#don't mind me posting drafts from THREE FUCKING YEARS AGO

[melodie-mingi]

에이티즈 (ATEEZ) - 190618 SBS THE SHOW ~ ILLUSION [HONGJOONG]

mélodie-mingi © - do not steal or repost.

[dumplingsjinson]

Let me just uh, set some hard fucking boundaries with some of you people in regards to MY relationship.

Do not keep questioning my choices on MY relationship.

First of all, you're not in this relationship. Let me mess up and find out, if worse comes to worst. Let me fuck around and find out. I'm not going to blame you for not warning me, don't worry. Seriously. So stop questioning me.

Don't keep asking me, "Why don't you label things with him? I think it's bullshit that there are no labels. What's the POINT of this relationship if you're not labelled as such and such? You're just wasting your time. Stop that. It's weird. This doesn't seem right to me. Why call it exclusive if there's no labels?"

Let me fucking date how I want, damn. Let me be in a goddamn relationship how I want, without me needing to explain myself to you. You, who I don't even know. You, who's not even a mere acquaintance of mine. Even my friends aren't questioning me, so who are YOU to question me when you know virtually NOTHING about our relationship?

Why are YOU, as someone who doesn't know the full fucking picture, trying to enforce your rigid little rules onto ME? If you like labels and only commit strictly with someone once those labels are established, good for you! Do you!

But don't go on the internet, read the stuff someone shares (which doesn't paint the whole picture, mind you, because I'm not sharing my whole goddamn life biography on here) and then go running into their inbox and yell at them for their choices, or because their choices differs from yours. Don't do that because you don't KNOW them. Don't act like you know everything from the small details you've read. Yes, I share things on here, but only things I'm comfortable sharing. Surface level shit, basically.

What you think is normal isn't always someone else's normal. Please remember that.

The way some of you act in my inbox... It's embarrassing at best and disgustingly rude and kind of intrusive and also insulting at worst. And because you've got the anon feature on, you think you can just say anything. (That's a whole other rant I've been wanting to get off my chest. I've got a few drafts I've never posted that are from months ago lmfao).

Now, to tone down the aggressiveness for a fraction of as second, I get you care about me and it's probably coming from a good place, but I am TWENTY. THREE.

Let me remind you.

TWENTY THREE.

Not three.

Not thirteen.

TWENTY. FUCKING. THREE.

I can make my own decisions. I am a legal adult, probably moreso than some of you out here coming into my inbox and full on trying to start an interrogation with me like I did something wrong for wanting to do things MY way for MY relationship.

And SLIGHTING me for my choices is where I'm setting the hard boundary at.

DO NOT, and I repeat:

DO NOT...

...under any circumstances, come into my inbox and act like I'm a dumb fucking bitch. (I am a dumb fucking bitch, but I'm also a self aware dumb fucking bitch. There's a difference.)

I know what I'm doing, I know the consequences, I know what I'm in for. I'm not fucking stupid and naive. I'm not a 13 year old about to start her first relationship with her high school crush.

So stop treating me like a donkey, and stop questioning my choices. Remember, as harsh as this sounds, some of you need to hear this and REALISE this: You've got no place in my life to do that. Absolutely fucking none.

Learn to read the room and learn that there are lines that shouldn't be crossed.

OH, I need to add this here. Before some of you come into my inbox and ask me WHY I'm sharing shit if I'm not open to opinions on my choices... There's a difference between opinions and civil discussions, and crossing someone's boundaries and questioning their choices because you think YOUR way of doing things is the right way to do things.

Just because I share some stuff on here doesn't mean that warrants you an automatic pass to shit on my choices. Fuck that bullshit, because that's just shitty behaviour and you need to look inwards and realise you're doing a lot more harm than good by being a piece of shit to someone you essentially do not know.

Remember, if you won't say this shit to someone in real life while looking them in the eyes, then don't fucking say it on anon in some stranger's inbox. That's a dick move, and you're a prick if you do that. Fix yourself, for the sake of humanity.

That is all.

[cherrytree-irl]

ooc post: random useless facts 2

i'm low on ideas again so it's time for brain sludge.

i guess i'll start by talking about the christmas event i wrote half of and then scrapped.

the event was going to involve N and sylvan going to driftveil for a holiday party, with sylvan reluctantly bringing his father along (because, y'know, people like spending holidays with family or whatever.) and hoping he wouldn't cause problems.

then vernon would cause problems. (he was gonna find out about N's involvement with team plasma.)

i couldn't really think of a good way to resolve said problems, though. part of the reason i didn't finish writing this event. also because i waited too long to start writing it so i didn't have time to think it through or actually write half of it

also linnet was gonna come back. she wouldn't really have a major role, but she'd be there! and latios too, of course.

oh well. i can rework the important stuff into some other event later.

anyway, on to other stuff.

there are not very many sylvans in the multiverse. most universes just... never had one and never will. of the sylvans that have existed, even fewer of them are alive.

not from like, any one specific cause. just most of them Fucked Up somewhere along their journeys.

some real world pokemon games exist within sylvan's universe. mostly ones that don't have human characters, like mystery dungeon and rumble. (miis don't count as human characters they're just player avatars. sorry miis ily :p)

sylvan's brother, oliver, was originally planned to be a bartender. but then i decided to incorporate him into my other pkmn irl blog that i barely use, and there was no reason for the characters i play on that blog to crash land in the pokemon world and immediately go straight to the bar. so he runs a cafe now.

speaking of oliver. sylvan's name was originally oliver. then eventually i decided the name didn't suit him, so i picked out a new one and later gave his old name to his older brother.

sylvan is vegetarian in theory, but usually vegan in practice, since N is vegan and it would be needlessly pricey to buy both vegan and non vegan versions of applicable foods.

he usually does at least have a pack of mac and cheese cups in the apartment though. saves them for when he's sad or stressed or just really wants some damn mac and cheese.

at some point, i thought about secretly having this blog take place a few years in the future. it was kind of just a cheap way to make sylvan easier for me to write, since i would basically be making him the same age as me.

but then i thought. if i ever actually publicly established the fact that the blog took place in 2030, people might start asking questions about what the future is like and stuff and i realized doing this would be causing more difficulties than it would solve.

on new years, when i'd received the egg that would eventually become Idele, i asked my cousin what should be in it.

he said to put a shiny drizzile in it. i told him, "you can't put a drizzile in an egg, dumbass" so he reluctantly changed his answer to shiny sobble.

i then asked my sister for her opinion. she said a shiny cherubi. i guess she had caught one in legends arceus recently, so it was on her mind. but sylvan already has a cherrim, so i didn't really wanna do that.

so i eventually just. picked neither of those options and went for hisuian zorua because It's Cool.

months ago, when i was trying to decide what sort of character(s) to center my possible future pkmn irl blog around, i had three different ideas.

the first was, y'know... sylvan. since he was a pokemon character i had already made. but i worried that people wouldn't find him interesting or that they'd get mad about him dating N. so i tried to think of something else.

my second idea was for a latias disguising herself as a human because... reasons? i didn't have that part worked out yet. (so, like, a first draft version of linnet. and linnet was only like, a second draft version of linnet.) i kinda just didn't have enough enthusiasm about playing that character for an extended period of time, i guess.

my third idea was for a crossover blog. i thought it would be funny to bring a character from yo-kai watch into the pokemon world. for some reason the first that came to mind was komasan. he's not even like, my favorite yo-kai or anything...? (venoct, if you were wondering. which you probably were not.) anyway i wasn't confident enough in my ability to write as him, so the idea was dropped.

eventually i settled on sylvan despite my previous concerns. then i had to decide where in his story i wanted to place the blog.

the main three points in time i was considering were...

1. a few years ahead of his sort of... base form. like, when i think of sylvan, i think of him at 21, right after bw2. but i wanted to move him forward a little if i was going with a "current" form of him. i do not remember why i made that decision, but whatevs. this is the version i chose.

2. when he was a teenager and just starting out his journey. N would not have been involved with this theoretical version of the blog. (unless it went on for... quite a while.) i dropped this because at the time i was writing a fic that covered that same point in his life. also because i wanted N to be there.

3. when he was traveling with N but they weren't romantically involved yet. would have involved Pining™ and going to random places and doing random stuff and syl being really confused (and somewhat concerned) about What The Hell N's Deal Is. i don't remember why i decided against this, it probably would have been a more interesting blog. maybe i just figured it would be easier to write sylvan when all the interesting stuff already happened to him, ha.

that's everything i can think of right now. so. post over

[graciliss]

Young Cadaver's Foxtrot - short story out now!

surprise everyone! I finally released some writing 🥴 this is obviously just yk. a small thing but it's a story I've kinda had lying around for a while and since it otherwise was gonna decay in my docs anyways I thought "fuck it, why not post it."

you can read the story right here!

it's a short horror story detailing a teen named luke and his brother, noah's move to a new neighbourhood and a mysterious line of dancing children spotted in the woods near their new home. the phenomenon and events following it fundamentally shake luke and his family.

feedback is much appreciated! below the cut you'll find some of my own commentary on the story, but please do read things first as this contains the themes and means of interpretation I personally put forth for this.

additionally if anybody wants me to post it on Tumblr too please let me know.

first of all I'm mad I spelled the word 'cadaver' wrong for the title page 💀 I only learned recently that it's cadaver and not cadavre so I'm malding. I'm so professional (/s)

however. onto actually author's notes:

the process

the idea kind of came to me all at once, really. it was roughly a year ago, I was at work and Kikuo's Corpse Dance was looped in my head while doing tasks and the ideas came from there. it was one of those stories that seemed a lot cooler in my head as fragmented key scenes LMAO. needless to say I wasted zero time getting the plot jotted down, and I believe I managed to finish the core story in a matter of two or three days.

what took me so long was the editing lol. the editing of this story was kind of hellish, with me trying to snip a few things out and failing to do so. however, the main change was the characterisation of noah.

he was written too.... normally in the beginning, and with the direction I was planning to go for the story, a relatively well-adjusted kid would not be the kind of person I had in mind as a victim to the dancing frenzy. instead, I decided upon writing him as already being established to be rather unstable.

what I additionally changed from the first draft was the dance itself. it seemed too comprehensible, too executable in the first draft (and I didn't want it to resemble Kikuo's MV too much). other than this, most changes were minor.

the ideas and themes

I had several concepts swirling about in my head while writing and editing this, though I don't know how I feel about the execution.

the main ones at play here, I'd say, are suicide, its signs leading up to it and the aftermath. you already know what happened to noah, and you now need to watch it unfold. the signs leading up to everything are obvious as a reader and is purposefully made to be agonising in this way.

additionally, there's luke and the fact that he was a bitter, angsty 15 year old. he makes incredibly stupid decisions... because he's 15. the amazing thing is I can blame everything on that (/j), and you then get the commentary of a now 20 year old luke on top of it, along with the guilt he continues to feel for everything, including things that ultimately were out of his control and not really his fault.

---

this commentary isn't really coherent icl. however I hope it does provide a little more insight to my writing process at the very least 👍 enjoy

[hideyseek]

6. 10, 11? For ur ao3 wrapped? Mehabs?

(im on mobile if something is weird. No it isnt)

bro ,,,,, im so sorry to report something was weird, i only saw this guy come in today he was not in my inbox before. apology for delay. but hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii yes thank you for the ask!!!!! of course i will answer i love to fucking TALK hehe :3

ao3 wrapped asks

6. Favorite title you used?

mmmm hehe. i'm gonna answer this based purely on title vibes as opposed to like "how well the title fits the fic" bc i wrote a bunch of shorter (to me) fics without a lot of internal thematic happenings that a title could reflect and so i don't really think of anything i published that a title is doing very much work.

i think my favorite title of anything published this year is i wish you the wind just because ah ... what a phrase! no idea what this means but it sounds so damn romantic to me! really has a flavor of like ... bittersweet farewell!

10. What work was the quickest to write?

mmm, haha. well, two answers to this i suppose. on one hand, there was keep me here which unfortunately i wrote in about one day from nothing (and therefore had approximately 12 minutes to revise) because i was determined to post SOMETHING for that day of kaze week 2023. but the first fic that came to mind (and perhaps the most accurate answer, time-wise) was my drabble from week 2 of inception wicked which came together in about three hours total drafting, but there was a span of several days (and truthfully several days that felt like several weeks lol) between me initially having the idea and sitting down to draft. but like, to be fair, it is about 400 words so revising goes exponentially quicker. truly this shocked even me, though i guess really what this means is i already was primed with a bunch of subconscious thoughts about the dynamic in this fic lol. (you can read it here on the gdoc with the other fics from that week! bc i haven't gotten around to posting on ao3 yet lol. content warnings for: semi-explicit sexual content, fantasizing about a married couple, voyeurism)

11. What work took you the longest to write?

hmm ... i don't know if there's a winner for anything i published, tbh. most of the rest of the kaze week fics from january kind of came together in a span of 3-5 days depending on the fic, and most of the other drabbles for both events came together in about the alotted week. so instead i'm going to gleefully misinterpret this question so i can talk about my beloved unpublished nemesis project, narrative!fic :3

i hate that guy! (<- said extremely lovingly) i probably earnestly worked on this fic for ... 4 or 5 months of this year? had a nice breakthrough for some story logic in august / september ish, outlined from that through october, and wrote pretty diligently for most of november. (i did tell my roommate fully two years ago, "hey you need to watch kazetsuyo so i can make you betaread this fic i'm writing at the end of the year, i'll watch star trek with you in exchange". that was literally 2021 lmao. they have not yet seen a draft bc there has not been a draft worth having anybody else look at yet.)

i think the thing that has made the process of drafting narrative!fic so long is really just that, for the last two-ish years, narrative!fic wasn't actually a story to me, so much as it was a project into which i dumped all my post-college facing-the-future feelings and loosely tied up with a string called "i'm sure i can make haiji go through this as well". but then, due to various life events in april of this year, suddenly i came back to the draft and it was like: oh. ohhh, okay. i can see how this can be a story, actually. this is about haiji, as a character, as opposed to haiji, as a semi-direct proxy for myself. and then over the next few months i cut out a ton of stuff and reworked his main arc and now it's like ... a story, instead of just a bunch of feelings and events. which, truly, is only my personal marker for what i was looking for from the project. like, i personally want a separation of my own experiences from what is in my fic, i want to be thinking about developments in the fic as narrative choices the story requires rather than as alternatives to how my own life could have gone. (which ultimately may well be the same thing but its the headspace im in, for me).

and i think the other part is just -- i didn't know how to write! i mean, obviously i know how to string words into a sentence lol. but a LOT of i guess the first two years of drafting and then setting all the drafted stuff aside to start again from scratch like four times over, was me learning to like, figure out my own longfic writing process. (big sobbing emoji, lmao. i remember in my youth reading about maggie stiefvater having 200k of unused draft material for one of the trc books and i was like, how??? and now i am like: yeah. unfortunately i get it. not that my tossed-out drafter material is of that specific magnitude. but there is a lot of it, goddamn.) and now that i've got at least an initial / foundational sense of it, the hardest part is only actually sitting down and writing. (i say as if this is not also, extremely challenging for me lol). so uh, i guess i'll say here "maybe this time next year i'll really have a full draft of narrative!fic", and. we'll see how that goes :3

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

Summary: You accidentally witness a murder, but the murderer takes pity on you. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: murder, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: i've been dying for a mafia au with zeke so here's part one of the series Vogel und Jäger. i have two more chapters drafted, and i'll try to post for this series weekly so i can write some moooore for it.

Bang!

The blood-curling sound was familiar to your ears. A gunshot — followed by the gurgling of a man.

Bang!

Another shot and the gurgling stopped. Panic settled in your heart, making you jump back and knock the metallic bin which served as a shield against the perpetrators.

Shit.

Footsteps drew closer and you began to pray. Running was futile. Running was always futile. Your throat was dry, your mascara was smeared all over your cheeks from all the tears, lips chapped and bleeding.

Our Father, who art in Heaven...

The cold muzzle of the gun pressed onto your forehead and you shivered, breath hitching, eyes glued to the wet pavement.

Hollowed be thy name...

The Mafia never spared any witnesses, you knew that all too well, even if you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Thy Kingdom come...

"Hey, boss, we got a girl."

"Kill her."

"No, please!" You threw yourself at the feet and mercy of the armed man. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm only nineteen!" Through the sobs, your voice was still melodious, syrupy. So sweet that the boss stopped in his tracks.

Thy will be done...

Another pair of footsteps approached, tentatively, not as eager as the first person. You still haven't looked up, too scared to even blink, to even breathe.

On earth, as it is in Heaven...

"Hand me the gun, Yelena."

"As you wish, boss."

You felt someone crouch down next to you, someone dressed in expensive clothing, by the look of the trousers and polished shoes.

Give us this day our daily bread...

"You've got a very pretty voice." He lifted your chin up with the barrel of the gun, chills running down your spine.

"T-thank y-you..."

"Can you sing, little bird?"

"Y-yes."

And forgive us our trespasses...

Finally, you looked at the perpetrator — spellbinding grey eyes, platinum blonde hair slicked back and a matching goatee. His gaze was either boring or pitiful.

"Lucky you, we're hiring."

As we forgive those who trespass against us...

Anxiety coiled in your stomach, words caught up in your throat. You were still praying, unaware if this was all a sadistic joke or a miracle.

And lead us not into temptation...

Dark lashes fluttered, more tears streaming down your beautiful face as the gears in your head turned in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening.

But deliver us from evil...

"Hiring?" Your voice went up an octave when you saw the small stag pinned to the man's chest. The Jaeger family — the most feared mafia family in Paradis City.

For thine is the kingdom...

"A pretty voice like yours shouldn't go to waste." He got up and offered you his hand.

And the power, and the glory...

Reluctantly, you took it, helping yourself up and chewing your lower lip.

For ever and ever...

"T-thank you!" You told him, slender fingers squeezing his hand tightly. "I owe you m-my life."

Amen.

"Correct. Your life, your soul, your eyes and ears." He walked you to a car and opened the door for you. "Yelena, take us to the club. We've got business to discuss with my little brother."

•°.•°.•°.•°

Your eyes wandered all over the soundproof office, situated one floor above and opposite the stage. Every inch of the bar, the seating areas, everything was visible from that room. You tapped a finger on the wide window, eyes narrowed at the idea that it might, in fact, be bulletproof. These men were not playing, and you were now their property. The door opened and you jolted at the sound of music filling the office as your saviour walked in with two other people.

"This is my younger brother, Eren. You already know Yelena. I assume you know my name."

You nodded.

"Zeke Jaeger."

"Good girl." Zeke was pleased with your answer as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

"I thought we didn't spare any witnesses." Eren shot you a look that made you regret being alive.

"Settle down, little brother. Tell us your name."

"Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/L/N." You swallowed, fingers fiddling with the hem of your blouse in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"You see, Eren, Y/N can sing." Zeke opened a drawer and pulled a gun out. More guns, more panic. Your eyes widened and your plump lips quivered when he aimed the gun at you with one hand, glass of alcohol in the other. "Sing or I paint the walls with your brains."

Your legs almost gave in at the threat — you knew it wasn't an empty one, and with all the courage you could muster, you closed your eyes and sang the first song that came to your mind, fucking Kiss from a Rose.

Your voice seemed to coat the people with honey, all three of them somewhat relaxing at the sweet sounds coming from your vocal cords.

"See, I told you she can sing." Zeke put the gun back in the drawer and closed it, swirling the bourbon in his glass before finishing it.

"Where do you live?" Eren crossed his arms, still suspicious of you.

"Historia's." You told him, eyes drifting to the ugly fur rug on the floor.

"The orphanage?"

"Yes."

"But you said you're nineteen." Zeke intervened, a brow quirked at you.

"I am. I try to help as much as possible in exchange for a bed and a roof over my head." You explained, eyeing the white couch that looked so incredibly comfortable.

"Just sit down already." Eren scoffed and you rushed to the furniture, mumbling thank you’s over and over.

"And why were you on that street tonight?" Yelena spoke for the first time since you came to the club. You looked at her and she seemed just as suspicious about you as Eren.

"I... the man you k-killed... he was... I'm-"

"A prostitute." Zeke nonchalantly interrupted you.

It was true. People like you, orphans, didn't have the privilege of being properly educated and finding well-paid jobs. Paradis was a jungle, and you did everything you could to survive. Everything.

"Well on the bright side you don't have to do that anymore." Zeke shrugged as he sunk deeper in his chair, feet on the desk, but you sensed he wasn't entirely honest. "You do have a beautiful voice, and our last girl had some... business to attend to, so you'll be taking her place."

"Is this why you called me here?" Eren sighed, leg impatiently shaking.

"Don't be stupid, of course not. I need Armin to prepare this month's tax reports and I need you to keep an eye on the police. They're sticking their nose in our business again, and I want them out of it. You two can go. Y/N, you stay." Zeke waved his hand and Eren and Yelena left, music briefly filling the office again.

You twiddled with the cushion in your lap, waiting for your new boss to say something. Being in that room was nerve-wracking, and you felt the air grow thick. Eventually Zeke took off his glasses, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

"Sir?" You dared, voice feeble and frail.

"What?" He clicked his tongue and you instantly regretted speaking.

"Sir, I'm not educated, but I've been on the streets long enough to know that every man or woman has a purpose..." You placed the cushion back. "...and a price. What's my purpose? I doubt it's only to sing."

Zeke nodded, fingers tracing the wooden desk.

"You're right, it isn't just to sing. It's to distract."

"Distract who? And from what?"

"You're asking an awful lot of questions for someone who's just witnessed a murder. You best not go to the police." He narrowed his eyes, piercing your soul. You sighed and walked to the desk, taking a seat opposite Zeke.

"It's not... my first murder." You confessed to him.

"Oh? My dear, you're full of surprises. Pray, tell. Drink?"

"Yes please." You answered, throat dry as a desert. "I can't go to the police. And even if I could, I wouldn't." The drink earned a disgusted look from you, but it was better than nothing. "Two years ago, I ended someone's life. He deserved it, he broke into Miss Historia's orphanage and tried to... to..."

"I understand." Zeke stopped you. "And if you go to the police, they'd do a background check on you." He continued, satisfied that he had a leverage in case you decided to turn against him.

"Exactly. And Historia helped me so much, I wouldn't want to put her in danger. So, I'm asking again, distract who from what?"

Zeke walked to the window, telling you to follow him. He pointed at two men, a tall blond one, and a short brunette one.

"See those two? They're policemen. They work for us, but we suspect they're double agents." He explained before pointing at three other men. "Those we suspect of being Marleyan mobsters. You see, Y/N, we have a lot of enemies. And we must keep our guard up every second of our lives."

You nodded, perfectly understanding Zeke's words. Paradis was a chess board and only the filthy rich played — the rest of you were pawns.

"Sir, you spared my life, and I know I can't ask for anything in return. But please, please don't drag Miss Historia into this. The children there did nothing wrong." Tears pooled at your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and you wiped them with the back of your hand. "I swear my loyalty to you."

"For someone uneducated, you're extremely clever." Zeke's voice was serious. You half-smiled at the compliment, but you knew the mess you got yourself into cut your lifespan severely. "Can you shoot?"

"No, sir."

"It's alright, Mikasa will teach you. Sleep on the couch tonight, I'll have Yelena bring you a blanket. Tomorrow you'll swear an oath in front of the family. And if you want to protect Historia, you'll move out of the orphanage."

You nodded. You understood that mingling with the mafia endangered everyone you loved, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying the entire night. Historia was but a few months older than you, yet she gladly took you in when she invested in that orphanage. Now you had to leave everything behind for her safety — and yours.

[nishisun]

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

[thetrap]

why i think deancas just might go canon

i’ve been wanting to write this for a bit, but i haven’t really had the time until now. basically this is just a super unorganized collection of thoughts i have on why i think that dean and castiel actually have a fairly decent shot of becoming canon (and by decent shot i mean like.....a solid 5% chance. and that’s being generous). this is based off of the show itself (obviously), quotes from andrew dabb, and other things.

1. andrew dabb is deancas positive

i made a post a while back that never made it out of the drafts, but it was basically a summation of all the good deancas shit dabb has given us as a writer. here are the bullet points:

- the hug/"i'm not leaving here without you!" moment in purgatory (8x02) 

- "don't lose it over one man"

- "he's in love.....with humanity"

- cas/colette parallel ("dean. stop.") in 10x22

- just the fight scene from the prisoner in general like......wow

- sam/jess and dean/cas parallel in 12x23

- "we've lost everything......and now, you're gonna bring him back" + dean's just generally overwhelming grief in 13x01

- "and how is it that you lost dean? i thought the two of you were joined at the.....you know, everything"

and these are just the big moments.

also notable is the fact that an activist sent dabb (and some of the other producers of spn i think) a book about dean and cas and why the fans want it/why it would be a good thing for the show. a few years later, meghan fitzmartin (who wrote the most recent episode!) was hired as dabb’s assistant, went into his office and posted a tweet a with pictures of the book, saying something along the lines of “doing some reading for work!”

the fact that dabb actually kept a fanmade deancas book for years.....the fact that he’s consistently written episodes with really strong subtext for years.....the fact that the dean and castiel romantic tension has only picked up since he took over as showrunner (mixtape, lily sunder, cas’s death, dean’s grief arc, the entirety of season fifteen, etc.)......idk i just think it’s really interesting that there has been such a marked shift since he was put in charge.

2. the mixtape

i know this was a few seasons ago, but it’s still relevant because like. a mixtape is not platonic. this scene was not platonic. full-stop.

and it’s not even the act by itself; it’s also the dialogue!! “it was a gift. you keep those.” this is more than likely a direct callback to aragorn and arwen in lord of the rings (that’s the first thing i thought of, at least).

the fact that dabb let this slide, like......he knows what this looks like. berens and glynn, who wrote this episode, know what it looks like. they knew precisely how this would be perceived, and then wrote and aired the scene anyways.

and that’s not even getting into the camerawork. like what?? was this shot???

yeah so. definitely not platonic.

3. the trap

honestly i thought about just posting this part of this overlong essay thing, because to me, this is the episode where i went okay, so this might actually happen.

there are SO many things in this episode that made me go insane the first time i watched it (”i left, but you didn’t stop me”) but the thing that stuck out to me the most was dean’s reaction to castiel saying, “you don’t have to say it. i heard your prayer,” when dean tries to tell him something.

like?????? he does not look relieved!! nor does he look particularly happy!!

hell, if you go back and watch the video you can literally see him swallow his words down like....jensen ackles is the master of micro expressions and that shit is Not Accidental. this moment 100% gives the vibe that there is something that is not being said. the camera following dean as he gives cas a lingering look is really interesting too.

3. dabb’s comments about dean and cas in season 15

this part is actually sort of related to the point above, since a lot of dabb’s comments are in reference to “the trap.” here are some interesting ones that i want to point out:

But the Leviathan won’t be the focal point of the purgatory story. Rather, it’s about what Dean and Castiel are going through. “They’re not going to resolve the emotional stuff, but it allows them to redefine their friendship a little bit in light of what’s happened especially earlier this season,” Dabb says. (x)

the key thing here is that dabb said that, in 15x09, dean and cas are “not going to resolve the emotional stuff.”

now. i don’t know about you, but dean falling to his knees, praying to cas and weeping feels a lot like emotional resolution to me. like, sure, things will probably be awkward between them for a while, but surely this is the peak moment of their emotional vulnerability with each other, right? surely this is the moment where they’ve resolved the issue between them? like how the fuck does it get more intensely emotional than this??

yet dabb seems to be implying that it will, which leaves us with the million dollar question: what is left about dean and cas’ relationship to resolve?

keep in mind that as of 15x16, there hasn’t been much forward movement on that front; that is, we’ve had some cute moments between them, but in terms of serious conversation about their relationship, there’s been basically nothing. so we can assume that this development, whatever it is, will occur in 15x18, since dean and cas will be separated for most of 15x17, as cas will be off with sam.

aka the episode where cas will likely get yanked away by the empty. aka the episode with the teary (!!!) conversation we saw in the promo between dean and cas.

also notable from the above quote is dabb saying that dean and cas are redefining their friendship. like....redefining how? to what?? that wording is just really interesting to me.

another quote from dabb re “the trap”:

(x)

it forces them to “start that process.” indicating yet again that the prayer scene between dean and cas is not the moment where whatever is between them is resolved. yet, from where we are right now, dean and cas seem mostly fine. which means that whatever they have yet to work out doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with their fight.

lastly:

a really significant chunk of what happens to dean in 15x09 is him confronting his issues with cas. don’t get me wrong - there are other important things that happen in the episode - but the fact that an episode where so much time/emotional energy is given to dean and cas’ dynamic is considered a turning point for dean is very notable and, to me, speaks to the importance of their relationship for the rest of the season.

4. dean/cas and sam/eileen being set up as units

i’m of the opinion that sam and dean will (by choice) go their separate ways at the end of the show. i think this for a variety of reasons that i wrote about here, and to add onto this, i think that dean/cas and sam/eileen are, in a way, being set up as two units.

this theory comes from two points:

1. the fact that eileen got brought back at all

this isn’t to say that eileen isn’t an interesting character all on her own/outside of her romance with sam, but the fact that they brought her back and then proceeded to set her up in this romance feels really significant to me. what’s especially interesting is how, even after she leaves in 15x09, we get a continuation of their romance in 15x14. i don’t necessarily think that she’s sam’s endgame in the sense that the final episode will show sam going to her or whatever, but i do think that part of the reason she was brought back was so that sam would have someone who he loves/someone he could potentially build a life with after he and dean defeat chuck.

2. the way the two couples were portrayed in “the trap”

like....just watch the future scenes in the bunker. there’s very much a sense that these are two couples living together. and “ever since the mark made cas go crazy, ever since i had to bury him in a ma’lak box.” note the use of i, not we. and then dean/cas and sam/eileen are directly paralleled when dean tells sam he needs to give it up after eileen’s death, comparing it to how dean has given it up after having to bury cas in the ma’lak box.

5. dean does not do Well without cas

this is probably an understatement. there have been a couple of notable instances in this season where the viewer is given a glimpse of what happens to dean when cas dies/is in danger of death/is separated from dean (in case the whole ass widower arc in s13 wasn’t enough).

two of these are from “the trap”:

1. dean freaking out/crying/praying when he’s separated from cas in purgatory

2. dean giving up on life/hunting after burying cas in the ma’lak box in the future world

3. dean’s reaction to cas temporarily going to the empty in 15x13

the one i want to spend the most time on is number two, in large part because sam was witness to it and i think that this might get brought up in 15x17.

part of my spec for that episode is that cas will tell sam about his deal/sam will find out somehow, and in reaction sam might tell cas about how dean reacted to his death in s13 - a conversation that was notably absent from the show when cas finally returned in 13x05. i also think that he might mention no. 2 above, basically telling cas that if he dies, dean is done. that he won’t be able to handle it/move past it. the show has been telling us this over and over for a while now, and it’s only been emphasized more in season 15. i think that 15x17 is the episode where this will finally be verbally expressed.

to me, all of this emphasis on dean giving up when cas is gone isn’t for nothing. in my opinion, it’s being done very purposefully to set up an endgame where dean and cas are together in some sense of the word. and a lot of what i’ve said above is what makes me think it’ll be a Romantic together.

5. bobo berens’ three part deancas saga

so we all know that berens is pretty much spn’s foremost deancas warrior, and what i want to point out here is how this season has been utilizing him as a writer.

this season, berens has three solo episodes (he wrote “galaxy brain” with meredith glynn):

1. the rupture

2. the trap

3. despair (formerly known as “the truth”)

so far, these first two episodes have had major deancas moments. you could even label them as:

1. the rupture (the breakup)

2. the trap (the reconciliation)

3. depair (???)

keep in mind also that berens wrote 14x18, where the dean and cas sort of had a preliminary breakup. he’s been in charge of this arc for a while, and the fact that so much of his writing this season has been deancas focused.......i don’t know, i just think it’s significant in part because, while berens has always been deancas positive, he also writes plenty of episodes that aren’t focused on dean and cas. but now, in the final season, the dean and cas emotional arc has been handed to him, and it’s been the primary focus on his writing.

(sidenote: berens was promoted to executive producer for this final season)

to me, this is all leading to a big moment between dean and cas in 15x18 - and the fact that it was at one point called “the truth,” only to be switched back to despair - makes me think that there will be some sort of confession involved. my money is on cas being the one to say it (especially since this would line up with the leak), especially given the glimpse we saw of (what might be) this moment in the promo. which leads me to...

6. cas does not cry

i saved this for last because the promo where we see teary-eyed cas is actually what pulled me back into this shitshow.

cas does not cry. like. ever. he got a little teary in 15x15, when jack told him of his plan to sacrifice himself, but we have never - never - seen him shed actual tears. and in the promo, particularly that shot where cas says “you have fought for this whole world,” it 100% looks like cas is about to cry cry.

cas has seen his son die. he has seen dean die. he died himself, over and over and over. and we have never seen him cry.

yet for some reason, in this moment of vulnerability with dean, he’s crying. i find it highly unlikely that cas would cry because of his impending death, for a number of reasons (for one, he wouldn’t want to upset dean more than he has to). so, assuming he’s not crying because of his own death, then what is making cas so emotional that he is genuinely crying for the first time in the twelve seasons he has been on the show?

my guys.....i can only think of one thing.

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (2)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: light cursing, mentions of death, angsty Draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif not mine)

The surrounding neighbors have been very nice; one elderly couple walked up to Draco’s door with an apple pie, quite the American staple, and he seemed to appreciate it. They seemed normal and sweet. Much unlike the feeling he had for his neighbor. Y/N. He hasn't made any attempts in the month that he's lived in the small suburban neighborhood to see her. He avoided her like she was a deadly plague.

Albeit, it was probably harsh and extremely childish. The whole point of him becoming a new person was changing his views he had been taught in adolescence. Or else why did he help Harry Potter all those years ago when he swore he hated him?

It was currently around 3 in the morning, he was standing in his backyard and made sure no one would be awake as he sent his owl to send a letter to his best friend, Blaise. He was the only person who still contacted Draco on a regular basis besides the occasional letter from Theodore. Gregory cut all contact with Draco after the Battle, especially since Vincent had died that night in the fire in the Room of Requirement. Pansy was living her life somewhere, and although the Golden Trio had forgiven Draco for his actions, it didn't start any friendships. But Draco was fine; Blaise and Theo had been there for him in more ways he cares to admit.

He never mentioned a word about Y/N to Blaise until now when he asked what Draco’s American neighbors were like. Majority of the letter contained contents of how work has been, the differences in not only culture but also how things are called, and just his own well being. He did say something short for the elderly couple, but when it came to Y/N he had a lot to say.

These muggles are far different from the ones in England, Blaise. They know things about the magic world but input a fantasy in their heads. They believe they can actually practice witchcraft and wizardry, calling themselves “Wiccan” or whatever rubbish it is. Bloody hell, they even have films and tv programs of them. My neighbor is one of these and she does the most ludacris things in her house. Quite laughable, really. If Salazar was alive today to see this happening, I’d bet he’d curse the whole lot.

She had been lingering in his mind since that day of his discovery. It was annoying him. Every night, he would catch her in her room doing whatever the hell she was doing and he felt as if the universe was mocking him. This is what people think what you really are was the message he got from it all. Draco never thought something like this would make him feel like a freak. But he did. This act of hers was an indirect insult of what he was capable of. And she had no idea.

—

It was a fine autumn morning. The shop was closed today, so you had lots of time at home to catch up with cleaning. You stood over your bathroom sink brushing your teeth and saw from the reflection of your mirror your cat stretching herself before walking into the bathroom to rub herself on your legs. “Good morning, Aurora,” you cooed at her. She purred in response and ran off to her tower in the living room.

After getting changed into some comfortable clothes, you walked up to a closet in the hallway that had collections of crystals, oils, sage bundles and more. “Let’s see, where did I put the angelica root?” you asked out loud to yourself. Going through the shelves, you pulled some sea salt, ground lemon balm, ground angelica root, and a feather. You carried the items outside in a bowl to your backyard and set them at a small garden table. Walking over to your garden, you pulled some elderberry flowers and started your cleansing spell.

You sprinkled the salt onto a censor dish and placed a charcoal dish on it and lit it up. In the bowl you had used to carry the items out, you started mixing the herbs together as you waited for the charcoal to burn red. Once it did, you sprinkled the herbs on top, creating a cleansing incense. You picked it up from the bottom of the censor dish, picked up the feather and made your way steadily to your front door, lightly wafting smoke towards it. Reaching your front door, you drew a pentagram over it with the feather and smoke,

“Be gone negativity,

Here now blessed be.”

You repeat your incantations throughout the house until you have finished and walked back to your living room, drawing one last pentagram. You placed your feather and censor dish on the bare floor, stood up and tapped your foot three times,

“By my will, so shall it be.

Sealed now shall this cleansing be.”

You sat on your couch and turned on the television, waiting for the incense to burn out so you could scatter it around your backyard. After a couple of hours of watching a guilty pleasure of yours, you decided to get some actual cleaning done. First thing was to do some trimming and gardening outside, so you grabbed some gloves and headed out back to your yard.

Before grabbing your garden scissors, you looked up and saw something rather strange. There was an owl in your neighbors yard. In broad daylight. From the backyard, you heard a car pull in and peeked over the fence to see that it was your neighbor coming home. You ran to the front leaving a dirt trail in your house and ran out the front door.

He hadn’t walked in yet, so you started waving your arm, “Hello! I’m Y/N!”

He had just nodded his head and walked a straight line to his door. Not wanting to lose this chance of having a conversation with him, you yelled for him one more time, “There’s an owl in your yard!” His eyes widened and without a word, he ran into his house in a panic. From a distance, you heard him say 'shit' before closing the door.

Building up confidence, you walked up to his door and knocked a few times and patiently waited. You fixed your hair and stood surprised as he hastily opened the door. “H-hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I'm Y/N,” you stretched your hand out to shake his hand. He looked at it and had a displeased look, causing unease within you. Looking at your hand, you noticed you still had your gardening gloves on with dirt on it.

“Oops, sorry!” you chuckled as you took it off and reached out again.

Again, he just looked at you with a straight face for a couple of seconds before finally speaking, “Look, I’m really busy, so if you don't mind.” He shut the door without giving you any chance to say anything back. You stood there in shock, replaying his British voice in your head. And as you stood there, you wondered why it is that he doesn't want to talk to you. The Charles couple across from your house were able to introduce themselves, and even got a smile from him. But for some reason, you could never get the same treatment.

—

Ian had proposed to Draco a housewarming party during lunch. Of course Draco had never been to one, much less hosted one.

“It’s alright, boss. I can fix all the arrangements up. All you gotta do is relax,” Ashley proposed. To say that Draco is extremely happy is an understatement. He had friends that actually enjoyed his company and not his influence. Not that he had much of that anyway.

America was really working out for him; work was great, people were nice, and the area he lived in was peaceful. Yes, he didn't like his neighbor, but she wasn't ruining his life in this new country. He just didn't like what she did.

“Thank you, Ashley. And you know you can just call me ‘Draco’.”

“I know,” she replied. Ashley grabbed her Blackberry phone and started drafting up an email, asking for his address so she could let people know where it would be. “Is this Friday a good time?”

“Yes, that should be fine. I don't have any plans that day.”

“Great, it's sent out to everyone in our department. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an attending to watch over for a surgery. See you guys later!” Draco, Blaine and Ian waved at Ashley as she left.

Blaine left soon after, leaving Ian with Draco. “Alright man, how’s it going on your street? Are you finally settled in?”

“I finally got the last of my things delivered from London yesterday. I was a bit nervous though. That mugg— I mean No-Maj neighbor of mine saw my mum’s owl in my yard. Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions,” Draco said as he cleared his lunch tray.

“Wait, you still use an owl? Ha, I didn’t think people still did,” Ian chuckled. “Well, of course I do. Do you not?”

“No, most wizards here in the States just use the usual ground post that No-Maj’s use. Things are a bit more modern around here. Speaking of your neighbor actually, have you ever spoken to her?”

Draco shrugged nonchalantly and said a simple ‘No’ when he really wanted to scrunch his nose and eyebrows in disgust and say ‘Fuck no.’ Ian, however, is gifted in Legilimens. He heard what Draco really meant but kept to himself. I guess things are different in the UK he thought.

—

“Hello my dear baby, I just wanted to call and give you a heads up; your brother and I are coming for Thanksgiving. He’s bringing Stephanie so do me a favor, please no witchy stuff.”

The voicemail played out loud in the kitchen. Please no witchy stuff. Your mother had repeatedly explained to you that she was okay with ‘it’ all, but growing up you never really got on the same page with her. And you knew it was because of your practice. Your younger brother would say comments every now and then when you grew up, but he always stood up for you when other people called you a ‘satanic freak’. But never once did you regret starting the Craft. You enjoyed it and it made you feel whole.

It had been a week since your encounter with your, now known British, neighbor. It bothered you a lot that he didn’t seem to want to get to know you. You were lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice the doorbell going off. You answered the door and saw your neighbor.

“Hi dear, do you think you could help me and my husband with something?” Mrs. Charles smiled sweetly at you. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“My grandson is coming in from Vermont, would it be alright if you could give us a ride to the airport? I’d ask Draco but he’s always busy at work and I don’t want to be a bother.”

Draco? “I’m sorry, who’s that?” you had a confused look.

“Our new neighbor, dear. I thought you had met him already. You two are the same age after all,” she informed you. Draco. How unique. You instantly recognized the name from the star constellation. It was nice to finally put a name to a face. Distracted again, Mrs. Charles waited for your answer, “Y/N? Can you do it?”

“O-oh, sorry. Of course I’ll help. Frankie was his name, correct?”

“Yes, it’s Frankie. Thank you so much. His flight comes in on Friday. I’ll see you then,” you wished her a good night and looked out your window to make sure she crossed the street safely. The rest of the night consisted of you and and your cat laying on your couch watching TV, but what was on the screen didn’t have your attention. Draco did. And you had no idea why.

—

“Dude, why do you not have a TV?” Blaine looked around Draco’s house and studied the arrangements he had. It was quite plain, almost minimalistic. Looking around, Draco couldn’t help but think how different it was from the Manor back in London. Instead of grand chandeliers, moving portraits of the Malfoy’s before him, and intricate designs on the walls, he had simple white walls with just one moving picture of him, Blaise and Theo a couple minutes before a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw. He had a bookshelf full of old school books from Hogwarts and some small relics he liked from the Manor.

“I’ve never had one growing up, and once I moved here I just never gave any second thought of it. Besides, what would I even watch?” Draco replied. Despite having one letter off from being the same name as his best friend, Blaine reminded Draco of Theo. They were both funny and outspoken. He would’ve loved for them to have met. They’d probably get on.

A few moments later, Ashley and Ian knocked on Draco’s door. The door was unlocked for them to be able to open the door. They looked around the living room before settling onto the couches. “Okay so I was thinking that we can just have some trays of snacks and desserts with some champagne. Does that sound good to you guys?” Ashley suggested. They just nodded along to whatever she said. She had gone to the store with Blaine to get everything prepared before the party tonight.

Ian looked at the pictures of Draco with his friends and one of his mother that laid on top of a chimney. “Do you still have lots of friends from Hogwarts?”

Draco thought about it, “You know, I actually didn’t have a lot of friends back in school. Back then, I only hung out with probably six people. But now it’s just two.” He sounded a bit sad, but figured that two were better than none.

“Do you think of what happened a lot?” Ian implied about that day at Hogwarts. He had been the only one that Draco trusted enough to tell. “Sometimes,” Draco gave a short reply. The action of opening up was still new to him, but he knew he shouldn’t wallow in it. Plus he’d rather have a friend instead of a doctor to talk about it.

Ian really felt bad for Draco. It must have been really traumatizing for someone to go through something like that at just the age of 17. Sure, Draco wasn’t the best person at the time. Who is he kidding, he was probably the biggest git in the whole school. It didn’t necessarily mean that he had to go through what he did. He lost one of his friends in a fire, and one left him after said friend died. Another left for no apparent reason. And another wanted something different in her life. Those things affected Draco, and probably will for the rest of his life.

He didn’t pity Draco, but was feeling sympathetic. “Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have much friends from Ilvermorny. It sucks now, but hey, down the line you get new ones.” Ian held a fisted hand out, waiting for Draco to bump it. It made him laugh as he bumped Ian’s fist.

Outside, Ian looked out to see a certain neighbor walk to her car. “Hey, is that that chick you were talking about?” Draco looked out the window and saw you grab some things out of your trunk and into your house. “Yeah, that’s her.” Ian never really pressed on Draco to explain why he didn’t like his No-Maj neighbor like he did the elderly couple across the street.

“Well, I gotta say. She’s a sight for sore eyes for a weirdo.” She’s a what? Beyond the nightly activities he had caught you doing on occasion in your bedroom, he never really looked at your face. Or really just at you. But now that Ian mentioned something, he started studying you. She’s not so bad looking— wait, what are you thinking?

By accident, Ian snorted at the words Draco thought. “Did… did I say that out loud?” Draco asked with suspicion in his voice. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to be invading your mind or anything. It runs in my family,” Ian laughed nervously.

“It’s okay. My godfather was also good at Legilimens and Occlumency. I’m pretty sure he’s heard worse during his classes. Come on, I’ll give you a full tour of the place.”

“If the other rooms are anything like the living room, I’m sure I’ve seen the whole place then,” Ian joked.

“Piss off.” As Ian walked towards the bathroom, Draco looked back outside to see you again. He watched as you helped the Charles couple in your car and drove off to Merlin knows where.

—

The party was rather fun. It lasted until almost 1 in the morning. He thanked Ashley for handling everything and spent the night talking and laughing with his colleagues. Once everyone left, he changed into comfortable sweats and a plain black t-shirt. Out on his bedroom window was Blaise’s owl with a sealed letter. He quickly opened the window, grabbed the letter and looked out to make sure no one was watching. Your room was dark and it seemed as the drapes were down. He guided his friends’ owl with his hands to a small, make-shift owl post against the fence that separated your yards. It had food and was enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature. His owl laid on one side of the post, resting as Blaise’s owl joined it.

Draco opened the letter and read its contents to himself.

Well mate, I’m glad you’re having a good time in America. There’s not much going on here in London. I’m just working at Gringotts until something opens up at the Ministry. Not really sure what I want to do, but I’ll figure it out. Anyways, I think you’ll be pleased to hear that Theo and I are going to be joining you for the holidays. Theo got a hold of a couple American muggle films and he figured that if the women there were as fit as the actresses, then you must be living the best life and he wants to join. As for that muggle neighbor of yours, I can’t wait to see her in person. We’ll see you, Malfoy.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw lights turn on in your room and your shadow walk around before turning off once more. Sorry Blaise, but there’s no way in hell you’ll meet her.

—

Frankie’s flight was delayed, causing you to get home so late. You were extremely tired and your feet and back were sore. Usually, you’d take a bath with some salts and oils to relax yourself, but tonight you were really lazy. So lazy that you just shook your shoes off and plopped yourself on the bed.

The second you hit the mattress, you dozed off. Your mind was wandering and found yourself dreaming.

You sat in your backyard in a pretty sundress. There was a slight breeze in the air and you held a cup of coffee in your hands. Someone sat at the chair opposite you and blocked the sun’s light in your face. You looked next to you and saw your friend smiling at you.

Draco.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っ taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla

[onepiece-sidepiece]

this is true of all fandoms, and it's nothing new, but i wanna bitch for a second

(I deserve it after working sick af for 14 hours straight)

going to any One Piece tag is so annoying bc of how broad the spectrum of the posts are

on one post you'll find some cool fan art, the next will be a takedown of a character, the next will be non-tagged spoilers, the next will be some joke, the next will be a detailed conspiracy theory explaining how Point A connects to Point 74...etc

and there's no real way to sift through the bullshit you want to avoid in order to find the nuggets of gold that you want

for example

regarding One Piece, all I wanna do is fuck around. i wanna make fun of characters and their stupidity. I want to point out absolute insane things

like how pencils don't really exist in that entire fucking world, just goddamn quill pens (there were some on Nami's drafting desk at Arlong's, but that's the literal only time I've seen anything pencil-related)

or like how we've never seen a fucking motorized Model T-esque automobile, despite submarines having the capabilities to serve as hospitals and operating rooms, and Franky putting together the Black Rhino FR-U 4 and the Brachio Tank 5. but vehicles? with wheels? that transport people and goods from one place to another using a combustible engine? the fuq is that shit???

However, then you have your conspiracy/spoiler-y posts

the last time I cared about massive conspiracies and long-term spoilers was back during the most recent Star Wars drama regarding ultimate Big Bads, Rey's parents, Reylo (and whether it was right/wrong), etc. and honestly? I got done with it so fuckin fast

maybe 5, 10 years ago I would have been right there with you, digging around every screen capture I could find, trying to find hidden clues about Zoro's parents or who the fuck Shanks actually is (besides some bumfuck pirate who spends most of his time making poor fashion choices while drunk on deserted islands)

maybe accidentally seeing the prevailing theory about the All Blue wouldn't have made me so upset back then. but holy fuckers, I'm like....livid about it now. that was one of the mysteries that I was enjoying toying around with in my head, allowing myself the pleasure of just enjoying a really goddamn great story with mystery and wonder for the literal first time in ~15 years (English Major, then freelance writer for the collegiate-level educational field, etc, so lots of analyzing and picking up clues and hints about how stories will end and why i could tell)

and after doing that for so long..............movies and books and stories don't get fun anymore. It's like you're constantly trying to outsmart the author and figure out plots and twists and endings without experiencing the story they've created for you

so like.........basically I don't wanna go to the One Piece tag at the end of the day and see someone's VERY LONG post about who Shanks really is behind the scenes, like they've watched the show three times in 8 days and finished the whole manga in 3 just for this assignment, and they've found all the evidence that supports their conclusion, and now, they're presenting it to me and not putting it under a cut or whatever

and I mean, if that type of analysis and writing is fun for them, more power to them. but just to them specifically

the problem is that i see it on the tag

even if I don't read the post, even if I quickly scroll past after realizing what it is, I still see the title and scan a few of the first lines. so now my ruminating ADHD mind won't ever let me forget that I know a potential major plot point, and the massive gaping hole which is leading me to that conclusion desperately wants to be filled with information

ugh. anyways.

HERE ARE THE CONSPIRACIES THAT I ACTUALLY WANT TO SEE ON THE TAG

whether or not Luffy has a hard time whacking himself off bc he keeps pulling at his dick harder and faster and more erraticly, which for a normal dick would be fine, but for a gummy dick would be like trying to whack off with those glittery stress water cucumbers

whether Sanji is a total virgin (he is...nobody needs to answer that for me) (and if you backtalk and say he's not a virgin, then you're wrong)

whether Zoro is a virgin (common sense tells me that there's NO WAY that motherfucker hasn't put that body and muscular jaw to good use, but on the other hand, he's also the type who 1) is either uninterested in sex bc it doesn't bring him closer to his goal, or 2) ignores sex because it may distract him from his goal)

what form does Chopper take when he has to use the bathroom? does he even use a bathroom? or does he wander into the wilderness like a reindeer and let it plop out like old times?

if you were suddenly Pleasantville'd into One Piece, who would you really actually fucking be? (not who you WANNA be, but who you'd legit turn into bc they're absolutely you) (i'd be Chimney and Gonbe...my soul would split in half and occupy their tiny little bodies while i created rabid chaos on a miniature scale)

Also when I'm scrolling through tags, I wanna see fan art (not of Zosan though...stop drawing pictures of my boyfriend cheating on me with that greasy ashtray). I wanna see jokes. I wanna see smut (good smut, please, for the love of everything). I wanna have a super fun, light-hearted time with One Piece and basically dick around with people on the tag. but it just sucks bc I don't feel like I can ever scroll through the tags because those random spoiler-y posts that come up unexpectedly absolutely ruin it for me

idk idk idk i'm tired and going to bed now

[septicstories]

Big Life in a Small Town (Part 1)

A/N: This is based on the song "Santa Fe (Prologue)" from the Newsies musical! It's not based on the plot of the musical. The song will be altered a tad, but not too much! In the next part though, I'll have to do some edits. But for now, you've got this... mess? I dunno, I'm writing this before it's done. This is post-X-men Apocalypse, so Peter is in his late 20's.

Genre: Bittersweet fluff

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, mentions of broken limbs, daddy issues, no beta reader, minimal editing

Word count: 1.3k (1,385 words)

The X-mansion was quiet, the cool midnight air only changing currents occasionally when a silver blur sprinted around.

Pietro had his younger brother in his arms, running around. Peter injured his leg a while ago, stuck on crutches. ANd it was killing the young speedster.

And Pietro noticed.

So he scooped his younger brother up out of his room, running him around the mansion's vast yard until he smiled. That's when he brought him up to one of the rooftop balconies of the mansion.

The two siblings weren't the only ones in their family who lived in the mansion. Pietro's twin, Wanda, was fast asleep, her room near the balcony.

Pietro, as immature as he may seem, was wise beyond his years. He'd seen more things than he ever would have wanted to for a 35-year-old man. Hell, anyone would be unsettled when you find your mother died of sickness, and your father was out of the picture when your younger brother was born a few years after.

Pietro and Peter sat on the balcony, a case of beer between the two, a sudden scoff came from the older speedster.

"What's up, you alright?" Peter asked, looking at his brother.

Pietro's eyes were glued to the ground below them, a sour expression on his face.

"Those streets down there," Pietro began, a dry laugh leaving his lips. "They sucked the life right out of our old man. Well, they aren't doing that to me."

Peter pursed his lips, watching as his older brother took a swig of his beer.

Pietro has always hated staying in one place for too long. The mansion hadn't really ever been his favorite place. Staying at their aunt's house in D.C. was something he looked forward to every summer. But, even then, he could only stay there for a few days before needing to go somewhere else. Not just from his need to move, but the U.S. government still wasn't absolutely fond of mutants.

"But everyone wants to come to New York," Peter let out a small chuckle. To an outsider, it'd sound like he was in disbelief, but he understood how Pietro felt.

Staying in one place was hard. But Peter also managed to make himself a family here at the mansion as he grew up. He met the ever-sweet Jean Grey when he was 20 years old. The poor girl had some trauma that no one but Chuck knew about. He got to meet Hank, and Raven, and all of the other younger kids. He thought of them all as his younger siblings.

He couldn't leave.

"You keep your small life in the big city. Give me a big life in a small town."

Pietro's words snapped Peter out of his thoughts, looking to his older brother. Pietro's eyes had lifted from the ground, looking up to the sky.

"They say folks are dying to get here."

"What about you, Piet?"

"Me? I'm dying to get away... to a little town out west that's spankin' new," Pietro said with a grin. "And while I've never been there, I can see it clear as day! If you want, I bet you, you could see it, too.

Peter has always had a particular question on his mind, that he always knew the answer to.

Then why haven't you gone? What's stopping you?

But, as always, Peter kept his mouth shut. He didn't want Wanda and Pietro to leave, as dumb as it may be. They were the only family he had left. Well, that he knew of and that knew of him.

Erik was another person he'd address when he had the courage.

But not...

Not now.

"Close your eyes."

Peter looked at his brother again, who was staring back at him. Honestly, he was waiting for his brother to snap in his face and use what became his favorite phrase after a few movie nights: "Hello, McFly?"

"Come with me, where it's clean and green and pretty, and they went and made a city out of clay."

Clay? A city out of clay? That sounds... odd. Peter hasn't stayed too long in other parts of the world, opting to stick to the Northeast area of the U.S. Occasionally, he'll go further South or a little bit further West. But never past Kansas.

"Why, the minute that you get there, folks will walk right up and say, 'Welcome home, son. Welcome home to Santa Fe!'"

Being called son was something the Maximoff boys wanted more than they would ever elude to. Their father? Out of the picture for the most part, up until they realized he was a terrorist. And he didn't even know about Peter.

Of course, the townsfolk of Santa Fe may not call you "son" as soon as you land on the premise. But, two bastard sons can dream, can't they?

"Planting crops. Splitting rails. Swapping tales around the fire," Pietro's grin grew as he spoke. He really thought about this a lot, didn't he? "Except for Sunday when you lie around all day."

Peter didn't know how much Pietro truly thought about leaving. Pietro's mind was full of places to go and see, places where he could take his family and live without having to deal with attacks from the U.S. government.

Santa Fe was where they'd go next in the U.S., but Sokovia was certainly the next best option. The U.S. government wouldn't come looking for them in Sokovia.

Right?

"Soon your friends are more like family, and they're begging you to stay! Isn't that neat?" Pietro asked as Peter took a large sip from his beer. "Living sweet in Santa Fe."

Pietro trailed off, almost in a dream-like state, making Peter flinch. He really fucking wanted out, huh?

"Hey, no one worries about a bad leg in Santa Fe. You just hop on a palomino, you'll ride in style!" Pietro joked, knocking his shoulder into his brother's.

"Feature me, ridin' in style," Peter giggled, taking a swig of his beer again.

"Hey, I bet a few months of clean air, you could toss that crutch for good!"

"Santa Fe," Peter and Pietro mumbled in unison, one happy and the other more tired. "You can bet, we won't let those bastards beat us. We won't beg anyone to treat us fair and square. There's a life that's worth the living, and I'm gonna do my share."

"Work the land, chase the sun." Pietro ran his hands through his hair, standing up.

"Swim the whole Rio Grande just for fun!" Pietro and Peter shouted together. The two had massive grins spreading across their faces, just happy to see the other smiling.

"Watch me stand!" Peter stood up quickly, only to feel a sharp pain jolt through his bad leg. His hands flew to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as he let out a choked noise of pain.

"Watch me run..."

Pietro frowned when he saw his brother's grimace, watching Peter set himself down into a sitting position. The poor kid was gritting his teeth and sucking in harsh breaths as he set himself down.

"Hey, hey..." Pietro began softly, sitting down beside his brother before slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't you know that we're a family?"

Peter's eyes met Pietro's, painting over his grimace with a weak grin. "Yeah, b--"

"Would I let you down?" Pietro asked.

Peter let out a weak laugh as his brother continued.

"No way. Just hold on, kid, until that train makes Santa Fe."

The younger speedster let out a yawn, leaning his head on his brother's shoulder.

"Let's get you to bed, okay?" Pietro said, only getting a nod from Peter.

Pietro scooped his younger brother up in his arms, speeding through the mansion into Peter's room before setting him down.

"Good night, Peter."

"Good night, Pietro."

Pietro sped out of Peter's room, only to be stopped when he passed Wanda's room. His sleepy twin gave him a look, one that he didn't see often, and it concerned him.

"Pietro, we're being called to Sokovia," Wanda whispered sleepily.

"What? Why? All three of us?"

"No. Peter needs to stay here. He's got a broken leg, Pietro. Just you and I."

Pietro took in a quick breath before nodding.

"When do we leave?"

"... you didn't see that coming..."

A/N: Haha, cliffhangers are fun, ain't they? Okay, but, here's what you have for now! The other one is already in my drafts, and I've got plans for that! So, I'll get all that shit out, and we'll be good! I've got so much shit in my drafts, holy shit. Okay, uh... I don't have much to say, so thank you for reading! I don't necessarily have a tag list for this sort of stuff, so if you want to be on a tag list, let me know! And please let me know if you find a typo or something that doesn't make sense. Like I said, there's minimal editing.

[pan-xichen]

(Long rant warning)

I think some people actually don't understand the process of writing. Like I see tons of people flip their shit when lm and jds say anything about how the story and characters were in the development of voltron and say they're terrible people for considering these as concepts in their story (like the idea to kill off Shiro, for example, was obviously scrapped both due to executives and also they were already thinking of a way to work him back into the story before the execs even stepped in; I had someone yell at me for like three separate replies in a post about how lm and jds are ~problematic~ because they wanted Shiro to be gay and there was a draft of the story in which he died and I'm just like honey... no... that's how writing works... creators change their minds and rework concepts all the time). People fail to realize how much drafting and writing and rewriting goes into producing a final product and it frustrates me as an author myself to no fucking end. Like... maybe understand how writing works before you yell about the showrunners being problematic because they considered killing off certain characters or whatever you idiots get mad about. Please shut up.

And for anyone who's about to attack me for possibly not knowing what I'm talking about, allow me to introduce you to my warrior cats character, Silverstorm:

I have had the same oc since I was an edgy depressed preteen who first got into warriors via the Graystripe and Millie manga which was the only book my school actually had. He started out as a super depressed, battle-scarred, emo she-cat whose mate was a rogue named Furyheart and I heavily projected on her. His original design had cheesy anime hair and one purple eye and one yellow eye and at one point she even had wings. A few years later (around 11th grade or so) I gained interest in warriors again and genderbent him because I felt like it and two years ago I scrapped the wings (even though it was super fun to draw cats with wings pff) and decided he was gay and this was his cat-boyfriend:

Silverstorm's reworked story at that time was that he was meant to be a medicine cat but felt that he was better at fighting and hunting so he hid his ability to communicate with starclan and relayed prophecies to his sister who had wanted to be a medicine cat. At one point in development he was a half-clan cat and his sister was in the other clan, too (now they are both in the same clan). He was constantly butting heads with an older warrior called Foxtail:

(can you also tell I don't know what a consistent art style is pffft this is the most recent ref I've drawn) who was an ambitious ass and a little too close to Tigerstar in personality so I changed the story fairly recently (like in August last year??) so that Silverstorm and Foxtail had trained together and been friends, and now Foxtail is Silverstorm's ex. Foxtail's motives for being an evil son-of-a-bitch are now "cat god is telling me to do this" instead of "I want power" because in this story starclan is now corrupt and has a leader (even though they're not supposed to) who banishes cats to the dark forest if they stand up to her. Silverstorm is no longer a supposed-to-be medicine cat and his sister is a medicine cat who can actually speak to starclan. He is visited by a dark forest cat called Flamestar who was the first leader of a rival clan and learns that his clan and that clan are actually connected by blood because the first leader of his clan was Flamestar's son. There's this whole thing where the conflict between Flamestar and his son parallels the one between Silverstorm and Foxtail but the parallels are reversed and eventually Silverstorm has to die so he can kill cat-god but like... I'm not even done? And half of what I just typed might get changed again before I get around to actually writing this?

As for an example of a very popular franchise other than voltron doing this, assassin's creed, one of the most financially successful and well-known video game series in the world, started out as a spinoff of prince of persia. An entire goddamn franchise almost didn't exist and because of a few decisions from the developers, now we have all these historical stabby simulator games. Another change that significantly impacted a video game franchise was the single decision to not have the evil ending of infamous 2 be canon. They changed it so as to not alienate players who preferred the good endings, and game that followed, infamous second son, was vastly different from what it could have been if evil!Cole had been canon instead.

The point I'm trying to make here is that a story can go through a ton of rewrites before it's finished. You can't fault an author (or any creator for that matter) for having concepts while in development that you happen find problematic. If those concepts make it to the final story, fine, be mad at them. But seriously, yall need to calm the fuck down and realize that this is the nature of storywriting. Go outside or something.

[mymusicalitylove]

Dive

In my feels. Trying to be productive and direct them in a positive way.

The other night I feel like I broke because the latest disappointment (that I created for myself), came to the surface. I took a hot shower, cried and told myself to let it all go. Hardest I have cried in a long time because I replayed a lot of scenarios about this endless loop I seem to be stuck in: I give up on this notion called ‘love’, discard it and begin to focus elsewhere.. then along comes another unsuspecting fool that says all the right things to get me twitterpated and caught up in the fantasies my brain creates. I get sucked in and think, ok, maybe this will go somewhere.. just to BAM! Slam my face into a wall of unending disappointment. Wash, rinse, repeat. It feels as though this scene has been on replay about eleventeen times over these last few years, and all I can say is: How. Fucking. Stupid (Who is the REAL fool? Ya, that’s me).

I went to bed after my therapeutic shower and slept ok, but kept waking up. I finally decided to get up and be productive, and had Ed Sheeran’s “Dive” stuck in my head. Hadn’t heard it in a while so I’m not sure where it came from, but it stayed with me the entire morning. 

My entries on this thing almost always relate to music and how the lyrics relate to my life. I’ve saved some drafts with songs I’ve wanted to write about later. When I realized I wasn’t going back to sleep, I decided to write; I checked my drafts and whoa.. “Dive” was already on there.. I don’t even remember saving it. 

(Despite there being a few too many typos for my taste in this post above, I feel it, Rising Woman!)

September 2019 is the most notable time I can remember starting the self-destructive cycle. My boss left at work and I decided I needed to do something to change my life up. I put all my energy into planning my amazing sabbatical in Italy. Everything was set up; all the wheels were in motion for me to see Europe, do me selfishly, and not worry about shit! In my mind I put together plans of sightseeing, concerts, volunteering, gymming, wandering, and getting lost in the country I fell in love with a year prior.

In October on a night out with friends, I met an EMT at a bar. He worked his bullshit game, and did it well because he was intriguing. He made me feel good over a two hour convo that honestly felt like a first date, and convinced me to give him the digits (which I don’t freely give to strangers). Too bad the man never called. Womp, womp.

After a taste of those vibes I craved that “feeling” again. I tried a dating app again for a couple months. In a comical turn of events, said dating app matched me with this same EMT! This presented me with the opportunity to call his ass out, and incidentally feel validated as to why it actually was better he never called. Talked to a few other guys on the app, but really can only report on a couple stupid funny anecdotes of just how sad it is that guys don’t know how to talk to women anymore. At least this time I wasn’t taking it seriously and only did it for shits and giggles. Decided okay, just keep focusing on plans for Italy, stacking that paper, and looking forward to the new year (*point and laugh at the idiot who had no idea what 2020 had in store!*). 

In January a boy (with a girlfriend) who I’d had innocent flirtation vibes with for a while tells me he’s now single. I had already placed him in the “not gonna happen” folder, and his confession obviously began a different wave of chemistry and banter for months. We had a conversation about the reality of where I am/what I’m ready for, and where he’s at/what he’s not ready for. Oh, and in the midst of all this, Covid hits and I have to make the heartbreaking decision to cancel Italy and deal with the feels of defeat that followed. And let’s also add all the sadness of being stuck with only me, myself and my thoughts in quarantine.

One last convo in April with “previously not gonna happen” sealed the deal of this endless string of flirtation not going anywhere and back in that folder he went. I then decided to give my number to this other guy who had shown interest a while back (but I hadn’t paid him any mind cuz I was stuck on folder guy). New dude didn’t really engage, so I disregarded him again, and worked on rearranging my place, organizing, decorating, spring cleaning and purging. Fast forward to now, it’s June and new dude comes back to work, asks to hang out, we have a great first “date” lasting three hours, and now here I am less than two weeks later wondering what happened. New dude: MIA / Me: WTF?

I truly do not understand why this cycle continues. Each time I feel like I get closer to something real, just to be lead into feeling like a fucking moron. I can’t stand it anymore, and it honestly makes me want to go back to being guarded and jaded, but I know that’s not the right way to find anyone. So I open up and allow some level of vulnerability, even though I’m scared af cuz of how hard I fell five years ago with the man I thought I was going to marry.

This is gonna hurt, but I blame myself first

'Cause I ignored the truth

Drunk off that love, my head up

There's no forgetting you

You've awoken me, but you're choking me

I was so obsessed

It was a matter of time

But you are the fire, I'm gasoline

Gave you all of me, and now honestly, I got nothing left

'Cause I loved you dangerously

More than the air that I breathe

Knew we would crash at the speed that we were going

Didn't care if the explosion ruined me

Baby, I loved you dangerously

I learned a lot from that short but impactful relationship. It was the love of my life and I went into it with complete abandon. I loved him dangerously. Things felt “right” and escalated quickly, which lead to our demise because we did not explore all the things before going full force into a relationship. We mutually thought this was “it” and talked about the future we would have. It completely broke me to end things, and upon rebuilding the pieces of me, I promised myself I would never rush into things like that again. 

I know that I do it to myself, but I guess I don’t know how else to do it. If I’m closed off and guarded, I’m not welcoming anything in; if I’m open and vulnerable, I start to dream in fantasyland with expectations just to be let down and end up inevitably disappointed. I clearly don’t know how to find the balance that works and it has become maddening beyond words. 

I need to find that balance, and it would be a lot easier to find in non-Covid times where I could have something else to focus my precious energy on, rather than wanting to find “my person”.

Maybe I came on too strong

Maybe I waited too long

Maybe I played my cards wrong

Oh, just a little bit wrong

Baby I apologize for it

I could fall or I could fly here in your aeroplane

And I could live, I could die

Hanging on the words you say

And I've been known to give my all

And jumping in harder than ten thousand rocks on the lake

So don't call me baby unless you mean it

Don't tell me you need me if you don't believe it

So let me know the truth

Before I dive right into you

And I've been known to give my all

And lie awake, everyday don't know how much I can take

I could fall, or I could fly here in your aeroplane

And I could live, I could die

Hanging on the words you say

And I've been known to give my all

Sitting back, looking at every mess that I made

This new dude made me really feel this. I tend to fall, and fall hard because I am so ready to give my heart to someone. But I need to put on the brakes and slow my damn roll. 

I can’t keep getting my hopes up. That is ultimately my problem. I tell myself to not have expectations and I do well to begin with, then have an amazing connection and am fed (what is obviously) bullshit and fall for it like a moron. I have grown thicker skin this time around, so at least there’s that.. but hopefully this has been my last lesson. 

I have found a new diversion for my focus and just put in my first offer for a new home! This will be my new passion project and will take up my thoughts and energies for a while, so as freaked tfo as I am, I am equally excited for this new venture. If it’s meant to be, it will be, and if it’s not, my new little home is out there somewhere not ready for me yet. 

06/19/2020 - 11:51 PM