#but sometimes you just need to let people hash shit out

[yourqueenb]

The way Getaway Girls is going is unfortunate because it could’ve been fun, but the chapters that focus on Maia and Anita and highlight the family bickering veer into unenjoyable territory imo

[pushingdaisies1]

Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging. 

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads. 

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it. 

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

 "Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

 Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun. 

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word?  “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you’d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart. 

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

[junkiepunkie]

Marauders fic snippet?

Hey so I thought I’d put a lil snippet of the first chapter of my new marauders fic here and ask people’s thoughts? (For context, the fic is set during prisoner of Azkaban and onwards)

this excerpt comes right after Remus finds out Sirius has escaped Azkaban:

Remus thought about laughing, he really did, the type of exasperated laugh that people let slip at the worst of times, but he couldn't. Everything he had tried so desperately to forget for the past 12 years was crashing into him at once, and he was drowning in it. Could he even go to Hogwarts again? Could he ride the train without James? Or eat in the great hall without Pete? write in a classroom without Lily looking over his shoulder? He didn't know. It was moments like this where Remus most wished he still had someone who knew everything about him. Someone he could really hash these big questions out with. well, Remus didn't quite know anyone who knew his childhood anymore, but he knew just who he needed in this moment. 

He hauled himself with the last ounce of power he thought he could muster that morning and put on his worn, brown Mackintosh coat, and dragged himself out of number 7 Godric's hollow and to the train station. He needed London. now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus triggered the cafe door bell upon entering. He smiled for the first time that day at the sound. He had scrapped his plans to visit the job centre and taken a day trip to Camden, where his favourite coffee shop lay hidden down a fairy-light laden alley. "Macdonald Coffeehouse" was painted moss green and burnt orange, with brick peeking out where the wall was chipped in the corner. As he entered, Remus bathed in the warm light and shed his distress for a moment, frozen for the time being in a melancholy hopefulness. He walked up to the counter like an eager kid and waited for a minute before finally caving and letting out a small "hello" to alert those in the backroom that someone was present. 

"oh shit- erm ONE SEC!" a melodic female voice shouted through from the store room.

Remus Laughed. "s'alright Mary its only me!" 

A relieved face peeked out from behind the door. Mary was glowing, six months pregnant and flashing her eye-reaching smile. 

"Well, if it isn't my favourite customer." she grinned waltzing over. "god, you came the one day I made Jill take a break!" 

Remus sighed happily, Jill, Mary's long term girlfriend was a workaholic to say the least but Remus knew that she wasn't long after her top surgery, no wonder Mary was refusing to let her work. 

"Yeah you'll have to tell her I said hi." 

Mary rolled her eyes "tell her yourself! Just come over again sometime. It's been ages." 

Remus bit his gum to keep from tearing up. "actually... that's kind of what I came here to talk about."

Mary raised her eyebrows and pouted the way she always did when she knew Remus was going to say. Without a word she held up her finger to him and started preparing his usual -cinnamon latte- with a laboured sigh. Remus sat at the nearest table and prepared himself for a debrief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus held his middle finger up to Mary in a fit of laughter. 

"I can't fucking believe you! i'm trying to make a serious decision!" he told her.

She snorted "fuck off with your 'decision' shit! 'oh i've just been offered a job in a mansion in Scotland where I get free food and housing and get to do my dream job, but oh no Mary! it's so far from you!' yeah that a real hard choice."

"uh- it's a castle actually." Remus mocked

Mary stuck out her tongue before she glanced at the shops clock. 

"Christ okay, i can't chat for much longer hun, you know how weirdly busy this place gets at night."

Remus smirked. 'Weirdly busy' was code for Mary's 'herbal tea' hours being mobbed. "of course-"

"No wait. Before you leave we are going to get to the bottom of why you really don't want to take this job."

Remus groaned. He should've known he couldn't hide from Mary, she knew him too well.

"right," he started "You remember I told you about my school? and um... what happened after school."

Mary looked to the floor and she sipped her tea "yeah, the gunman."

"exactly." Remus choked on his lie but recovered as he always did "well, this- this school is my school so going back.."

"feels like taking a trip down memory lane." Mary finished "yeah, you know what I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. I reckon i'd crumble."

Remus frowned gently "nah, you wouldn't. You'd move on.”

the fic is called “we were laughing” on ao3

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Analyze Piss" was a great episode but not what I expected, which made it hard to write a review at first. I assumed that most of the episode would take place in Dr. Wong's office with Rick hashing out some of his issues. Admittedly, I guess that's what happened in a more indirect (and more entertaining) way.

When Jerry's fight with Pissmaster went on for a good couple of minutes, I was like...are we seriously spending valuable screentime on this? But I guess we needed to see Jerry being a badass and humiliating Pissmaster to understand why the world was fawning over him.

The topic of change keeps coming up this season. People tell Rick that he won't change, and he doesn't want to, but he IS changing. Unfortunately, no one seems to notice.

He tries to tell Jerry that acting like a superhero is a bad idea. The family boos him. He tells them at the end of the episode that he knew Jerry's adventures would fall apart, and they boo him again.

Rick tells them that they're only praising him for trying to change because they want to feel superior--and maybe he's right. In their minds, THEY don't have to change anything. HE does. And it's 100% true that Rick's fucked up a lot of shit, he's been abusive, he's hurt Morty in ways that he probably can't atone for, and he needs therapy more than anybody.

But they talk about his therapy visits in a condescending way, like "Aww, that's so cute! Are you going to change for us, Rick? Are you going to be docile and passive?" They praise him when they think that Rick concocted some crazy plan to boost Jerry's ego for no reason. When they learn the truth, they turn on him again.

I won't say that he doesn't deserve it. They don't owe him anything, and they'd be well within their rights to kick him out of the house and never talk to him again. But Rick didn't create the toxic family dynamic that Beth and Jerry had been cooking up for 16 years before he showed up. I think they're telling themselves that everything that happens is his fault, and he's getting to the point where he's kind of letting them think that.

Rick smiles to himself when the Smiths leave with Jerry on his ship (although he does drink from his flask) and ignores a couple of the bad guys tailing him. When they start fighting each other and leave him alone, he thinks that he's got it all figured out.

But inevitably, he starts to fall apart. He gets drunk and hears people at the bar mocking Pissmaster. "Who could relate, being that much of a piece of shit?" Rick can. He and Pissmaster aren't that different--they provoke people, they're pieces of shit and everyone wants them to be the villain. He's going to visit Pissmaster so they can drink beer and bond over their shitty lives.

He arrives to find that Pissmaster killed himself. Through the door, Rick hears Pissmaster's daughter apologize and say that she's worried about him, she loves him and she'd blame herself if something happened to him--all things that Rick would love to hear from his own daughter, and probably never will hear. At least not in that same fretful, emotional tone.

Everything goes to shit for everyone except Pissmaster's daughter, who believes that her father died a hero. Admittedly, Rick shouldn't have told Morty about the note--it's understandable that he'd want someone to know the truth, but he can't trust a 14-year-old kid with that information, and he needs to stop seeing Morty as his peer anyway. He should've taken it to Dr. Wong.

But telling the truth just makes the Smiths turn on him again. And after all that, why should Rick change? Why be honest? Why not play the roles that they want him to play: the aggressive villain or the docile old man, or both?

Sometimes, the people around you don't want you to change even if it's for the best. I don't think the Smiths want anything to change. That would force Beth and Jerry to face their shitty marriage and the ways they abused and neglected their children, especially Morty, and that's not going to happen.

Just keep blaming everything on the drunk old man in the garage.

But Rick IS changing. In seasons 1-4, Rick would have taken the fact that they believed that he was always Pissmaster as an opportunity to gloat and manipulate everyone. Here, he just looks at them sadly. He tries to talk Jerry out of doing something that he knows will end badly. He desperately tells Morty the truth because he's sick of lying. And the entire premise of the episode is based on Rick willingly going to therapy.

Seasons five and six have countless moments that show that Rick's trying to grow up, show affection, be a father figure, admit to his fuckups and treat Morty gently. Even in season four, he was starting to cut the bullshit a little.

And it must be hard on him. Everything was easier when he was a monster. Beth loved him, Jerry was out of the way and he did whatever he wanted with no guilt, fear or regret while suppressing his trauma and shame. Wouldn't it be easier to be the heartless patriarch who can manipulate his family into doing anything? Go on adventures? Cook and clean for him? Stop talking to Jerry? Show him affection? Actually want to be around him? Make him feel human again?

There's no going back even if he tried--they know him too well now. And he shouldn't go back because he was a monster destroying his entire family. But he needs the Smiths' affection and encouragement if he's going to get anywhere because he's not going to get it from himself.

[olderthannetfic]

Nothing turns me off from a fanfic faster than a fear of emotional sincerity. There's so much irony, so many jokes, so many "ugh that was awkward" "I know right" after scenes that could have been touching had they not just been undermined, and a thorough coating of snark and sarcasm over an alarming number of protagonists. My fandom lends itself well to OCs and I've read some wonderful, one of a kind OCs as a result. I've also read a lot of the above, whatever you'd like to term that sort of story. I find it deeply uninspiring. How am I meant to be interested in a story when the author isn't? How am I supposed to get deeply invested in this thing when we have to punctuate everything with quips? Sometimes I just want a story where not everyone feels like they're saying lines for the movie trailers and memes these fics will never actually get.

There's so much potential out there in the setting for all kinds of characters. I shouldn't be able to take quotes from all of these OCs in all these different roles and have them read in that same irreverent, I-am-quipping-in-the-war-zone tone to such a degree that any line could come from all of them.

And when I mentioned this to a friend they assumed that meant I wanted boring heroes. No. Too much of anything makes that the boring, predictable thing. I want weird. Give me a very sincere hero who is also mildly out of touch with reality and talks to bugs but whose pacifism will not extend to you if you touch his loved ones. Give me a hot grandpa who's too old for snarky shit and wants to hash things out like an adult and relearns how to see the world with wonder in his eyes. Give me a heroine who's neurodivergent and nice and also really good at a handful of things that bring her actual joy instead of snarky cool girl semi-joy. Just. Any break from the latest brunette white cis culturally Christian atheist snarky cool person who always has a line at the ready and doesn't let anything get under their skin no matter how much it would be really weird for it to not matter to them, actually and how completely understandable it would be to let them feel something.

A scene that lives rent free in my head is from a fanfic now deleted, but in which two characters just talk about their trauma and have a quiet moment. The canon character is comforted by the OC without any romantic undertones or intent. Nobody makes any jokes to break the tension. They just have a moment where one person leans on someone else because sometimes life is fucking hard and you just need someone else to tell you they've been there, they managed, you're not alone, they've got you.

Most fics in my fandom don't have that much sincerity in the entire story. And this thing I loved, this fandom I invested six years into, is finally just too dull of a sandbox to play in anymore. I don't like that. Nobody's taking any risks, even one as minor as emotional sincerity in fiction, which is arguably a lot safer a place to do that than reality.

I miss when my fandom was new and the OCs were some of the most baffling people you've ever had described to you with nonetheless well-written backstories going out to do shit they believed in.

--

Sincerity is terrifying for an author.

[veronicaphoenix]

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there. “Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago. “My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, ptsd, therapy, Lia is on medication, a lot of angst but a lot of fluff, too. Noah and Lia are on dangerous grounds. Noah can't help but being a flirt. Lia is dealing with too many things and is very confused and feeling like shit. A lot of alcohol consumption that will lead to inevitable consequences. | Word count: 3.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

I had been in the studio for about an hour and a half, hashing out details of our upcoming tour and listening to Matt’s heated discussions over the phone.

The first hour was all about work, but then my thoughts drifted to Lia, as it had been happening very often lately. Before heading to the studio, I’d dropped her off at her therapy session, agreeing that she would give me a call once it was over so that I could pick her up and bring her here. But thirty minutes had passed since the session should’ve ended, and there was no call or message from her.

I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway to call her. She picked up on the second ring.  

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice edged with concern.

“Making my way home. To your home. Or mine. I’m not sure,” her voice sounded subdued, a common post-therapy tone.

“I thought we said I’d pick you up,” I said.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m not feeling well,” a sob escaped her lips, small but audible. “I dont feel like going to the studio. I dont want to be cooped up within four walls again."

It took me a moment to think about what to say next, what solution to propose to her. I didn’t like the idea of her being on her own after an hour spent talking about her traumas, worries, and vulnerabilities.

“Where exactly are you?”

“Out on the street,” Lia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty because she probably didn’t know its name.

“It will take you an hour to get back home on foot, Lia. At least.”

“I don’t care. I could use a walk around the city. It’s what I need. I feel…” her voice trembled, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I can’t be okay knowing you out there alone when you’re feeling unwell. I’m coming to get you. Then we can decide where to go from there, alright?”

“Noah, I don’t want to keep burdening you with my problems. You’re already doing enough. You don’t need to worry so much about me, please. I’ll feel better in sometime. I have to take my next pill before lunch, I’ll feel okay after that.”

“Lia, if we have to have this discussion again, we will. Your well-being matters to me, and I’ll keep worrying about you until I’m an old grump. So, tell me where you are, and I’ll be there in less than fifteen. We can go wherever you want. The rest of the tasks here can wait. Besides, all Matt is doing is arguing with different people over the phone,” I pointed out, still hearing his voice through the door. I let out a sigh.

On the other side of the line, a mixture of tears and laughed escaped Lia, a sign of her acquiescence.

“Alright… I’ll send you the address. I’ll wait for you outside the Starbucks on the corner.”

“Good, grab yourself a coffee, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

She didn’t get herself a coffee.

When I pulled up at the spot, Lia was leaning against the wall between Starbucks and the 24-hour mart on the right. The beer can in her hand had probably been bought there. Before getting in the car, she took one last sip and chucked it in a waste bin.  The beer scent lingered as she settled into the seat, but I didn’t care. I reached out instinctively to her, running my fingers through her hair. Her eyes met mine, a bit downcast.

“Thanks for coming,” she murmured softly.

“Where to?” I asked, still inadvertently playing with her hair, that fell in soft waves over her thin grey jacket.

Lia shrugged.

I kept on checking on her until it was obvious that it wasn’t her best day. I thought of what to do, where to go. I dug into my brain until I remembered a place. We had been there before, but that was many years ago.

I started the car and veered away from the city.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, noticing we were going the opposite way of home.

“Surprise,” I replied with a grin.

Lia frowned.

“Noah, surprises aren’t really my jam right now. I want quiet and…” she muttered clearly exhausted, but I stopped her.

Her tired eyes and dark circles showed she hadn’t been sleeping well, and her therapy session probably didn’t help her current state.

“I know. You’ll like this one,” I told her. “Have I ever surprised you with something you disliked?”

I looked away from the road briefly as Lia hesitated, which prompted me to urge her to answer, even though I knew what she’d say.

“Never,” she eventually replied.

“Exactly. So, relax while I drive. We’ll grab some food on the way.”

We made it to Upper Franklin Canyon Reservoir in les than forty minutes. Since it was a weekday and just past one o’clock, the place was blissfully uncrowded. The parking lot was only occupied by two other cars, and as we stepped out, the refreshing scent of nature filled our lungs. Lia’s face lit up as she took in the surroundings, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

I walked around the car and offered Lia my hand, just like we used to when we were kids. She took it, and together, we strolled along the wooden path on the left. After a few minutes, we found ourselves at a spot by the river, sheltered by the trees and the branches above us.

I released Lia’s hand, allowing her to approach the edge and take in the serene view of the water and the ducks gliding peacefully.

“I thought you’d like this,” I said, staying a couple of steps behind her.

“Thank you”, she said, her voice barely audible over the tranquil sounds of nature.

“Maybe someday we can go back to the lake where we grew up,” I suggested tentatively, unsure of how Lia would feel about the idea.

For me, that place held memories of happiness, of being with her. It was the place where the troubles of the world had felt distant.

But perhaps Lia didn’t share the same sentiment. Maybe she didn’t want to reminisce about our childhood, about hers. Maybe she didn’t even want to hear the name of our hometown. She had made it clear a few nights ago when she confessed that the memory of our kiss had brought back many other memories that she didn’t really want in her head right now.

As I reached out to comfort her with a gentle touch on her shoulder, Lia’s hand grasped mine and pulled me close until my chest met her back. In an instant, I found myself holding her from behind, my chin resting atop her head. I felt her trembling, and a solitary tear landed on our intertwined hands, resting on her stomach.

“Lia…” I felt helpless in the face of her pain. I couldn’t bear to see her like this. But I had no idea how to ease her burden.

It was clear she was grappling with thoughts of Mitch. She was haunted by the scars he had left on her life. His actions had intertwined with the memories of her mother and childhood, and now those were huge stains on her heart.

“I’m just so tired of thinking…” she confessed, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I just want to shut off my mind, to stop remembering, to stop considering if I should’ve done things different, if I could’ve avoided this… I just want a break, if only for a few hours…”

Unable to find enough words to calm her, I hugged her tighter, pulling her closer and resting my cheek against her hair.

“And you’re so good to me...” she said then, making me furrow my brow.

I understood what she was going through, but I couldn’t comprehend why she couldn’t accept what I gave her. I had reassured her countless of times that she was my priority, regardless of any other relationships or relatives I had scattered across the globe. Lia was everything. She had practically been my beginning, and she would be my end.

Suddenly, Lia slipped from my embrace, not to escape, but to face me and return the hug, burying her head in my chest.

“I dont deserve you,” she sobbed.

“Says who, huh?” I countered.

“Me.”

“Well,” I lifted her chin with a finger, “you’re wrong, Lia Parker. So, get that stupid thought out of your head.”

With a hand, she rubbed her nose before sniffling and keeping her grip on me, her hands tied at my back.

“I want to do so much,” she began. “I want to write, and draw, help others. I want to be useful, make something meaningful. I don’t want to feel lost again.”

“You’re not lost, Lia. And if you were, I’d always find you.”

We stood in silence, holding onto each other, her body pressed to mine, the gentle breeze embracing us. Lia’s eyes sparkled brighter with tears, but I didn’t want them there. I craved her smile, the laughter lines around her eyes, the dimples and flush on her cheeks.

Lia was not a child anymore; she was a stunning beautiful woman whose past shadows lingered, echoing with the pain she struggled to silence. But despite the weight of her struggles, she was strong, and nothing could keep me from seeing that resilience that she refused to let be extinguished.

Yet, every time I looked at her in those quiet moments made for affection, I saw the little girl I had taught to play guitar, the one who had tried to teach me to make flower crowns, the first girl I had let sleep in my bed and the first to bless me with my first kiss.  

I couldn’t stop myself.

Brushing aside the strands of her hair that danced in the wind, I tucked them behind her ear and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

She didn’t recoil or startle, but rather furrowed her brow and playfully protested, “Don’t be so sweet,” which only made me laugh. “Keep it up, and you’ll end up kissing me again.”

“Would you mind?” I asked with a grin. “Because I certainly wouldn’t.”

She huffed and swatted my chest.

“Bad boy,” she said, but then she nestled into my neck, finding a comfortable spot between my shoulder and chest. “When was the last time you hooked up with someone, anyway?”

“I honestly can’t even remember,” I admitted with a chuckle. It was the truth. “I might as well go celibate at this point.”

“Oh, sure,” her laughter reverberated through me, a beautiful sound that warmed my heart. “With whatever other books you must be reading about sex I doubt that’s something you would achieve.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I can read about sex and still be celibate.”

“Stop it,” she pleaded as her laugh increased. “I hope it’s not because of me,” she said next in a hushed, quieter, and serious tone.

“It’s not because of you,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely convinced of that myself. “Don’t worry,” I said, brushing my lips against her head again. It felt comforting, her hair was soft, and it smelled so good. What wasn’t to love about this moment with her in my arms?

“I shouldn’t have let you leave the studio for me,” she continued, taking a deep breath against my shoulder. “They guys will hate me for keeping you away when the first show is just around the corner.”

“The guys understand what you’re going through and couldn’t care less if I’m in the studio with them today or not. I’m sure some of them are relieved not to have me bossing them around.”

“You are pretty bossy…”

“Hey, getting sassy again, are we?” I retorted, pulling away slightly to meet her gaze, which she tried to hide in my hoodie, holding tightly to my back to avoid letting me see the grin on her face.

Her laugh filled the air as she squirmed in my hold, and I couldn’t help but cherish the moment, silently hoping and praying that moments like these would bring some healing to her.  

Come afternoon, we settled into comfortable hours lounging on the couch, each engrossed in our own tasks. Lia was focused on completing song lyrics while I worked on my MacBook.

Eventually, we waved Jolly and Jesse off, who had their own plans for the evening. Jesse was going to visit his parents for his mother’s birthday and would stay with them for a few days, while Jolly was heading to Emery’s place after finally deciding to take things further in their relationship.

Lia and I couldn’t resist teasing him, a constant since the night Emery had stayed over and slept in his bed. While there was no 3am chicken wing date for me and Lia, it was clear that Emery and Jolly had hit it off, evident in their flirtatious interactions the next morning while prepping breakfast.

When Jesse announced he was leaving, Lia asked to check on the plants he had bought for his mom one last time. Jesse expressed his gratitude for her care of the plants since he had acquired them from the botanical gardens.

Once Lia and I were alone, it was already past seven, and we found ourselves back on the couch. Lia’s feet rested on my lap while I massaged her toes, watching another episode of Attack on Titan on TV as she worked on coloring some design on her iPad.

After the episode ended, I suggested Lia that we could video call Grandma. It had been a while since we last spoke to her, and we hadn’t mentioned anything about Lia’s situation with Mitch, only that they had broken up when things stopped feeling right. Grandma was aware of their relationship but knew little about what had happened later. Despite my efforts to downplay the situation when I spoke to her —Lia was in no condition to tell her—, Grandma always seemed to sense when something was going on. It didn’t matter how good I could pretend to make it sound as if Lia was fine and over it.  Even if she wouldn’t address it directly, she could feel when something was broken. And when she saw Lia that afternoon, their conversation shifted to a somber silence after the initial joy of seeing each other on the screen, and Grandma’s eyes grew teary.

Lia and Grandma had a special connection that allowed them to communicate without words, and soon, Lia was seeking comfort nestled against my shoulder, trying to hold back her tears.

To lighten the mood, I smoothly transitioned the conversation to our upcoming trip to Japan, scheduled for a month after our tour in the States. Grandma was eagerly anticipating our visit and couldn’t wait to have us in her little house in the village after our shows in four different cities across Japan concluded. I shared her excitement, looking forward to spend some time away from home and submerged in a different country of a different culture with Lia.

After our videocall with Grandma, Lia and I turned our attention to dinner. Given her low spirits, Lia persuaded me to order takeout.

With a tray loaded with Chinese food and beer, we headed to the studio, setting up the bed on the pull-out sofa and deciding to watch a movie while we ate. That night, after seeing how down she’d been all day, I couldn’t refuse her anything.

It was dawning on me that Lia was my weakness, and I feared there might be no turning back from that realization.

As the night went on, Lia’s mood seemed to lift. The alcohol played a part, but so did I.

We were snug while watching the movie, the empty tray now back in the kitchen and two more beers back with us in the studio, in our hands. Lia was practically nestled against my side, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts that looked oversize on her and dark panties underneath. I noticed, but I kept that knowledge to myself.

One of my arms was draped around her shoulders, and she was casually sipping her beer as if nothing had troubled her earlier.

I realized I was starting to feel a little drunk when I noticed that Lia was already drunk.

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there.

“Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago.

“My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

With a wide smile, Lia shifted and straddled my lap, her hands landing on my shoulders, mine on her hips.

“I’m going to get another beer. Do you want one?” she asked, speaking as if a beer were candy and she were an excited child allowed to indulge in something sweet.

I made a face, letting my head fall back on the headrest of the couch.

“Come on, pleaaase!” she pleaded, starting to play with the short strands of hair at the nape of my neck. She was doing a pretty good damn job trying to convince me. “It’s just you and me tonight. Can we get drunk and have some fun?”

“We’re already having fun.”

She pouted, and I would have fallen to my knees had I been standing.

“Alright,” I conceded, dragging out the word and giving in to her.

“Yaay!” she cheered, hopping over my legs to get up and fetch another beer. “I’ll also get a bottle of water.”

As if that would make any difference…

When she returned, she had the bottle of water clutched to her chest with one arm and two more cans of beer in her hands. I looked at her disapprovingly, but I couldn’t say no when she gave me puppy dog eyes again.

Jesus Christ, what was that woman doing to me?

The second beer turned into a third, and the third, somehow, turned into a fourth.

By then, Lia was completely drunk, and me... I was drunk, too, of course. Some common sense remained, but I was starting to feel sleepy and a bit dizzy, and if Lia just looked at me with those big brown eyes again and asked for anything else, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second before giving it to her.

Author's note: for the ones that have been following this series since I posted the first chapter, which is actually chapter 19, you know what happens next 😣 but I'm currently rewriting it and I'll be positing it in a couple of days, which will finally mean I've completed Koi No Yokan :)

[ladyyatexel]

Fic Snips : Patalliro?

HEY, some of you were struck by my adult Patalliro/Figaro notion, and I wish to tell you more!

For there is so much more. @indigobluerose and @a-cup-of-fantasy have seen Much in this vein, including shit I might never admit to!

As for shit I will admit to, I shall take you on a small journey called "Some of those doodles I posted before have context!" And some context has no doodles, but I hope it is interesting anyway.

Behold:

the foundation of this is that neither of them need to hide anything from the other like they do from everyone else, they're both the cleverest people alive, and they have fun. Thus things like this:

“You know, you're good, but sometimes your face still gives you away.” Figaro plays dumb or innocent or something else he definitely isn't.  “What do you mean?” “You look human most of the time, but sometimes-,” he freezes, striking an elegant pose and adopting a dignified but distant expression, “- you look like an ancient piece of marble.” Figaro blinks, slightly too slowly. “Funny, sometimes your face makes you look almost human.” “Oooh??”  It’s a terrible insult, but it's a good one and it is from Figaro, so it's fun.

Patalliro briefly explains the plot of the other thing I posted:

“When I was ten, I decided that I didn't want to stop doing what I was doing and didn't want time to go forward.  So I moved it.” Patalliro draws along the line and after ten hashes he veers off the course of the line and sends his new line straight upward.  “This way, you can stack things up on it, but it never reaches another year.”  “I didn't notice…” Figaro has more memories than most people, but now he thinks it may be significantly more.   “You were new to being human at the time”  “You can do this?”  “Obviously.” “But it isn't like this now.” This isn't a question.  Figaro feels the shape of time, and the motion of existence.  Things are normal, moving as they should.  “I put it back.”  He continues the line back down to join the horizontal progression, joining back at the eleventh tick on the length. “The day I was here and saw you.” “Me?” “For me then, you were still a baby, but you'd grown, even though you shouldn't have been able to.  I thought you might keep going, but you didn't.  I wanted to see what would happen.” “You could have asked me.”  “While Maraich screamed and kicked me out of the house for interrogating his toddler, yes.” “Ah.” “Oh?  Nothing else to say about that? Just ‘ah’?” “It was very useful at the time.”

Part of the story here was - I've just realized how much backstory I was going to give and thus the true magnitude of how much I've MADE. So there's a 'Figaro marries Patalliro on paper so he has benefits and protection he struggles to get as someone's biologically impossible baby' background to this. It started as a joke, as most things do in this world, but now if anything happens to BanMara, he does not fall through any cracks.

Which then becomes a 'haha, I joke about us being Actual Married and you call me on this and we flail around about this because um what is happening, this should have been normal hanging out'

“Let me know when you want to be really married to me.  I could kiss you all the time and we could turn into those obnoxious kinds of people who make out on benches in the park.” “Okay.” Patalliro is silent for a few seconds, as though waiting for a punchline.   “Do you do this kind of thing to ruin all my jokes now? That's not fair.” “Perhaps your jokes should stop being so easily ruined by reality, then.” “What ‘reality’?” He echoes the word mockingly. “You want me to kiss you?” “Sure.” Patalliro frowns. “You can't do that to everything I say.” “I mean it.  You want to kiss me?” “What is going on?” Patalliro picks up several pillows and makes a show of looking under them. “Am I being filmed or something?” Figaro picks up the last pillow with him, helping him hold it dramatically over their heads like it is shielding them from rain.   “Theatrical refusal to answer means ‘yes,’” Figaro tells him. “Says who?” “Says years of experience with you.” “You’re very confident about this.” “I'm putting on a big flashy front so you can't tell I'm making this up as I go, confused and a little terrified.” “That's…very specific.” “I learned from you.” “Oh,” Patalliro pouts, “and that's very mean.” “It is not.  I said you were inspirational.” “You said I’m making things up!” “You do that all the time.  It usually works in your favor.” Kind of a complement, actually. “I suppose that is right.”

Not unlike this!

This piece is in there somewhere:

“I’ve never kissed someone not as part of a joke before.” “I can act disgusted and hit you, if that will make it feel more familiar.” “What a cold and inhuman thing to say!” 

And this part, which might be my favorite of the 'UH I GUESS THIS IS A KISS NOW??' section:

This is well and good until Figaro starts to laugh.  “First you ruin my jokes and now you really have the mood by the throat.” “Sorry,” Figaro says through a badly restrained laugh.  “It is just that my parents-” “Auuuuuugh.  Mood murdered in its bed by beautiful inhuman blonde assailant.  Local monarchy collapsing.”

Unfortunately for them, they get no time to process this or discuss it and they are both left with mush for brains for a while. In a bit I did make art of, Patalliro decides to cope by becoming one with floor:

The marble tile was cold at first.  Now, hours later, it was almost comfortable. Now, with his face pressed against it, it was all he could see. Made things simple. Felt kind of friendly once he settled in. Maybe he would conduct all the country's business from the tiled floor after this.  Pardons and decrees and budgets, all issued from the comfort of the cold hard floor.  He could do this until Figaro came back.   But then he’d have to figure out what to do when Figaro came back. Figaro, who was so fantastic he was even better than cold hard tile. Figaro, who had been Patalliro’s best friend and all around favorite person for years because of and in spite of being more clever than Patalliro himself.  Figaro, who was not totally human.  Figaro, who was why Patalliro had upended a timeline that suited him so nicely. Figaro, who was the son of his oldest friends. Figaro, who he should not have fallen in love with or allowed to kiss him.  Figaro, whose actions and absence had Patalliro face down on the floor contemplating mortality, morality, and marble. … Footsteps on his tile? Were there still other people in the world on this scale?  “Highness?” A pause.  “Oh.” He discovers the Tamanegi seemingly still exist as the onion troupe member’s shoes encroach on Patalliro’s view of the new sovereign land of Marbinella.  “Highness, you've been down there for… several hours. What are you doing?” “Processing,” he manages.  “Oh?” The voice attached several feet above these shoes sounds hopeful. “The financial reports?” “Mortality,” he replies grimly.  “And morality. And mor -” He rolls onto his side to look up at Tananegi 843. “Moron-ality?” “And who is it that is a dying monster idiot, sir?” The words drop on him like anvils, cannon balls, precariously suspended pianos.  “It’s meee,” he groans miserably, turning his face back into his new kingdom of cold hard smooth problemless tile.

Talking with Maraich about Relevant Things!

“Ah, you've got me alone.  No witnesses, right?” “Patalliro, I'm not going to kill you. Sit down with me.” “I can't help but notice you've specified ‘kill’, which leaves ‘maim’ and ‘dismember’ still on the table.” “No killing or maiming.” “Medieval torture?” “No.” “What about modern torture? I hear they do this thing with water drops in -” “NO. Just be serious!” “Whether I am mortally wounded in this conversation is very serious to me, I assure you.” “Shut up and listen!  It’s about Figaro.” “I guessed, hence my concerns about my mortality.”

And that's probably enough to give you an idea of the initial shape of it! There is a lot. There's more of the scenes here, there's accompanying Figaro in which he think everyone can See It On Him. There's chats with BanMara and ridiculous nonsense. Accidental shenanigans and ones done on purpose. There are wings! It goes on forever, why did I make so much, why am I like this.

I hope this is fun for you to look at!

[romana-after-dark]

Does did Joel do anything for little one for v day ?

So I did the math on where v day would be in the time line. The finalle had little one at 8 months and it was early fall (it was getting cold but not too bad, and little ones thoughts as Joel was dragging her outside was that she needed to rack)

this makes it September at the earliest so v-day in TWW would be placed at shortly after her conceiving Ellie. So what does this mean for little one?

Takes place within the wrong way universe

Tommy is gone, Lorenzo is watching her most of the time. He's not a total dick and they have begun to get on but he's still an asshole. It’s before knowing about pregnancy but she is pregnant.

I would imagine little one is out and about doing her housewife shit. It's February in Wyoming which for my none midwest USA people..... can really SUCK haha. You could be snowed in for days. Im from western South Dakota and I got snowed in for 3 days in April lol. So lets say it's middle weather. Joel goes out for a little bit, maybe to do some thing like securing parameters and feeding the horses. He even checks on the chickens because maybe he doesn't want little one out in the cold and snow. Little one is busy cooking. With a fresh snow it's a free freezer so she wants to do some meal prepping. Feeding several men is not easy.

"Joel bring you any flowers or some bullshit?" Lorenzo was visibly drunk at the table. She didn't know why he was here, really. There was no risk for running, not that she had any desire too. she made her choice last month when she refused to go with Zach.

"Lorenzo there's a blizzard out, you think there's any flowers left in February?" Lorenzo offered you a freedom you never had, to be bit sarcastic sometimes. He didn’t get mad, just gave it back. Your dad and Joel never would allow it and Zach and June would have been sad if you spoke that way to them.

"Oh right" he laughs. "I just mean because it's valentines day."

You had no idea what that meant. The confusion must've been obvious on your face, because he continues.

"You don't know what valentines day is?"

"No..."

He blinked. "It's like, a day to celebrate romance."

"Oh. Well, that wasn't really something that applied to me."

Lorenzo explained the concept, and you wonder if Joel expected something from you today. You briefly think maybe you can do something during sex, but there wasn't anything you and Joel weren't doing. Well, that you knew of. You certainly weren't asking Lorenzo for ideas. What Joel wanted from you during sex, he took. Lorenzo explained that couples would make heart shaped things and pink and red things or go on dates .

So, you get to work. You had almost no resources but you figured you could do heart shaped things. You decided to do breakfast for dinner, making a nice, heaping meal for all the men. For Joel however you make the eggs, hash browns and pancakes in heart shapes. You were to feed all the men, but really you only served Joel. Sometimes you brought a plate to Lorenzo if he didn’t piss you off. You bring a plate to Jack on occasion or at the very least inform him food was ready so he had first grabs. If the men were nice like Jack, you tried to apply some curtesy to them. Kept you in their favor.

When you set them down in front of him, Joel looks up at you with a little smile on his face. "You make this just for me, little one?"

You nod, hands clasped in front of you in the sweater dress Joel picked out for you this morning. He hadn't wanted you in stockings, preferring to watch your legs as you went about the morning chores. When he left though, you put them on because it was cold. Lorenzo warned you when he saw Joel walking back to the house and you took them off.

"C'mere" Joel pulls you onto his lap, spreading your legs to straddle him. Joel kisses you deeply, holding your body tight to his. "Thank you, babygirl..." He mutters into your skin. After dinner, Joels fucks you into the bed, paying more attention to you than normal.

He baths and dresses you, laying you down for a nap noticing you're more tired than normal lately.

When you wake up, Joel is gone, but you notice something next to your bed.

Joel put together a bouquet of pinecones and pine leaves from an evergreen, held together with a scrap of ribbon and a note.

"Happy valentines day" ********************

Oh, Joel....

For the record, Lorenzo snuck out to see Zach too <3

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

[chirpsythismorning]

What do you think about ST writers staying silent when it comes to homophobia in fandom? I've seen some people talking about this and I have to agree that it is getting toxic, and the creators can say something about it. This issue is not about shipping, it is a serious issue that needs to be addressed in this fandom.

I get this, I really do, but there is a reason they don't bring a bunch of attention to the negative and it's the same reason most of the cast tries to not bring attention to the negatives going on that they experience.

This reminds me of when Noah came out for example. A lot of fans were congratulating him with support and stuff. But that didn't last long bc suddenly everyone in the tag was fixating on the negatives they were seeing, reposting homophobic comments he was getting and just freaking out on a loop over harmful shit going on. Some fans even made like plot twist edits of hateful comments he had under his coming out video and Noah himself commented on one of them, like alluding to the fact that he tries to not let it get to him.

When you're in these peoples positions, you're hearing about god awful stuff happening constantly. And that makes sense, when you have an audience of hundreds of millions of people, shit goes down. ALL the time.

And so it gets to a point where, eventually you have to give up basically. I'm sure there was a time early on like in s1, when they might have felt the need to put the fans in check over certain harmful things. But it probably got so big they couldn't do that any more, simply for mental health reasons I wouldn't ask that of anyone.

Think about Finn who has been through some shitty fandom behavior over the years with fans obsessing over him and like essentially photoshopping a fake story about his gf SAing someone. Did he come forward and talk about that? No bc fans like that don't even deserve the attention. And while yes, it's clear that he feels like grateful about this experience, it's also clear he has an intense sense of bitterness over the fact that having millions of fans means that there are bound to be quite a few who don't understand boundaries. And yet it's gotten to a point where acknowledging them only makes them stronger.

And then there's Caleb, who experienced fucking racism as a child simply for his character getting in the way of milkvan... And he only recently over the last year or so has felt comfortable enough to start talking about it more. And it's probably because he was in large part not wanting to re-hash over stuff that is obviously traumatizing and just not fucking fair for him to have to discuss in the first place. He deserves for this to be an incredible experience. He shouldn't have to give any of his time and attention to people that don't fucking deserve it in the first place. He deserves better than that.

And then there's Millie who has also been through a lot, to the point where it's like near impossible to even pinpoint everything because it's just so much. And she has the biggest following on social media so that makes a lot of sense. Her fandom experience is a large part of why she doesn't really use social media anymore. She used to love interacting with fans, but now it's just not something she can handle. Not only does she have to deal with people that hate her for no apparent reason, she also has to deal with so called fans psychoanalyzing anything and everything she does, to the point where they're convinced they know everything about her and her boyfriend and her family, as if they know what's best for her? Like imagine not having a space anywhere despite having millions of people say they love you, when they just turn around and treat you like a product to be consumed and discarded? It's exhausting.

All of them have a story like that, that just makes you realize that this is so much bigger than ship wars and any nonsense fans obsess over. Sometimes we forget these are real people and they have to see this and it obviously effects them mentally over time to the point where they just can't acknowledge it anymore in order to simply live their lives peacefully.

Now, I'm not saying the Duffers will never address the homophobia, bc they no doubt will. However, I think that in large part the point is to let these homophobes especially feel like they are superior and have the upper-hand, only to rip it out from under them basically.

And that's because we're also talking about a show that is hiding the truth in plain sight. This show is in fact for the so called freaks and geeks (and the gays). And so when that truth is finally revealed, THAT'S when they're going to call the bigots out on their bullshit. Because this show was never for them in the first place! And making them tune in for all of it, convinced it was for them all this time, only to find out it wasn't, I'm sorry but it's fucking badass.

If they're hiding that core message in plain sight, and yet most of the audience STILL doesn't see it, and it's also a big reason why they refuse to even consider byler, then yes it makes sense to hold off this scolding for when the reveal happens, only to throw all of that backlash on the people STILL being homophobic when it's all said and done, despite them saying it was all indeed intentional.

Right now there are genuine homophobes out here, and then there's people that are merely misunderstanding the extent of what's truly happening bc of heteronormativity, which is arguably the way the show was intended to be watched, assuming you're only watching it once through and you don't consume any more content regarding it much outside of that initial viewing (most of the ga). And then there's the fans who are literally queer and love queer stories, but aren't allowing themselves to believe it this time bc of how prevalent queer-baiting is.

By no means am I saying homophobia is okay. Obviously it's not. But people are homophobic, people are bigots. You can decide for yourself which situations you want to call it out and when you want to let it just be because otherwise you're gonna be fighting forever with people that do not fucking care, and that's not helping anyone, least of all queer people who would rather probably just ignore all of the noice and be happy being their authentic self, despite all of the hate that's out there.

We'll have to see how fans react to s5. I have hope that it will go well.. I do think that there could be a time period where people are like in denial and grieving or whatever. But we know the evidence is there. We know that the Duffers are going to be happy to admit that it was intentional to disprove the claims that try to say byler came out of nowhere.

Absolute worst case scenario, I think the critical reception will be something along the lines of this:

[breitzbachbea]

🌙☀️📣💡👑📦🚆☄️💘 for francesco ! (i love information i need more)

And how could I deny you!

Here's some fun bonus information, a panel taken from this comic by @cinalilli with Francesco smack dab in the middle of Team Italy. Shows his height relations to the rest quite well #shortking.

OC Emoji Questions

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

His greatest wish is too see as much of the world as possible and meet the most interesting people on this earth - which are most people to him - and see all the extremes this human world has to offer. And he's willing to go far for it. Lie and steal to make it possible, break into areas no one is supposed to be, e.g. climbing on top of the Collosseum at night. Toy with other people's life to see how they react under pressure, with only so much regard of how much harm it causes. You have to break geodes to see the pretty insides, after all.

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

Considering how much he gets up to at night, I think he tends to wake up at 9 am or sleep in even further, depending on when he went to bed. He usually wakes up, goes to the bathroom and grabs breakfast before he actually gets ready and dressed. Depends of course if he gets breakfast at home or at work/at a bar.

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

LOUD. To be fair, he doesn't come into a room unaware that he's booming, he's doing that a lot on purpose. Most of the time he's got an average volume and speaks as the situation calls for it, but when he gets excited or upset, he does get louder.

He has a very noticeable Neapolitan accent in Italian, when he isn't speaking Neapolitan outright to himself - his English is accented as well, even if less so. He tends to, again, speak to people in their language/in the way he wants to be perceived by them, but tends to stay more on the informal side or poetic waxing rather than overly stilted or clinically to the point.

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

Francesco lives in the moment, but he does plan - in the sense that he calculates outcomes and the necessary parts to achieve them. He never writes anything down, it all stays in his head, but when he works with others, the other person usually writes down the plan they hash out. (If it's Fabio or Dolcetto at least - Gabriella and Lovino sometimes write things down, but Lovi also rather lets others do this and when he's with Feli, Franci has to jot some things down because of Feli's adhd.)

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

He enjoys the notoriety he has achieved in parts of the European underground, but he doesn't have many plans for cultural and social immortality. What he really wants to be remembered as is 'that magnetically charming weirdo you met on your holiday once.' He wants that plenty of versions of him, his zest for life, lives on other people's life, even if they're complete strangers. It meshes with his philosophy that from the micro to the macro, you can find the beauty and fascination of humanity in everything. As time goes on with him as part of Team Italy, he also wants to be remembered as a good friend and lover to those closest to him.

📦 PACKAGE - what's some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

Most likely to smooch the enemy, much to Lovino's dismay. (He wants to fuck Michele so bad, just because Miché hates his guts and Franci likes his gusto). Most likely also to end up in the deepest shit, at the same time most likely to get away with most troublesome behaviour without having to pay the price. Who could be angry with this guuuuy?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

A lot of people assume Francesco is just a loving macho who runs his mouth but can't or wouldn't back it up. They are mistaken about the backing it up part but right about everything else. Others think that his happy, earnest joy and whimsy is simply a façade that covers up a cruel cunt of an overly curious manipulator. They are mistaken about his joy and whimsy being fake, but right there there IS an overly curious manipulator as well.

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

Excitement! Francesco has never earnestly dated (not counting teenage school romances) before Dolcetto, but he loves loving. He doesn't have a physical type nor really one when it comes to personality, though someone stubborn in one way or another can always be a fun challenge. And someone horny's always good, because my god, he's horny too. To be in love, to indulge what you become when you tie yourself to someone else, and be it only for a night, is part of being human, which he loves!

In Italian, there's the expression of colpo di fulmine (a bolt of lightning/lightningstruck) and I think he does believe in love on first sight in that way. There's just people you feel immediately drawn to, there's a spark - whether you want to call that love isn't that important to him. That's the way he feels about Feliciano, one of his bosses and the man he acts as right hand and bodyguard to. Something about Feliciano's upbeat nature draws him in.

[theodoraflowerday]

young royals s3e3 episode reaction

episode 3 is where everything always turns to shit so I'm super not looking forward to this lmfao

ohoho the queen of sweden is having a nervous breakdown. so relatable of her.

I'm lowkey also having a breakdown over wille immediately going into prince mode just bc his mom isn't doing well.

"why do you think I didn't tell you anything? because you wouldn't be able to handle it" NNNNNOOOOOOOO

oh my god that one hit WAY too hard. I can't deal with the mommy issues today.

ugh deeply agreeing with wille. simon needs to lock his social media and throw his phone away. he's starting to stress me the fuck out.

"both for me and the people around me" oh that's... quite the sentence. I know simon just got sucker punched by the fact that it's always gonna be like this

"all I want is to be with you" well you can't!

bro I hate teenagers so fuckin much lmfao

NOT BORIS WANTING TO PSYCHOANALYZE AUGUST

that was psychic warfare from wille idc

"he's decided that I'm evil" lmao you are

"I don't see the point in being nice if he's never gonna forgive me" "well, sometimes being nice to others can make you feel very good" JDKFJDLFJDKFJDKFDJKDOGIDL BORIS LOVE OF MY LIFE

THAT IS SO SHADYYYYYY LMFAO

I genuinely cannot stand vincent. if there's anyone in that school who's legit evil it's gotta be vincent.

oh. yeah. I'm feeling murderous.

fuck you country of sweden you know what you did.

FREDRIKA TYING UP HER HAIR TOO WHEN THE HOUSEMASTER CALLS FELICE OUT OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD

god. teenage girls make the world go round.

NOT WITH THE SCHOOL INSPECTORS PRESEEEEENTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

NOOOOO SKRKSJRLSKFLSKFLSKDLSKDLD

YOU TWO KEEP REHEARSING

NOT PLAYING A SINGLE KEY AND HUMMING SIFKDLFKSLFKSLFKSLFKDLFKDLFF

oh my god my baby boys

it's the fact that them being so public means that not one (1) person in that room believed they were "rehearsing" jdkfjdlfjdlfjdl

the crown prince alone in a soundproof room with his boyfriend? sure.

god that was HILARIOUS

"I just wish I could get a single moment with you without getting interrupted" [get interrupted]

cinema

of course vincent is going to LA. my bro is going to be an oscar winner in no time, given all the dramatics.

oh

oh sweet jesus

simon, this is NOT the time or place to die on the labor movement hill

oh god

man being a teenager was so exhausting I'm so glad I don't have to do anything like that again

when they eat the rich I hope vincent is first in the grill

I hope felice singlehandedly closed the school lmao

I don't wanna like the whole sara and micke thing I really don't but UGH it's so sweet.

oh

OH

oh he's not is he

IS HE FUCKING

BROOOOOOOOOOO THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY

"he seems nice" oh august you are so clueless

this isn't happening skfkdkgkdkflf

oh my god what is it with royal boys and going "you're the only one I can talk to" y'all can afford a therapist can't you

NOT THE BAKING OHHHHH MY BABIES

"you may have inherited my diagnoses, sara, but you're not me" oh fuck

bro I am like. super into sara and micke hashing shit out, neurodivergently

I can't take wille seriously in the chorus. I cannot. he's so funny

oh god sara is coming back

oh fuck me up I love it when they're all sun kissed and beautiful and have nice lil conversations in front of everyone bc they're boyfriends publicly ohohoho

oh

oh my god

oh is that gonna be the hallway scene

not august waving at sara??? bro get up????

omg the looks from stella and fredrika were SCATHING

not them skipping and swinging their hands together you guys I'm losing my whole damn mind it's getting bad it's getting so bad

WHOOOOOOOREEEEESSSSSSS

OOHHH MY GOD

holy fuck that was....... quite the scene huh

um

let me rewind just now for a lil bit

for science

my brothers in christ you are sluts.

something abt them getting to have slutty slutty sex and finishing off with an I love you heals something in me that has been broken since 2021 ngl

like look at them! they're my boys!!! they're in love and they get to have somewhat public (bc like, a hallway? really?) sex bc they're together and everyone knows!!! they love each other and they can express that in a physical form!!!!! my little strumpets!!!!!!!

ah. fucking figures, huh

of course, thanks micke

oh they're in the literal and metaphorical afterglow!!!!! I love this for them

oh that's not a great train of thought to have after sex now is it

"you can trust me" wille, my love my darling, I love you, truly, from the bottom of my heart, but can he? can he really?

oh that's an actually genius move to show both sides of the coin

I do think simon probably should not be there. son's gonna get too much attention

oh I just remembered the episode description a hahahahahahahaahahahahahaha ha oh I don't want to watch

that was precious but I swear to god simon think with your brain for once aaaaaaaaaa FUCK

great now she just posted his location. and he also fully reposted it didn't he

is he genuinely that dumb like at this point even if you're not famous by proxy you still should know not to post your live location?????? Simon. please.

oh right I forgot the monarchy can't be seen involved with that...... I was more worried abt his safety ldjfldjfldkf

oh

oh no

I was right to worry about his safety

FUUUUUUCK

ugh

[bcyoureallthatmakessense]

I had a falling out with one of my closest friends a few years back. They dated my cousin and the last time they broke up was really really bad. I gave them space, let them know I was there for them when they needed me bc I love them yk?

Well the following Feb, I was really in a bad headspace - my bipolar was coming hard and fast and was suddenly unmanageable but I didn't realize it yet, i just knew that i was a wreck and it was only getting worse. I deactivated my facebook and closed myself off from everyone.

But then on their bday they rather aggressively messaged me basically asking me why I hadn't spoken to them (I was waiting for them to talk to me - yes I could have reached out but again... I was going thru some shit), and like "you weren't even going to wish me a happy birthday? You just kind of abandoned me"

I explained that I was going thru some shit and couldn't deal w the confrontation and asked for space. Well I still wasn't doing well about 10 mos later and had reactivated all my soc med and had been watching snap stories and accidentally watched theirs and they got really mad about it and we hashed it out and I spoke my piece and they still were only blaming me for everything that went wrong in our relationship (I admitted my faults, they did not - kept pushing it all on me, it fucking sucked)

And yet

My heart aches for them. To know if they're happy and well. And I miss them so bad sometimes. Sometimes they appear in my dreams and we're friends again and have moved past it. And idk

It just goes to show that people love SO hard and SO deep and idk.

Idk what I needed to accomplish here but here have my word vomit if you made it here thanks lmao

[elderemorune]

A Wild Blog Post Appears!

Quick warning, I mention some CSA. Nothing graphic, but still, fair to mention.

Cue battle music!

Man, Gold, Silver and Crystal were really something. But Pokemon isn't the point of today's post, it's more lamentations about my blood family!

Hooray...

By and large, my life isn't very confusing. I wake up, put the dog out, help my wife get ready for school, brew coffee, and sit down for work, right at 9:00 AM. I do my day job, (which today involves fixing myriad issues on a project), get distracted, get back to work, take a call from my content writer or my boss, shoot the shit for too long, get back to work, get distracted again, get to work, continue the cycle until 5:00 PM, whereupon I move from one spot on the couch to another, watch anime until I'm bored while my wife does homework, watch an episode of Star Trek with my roommate, play FF14 until about 11:00, and go to bed.

This is my usual workday.

My content writer is my mom, and my boss is my dad.

I have a fantastic professional relationship with them. But my personal relationships with them are... Tepid, I'd say.

Don't get me wrong, I fucking love my folks, and I know they love me, which is a damn sight more than too many people can say. It's just that abuse is so hard to recover from, you know?

This part of my life is what confuses me. Every time I need my mom, she has a tendency of disappearing. My dad's not even a remotely safe choice for emotional support.

I don't let them know about my personal life much anymore. Sometimes I try, but then I'm reminded why I can't. Like yesterday, with Ruth. I was so angry, and I just needed my mom for a minute. She was asleep, which is fine! I understand the need for a nap, and my mom's always been pretty sleepy. It's just that she was gone again when I needed her. I can't recall the last time I was able to rely on her outside of work. To her credit, she did text me later to ask me if I was okay. By that point, I was, and told her such. Maybe it's selfish of me to wish she'd picked up when I called twice to ask for help, but I can't help that. A child always wants their mom.

In our work though, she's great! Present, asking good questions, makes sure she understands what the end goal of a project is, honestly lovely to work with! She's very communicative about progress on stuff I need in order to do my job too!

I have no positive memories of my dad from when I was a kid. We've been over this a little, no need to re-hash it here.

As a boss though, again, fantastic. Very communicative, very receptive to what I have to say in regards to my role, expectations are clear, I straight up cannot work for a boss who is not at least as good as my dad. The company offers unlimited PTO, long as I get my shit done, the pay is less than someone else in my role would be making but that's only because the company is paying me what it can afford (I know the books, I know this to be certified fact). There isn't any corporate culture for me to have to work around, instead allowing me to work with the necessary adjustments for my ADHD and no need to ask HR if I can wear my headphones.

But this is why it's so damn confusing. In a professional world, they're ideal, at least for me. But why couldn't they be parents like this? Why can't they?

I dunno.

It's hard to process, you know? Emotional neglect, favoritism out the ass (My folks have spent my entire life being TERRIFIED of my sister), unreasonable punishments, beatings, constantly having to walk on eggshells, is it any fucking wonder that I'm anxious all the time? Hell, even now the favoritism is still happening. The only reason it's not happening in my face is because I fucking left.

Why couldn't my dad have at least had this level of professional decorum as a landlord when my sister decided that she was going to have more animals than our lease (that HE wrote) allowed? Where was this attention when I was coming home in tears daily because of the torment I was receiving at school from both students AND admin? Where was the patience for my disability when I struggled with math homework because I could do the stuff in my head, but not on paper?

Where was this understanding last year when I decided to give a statement to the FBI about their former friend grooming me? They told me that it wasn't worth digging up again, and tried to convince me to just leave it alone. They said it was to protect my own mental health, but all it showed me was that they don't know me.

Now when we visit, my mom hugs me, and I have a hard time hugging her back. There's a warmth there that feels so fucking alien that it's hard to accept it. Dad, at least, doesn't opt for physical affection, resorting instead to gifts. While I certainly don't mind my 3D printer, it came with needing to spend time in person with him, and time in person with him that isn't for something specific always ends with me getting hurt somehow.

You know, like him saying that he's conservative because he has money and he'd like to keep it, but still 'understanding' why I'm liberal and that it's because I don't have the resources he does. Or accusing my wife of being racist when she said that Jay Leno's hiring practices for writers were racist.

Why are they like this?

Is it really just a WASP thing?

Who even knows, man.

[handypolymath]

Having just read it, yeah...I think I may need another go-around to ponder things like:

The morphine withdrawal scenes: sensitively written and illuminates the characters, but without any real emotional connection between them, like, he's got a protocol he's familiar with and he's happy to help a youngster out of a jam, but it's also kind of a freebie way to press Gabrielle hard while not upsetting the paying client.

'Curse on your mother's side, whatever. You're also your father's child, and he may not have started fights, but he certainly ended them, and you have that strength.'

You eat one guy and they never let you live it down.

The eugenics/phrenology fake-out re: some of Gabrielle's features? Hammett can really sketch a pastiche of a character, often pieces of work with their own internal tensions even as a walk-on, but also with period typical -isms, so I was leery of where he was going with this. People look all kinds of ways and it's mainly what you do with what you're dealt, e.g., one can also use one's charisma and pleasing aesthetics to be an egotistical if sometimes amusing shit bag.

The whole west coast cult grift being an old chestnut a century ago -- if it were a tv series/season, this would be the animated Scooby-Doo ep.

The treatment of Minnie is so disappointing; the misogynoir tanks the noise to signal ratio, and I feel like Hammett shortcuts his way out of that section with a proto 70s television take on "brainwashing".

I'm not disappointed that Eric gets shoved off a cliff. Should've clutched a sturdier tree instead of your pearls my dude.

Of course Maria the cook stashed a knife on her person, she is not daft, unlike the Agency dolts who are all, "Oh no, the local woman we hired to sling hash at our safe house is armed!" You- you're eating her food. That she prepared in a whole room full of many fine implements and hazards. It's clear you trust her at least as far as you can chuck a proposed kitchen rota.

It's a 7-layer dip of batshit and I still can't decide how cohesive it is. Very interesting to feel the resonance with the cyberpunk I used to read.

Dashiell Hammett - The Dain Curse - Penguin - 1966 (photograph by Bob Brooks)

[lukowrites]

1 hour free write – Dopamine baby

Nathan McDermott lived at home, he always had, felt he always would. Around 3pm he would usually wake, tired despite getting his 8 hours. Sometimes he’d jerk off his waking boner, other times he’d go straight to the kitchen and sate another hunger. Brafternoon tea – eggs, bacon strips, beans, toast, hash browns or potato gems, and toast to soak it all up, sipping a coffee or two while he ate. During his breakfast he often paused to take a shit, coming back to a tepid plate that he’d begrudgingly continue. Wasting food was a sin. Chucking the plate on the floor, or around his desk, he reached over and swizzled off the cap to his flavoured vodka. Pouring himself a generous helping, mixing it with warm canned lemonade he had stashed under his desk, he sipped while scrolling the forums and fondling himself.

Sometimes he’d let out his frustration by raging about pointless trash to easy targets, unsure if he wanted a response, or would hate to receive one. Other times he’d boot up a video game, combing through every nook and cranny, but either way, he’d lose track of time, which was the primary goal, to forget about life. This habitual routine, a pattern of congregated joyless urges feeding off each other, steered his life. Glancing out towards the window, seeing the birds, something resonated and pulled him in. He’d long forgotten and devalued how the sunshine and the outside can revivify, instead, he only felt hopelessness and defeat at the sight. That was a place for others, people stronger than him, born lucky, or with a strength he was far from attaining. Much too far, the thought alone of climbing out of his pit exhausted him, he was always exhausted of course, and the smallest steps were a massive effort. Thoughts too exhausting to let germinate, quickly nipped in the bud.

He checks the time, 7pm. Too late to do anything outside, just as the midday energy of his brafternoon tea kicks in. Oh well.

Take a load off brother, life is about having fun. Don’t stress yourself. Dinner will be ready soon, I think mum’s making tacos. Still time for another fap. Just don’t look at your body, and don’t let your arm brush against your ballooning man-tits too much, all distractions we don’t need. That’s it, let us assume control. Speak to me, as if you speak to another, fracture yourself and blame the other, when you’re an inner child beheld to the other, you don’t need to grow up. Poor thing. Eat your din dins.

Time for more games! So much trauma. They’re not excuses, they’re reasons. You’re very logical. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 9pm, let’s relax. Have some more drink, put on a show, don’t cry, I’m right here. I know what you need. Dopamine, baby.

Nathan. WAKE UP! GET UP AND DO SOMETHING! YOU’RE PATHETIC! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND AND GIMME 20 RIGHT NOW! FUCKING DO IT DO IT DO ITT DO ITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!

1…2…3……4……….

That was a pretty good effort. Not bad. Still pretty pathetic though. Have another drink, maybe a smoke? I know you quit, but times are tough, and you don’t wanna live forever. Let’s go for a walk, that’s productive right?

The moon was beautiful in blurred vision. Stumbling gracefully like in Zui Quan, dancing around, bottle in hand, he weaves his way in bliss through the night. Sip. A sudden burning sensation, he sits down, pulling up grass and feeling it between his fingers, performing a cross-section, analysing carefully, before scrunching it up in a ball and throwing it in the air. Maybe some sit-ups?

1….2….3…..4……5……..6…….7………8…………9……………10!

Fuck yeah! That was hard, but you can keep this up. You’ll be fit in no time.

11pm. Nathan goes back inside, tired and sweaty, enjoying the feeling mixed with a little drunken carelessness and daydreaming, he stumbles back to his computer chair and plops himself down. Now what?

Another sip of vodka down, he moans while getting out of his chair. Making it to the kitchen, he opens up the fridge and leans on the door heavily, assessing the inventory. Feeling zany, he fishes out a store-bought pre-made salad, healthy AND tasty, along with a large bag of BBQ crinkle cut chips from the pantry, and retreats to his room. He opens up a 3 hour video on pizzagate, enjoying the demoralisation as a sobering reminder of the world and people he hates/avoids, munching down his snack to the twisted crayon drawings of traumatised trafficking-victims. The hate spiral continues down, trapped by G-force, he plunges deeper.

I hate these people. I want them all to burn, I wish a flood would swallow the Earth and kill everyone. There’s nothing I can do. Hopeless, hopeless, AHHHHHHH.

He smashes the desk with a thumping fist, clattering the empty cups and plates together. 2am. Fuck this, time for a distraction, I can’t sleep like this. Nathan opens up a game, killing time and enemies. His head hurts. The hangover coming fast, he takes a big gulp of vodka. The placebo effect immediate, dilatory distraction resumes. He feels the buzz, his eyes growing heavy, his headache still pressing but mixed with tingling.

4am. Nathan opens up his messages. Nothing. He checks his bank account, $5.64, 3 days til pay day.

What’s your ex doing? Probably curled up against someone right now. Remember your dead dog? Remember that time you were alone with the teacher? Your parents hate you. You’ll never amount to anything. Who are you anyway? Imagine how peaceful death is. What’s the easiest way to kill yourself? Are you happy? I know what you need. Go to sleep, dreams are nice. Don’t think about tomorrow. Take it one day at a time. If you still feel like shit then, maybe do something about it. You probably will anyway, but you’ve still got some booze left. That’ll tide you over. I guess you don’t wanna die after all, at least not yet.  

5am, Nathan gets into bed, too tired to stay awake, he passes out. He doesn’t dream.