to get out, do more than just sit and get high! You need to get a job, make your own money, save up for a place of your own!"

"I'm fine the way I am, thanks though."

That was one of the fights that ended your relationship. He refused to help himself, refused to get a job and fund his habits... You had supported him through money you'd gotten from your own job and you couldn't do it anymore. You just couldn't.

You stayed frozen, facing the other way, so Eddie continued talking, "That's why I'm here, you know I hate the mall. It's in the music shop, the one beside The Gap... It's a couple of days after school and the weekends. I've been using the money to help my Uncle, started saving up and even bought myself a proper bed frame like you suggested... I've been trying." It was true. He had been trying, he'd actively been trying to better himself.

For a week after the break up, he had been expecting you to come back. He had convinced himself that it was all just a stupid fight and you didn't mean what you said, that your ultimatum was just you being dramatic... Until he woke up one day and realised you really weren't planning on coming back. He replayed that fight over and over in his head, regretting every response and scoff that he did. Your requests weren't so stupid as he thought. He looked around his room at the mess he'd let himself get into; no money, no job, no friends, no girlfriend. That's when he decided to change.

You turned to him, face softened but eyes sad, "I'm happy for you, Eds," you said quietly, "it'll be good for you."

"It is," he nodded. He could sense that you were pulling away again so he took a breath, "I'm not doing good at all actually, (y/n). I'm having a hard time-"

"Eddie..."

"I'm lost without you. I'm trying to be better, I've been trying so hard I promise. I-I fucked up, (y/n) and..." He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting his shoulders sag, "I miss you."

Your heart panged. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, remembering the good times. For most of your relationship, things were great. He could always make you laugh, made you feel so loved. He was the one that protected you from Carver and his cronies after they mocked you for your weight. Eddie loved all of you, curves and fat rolls and all. He always made you feel equal, never less than.

"I... I don't know what to say, Eds," you whispered, eyes flooding with tears, "I've been trying to move on, move past you and this- you... it's confusing."

Eddie nodded, wringing his hands together before stuffing them in his pockets, "Can I take you for lunch?" He asked, "My treat."

You pursed your lips, debating it over in your head, "Is that a good idea?" You asked, "I mean... I dunno. I don't know." Your head was reeling with the thoughts and worries you had.

He stepped a little closer, not too close but just a little closer, "Hey, it's okay," he gave you a small smile, "we don't have to. I just... I miss you and I thought it might be nice but it's okay. Seeing you, knowing that you're doing okay-"

"I'm not okay though." You hadn't meant to spill the beans but everything was overwhelming and he'd been so honest and you just snapped, "I've not been okay at all." Eddie really fought hard to not smile at that but you corners of his mouth did tilt upwards, "Okay..." you exhaled, "let's go for lunch."

He grinned, "Wanna go to your favourite?"

You nodded, "Yeah, that sounds good."

He gestured towards the south entrance and told you his van was parked out there, he'd drive and the two of you walked towards the exit. Your hands fidgeted with your sleeves and if you were being honest you might as well tell him, "I'm a little bit lost without you too, Eds."

Maybe there was hope after all.

[itstheghostofmypast]

🌻Imperfections🌻

Draco Malfoy x (f)Reader (Hufflepuff)

Summary: Perfection is what defined those who were above the rest- yet, she could not be part of the perfection that defined him. Defined his society and very presence- defined her own family but not her. She was the imperfection within his world of perfection, the bright sun in his cool, pale blue sky. For even if she was the warm sun, he was nothing more than the silver moon- both destined to live in the same sky but never together.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

AU: NO VOLDEMORT - Plus Cedric is vibing, I'm sorry he's too precious.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts

Part- 4/?

Masterlist / Previous

28th September

I truly fail to understand how a parent cannot love a child. Is blood not to be thicker than water? A being stronger than a name or title, perhaps these were all metaphoric beliefs passed down by a delusional fool, for my family has, and always will, prove to me that my birth is a sigil of shame on the insignia of our family. A birth that only exists for the family archives, in a file locked away behind the vault.  

It is only worsened by the letter I had received today- letters actually, though one hurt me more than the other. Mother really is a work of art. I feel like the only bright side of today was meeting Draco. A bit weird- a few screws too tight but he's alright.

Scoffing at the conclusion, he flipped the page, "Like she's any better."

29th September

I have a feeling that I'm going insane. I've done so much, and tried so hard, but that same nightmare keeps haunting me. The moment my head hits the pillow it starts to manifest around me. One minute I'm up in the skies and the next I'm falling and falling and falling.

1st October

 I think I've got it, maybe I've been dreaming of falling off the astronomy tower, maybe because I sit so close to the edge. Draco told me to move too- could be it. Sometimes, perhaps, more often than just some, I do wonder if I were to tip-off. What if the only way to end this curse would be to do

Frowning at the statement he flipped over the page, to find a new entry. Why did she stop, what was the cure? Wait, so there was a way to end the curse- but then again, he didn't know what the curse was in the first place. She just assumed it was the fact that she was a Puff- but technically that's not a curse. Well, it is in its way- but not the hex kind. Maybe if he dug into it a bit- no wait, what was he thinking, not only had he made it clear to her how the two were from two different worlds, but she most probably could not even stand listening to his name, let alone have a whole conversation with him- especially one that revolved around such an unpleasant topic. Sighing he flipped onto the next entry.

3rd October

Draco confuses me, at times I feel like we are friends, but only moments later I am reminded about my status, being put back in place. Like that day he was staring at me in class, I could feel it, and when our eyes met...it was like it was just us, no one around us, nothing stopping us- or perhaps I am but a foolish girl, my own heart has begun to play tricks on me. Or maybe I finally saw someone of the same air not judge me? Not belittle me or not look at me with pity. Then he was upset during practice like I was nothing more than a stranger to him, well, I do feel like he was not upset, but jealous, Zabini had come a bit too close for comfort, and if he had not pulled away the fool, I may have let my intrusive thoughts win, much to everyone’s displeasure- especially Cedric.

Why in the good name of Heaven must she mention that fool? Scoffing he scowled at the name, bloody bastard took most of her attention and time- creep needs to be put- wait, did she just? His eyes scanned through the paragraph once more, again, and again, so it was true then. Zabini was right, this sickening feeling of being choked into ecstasy was not a one-sided curse he was suffering, it was her too- well, probably not anymore, considering he had just been humiliated for the last time. He’d be lying if he were to say he felt any joy in doing so, once again, this was done for two reasons; to preserve his reputation and to keep her out of harm’s way. Only this little tactic had begun to take a toll on him, whether he would ever admit it out loud or not, she had slowly seeped into his being, the essence of his soul- his mind (much like now) had been racing with thoughts of her, his fingers would twitch at the subtle thought of her, or if he’d see her in the hallways, during the time of ‘abstaining from the puff’ as Zabini called it. He was itching to feel her warmth, to feel her soft palm against his cold, clammy ones, using her warmth to put an end to the blizzard that had frozen most of him. These thoughts were nothing more than thoughts though, no good came from acting on them, which is why he held back- in fact, he was surprised that he was able to hold back tonight when she was only a breath away before confessing, his brain had malfunctioned, fixated not on the argument but her lips, noting the slight quiver of her lip, wanting to feel them against his, that would explain how he hand ended up confessing, instead of saying something else, something that would have hurt her less. Perhaps, at the end of it all, he was just a hormonal teenage boy, wearing a cloak of pretence- a mere boy, with no self-control, or maturity; so, was he then, imperfect?

4th October

It disgusts me, no, it haunts me, these feelings, these things swirling inside me. I cannot get rid of them; I cannot get rid of him. I feel as if my own heart has it against me, pulling me towards what I can never have, people who will never love me. I fought with Cedric today, it was awful, I felt awful, especially if I consider our history, how he has been nothing more than readily available to pick me up whenever I fell. A part of me enjoys it, embracing it as some kind of love, such as finding a lost duck or an injured animal, one you only help bring back to its feet and then let go of it. Then I wonder if I am no different than a feral animal. Is that what I am to him? Is that what I am to my parents? Does Draco think of me in such a manner as well? Or perhaps I am a mere jester, he is keeping sound for his own amusement. I think of this, yet, I spent hours begging the same fool I fought with in the morning, begging him to give me the handbook for captains. What's funny is he knew, he knew why I wanted it, and while giving it to me he gave me that look. The last time he looked at me like that was when I almost- I mean I was about to do it. Can't anymore though, the grill is installed pretty well. Once again, it was sickening, watching him care for me, being upset over my actions. I had assumed Draco would have the same look when I handed him the book, no, he didn't. It was different, it made me feel different, like a prickling sensation, one that had my imprudent, immature heart struggling against my ribs, wanting to jump into his breast pocket, to be closer to his own.

Slamming the diary shut he sat up, his own hands covering his face, palms pressing against his warm buzzing cheeks. This may have not been a good idea, but she was so hard to read and the fact that she felt this way about him, his parents were never this excited to see him and then this random puff pixie fluttered into his heart. Sighing he slid off the bed, feet pressing against the cold floor, his body too warm for comfort, the enormous room felt like it was closing in on him. Grabbing his robes, he marched out, taking in deep breaths, he was going to do it. He was going to find the cure, he was going to fix this curse, perhaps only then could he be free to have her- even if she was a Hufflepuff. While on his journey up a flight of stairs, he realized how his muscle memory had led him to the astronomy tower once more, but the bubbling cluster of endorphins left no room for annoyance. That’s what surprised him even more, for months, no almost years, he had been wrapped in the claws of every bitter feeling out there, and here he was, just thinking about her, he was willing to throw to waste the efforts of ignoring her for the past few months, impulsively jumping into a puddle of feelings, an unknown territory.

With a boom the door burst open, feet planting firmly on the floor as his eyes scanned the room, nearly missing the figure standing a bit too close to the edge. Closing the door behind him he walked in slowly, trying not to scare the person- her off, a flinch would have been enough for her to topple off. “Hey- get off from there.” He spat, wincing at his tone, really Draco Malfoy, use that tone with someone who is already at the edge, literally and metaphorically.

Flinching at the tone, her head whipped in his direction, what was he doing her? Bloodshot eyes meeting his, watching his expression morph into one that represented terror that is seen in the eyes of a lost child.

“Y/N”

“What…are you doing here?” she whispered, not moving an inch, standing still at her spot.

“I just wanted some fresh air and- get off, get off from there this instance, I- you-move!” stumbling over his words he moved closer to her, only to freeze when she turned back to look up at the sky, taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to savour the peace she had lost long ago.

“I’m so tired…I’m going to fix this once and for all, so leave.”

“WAIT!”

Sighing at his tone, she opened her eyes, staring ahead. “I’ve never liked the night, it’s dark, I’ve always been afraid of the dark. It’s so quiet you can hear the thoughts of your thoughts, do you know, the lake over there, you can’t go there at night. They have creature patrolling around it, and even if you do make it to the water, they have night watchers in the water. I tried it you know.” With an empty chuckle she pointed ahead, not that he was looking at it, he was far more bothered for her safety, slowly inching closer to her, “But I’ve yearned for it, the darkness, I realised long ago, that this was the only way, but those bloody fools pulled me to the surface before I could fully embrace the cold.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I am terribly sorry, I was wrong, it was wrong and selfish of me.” Whispering he stood a few steps away, “But I promise I’ll help you find the cure and then we can-“

“THIS IS THE CURE YOU FOOL!” turning around in rage, she almost lost her footing, somewhat glad she wouldn’t be facing her end like that, confrontation was never her strong suit, not was looking at the face of her problems, who knew the person who loved to fly across the skies was willing to fall down from grace within the same space.

Never in his life had he moved quicker, perhaps not even in the field, not while playing against Potter, not while running away from his fears, but for her, at that very moment, he realised he would face death itself, fight it with his bare fists, just to keep it away from her. For once he was glad his mind let his body run on autopilot, no argument, no debate or pondering about the pros or cons, but a quick flip of a switch had led him to grip her wrist, jerking her towards him, her body colliding on top of his. The persistent ringing in his ears slowly faded away, trying to rearrange his thoughts he slowly blinked up at the ceiling, his arms tightening around the shivering figure pressed into him, a hand pressed against the back of her head, forcing her to let it all out, pressing her face into his shoulder. He was unsure of wear he had picked up on this, never really one to receive comfort in such a physical manner, let alone provide it to someone else, but once again, she wasn’t just someone else. His other hand gently stroked her back, and slowly it began to piece together, the grills at her window, the disappointment of Cedric, this wasn’t just a one-time occurrence, how could he have missed the signs? He was reading her diary, but was so caught up in his own little emotions like a little school girl that he had not been able to take in the bigger picture, what she had assumed was the solution was not beneficial for her, but for others around her, her family. What kind of twisted lunatic would come up with such a solution? He understood the whole notion of being selfless, but this was not an act of selflessness, it was mere stupidity, why was she to suffer for the lack of tolerance and abundant ignorance her family possessed? Why was she being punished for being herself? Who were they to punish her for something she had no control over? At this point he wondered if the curse was her being a Hufflepuff or being born in a family of bigots.

“Draco?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you- I mean, can I- umm…”

“I’m still very upset with you.”

“I know but I-

“What.”

Lifting her head up she stared at him, eyes puffy and a nose as red as a cherry, cute- until she placed her hands on either side of his head, watching a faint blush spread across his face. “I know you like me, but skipping to third base isn’t my style.” With that she pressed herself against him ever so slightly, causing him to shift uncomfortably, slowly pushing her off until she way laying beside him, staring at the same spot on the ceiling with him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the first person I’ve met who says that but doesn’t let me di-

“Shut up.” Turning his head to glare out her he growled, “I swear upon my own life if you ever try to pull something like that again or even think of it, I’ll” pausing for a moment, trying to think of a threat, “…I’ll…do something.”

“I’m sure you will.” Following his movement she met his eyes, “thank you.” Their words slowly turning into hushed whispers, subconsciously moving closer to one another.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I umm…kind of found your diary.”

“…”

“I’m so sorry, I- I couldn’t help myself from reading it.”

Sighing she looked away, choosing to look back up at the ceiling once more, trying to hide her flushed face, clearing her throat, “It’s…okay.”

“In my defense, your expression of writing is beautiful.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“You’re phrasing and choice of words is immaculate.”

“Okay. We really don’t have to talk about it.”

“I have similar feelings towards you but I was unable to decipher them, but you, no the way you expressed it all-

“And we’re done for the night, thank you very much, I’d like you to” instantly sitting up she dusted off her robes, “return it to me tomorrow, like a good boy.” Eyes darting to his laying figure, noticing the smile that had graced his lips, not one of the small one’s she had seen before, no this was different. It was one of those boyish smiles, wide and cocky, you’d read about in teen romance novels, those sappy things you’d keep under your bed, one that had the girl’s heart leaping with joy, much like hers did at the sight.

“Or we could,” standing up, much taller than her he peered down at her curious gaze, “burn it together. Write something else, something new, something better.” His hand slowly reached for her face, fingers grazing over her warm cheek, trying to keep the urge of kissing her at bay, “What do you think?”

“I’d like that.” Her words but a whisper, too focused on watching him slowly lower to her level, hovering a mere breath above her face, the puffs of their breath mingling together, “Can I…” his eyes flickered to her lips then back at hers, waiting for her approval, one he’d thought she’d readily give him; he was Draco Malfoy after all and on top of that she did like him- as was proven in many pages of her diary.

“Earn it.”

“Thank- excuse me?” He squawked as she gently pushed him away, licking her lips, teasing him- he was sure of it, as she walked towards the door, turning to give him one last look before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“Earn it, Draco Malfoy, can’t write the climax before settling in with a few establishing chapters.”

Oh, he was in one hell of a ride.

A/N: Well, this took forever. Honestly, I wrote several chapters but nothing clicked, finally wrote something which seems decent enough. I hope you all like it- dw the next one is pure fluff.❤️ If you want to be part of my tag list please fill the form on the Navigation Post❤️ (I've tagged a few people who aren't tagged, so I'm not sure why this happened)

Taglist:

@buckyandgeraltsupremacy

@spphrj

@jensfraise

@dramatic-long-coats

@m00nie-m00

@iellasgrave

@danywonderland

@whiterain1997

@writerwriteswriting

@hearmyharmony

@ruethemazerunner

@missstratford

[stxrvel]

the outbreak: extra (1.5)

summary: you had a word with bucky on your way to your last mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +2.5k

warnings: some bad words and slight angst.

note: hey! this wasn't planned but i wanted to add something else to the story that was surely missing. i hadn't thought about the self destructive behaviors we normalize in our daily lives and sometimes that is reflected in what we write. this conversation was something i had envisioned but hadn't seen possible, but i decided to finish it and post it after a whole day of reflection. this talk was perhaps VERY specific, but i've had conversations like this with my friends, so i hope you understand what i am trying to visualize. you can read it before or after part 2! the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

part 1

Clint was extremely quiet and curiously attentive. As you prepared everything to enter the Quinjet, you shared a silent moment that was uncharacteristic of him. Generally, he would begin a pleasant and seemingly normal chat, until he would start jabbing at you with his off-hand comments and jokes about anything that came to mind.

The Clint Barton who was with you in the armory room was not your typical Clint. You began to wonder what would have happened to keep him so quiet when you saw out of the corner of your eye that Bucky entered the room.

He hadn't been able to convince Fury to send Steve in his place on the mission, and during that week you had seen him only once, about twenty yards away. You wanted to pretend (as usual) that things hadn't broken down between the two of you. That that argument had never happened and that Bucky had never found out about the real thoughts going around in your head. That everything was just running its normal course and you still considered yourselves co-workers, at least.

But it was just you playing pretend.

Bucky walked past you, grabbed the weapons he needed, the razors and knives he handled so well, a couple of grenades that he carefully stowed in the loop of his suitcase and headed for the exit without a single glance at anyone.

Clint had his back to you, but you could feel his body tense, so still you could barely tell he was breathing, as if moving between you would set off a bomb or something.

“The Quinjet is ready,” Bucky exclaimed as he stopped in front of the door. “Don't be long.”

And he got out without further ado.

The mood didn't change later, when Bucky was piloting the Quinjet having a chance to leave it on automatic and Clint was sitting with you in the back of the ship, as far away from you as possible. You watched his figure in front of you and how he sent you wary glances from time to time. The situation was becoming tedious.

You knew you were pretending not to know what was going on. You were pretending that no one felt the tension that formed when you and Bucky were in the same room, mostly being emitted from your body because the man was like a big ice cube. It was the indifference you had seen so much of him direct at other people, especially those he didn't trust, and you never thought it would be directed at you. It hurt more than you could imagine.

So for that reason you preferred to just keep the image in your head of everything that had happened before that fateful day. Maybe your mind thought it would be easier to deal with the rejection that way, because you did know it would happen, and it had taken time for the moment to arrive, but when it finally had it swept in and took everything with it, leaving you just taking it all in in the deep silence.

When the Quinjet came to a stop at its destination, Bucky walked back between you and Clint to head for the rear ramp of the ship. He quietly grabbed his things and stepped out.

Clint had moved to unbuckle his seat belt when you felt the need to ask the question. You moved to mimic the man in front of you.

“Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” Clint turned to look at you in confusion, his brow furrowed, when he had fully risen.

You watched his figure begin to move toward the front of the Quinjet and felt everything inside you strangely stir.

“As if you were afraid someone would suddenly start burning up next to you.”

“Not true.”

You turned to look at the man with an ingrown eyebrow, and Clint only gave you a look of complete naivety as he sat down in front of the ship's controls. You walked over to where you had left your backpack and began putting away the few things you were going to need.

“You're too tense.”

Clint clicked his tongue. His body slumped over the big chair and he shifted his feet on the floor until he was facing you.

“It's just… being around you two is too uncomfortable. In and of itself just seeing Bucky these past few days is scary.”

You frowned as you moved your hands inside your backpack. You picked up one of the pocketknives Natasha had given you, with rose embroidery on the black handle. You saw out of the corner of your eye the pistol you had been given as equipment to use in case of emergencies, and you hesitated whether or not to take it.

“Why is it uncomfortable?”

You heard the man let out a laugh before answering. “Are you kidding me? The atmosphere is so tense that I could jump in the air and get caught in an invisible mesh.”

“Of course not. There's no discomfort at all. We're fine,” you repeated your mantra with an assurance that surprised you.

You took the gun in your hands after observing it for several minutes and felt its weight between your fingers, as if telling a story you didn't want to know. Will you carry it with you or…?

“You seem to have repeated that to yourself too many times to believe it. Cute.”

“It is what it is.”

Clint sighed and watched you carefully. Your gaze on the gun did not allow you to see him examine your figure for a while, and you barely noticed the silence that formed between the two of you. Clint, then, remembered something.

“Do you really think no one heard the argument you two had last week?”

You raised your head. You went blank. You let the gun drop into the backpack again and furrowed your brow, followed by closing it and putting it back where you had initially left it. You watched Clint warily, his serious face giving you to understand that he wasn't playing with you.

“The walls aren't that thick.”

You couldn't help but simply not answer him for several seconds because what were you going to say to him? You couldn't go back to saying that everything was fine between you and Bucky because clearly everyone now knew you had something and that an angry Bucky doesn't listen to any excuses and is unkind in that state.

That explained a lot about the sneaky looks you sometimes felt when you walked around the Complex and the therapist's card Steve had accidentally left at the foot of your bedroom door.

You saw Clint again with the face of someone caught red-handed, and at the same time you felt vulnerable because under no circumstances would that possibility have crossed your mind.

Would Bucky even know?

“Can you pretend with me?”

The man sighed, but seeing your agonized expression he agreed.

And then you had to go out to meet Bucky.

You had landed about a kilometer from the distance of the target, which was a small house in an abandoned industrial town. With the information gathered, you had been able to learn the nearest location of the target within some of the houses that were within a fifty meter radius from the center of the town. Clint, already in charge of the Quinjet, would leave to supervise from the height that everything was in order, and give air support if necessary.

Bucky was a few meters away from the Quinjet, his things arranged in their respective places and with his binoculars he observed the town from his position.

“It looks desolate,” you couldn't help but comment to break the choking silence.

The man hummed in response a nod and lowered the binoculars to pass them to you without turning to look at you.

“Look east from the center. It's the only house that has light.”

You took the object he offered you careful not to brush against his skin, and promptly used them to peer into the distance. In the center of the village there was a fountain that served as a traffic circle to connect the main roads. Looking to the east, even though it was daylight, you could notice electricity highlighting one of the houses.

“It could be the target.”

“Or a trap.”

You lowered the binoculars.

“Do you have to be so gloomy?”

Bucky gave you the first look of the day. His eyes were not rough and his expression was not coarse like the few times you had seen him before, he seemed a little calmer than before, but you tried not to raise your hopes thinking that clearly the man had to maintain professionalism during the mission. And you had to do the same. Starting by stopping over-analyzing him.

He looked like he wanted to answer you, or say something else, but he just turned around and started walking towards the path that led to the village.

You definitely wanted to say something, even though you also wanted to remain professional, because you didn't want to spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes in stony silence and with your thoughts being the only thing that answered the questions in your head.

Instinctively, you kept thinking that you still had that kind of relationship with Bucky. Like you'd ask him a question about anything and he'd answer trivially and then you'd tell him something super curious about the sky and the trees and he'd listen like he was being told the truths of the universe.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Why did everything have to have been complicated like this?

You walked through the dry grass and stones, enduring the silence for several minutes. Every time you looked up to see the town, you felt it receding instead of coming closer. Bucky's body in front of you moved easily through the grass, almost as if he were levitating through nature.

Again, you felt that itch in your mouth with the urge to say something to fill the silence, but your mind suppressed your body's instincts. You hated it when routines disappeared, especially when they involved people who were important to you. You didn't like the sense of loss that came with the truth and that you had thought that by that point you would be more than used to it, but it seemed you had only fooled yourself.

You did it before and you were doing it then. Some things just wouldn't change.

You were seriously thinking about starting to talk to the trees when you heard his voice:

“I'm sorry.”

What?

“What?”

Bucky sighed, and after a few seconds you thought he wouldn't speak again and that he had only, unlike you, let his impulses win the battle, until you heard him again:

“I regret how I acted the last time we spoke.”

His words left you perplexed. You had expected anything less than to start a conversation about it, especially to apologize.

You frowned, not knowing exactly what to say. You weren't used to people showing that kind of remorse after walking away from your life. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, and feared the direction the conversation would take.

“Well, you had your reasons for being angry…”

“Yes, I had reasons to be angry, but all I did when you gave me the truth was walk away. That wasn't the right thing to do.”

“Well, what else were you going to do? If you stayed and hugged me you weren't going to solve anything. It's okay, Bucky, it's not like I was expecting you to do anything different.”

The man stopped his steps, and you would have collided with his back had you not been a safe distance away, your legs trying to match his stride, but failing miserably.

You saw his body turn in your direction with a puzzled expression. You tried to hide in the back of your mind the voice that constantly reminded you not to talk about those subjects. You didn't want to evoke those sensations that kept you religiously away from your feelings, the defensive actions of your own head trying to keep the boat of your sanity afloat. You didn't want Bucky to keep harping on the subject, but you knew he would.

“Are you saying that-?”

Bucky shut his mouth. Before he finished speaking, he pursed his lips into a line and took a deep breath. You could glimpse that he was dealing with his own thoughts at that moment.

“It's not normal, Y/N, nor good for a person to leave you like I did after telling you something with so much meaning to you. And also, that it took me this long to bring it up...”

You hummed in response. He was telling you the same thing that many other people had told you throughout your life, but you didn't know why his were causing your body to react differently. It was like having your chest spread out like the wings of a butterfly. It was such a strange sensation, so foreign to you that you were unconsciously afraid of it. You didn't want to feel it. You wanted it to go away.

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I was an unconscious idiot. That's why.”

The man resumed his march as he finished speaking, and you had to wiggle quickly to keep up with him. You felt your head moving a thousand miles, as if it could travel a hundred times back and forth the village road without stopping for air once. You couldn't find a way out of the conversation, so you tried to beat around the bush.

“But aren't you a little hard on yourself? You're going to therapy, aren't you? You have things to deal with, too.”

“Maybe you're used to people leaving you, but that doesn't mean it's okay.”

You furrowed your brow, almost stopping your steps and watching his back. It wasn't okay for people to leave you? You'd lost count of all the times you'd asked yourself that question since you'd had the conscience to do it. You didn't want to think that the world was cruel to you, that people were mean to you, but that the world and people didn't have to deal with the shit you carried around.

The words died in your mouth when Bucky stopped again and that time you almost crashed into him.

“I didn't mean it that way. The truth is, people suck, and there will be plenty of fuckers who decide to leave rather than stay and help you grow. Maybe you met a lot of them and started to see them as normal, but that's not the case. That's not usual, much less with someone you consider your friend.”

“Friend?”

Bucky nodded in response.

“As in appreciation and respect?”

“Yes, you couldn't have defined it better.”

You saw him look away, suddenly sinking into his thoughts before resuming his march on his way into town. You followed him, that time more closely thankful that he was no longer jogging like he was in a marathon. There was a contradiction of emotions in your chest and in your head. There was a part of you that liked what Bucky said, that actually rejoiced in his response and appreciated his sincere apology; but there was another part of you that continued to disown his tokens of appreciation, that didn't want him to see you from above as if you were a little ant he could step on with his shoes.

That part of you that wanted to believe his words clashed with the part of you that didn't want to be vulnerable again.

“I was supposed to be that for you. Then I pushed you too hard, didn't know how to talk things out and also didn't know how to deal with the response I got. I was too angry, but that shouldn't have been a justification.”

“You wouldn't have gotten the information out of me any other way, you know that?”

“I don't think so.”

“You would never have gotten it. If you had stopped, I would have put up walls to keep you from ever coming near me again.”

You meant what you said, and Bucky knew you did. Suddenly, you felt as if in that moment you could deploy the walls to stop him from talking.

“I'm not justifying anything I did, Y/N, I also don't want to say that's how it was supposed to happen because I'm sure I would have found another way. If I hadn't let my emotions win…”

“Can we just let it be? I already know you're sorry and I told you everything was okay.”

“But nothing is okay.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, you're trying to avoid the subject.”

You snorted loudly. You hate it. You didn't want to be rude to him, but you were reaching a limit you could barely tolerate when dealing with such topics.

“Can you blame me? I feel like I've already exhausted all the feelings talk I could possibly have in a year.”

“It's not wrong to talk about these things…”

“And, still, I'd rather not.”

Suddenly, it was like having a rush of adrenaline running through your body. You started to move your legs quickly, and surprisingly you were able to overtake Bucky and start walking ahead of him. Although you looked as if you were not too affected by Bucky being this insistent with your feelings, you actually had your heart beating at an impressive speed. Your chest contracted with every breath and you felt a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly it seemed that the temperature had dropped drastically and your hands were breaking out in a cold sweat. A shiver ran through your body and you felt fear at the possibility of Bucky bringing up that subject again.

“You should consider seeing Dr. Green.”

You stopped your steps. You watched Bucky walk toward you and not stop as you asked him, "How do you know about that? Did Steve tell you about the stupid card?"

The man gave you a sidelong glance.

“I gave it to him.” 

[intheholler]

Hi, sorry if this is a weird message but I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your blog.

I've never been to the appalachia region but I was born in Mississippi and only lived there for like 3 years before we moved. My mom was a travel nurse so we moved every year or two and I really loved living like that and being able to live in tons of different places but part of me is really upset that I never really belonged to a specific place.

When I was younger, I was thankful for not growing up in the south. I always heard other people talk about it, how it was nothing but inbred hillbillies and how everyone talked in a weird drawl and I was glad I never picked up the accent.

But now I'm so, so upset about it. I have a very slight accent sometimes and say y'all and ain't a lot but it's definitely not recognizable as a southern accent.

I want to sound like that, but it feels wrong to try and talk with that accent now, because my family doesn't sound like that and I don't live in the south anymore. Even though I was born there, it still feels like I'm not from there, you know? Like I would be stealing something that's not mine.

It just sucks. Especially when I hear people constantly talk shit about the south and how everyone there is stupid and ugly and racist and evil and it's like, ''Oh. Maybe if I lived there a few more years they would hate me like that too."

A lot of time I see people talking about how much it sucks to grow up in a certain culture, but I never see people talk about how much it sucks to grow up without a specific culture(s).

The worst thing is when people ask where I'm from or where I grew up, and I don't know what I'm supposed to say.

So thank you for your blog. I know the south and appalachia are different, with different cultures and climates and people, but it still makes me feel like I can experience something I never got to.

hi there. this is not weird at ALL.

its a topic very near to my heart really. thanks so much for sharing your story not only because it's yours and i want to know it, but because it resonates with me SO hard, and i don't really talk to anyone who was constantly on the move as a kid and questions their identity because of it.

long post below, as is usually the case with me and this subject.

first i wanna say: i agree that the deep south and appalachia are certainly unique from one another, but to me, they share more similarities than they do differences. your story only cements that in my mind.

we have similar politics, are embarrassed by similar stereotypes, have shameful collective histories. we have similar flavors of self-work and unlearning to do. even the accents overlap.

we also know the same struggle of trying to be louder than our region, how it feels to have our individual voices swallowed up by people who don't want to hear it because they've already decided what they think about us as if we are some monolith.

what i mean is you definitely belong in this community, and i'm so glad you are here!

now for the emotional bits: i hate making these sorts of asks about me, but i sometimes feel at a loss as how else to communicate my empathy in this specific situation.

i just hope my experience can extend a sense of solidarity and understanding to how you're feeling, as mine mirrors your own very closely. i can seriously like feel the pain radiating off of this ask and i just want you to feel seen and heard.

"The worst thing is when people ask where I'm from or where I grew up, and I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

this kicked me in the stomach, because same. it's why being "from appalachia" is so integral to my identity. i'm not from a town or even a state. all i have is the region.

i've talked about this before on here, but my dad was a contractor, and we moved every year or two as well. the longest i stayed in one town was three years, and it happened only once.

i agree that moving around a lot was good in some ways, but, like you, it left me without a sense of belonging.

looking back as an adult, i realize how badly all of that moving fucked me up. i don't have a hometown in the traditional sense. i'm not "from" anywhere.

a lot of my childhood belongings i no longer have because everything seemed to get lost in the moves. i feel like i am scattered across a region, and i am nowhere.

its so bad that, as silly as it is, i get irrationally upset at something as innocent as when i am with someone who has lived in a place most of their life, and they can easily give directions there because they know the place so well. i can't do that with anywhere and so i feel bitter.

i myself moved around consistently in appalachia/the south, though, so i still grew up in the area, as generally as one could. so i also spent most of my late childhood and preteen yearsgetting rid of the accent. i didn't want to sound "stupid" or be lumped in with the racists and the stereotypes of the region.

i thought it made me better than other kids who spoke with the accent, because back then, i hadn't started the self-work i have since undergone and ripped all that hateful internalized bullshit up.

i regret it every day now that i'm learning to love where i'm from--appalachia and the south as a region. i regret ever buying into what i was told about myself and getting rid of all markers of it.

i get it, anon. i really do and i love you and i'm sorry.

THIS IS ALL TO SAY VERY VERY LOUDLY:

you. are. from. there.

you were born in the south. you was raised by a presumably southern family. even if you wasn't, they had to take pieces of mississippi with them. culture is not a static thing--it goes where you go.

you can't steal what's already yours. the accent is yours to use. it feels awkward in your mouth when you try to get it back but that's just because it needs to get comfortable in there again. it doesn't mean you're faking or stealing. it means you are reconnecting, and reunions can sometimes be a little awkward.

don't hold yourself up to rigid standards or fall victim to any gatekeeping, outward or inward. only you get to define who you are, and it seems like you know who that is supposed to be.

i hope you can start to feel a little more at home in your identity. i know what a special hell it is. thank you so so much for being here <3333

[chaoss-incarnate]

i don't think I've ever seen anyone talking about this but all i can think about since finishing the goldfinch is how theodore decker never truly left new york.

okay so we have 13 year old theo, whose mother just died in the museum, living at the barbour's, and meeting hobie and seeing pippa again. this much is obvious, he's still living in new york, wandering the streets and places where he and his mother frequented, being a shadow of his previous life. at night he dreams of the museum, and wakes up screaming.

his father appears, takes him to vegas. and despite meeting boris and doing all sorts of things with him (drinking, drugs, you name it), he's still 14 year old theo believing his mother is waiting for him back home. he wakes up from the museum more often than not, but i believe this is also when his dreams take a different turn; back in new york, places he would go with his mother, knowing she was there but never seeing her, never being in the same place as her. he longs for her, longs for his old life, believes her death was his fault. he tries to distract himself. like boris says: 'i drink to be happy, but you wanted to die'. boris, who has lived in so many countries, always moving, and theo, with his longing to return to the place he knows.

and then his dad dies and he goes back to new york. 15 year old theo is back in his home city, around the places he knows. places he was with his mother. and of course he goes to hobie's. what else can he do? he goes to college, learns the furniture dealer's way, and for the next eight years he lives in new york, working, wandering the streets. his longing for his childhood with his mother has subdued, mostly, thanks to the controlled (as he believes) substance abuse. he gets engaged to none other than kitsey barbour, and he continues to live his life. he takes her to places he went with his mother, places she never appreciated ('the dingbat'). he continues to love pippa (though, as we all know, that love wasn't healthy - it wasn't really love. he appreciates pippa, her friendship, but he latched on to her because they both share the same trauma and he believes no one will understand him better than she, now that his mother is gone. as the narrator in fight club says: 'you met me at a very strange time in my life.')

the boris appears. he's there and it turns out that he stole the painting. because the painting had followed theo since he was 13, going wherever he went. and now? its halfway across the world. and so now theo follows the painting, all the way to amsterdam.

new york used to be called new amsterdam until the english took over the dutch that lived there and renamed it new york. coincidence that theo ended up in the former namesake of the city he can never escape? the country where fabritius, the painter, was from. it would make sense for the painting to maybe be in delft, the place where it was discovered, where fabritius died, to make it a full circle, but no. amsterdam.

there, theo saw his mother again. he actually saw her. halfway across the world and yet he's somehow still in new york. with her.

the end of the novel is very open. theo travels, of course, to rectify the false furniture he sold, but everything ties him back to new york. his engagement to kitsey isn't over, the barbours expect him to return, someday. he still works with hobie.

'but vivian,' you might think, 'what about pippa? she went through the same thing theo did and yet she spends most of her time out of new york.'

the truth is that we don't know much about pippa. she wasn't present during most of the novel, mostly in theo's mind. we know some things about her: her parentage, music she likes and so on, but we barely know how the explosion affected her.

as she remarks in her letter at the end, she and theo would be bad for each other due to their extreme similarities. she has difficulties because of the explosion. she goes to texas, then switzerland, then london, then california. she can't seem to stay in new york, but she's there a lot of course, hobie's there, and so is theo.

i believe that in this, pippa and theo are opposites: theo, no matter what he does, is always in new york, always returning. somehow he wants to be there, for the memories of his mother. he wants to walk those streets and go to those places they went to together. its painful for him but he'd rather that than be somewhere new. pippa, on the other hand, leaves voluntarily. a lot. of course she wishes to be close to hobie, but she just can't stand to be in new york for the same reason theo stays. pippa walks the streets of new york and thinks 'welty used to take me here, and here' and its unbearable for her.

even so, most nights they both return to the same point, and they both know they'll never leave it, or rather, it'll never leave them.

[queenburd]

SLAMS OPEN YOUR DOOR please share the stuff you are hiding behind your back (only if you wish to share ofc smiles

sighs and pulls my papers out from behind my back and spreads them across the table

so here's the thing. it's not so much that the settings person/employee 432 and the narrator have a lot in common, that's to me, a debatable point. it's.... complicated. but they have a lot of PARALLELS and features that come from the same place.

but, to me, they play different roles. they have to. because one of these individuals is someone who has accepted and embraced and fallen into their role (settings person) and the other is in full denial about his role and pretends he has more power than he does and, on a subconscious level, wants freedom he can't have (the narrator).

sorry this is all over the place so Im going to go back to where everything always starts and it is The Parable, the Game Itself, as a living thing that has wants and drives. The end is never the end, because it loops and loops, so that you can keep playing, and the wheel keeps turning. (Ive compared the Parable to a haunted house. I've compared it to the House from The Haunting of Hill House.)

It has its own rules, and its own physics, and I can't say it's sentient but it steps in when the Narrator tries to change too much. For the game to work, for the Parable to function, it needs you to play, and you play to hear the Narrator talk, and he's funnier when he's mad, and he only ever wants the Story, so you disobey and go off the Story and you are, in essence, playing the game. Get the dialogue. Find the secrets. Be In Conflict With The Other Person, because games have winners, which means there are losers, which means competition, and defeat, and Conflict.

So the cycle is You (or Stanley) Vs Narrator, trying to gain the upper hand, and this turns the wheel. This makes the game repeat. The end is never the end.

But the thing is we can't argue that that's what the Narrator wants. He THINKS he wants it, but his assumptions are based off fallacies that he made the game (we're gonna come back to this) and the second he starts to not care about the Story (confusion ending) and BOND with the player/Stanley, the Parable steps in and wipes the slate clean.

That's not a being in control! That's a person who has to be manipulated repeatedly and forced into being a specific way for the machine to work. (there are arguments to be made here that this is like employee 432. that's extremely true. I PROMISE we will get to Settings/432) I think about the Curator's speech a lot, and I think about the Demo a lot, and the confusion ending and. gestures.

The Narrator has SOME control over the Parable, but only so long as he acts in line with what it wants, and it's not hesitant to put him through suffering if he pushes against it.

(and I can and have talked about his own fears, and how not progressing feels safe for him, how he's stuck in the past and the player/Stanley is the force that drives things forward, and that back and forth is what moves the Parable and makes it loop, but I am already SO off topic Im so sorry)

The Settings Person, I think, has more power over the game mechanics than the Narrator does (achievement machine, always with you even in the pause screen, stuff like that), because it wants what the Parable wants. The Stanley Parable cannot end. I must keep the wheel turning. It's not a prisoner, it's a warden. And it makes you/Stanley complicit in pulling the Narrator back to the game when he's supposedly "escaped", because, again, Conflict Drives The Game.

They get their abilities from the same place but one of these individuals is dogmatic in its belief of the Parable and the other is only obeying the Parable because he thinks he has to and has been manipulated and forced into compliance.

And, okay, maybe that's a bit of an overstatement, right? After all, the Narrator made the game, didn't he? And 432 was just a character in the mind control facility in the game lore.

Incorrect buzzer, but like, quieter so it's less annoying and condescending.

None of that's real. Crowsx3 made the game. This is a game about meta and it's not so far of a stretch to detach yourself from the "game lore" and look at the game from outside, while also trying to meet it on its own level.

The Narrator didn't make the game, but so long as he thinks so, and as long as he thinks he has power, he'll fight with Stanley for control. As long as he abides by the made up backstory, then the Parable succeeds.

Then there's the Settings person who knows this is a game, and that they are just part of it. The fact that this character has "lore" has no impact on its work now. It's flavor. It's for fun. the character knows that.

are there similarities? absolutely. But those similarities will always stem from the same place: whether their intent and interests are in alignment with the Parable's itself.

Settings Person will ALWAYS align with the Parable. The Narrator will not.

And That's My Take.

[sevlawless]

dead apple's discography: 1/?

review taken from their local newspaper:

Dead Apple's debut EP 'Running Out of Time' has hit all streaming platforms, and despite the title, they are doing anything but. Their punk rock influences shine throughout, as well as co-lead singer Arabella Aveiro's love for Fiona Apple, partially to credit for their band name. The band consists of its other lead singer, Seven Duckstein, guitarist Rowan Hart, bassist Devyn Powell, drummer Jazzy Dawson, and Iris De Luca on the keys. Each track has a emotional tie in to at least one person in the group, making the five tracks feel as though you're experiencing their lives yourselves.

When the current 11th graders of our own Green Meadow High were asked about this, Aveiro simply said:

"We want to make music that people can relate to. I think it’s more rewarding when you create something that you love, and that other people can love as well. Making these songs with my friends has been so fun, and we can't wait to make more music together."

For everyone's sakes, let's hope this band never runs out of time.

cover and songs breakdown under the cut <3

the cover was taken by seven when the whole gang went to the city. devyn had just got her license and her parents let them take the minivan to fit everyone LMFAO and arabella stuck her head out the window on the drive home. earlier versions of the ep had seven on the back cover doing the same pose (arabella had taken that photo in return <3), but after the breakup any physical copies printed had the same picture on the front but blurred.

where the heart is

written by: jazzy and seven

the drums on this song YOU KNOW jazzy had a hand in this! she wanted to write a song for the ep and was kinda struggling but seven helped her out :) so this is one of their many co-written songs together <3 this being the opener is so fitting for me because of lines like "6:30 alarm, brush my teeth, and start the car" and "it's time to go home again, that's so boring"

starting off at 6:30 am, early in the morning, starting off this ep with this song just feels fitting to me! and the whole "i hate my town" rite of passage most punk rock bands go through!

favorite lyrics:

"all in all, i've always had the same thoughts riling up my heart // and all in all, i haven't changed a single thing to feel differently"

"my mind's been in a million places, but my body hasn't moved an inch"

"if i could just take a chance, i wouldn't feel so bad // to see past myself, i wouldn't feel so bad"

baby tonight

written by: devyn, arabella

this is just an iris and devyn love song im afraid! i have this VIVID headcanon of devyn coming up to arabella and being like "i wrote some lyrics for a song about iris can you help me out" and arabella IMMEDIATELY being on board! i imagine devyn inviting iris over to her house and the whole band already being there in the garage ready to play this song for her :) it's such a cute lil moment and i like to think whenever they have a gig on or around iris' birthday or their anniversary they play this song! they put this on their first ep because they love devyn and iris and SO DO I!

favorite lyrics:

"she's a diamond in my fucked up world // prettier than the pearls that lay around on her neck // she makes me so fucking SICK!"

"so baby won't you take my life? or maybe you could crush my soul?"

red with love

written by: seven

unrequited love is really something else huh LMFAO i like to think that seven wrote this after him and arabella went to a party and played spin the bottle which resulting in them kissing for the first time (which later on when they're dating arabella doesn't count it as their first kiss because her eyes were open and the kiss was horrendously bad because that's her BEST FRIEND and she CANNOT have feelings for her BEST FRIEND-)

anyways ! i think seven started developing some sort of feelings for arabella after that and this song is the product of a late night writing session on his roof. when he shows it to the band they're like "who the HELL is this about" and arabella just looks at him like she knows and is immediately just like "let's practice it right now!" much to seven's relief.

when they're dating though and they perform this song together i like to think that after the line "you kiss me so sweetly, it gets me high" arabella ALWAYS without fail would kiss seven on the cheek :)

they stop performing this song when seven leaves the band.

favorite lyrics:

"the sunlight through my windowpane illuminates your face // i need you closer and you're not even an inch away"

"when you come home, you call my name // believe me when i say // tomorrow i will love you more than i did yesterday"

"i can't seem to get enough // it makes me sweat, you’re in my head // it turns me red with love"

sleep to dream

written by: arabella, iris

this bitch loves fiona apple idk what to tell you. i imagine that during high school arabella dated the WORST people but that just fueled her writing so she wrote this after one particularly bad boyfriend. iris also helped with the piano composition! i fear these breakup songs will become a pattern for arabella in later works LMFAO

favorite lyrics:

"i tell you how you feel, but you don't care // i say tell me the truth, but you don't dare // you say love is a hell you cannot bare // and i say gimme mine back and then go there, for all i care"

"this mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways // so don't forget what i told you // don't come around, i got my own hell to raise"

where the lines overlap

written by: arabella, rowan

just the first of MANY certified rowanbella classics! rowan came up with the basic chords and arabella wrote the lyrics. this song is just them basically saying we're so happy to be in this band with our friends and we hope that never ever changes and it WON'T… right?

anywayyyy.. this song is an absolute crowd favorite and whenever they play a gig they always play this one last :)

favorite lyrics:

"no one is as lucky as us, we're not at the end but oh, we already won"

"now i've got a feeling if i sang this loud enough, you would sing it back to me"

[reclusivebookslug]

Bella Swan is Autistic: An Analysis

(Disclaimers: I enjoy Twilight in spite of its problematic elements, not because of them or in ignorance of them. There are as many different ways to be autistic as there are autistic people. Many allistic people will relate on some level to some aspects of the autistic experience; this does not make them autistic. This is all just my opinion, based on my experience as a late-diagnosed, low-support-needs autistic woman. I am aware this is not a brand-new original idea.)

I reread Twilight (I think for the first time since getting diagnosed 4 years ago) and I found a bunch of things I relate to Bella about. Below the cut is a list of some of her autism-related character traits with quotes for textual evidence. The links lead to articles explaining how these traits relate to autism. The list is ordered chronologically based on page number of the accompanied quotes. Page numbers are based on the paperback edition with ISBN-13: 9780316015844. A backslash in a quote signifies a paragraph break. I’ll update if I read any of the other books or rewatch the movies and anything new comes up.

Bella has trouble regulating her emotional expressions: she has to put conscious effort into how she presents herself

"I'd always been a bad liar" (p. 4). "For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency" (p. 25). "I had never been enormously tactful" (p. 31). "'My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book'" (p. 50).

Bella is shy and a bit socially awkward: she avoids attention for fear of embarrassment

"Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him" (p. 7). "Mr. Varner... was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat" (p. 17). "To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week" (pp. 68-69).

Bella feels different from other people: she doesn’t know how to connect with others and feels pressure to fit in

"I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain" (pp. 10-11). "I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else" (p. 47). “'My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?' The words bothered me more than they should -- probably because his speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed" (p. 181).

Bella has a unique sense of humor: other people don’t get her jokes and she doesn’t get other peoples’ jokes

"'You don't look very tan.' / 'My mother is part albino.' / He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm" (p. 16). “Bella was being unintentionally funny” (p. 367).

Bella finds comfort in routine: the change in routine from moving was difficult for her, and she felt better once the new routine became familiar

"I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly" (p. 33).

Bella is academically gifted: she finds assignments easier than her peers do, she has already read the books assigned in her English course

"'Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?' / 'Yes'" (p. 47).

Bella enjoys being alone: she is introverted and enjoys solitary activities

"In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely" (p. 54). "I've never minded being alone" (p. 241).

Bella has motor difficulties: she is clumsy, uncoordinated, accident-prone, and bad at sports

"Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress" (p. 55). "My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings" (p. 136).

Bella has special interests: Edward and books

"... no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did" (p. 69). "I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me" (p. 135)? "... they didn't know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something that I preferred to do alone" (p. 156).

Bella is perceived as different by others: a history of social exclusion is hinted at, Edward’s mind-reading doesn’t work on her

"'It's better if we're not friends,' he explained. 'Trust me.' / My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that before” (pp. 74-75). "He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped" (p. 83). "'My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year'" (p. 106). ".'.. maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM'” (p. 181). "'You're not like anyone I've ever known. ... / ... 'I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you ... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise'" (p. 245).

Bella has sensory differences: she notices and is bothered by things others don’t and aren’t, she engages in sensory-seeking and sensory-avoiding behavior when stressed

"'People can't smell blood,' he contradicted. / 'Well, I can -- that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust ... and salt" (p. 100). "I put in my headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top of my face" (pp. 129-130). "'You're always crabbier when your eyes are black ... I expect it then' ... 'I have a theory about that'" (p. 171). “For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking” (p. 425).

[sugar-omi]

okay, so i've been doing some thinking. i've been scrolling through your blog and i stepped upon these "cheating on cove with Baxter and the other way around" scenarios. (i'm sorry, i wasn't able to read them, my heart couldn't take it ;-;) but!

what if mc was like, in a normal relationship with Baxter. you know, a couple, maybe married later and stuff, while of course still being besties with Cove. later mc and Baxter have a kid together, maybe still a small baby but! plot twist! Baxter gets into an accident or something and dies. (i'm sorry, he's my favourite man but i had to kill him for that scenario:'))

mc is completely devastated and also a little panicked, because what about the baby? and then Cove stepps in, deciding to help his best friend take care of the little one and basically becomes its father. i recently watched a video of a dog "helping" a cat take care of her kittens, and there you have it.

this one may be boring, so feel free to ignore, but i can't stop thinking about it.

ITS OK<333 I figured some ppl didn't read it bc angst n pain</3 trust me I skip over angst all the time

(I even have the tag blocked😬 sorry angst writers but I will read it and not be the same for months, I read a kiribaku angst fic years ago, and was devesated for 4 months afterwards LMAO)

okay i... I cannot expand too much on this bc OUCH

(eta now that I've finished. who am I fooling? I rlly said that like I haven't wrote a whole novel 💀 anyway <3 this clearly made me pop off more than I thought I would bc I read this at first n was devastated!!! I had no words!!!! well clearly I found them LOL)

ALSO BORING??? ANON PLEASE.. BORING WHERE<///3

n im gonna fix the format later but for now here is the bare minimum. I'm going to bed rn so nini everyone enjoy a bit of angst I promise its fluffy as well<333

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

p/n = parental name, since I wanted to leave flexibility for all the readers here <3

but anyway yeah cove would so step up for you

will follow you to the end of the earth and do whatever you need to help you work through this and to adapt to this sudden and unfortunate change

if/when your relationship starts becoming something romantic, cove would absolutely put the brakes on everything and you'd go so slow...

I imagine he'd probably move in with you or you with him, and he'd stay somewhere else (if you're living in his house he will leave anyway, he's a gentleman like that fr) so that way you can figure out if it's not just bc he's doing all these things n you're mistaking admiration for love

you'd spend the first year going super slow, as if you've never known each other before

which technically you haven't, since you've never dated before. but cove would go so far as to find out your favorite color, song, animal, food.. all over again, even though he has it memorized and knows your likes better than his own.

once cove is sure you're ready for this (after much talk between the two of you and even with your therapist that yes you've made enough progress and are emotionally ready for this) does he finally put a label on it

now if you get married...

I imagine cove won't propose at all

like I think you'd have to talk n almost beg him...

in that case he would do a small but grande gesture to propose. or he'd propose to you before you've even left the bed for the day... no inbetween

but like 8 times outta 10, you're gonna have to propose to him

he'd cry and hug you n say yes of course.

and unless you want to keep this outta your wedding, I think cove would include baxter in your wedding.

first, ofc you'd have the picture to honor his memory

but I think he'd even go so far as to have smth in his vows. but to start, he'd say smth like:

"I know the reason we became closer was unfortunate, but I'm so happy to be able to call you and [Child] my family. and I hope I can be a good father and husband"

and "baxter will always have a place in our hearts. even though he and I didn't get along at first (watery chuckle)... I'm glad he got to love you, and I hope he trusts me to love and cherish you the same way as well.."

also if you don't want to give up your wedding ring from baxter, I think cove would even go so far as to suggest combining it with his.

!!! omg I was gonna say your and baxter's wedding bands would be black, but I have another idea

okay now, for YOUR bands, I imagine they're either black or silver and yk those infinity(?) bands? that has the 2 types of metal or whatever

that's what cove would suggest doing. and if you are worried abt people asking why your bands are different, he'd get the same twisted band but silver with say a black diamond or smth. just smth to make it look like it's intentionally different colors but same design or smth

(im overthinking a bit but it's an idea right?! I'm not crazy??<////3)

or if you don't wanna do that, I imagine you can just slip it on a necklace or leave it as is, whatever you want. he wouldn't mind even if you kept wearing it, cove would never ask you to get rid of baxter's image or memory in any way, not unless it was a real problem and your attachment to him/his things was unhealthy anyway.

now for baxter's band... well if you didn't bury it with him, I imagine you'd give it to your child

another thing I think you could do w your wedding band as well, and give them both your bands to do whatever they want with. or if they don't want it of course you're not forcing them to keep it

even though they didn't get to know baxter, the way you and cove still cherish baxter's memory does help them feel something of a connection.

I also imagine baxter would take lots of photo n video w the kid, even though they're young n just a babe, theres so many videos of baxter looking n acting so loving w them

and even a couple where he's teary-eyed n all "imma do you right by you. I love you so much.."

of course, if the kid doesn't feel that connected to baxter since they were too young to know or rmbr anything, and they don't feel anything much other than sympathy and the occasional sting when they see how much baxter loved them, you don't force it.

you both know that baxter was basically a stranger to them and even though they still respect baxter and he has a place in their heart, they don't feel like they're lacking anything.

"I don't really know what to say.. or how to feel... I see how much [P/N] misses you sometimes, and we have pictures of you, and they talk about you and stuff...

but I don't feel like im missing a dad. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, I wish I knew you too. sometimes I wish you were still here, so I got to know you as well, even though I'm still happy to have dad cove for my dad.

I just wanna know what you were like. I wanna experience what you were like. I... I wanna miss you like everyone else misses you too...

anyway, just know that dad is great! he takes care of me and [P/N] really well! he makes breakfast in bed, and he does/used to do this thing where he lifts me in the air before bed! he's so cool. I see how he makes [P/N] happy as well, so don't worry. although, [P/N] said you always thought cove was reliable and a good guy so maybe you aren't worrying anyway.

well... that's it I guess. i hope ill get to know you one day, and maybe you can tell me you're glad to see dad took good care of us. goodbye,

baxter."

pa."

cove happily listens to anything they have to say on how they feel abt baxter btw. he accepts any of their feelings, be it that they don't feel anything at all, sympathy for others, or they feel sad abt losing him.

if they do say smth like how even though it's unfortunate and they feel bad for everyone who mourns baxter (for example/especially you), they see cove as their dad and don't feel like they're missing anything and they're happy to have cove for their dad.

ofc he cries n hugs them n tells them he loves em and he's happy n he comforts them if needed of course

I also think cove is very scared abt being a father

especially in this way... even if the kiddo doesn't remember anything, or it's hazy at best, he worries about replacing baxter.

he'd probably worry abt not living up to baxter

baxter was always much more mature, at least it seemed that way most times. cove just worries about if he has the backbone and the ability to parent the child well and be someone they can look up to and/or appreciate for being a good father

cries if they call him dad btw

if they do it before you start dating, I imagine it's one of the catalyst that cause you to talk abt your feelings for each other. or if it's in the early stage..

cove prbly freezes and runs away to the other room n freaks out, definitely cries. if you don't talk to him like right after he calls his dad n cries n shares his worries n fear

either way, when you do talk he's biting his nails n trying not to pace around the room and he's like "if you wanna distance yourselves so that they don't call me dad any more I totally understand, I mean idk it's prbly weird for you-"

n he just rambles. like none of it makes sense n u have to physically shut him up. kiss him, yell, throw a pillow, hit him w the child's stuffed animal, throw a single lego brick at his back and watch him fall to the floor like he just got a nuke thrown at him

if it's later on n theres nothing to worry abt bc youve talked abt this or saw it coming or its just the otherwise most natural step, he cries of course

but he doesn't fall apart from being his in the back w a single fucking Lego as if it hurt 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (I hate this man he's DRAMATIC)

well... actually no he does

hit him, kiss him, hug him, run him over w a hotel wheels truck.... he just cries harder

adopts them like immediately basically

I imagine you do it soon, like maybe before the wedding just so that way you can have a private moment (just to save him some embarrassment from ugly crying in front of your families. in fact he just might faint fr)

n you + the kiddo surprise him w adoption papers (depending on how old the babe is at this point, they have like no idea what's going on but they know that cove is now officially recognized by the whole world (even by the unicorns n wizards n warlocks) as their daddy))

imagine laying in bed w cove n the kid in between you two

and when you wake up, cove is alrdy awake and was watching you two. he was petting the kids wild hair and he had pulled the two of you in and kept you under his arm..

and the sunlight is coming in, the day is just perfect. n the look on cove's face is full of so much love but also a bit somber this time

(cove feels awkward being here like this sometimes. during times like this you have to remind him it's okay, and you pull him back in. of course he does the same for you on those days.)

"I love you two. so much..." he whispers, tears sticking to his lashes

the kid flips over, curling into cove and they stop their sleepy mumbling now that they're tucked into cove's chest, feeling warm, happy, and safe.

you whisper equally as tender. "we were meant to be like this too."

also!! smth I just thought of...

imagine the kid looks mostly/very much like baxter. they act very much like cove's kid

like you would think cove n baxter had a kid together LOL

(if the resemblance is too much, they ask if you're the step parent </3 pls Ik it may not make sm sense but I just think it'd be so fuckin funny)

[elisedonut]

Speaking of PaperSeer

I've been meaning to post all the propaganda i did for them for that Ship Battle separately because I want it be in it's own thing vs hiding in the rbs

None of this is new if you were following those but I like having it all in one place

It's just a bunch of fun concepts or reasons i think they would be cute

Ex-boyfriends older brother? Ex-BFs Older brother!! because that's always so fun and adds some cool drama

OR

on the other hand Dating your crushes little brother specifically because they are related and you have little chance with the older one

They could bond over divination, which has the added effect of Lavender probably not expecting him to like it at all so it's a nice surprise for her when he does.

Could also be used to make a Mentor/Mentee relationship that changes as the years pass

Lavender sending him letters all the time in that first year after he graduates under the guise of wanting help when in reality the poor girl just has a crush.

And Percy is Percy so having someone just want his help with something is just such an easy way for him to become fond of someone.

Something about Lavender I've begun to notice makes me want to pair her with people older than her and while Percy is still close-ish in age his personality would most likely emphasize that gap a bit which is a plus to me

I'm a firm believer in the Percy was very lost after the war concept and in a world where Lavender lives she would be too which also gives them a good jumping point

Like Lavender stays with the Weasley's after the war but with so many people in the burrow there's just too much noise for her because trauma from the war so Percy ends up inviting her to stay with him instead. Which has the added benefit of being good for both of them.

TransGirl!Percy/Lavender would be so much fun I love the concept of TransGirl!Percy with the most high fem girly pop girls I can find and Lavender is no exception to that

Ok so I'm going to add on some extra thoughts to one of the more vague concepts i shared before because its been living rent free in my head

So-

the concept of Lavender ending up staying with Percy for awhile after the war

Maybe she lost everyone in the war (by death or by being abandoned by her family you know either way) Maybe she's just having strong self hatred hours over being scarred and doesn't want them to see her.

Whatever the reason she can't/won't go home.

And Percy lets her stay with him because maybe his family pushes him into it. Maybe he just feels bad about her situation.

if its a Werewolf!Lavender situation where she was abandoned by everyone because of it maybe he just relates to that feeling and invites her because of his feelings of never being able to do enough during the war regardless of how much he had done.

Point is it happens and after a few weeks their able to help each other with things they both struggle with

Percy flat that's been borderline empty since moving in starts filling up with just stuff like obviously you know the normal house stuff he hadn't bothered with.

A couch here. A table there. but also like random stuff. Lamps. Curtains that actually look nice. Rugs. Little things just start filling the place out and Percy realizes more and more that the clutter is nice and is finally making the flat that's been the place he'd slept for years at this point actually feel like a home to him.

How does Lavender get all that stuff? I was mostly thinking odd shops personally like I always envision Percy's flat as in London so despite having not checked for the time frame. I imagine there would be quite a few shops to choose from.

Also having multiple people who are bad at taking care of themselves in general but who are decent at remembering different things in the same house. Means they can help each other with the parts they struggle with more.

In their case I do think a big one would be Percy making sure she's actually eating and Lavender trying to keep him from working to much its basic but i think it works for them.

I think Lavender dives even more into divination post war and that's what she does for like work after awhile. I also think she originally had no intention of going back to Hogwarts to redo her seventh year but Percy manages to convince her too with the promise that she can still stay with him on breaks and after she graduates/

mostly because that being a big catalyst of them realizing they have like feelings feelings after being apart is cute to me

Like Percy comes home from work every day and is just like oh- right like it's for the best and he firmly believes that but he misses the company you know?

Lavender is also having a not great time. She's no coward but that doesn't make returning to Hogwarts after everything that happened in her last year not terrible regardless. She's on high alert the whole time and can barely focus on anything because of it. Even her readings are not going as well. She keeps catching herself thinking about Percy's flat as home.

In the end I think she ends up leaving the school and just like taking her owls at a later date because she just doesn't want to deal with it.

Which also means you get Percy helping her study for it which is really cute

I'll also add all my original, more diverse thoughts I added to their first round below a read more!

We are back to just random thoughts because I don't think I have enough of any specific concept to talk too long

So- Lavender while doing a divination reading seeing that her last love will have red hair and during this time she's still with Ron and as any girl her age just assumes that's who the sight is telling her about

she doesn't really think about it to to much after they break up until she's laying on the cold ground assuming she's not going to make it and then its all

ah- last love because it's my only real chance of it

But then you know in this scenario she does manage to make it somehow

maybe someone is able to stop fast enough to put a statis spell on her or something

Oh a soulmate au where you can save you're soulmate from certain death one single time even if they're technically already gone? that could be fun with them Like maybe as everyone's gathering up the rest of the dead after Voldy's gone and Percy's throwing himself into helping to try not to think about Fred too much and after carrying her for a minute she just wakes up that would really neat

Plus now all i can think about is everyone in the school touching legit everyone that died

you know just in case

just everyone going in a circle and holding every corpses hand for a few moments

could be used as a set up for a lot of interesting ships ngl

Anyway back to the topic at hand

In a scenario where most of the Weasley's hadn't seen much of Lavender after the war just imagine how funny that first time Percy brings her over would be

everyone would be so confused and I think it would be hilarious

[watching-pictures-move]

Viddying the Nasties | The Beyond (Fulci, 1981)

Ten or so years ago I gave myself a little project on my blog to explore and write about the Video Nasties, and The Beyond was the first movie I picked. I remember going to the video store I was frequenting at the time, where they had a cheeky post-it on the cover of the Grindhouse Releasing DVD they kept on their shelves. “Brought to you by National Geographic!” That place still luckily still exists, and I actually dropped by recently and spent an irresponsible amount of money, although I didn't drop by that back part of the store where I remember it being displayed. Perhaps that post-it is still there, enticing wayward horror movie fans lured in by the promise of that post-it. Like many others, I was blown away by this at the time and it's grown to be a personal favourite, likely because it's at least somewhat integral to my growth as a horror movie fan.

I'm sure this movie's been written about to death, but one of the reasons that I love this so much is that it feels like a convergence of two schools of horror, of the implicit and the explicit. Of atmosphere and suggestion, and grisly, punitive violence, exemplified most strongly in the scene where Cinzia Monreale and her trusted canine companion find themselves alone in a shadowy house, stricken with fear, only for mysterious figures to appear out of nowhere, unnerving in their blocking. The irrational becomes literal without the sense of dread being diluted. Even the violence carries this this tension, both grisly enough to sate any gorehound, but almost surreal in rendering bodily destruction as a clash of textures, the way the man's face is stretched in different directions as spiders gnaw at his lips, his tongue, and Fulci's favourite target, his eyes.

When compared to the other Bad Boy of Italian horror, Fulci's violence seems blunt, messy, while Argento's seems precise, choreographed. (I should clarify that I mean Bad meaning Good. Bad meaning Bad would be either Bruno Mattei or Ruggero Deodato, depending on if you're referring to quality or ethics.) I think of Argento painting with fine brushstrokes and Fulci painting with broad ones. I think of Argento rendering his violence through colour and movement, and Fulci through texture and stillness. I used to be annoyed that the characters in Fulci's films froze up during the gore scenes, but perhaps such reactions are easier to excuse once you accept that these characters are petrified in the face of the irrational, of things they have never seen and cannot comprehend.

This has the spine of a movie where characters are investigating the supernatural, but with the beats shuffled around so they don't quite make sense. The evil in this movie operates according to a logic known only to itself, and kept hidden from us. And it dismantles the rules of our physical, literal reality. Night and day collapse into one, locations across the city collapse into close proximity, and the barrier between hell and our plan dissolve, and fog envelopes all. This should earn you a lot of stamps on your foggy movie punchcard, but should you finally get that submarine sandwich, maybe don't eat it during this movie.

So this is maybe not a terribly comforting film, but I always like spending time in it. This operates according to the same punitive nightmare logic as City of the Living Dead, and is maybe not as aggressively free-associative as that one in its rhythms (that movie is possibly the closest a movie has come to capturing the feel of one of my nightmares), but the wider wiiiiiiiiiiidescreen cinematography and the New Orleans locations give this an added lushness. And as I've said before, Italian horror is my comfort food and seeing these actors again and again, especially with rewatches, is like spending time with my friends. I enjoy hanging out with Catriona McColl and David Warbeck, who bring a nice lived-in quality to their performances. And I find myself moved by the relationship between Cinzia Monreale, who brings a delicacy and poignancy that contrasts interestingly with the dread surrounding her, and her adorable little, okay pretty big, dog. So there is warmth in this movie if you look for it.

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapter #03

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More Trigun annotations! I'm doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc. (and being so so gay about the characters. of course)

As always, here are the non-analysis panels of my dear babygirl (+ memes)...

And the rest is under the cut. i am living in ur brain now <3

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

Starting off with the chapter cover of our handsome boy, this is the first time we see him with his glasses! I've seen someone on Twitter make a guide on Vash's different glasses designs over the manga (sadly it either cost money or was only distributed at a con and I don't have it...), so I'll try to pay attention to that during this readthrough.

As I've mentioned in the previous chapter, his antennae used to stand straight up, but they're bent now! They pop back up once in a while but from here on, the default is bent.

I love how gently he sets the girl down, and also the way everyone waits in awkward silence (and confusion) for Vash to move the rubble.

I think this part works excellently as-is, but notes on the nuances of what Nebraska originally said (this was ridiculously hard and the translation is very rough):

①「絶対どこかで不都合を並べた奴を消して来てるのさ」 ②「なぜなら」 ③「現におまえは消される側にまわってねえ……！！�� ↓ ① There has to have been a time when you "eliminated" ("erased"/killed) someone that got in your way (/someone unfortunate enough to [be there]...etc). ② Because... ③ In reality, you haven't taken on the role ("side") of being eliminated...!!

This part's very hard... He's talking about something similar to offense/defense. In this case, it's that because Vash has been avoiding conflict/being in direct danger entirely, Nebraska is saying that Vash must have killed, directly or indirectly, someone who got in the way of Vash's fleeing. I think.

I'm not sure why, but the way this was phrased stuck out to me.

Also, Gofsef's fist had an extra knuckle for one panel.

A translation error - it should be something like "He shot every bullet into the same precise spot... And shifted its trajectory!?"

Vash says "JACKPOT!" in English here, in the Japanese version. also hes soooo handsomeeeeee look at him omgggg kicking my legs back n forth blushing giggling i need to be tranquilized.

Nebraska's straight-up being crushed into pieces here. goddamn.

Not sure if it was removed in one of the reprints or in Overhaul's cleanup process, but in my Japanese copy, there was a "thump" onomatopoea of the guy backing into a wall.

Milly and Meryl are the best comedy duo in the world... They're perfect... The tiny speech bubble actually says something like "They're goofing all over the place..." The word ボケ (boke) is the funny man in a manzai comedy duo (as opposed to the straight man), and/or the jokes that the person in that role makes.

YIPPEE!! (In Japanese, it's one continuous exclamation ↑ like so. Also, there are tiny music notes around the handwritten text in the wahoo speech bubble.)

Vash runs out of breath after celebrating (cleaned up in Overhaul). God he's so silly...

A small error - I would phrase Meryl's line as "[Now, now,] Don't get too ahead of yourself."

I love how in Japanese, Meryl calls Vash "a very dangerous person with chronic troublemaker disease (慢性トラブル症)." I'm saying this from now on.

She also sarcastically says that she's grateful of the stars' alignment that they were able to meet, while gorilla gripping Vash's hand.

Also, I never noticed how fucked up Nebraska's body was!? Maybe the memories just got rewritten by Stampede. but goddamn. gun for legs...giant mechanical hands...

Vash making a Kirby Ꙩ.Ꙩ face my beloved. just a little guy!! with some badass girls!!! The last line is 「…はい？」 which is like what??/huh??/alright?? etc. はい is a very versatile word ☝ lol

That's it for Chapter #03! As always, the Japanese annotations will be in the reblogs. I'll remember to write the post about Meryl's speech patterns sometime soon.

[alchemicaladarna]

Well...Happy 1 year of QSMP I guess...

There's just no easy way to say anything about everything that's been happening the past few weeks and everything that's happened since yesterday because it's a fucking dumpster fire and I'm just so tired of it all to be honest...

But this post isn't about that.

I still want to celebrate this server's first year anniversary because of how much it means to me personally. I made a post talking about how I initially started watching the qsmp (two days early 💀) but I'll reiterate what I've always said:

That despite all the problems of the server, despite all the damage that has been done, never forget what it has managed to achieve and hopefully continues to achieve in the future, under better conditions.

The QSMP's mission was to unite people from all over the world to play together and be friends despite speaking different languages and having different cultures. It united communities and formed friendships across the globe. Personally, achieving that takes more than just sticking random people in the same room together because it's about making genuine connections that could last a lifetime. And the qsmp achieved that. I'll never stop saying this because despite all its glaring problems, the qsmp is revolutionary for all the good it has managed to do.

Ok, like think about the translations alone. I'm using Bad as an example because he's the only one so far that I've seen do this but, BBH has set up live translations of multiple languages on his screen so non-english speakers can still understand his streams and his vods even if he's not playing on the qsmp. That wouldn't have happened without the QSMP's influence. That's fucking incredible!

Think about all the CC's and admins that became friends after meeting on the server. Former admins like Lumi (Pomme) and Shade (Dapper) still talking to Bad on his chat and watching his stream. That's still really awesome! Not to mention all the amazing collaboration projects with many qsmp members outside minecraft like Ordem Paranormal and Liar Liar, to name a few.

Look, the last three weeks have been extremely difficult on everyone. I myself am tired of the situation and scrolling through the tag, especially after yesterday, just makes me sad tbh. For the first time since these weeks, I felt so despondent and shocked about everything. It got to the point where, after Shade and Lumi announced their departure, I called my mom and broke down sobbing and vented about the whole admin situation. And bless her heart, my mom actually listened and I'm going to share the advice she gave me:

"Let them fix the problem. Let the company do the restructuring they need to do because right now, it sounds like they have a lot of problems to fix. It's going to take a long time before things can go back to any sense of normalcy, so while they do that, focus on yourself for now. If you're so invested in all the problems of this online world, maybe it's time to step back for now. Maybe it's time to focus on the real world."

And well, she's right. I've been so upset about the situation that my mental health wasn't faring well because of it. Yesterday was kind of a wake up call for me I guess?

I've been in this fandom for 10 months now. It's the longest time I've been invested in a community and qsmp has and will always have a special place in my heart. But I think it's time to let go and move on for now. I'll keep my hopes up and hope that the future is bright, and the qsmp will continue because it has so much potential to achieve more greatness, but I'll leave the project to rest and focus on other endeavors for now.

I'll be posting art and checking in on stuff from time to time, and of course, I'll be watching BBH, but it might be time to depart and say, "Thanks for everything, and I'll see you later."

Most people will be ashamed to mention the fandoms they've been a part of when they were younger, but 10 years from now, if anyone ever asks if I was a part of the qsmp fandom, I'll gladly say yes and tell all the good stories I have about it.

I love the community we made here on qsmpblr, and if I trust the QSMP's mission of uniting people, then I trust that, no matter what happens, this community will be here when I return.

Because...Despite everything, it's all about love, right? And no matter what happens, the love is still there, and will always be.

Thank you for the journey <33