#dont lose dont lose dont lose me..... dont lose me.......

[d-o-l-l-parts]

blorbo in my head . you wouldnt know about her but htis is her for real

(guy who's lost so much and loses more every day) I never fucking lose

[mylittlefina]

Thank you for tolerating me at my worst....

We all have our stories and trauma we drag with us. My goal was to show my healing journey and the positive sides of being a "little"

I've been through some insane events this last year, to the point of psychosis.

Luckily, i had this community to help me through it.

Thank you all so much. I can't express how your words and intentions helped me when I felt completely alone and lost within my own mind and body.

I couldn't tell what was real and I felt like the walls around me were closing in and I was the literal joke of the world. It broke me in ways I may never fully recover from.

I'm more than grateful, and I'll share my life with you all to the best of my abilities.

I'm going to embrace my little side more now than ever before without losing my independence. Life is messy, and being innocence brings me an inner peace that nothing can compete with.

I've spoken with so many of you, and i lose track of who I'm messaging, so please don't take it personally. Tumblr has a terrible setup if you have more than 99 messages. It's both a blessing and a curse. Im only one person after all... and I dont like the idea of liking one human over another. Mainly because how I was neglected as a child. I just want things to be as fair as possible.

I care about knowing who I'm messaging so be patient with me. I've met many followers and I like to give everyone a chance, no matter your imperfections or insecurities .. trust me. I'm full of them too. Just know I'm literally not for everyone and that something that kills me sometimes but its life. We all want what we cannot have.

I just wanted to share my thoughts..

I'm not trying to be super serious, but its good to ground ourselves in reality once in a while.

I wish you all the best year yet, I bless your path and all those you care about.

Let's teach people how to be human again. You're literally eternal souls having this temporary experience, so make the most of it ❤️

Blessings to thee for Blessings Are Free 😘💖

Little Fina/Mylee K

[daughterofthesunlands]

IF HE HELD MY HAND LIKE THIS-

THE WAY IN WHICH I WOULD'VE--

[scoutofmymind]

fratboy!Luigi x i-dont-wanna-be-here!Reader just randomly had the thought of Lu being a rowdy frat boy and got kinda Tingly

Divine Timing Bullshit { Luigi x Reader }

Content: pretty much SFW (if you read about an alleged assassin at work), kissing, existential crisis, Fratboy Lu is actually a sweetie

W.c: 2,485

Notes; Yeah he’s an aggro-frat boy, but he’s also a stoned philosopher, and you appreciate that, because you’re kind of losing it.

Ohh, oh, oh. Yes, yes, yes. Frat boy with a brain and heart, reader is lowkey Going Through It.

Second-year frat parties had lost their theoretical allure. Gone was that first-year thrill of living the quintessential college experience, of checking off every box in the collegiate party manual.

This year, though. This year felt different.

"Who's going to be there?" You mumble through a mouthful of scone, eyes fixed on your screen. The pastry, a hasty purchase between classes, sits half-forgotten in your cheek.

"Since when do you care?" Your roommate swivels from her desk—a chaos of textbooks, scattered lip glosses, an open laptop, and uncapped mascaras. She brandishes her lip pencil like an accusatory finger, eyebrows arched. "You're turning into such a second-year hermit."

You flinch at the accusation, phone dropping to your chest as you stop mid-chew. "Fuck," you mutter, brushing pastry debris from your hoodie — the same one you've been living in for... three nights? Four?

She doesn't need to spell it out. You've become a ghost haunting the same tired circuit: dorm room, library, labs, class. Any moment of freedom dissolves into endless study sessions or mindless TikTok scrolling until you drift off to the white noise of ASMR or satisfying slime crafts.

"Don't make me go alone." Her voice cracks with a plea you can't dismiss. "We're supposed to be doing college together. We promised."

The pact.

The fucking pact.

You'd both sworn, hands clasped under string lights in your shared room during orientation week, that you wouldn't let each other miss out on anything. Not the midnight donut runs, not the questionable decisions, not the memories that were supposed to make these years matter.

And so, it was settled.

•

The house loomed before you, nothing like the usual frat dungeons. This was old money — a sprawling estate with an infinity pool that cut into the manicured lawn like a slice of sky, and a home theater visible through floor-to-ceiling windows.

Bodies pressed past, each collision a reminder that you'd rather be elsewhere.

"Whose fuckin' house is this?" The words barely leave your mouth before your roommate's giggle floats up, her shoulder bumping yours as she shrugs.

The question evaporates into the thrum of bass and chatter.

You knew the drill by now.

She'd disappear into the crowd, hunting for tonight's conquest, while you'd drift through rooms like a wandering spirit in limbo — observing the drama unfold, helping yourself to whatever expensive snacks rich kids kept in their pantries, and sometimes, when the night got boring enough, investigating medicine cabinets.

Eventually, your travels lead you toward clusters of laughing girls, some familiar faces from lecture halls, others newly christened friends after thirty seconds of slurred introductions.

The living room couch has become your sanctuary, a perfect vantage point for the night's theater.

"God, he's fucking hot." Liz's whisper cuts through the ambient chatter, her eyes fixed on the kitchen where the imported marble island has devolved into a battlefield of red cups and spilled beer.

A tall figure commands the space, radiating the particular brand of arrogance that comes with being undefeated at beer pong for the past hour.

"Who?" Your eyebrows knit together before shooting upward in realization. She can't possibly mean -

"His name's Luigi." Her voice takes on that dreamy quality, like a third-grader confessing her first crush behind the jungle gym. "He's studying Computer Science."

Your face contorts into an expression somewhere between horror and disbelief.

"I know," Liz breathes, mirroring your shock. Luigi wasn't unattractive — that was the problem. The universe had already dealt him the unfair hand of conventional beauty; the revelation of actual intelligence felt like cosmic overkill. "Wouldn't think he was aiming any higher than a business degree, huh?"

You watch him slam another cup, arms raised in victory, and try to reconcile this frat god with the same person who probably spent hours debugging code.

The image doesn't compute.

Every other CS major you knew was either passed out in the engineering building or mainlining caffeine in their dorm, not holding court over a beer pong empire.

"Just gives typical aggro frat vibes," you mutter, unable to tear your eyes away from the spectacle. He's exchanging those elaborate, ritualistic handshakes with his bros, throwing back shots like water. Your body instinctively recoils, but there's something magnetic about the train wreck unfolding before you — like watching a perfectly coded program crash in spectacular fashion.

He's performing, you realize — a master of his craft, painting broad strokes of the perfect college experience. Creating stories he'll tell at reunions and job interviews, memories that look better through the lens of a camera than they feel in real time.

You study Luigi's practiced grin, the way he looms over his temporary kingdom, and something shifts.

Does he have someone to call at 3 AM when the world caves in? Or are these connections as deep as the beer puddles on the marble counter — evaporating by morning?

The room tilts slightly, your earlier drinks and that passed joint finally catching up, making everything sharper and softer all at once.

Your gaze drifts over your own circle, these girls laughing and sharing secrets like best friends, some of which you'd only learned most of their names moments ago.

The thought hits you like cold water: who among them would you trust with your real stories? Who would pick up your call at 3 AM? Are you any different from Luigi — just playing your own part in this performance?

The night air slaps you awake before you even realize you've fled, your feet carrying you to a hidden corner of the garden where a stone fountain whispers secrets to itself. Here, the party exists only in echoes — distant laughter, scattered arguments, and drunken declarations of love or war floating across the manicured lawn.

You tilt your head skyward, searching for anchor points among the stars and the world narrows to just this: the cool stone beneath you, the rhythm of water, the infinite above -

"Hey."

Your body jolts to attention, the peaceful moment shattering like glass. Your eyes drop from the constellations to find a different kind of celestial body standing before you — broad shoulders blocking out stars, dark features caught in shadow, curls tumbling across his forehead.

Your mind scrambles for a name, like trying to catch smoke.

Luis? Lucas?

Luigi.

The beer pong champion himself, somehow materialized from your earlier observations like a summoned entity.

"Hey." Your body performs an awkward dance on the bench, caught between making room and trying to collapse into nothingness.

"What are you doing out here?"

The question, though innocent enough, triggers your defenses. Your response comes with teeth: "I could ask you the same thing." It's a warning label, bright and clear: Approach With Caution.

The garden's twinkle lights catch him in their amber web, transforming the beer pong champion into something softer — sweat-sheened skin, features gentled by shadow.

His posture reads like an open book written in a language you can't quite translate, neither defensive nor inviting.

Just curious.

"Well, you could." The words roll out with the same casual grace as the shoulder he shrugs, a yet-unlit joint dancing between his lips as his thumbs tap out a message on his phone's glow. "And I'd just say I live here."

The universe, it seems, has a sense of humor.

A groan slips past your defenses as mortification sets in. Of all the backyards in New York, you had to stake your claim in this one, then challenge its owner about his right to be there.

"To answer your question though-“ The words come filtered through the joint until flame meets paper. He exhales, and his next words ride out on a cloud of smoke: "I came out here to call my mom." His phone screen glows with evidence — his mother's contact photo, her name bookended by heart emojis and a simple Mama.

Something about Luigi — maybe the lingering beer pong bravado, maybe the way he wears this vulnerability so casually — still begs to be challenged. "Gotta make sure she doesn't suspect you have about one hundred NYU students in her home, hm?"

He shakes his head, the sound he makes sliding down the scale like lazy jazz. "Nah, she doesn't care about that shit." His thumb hovers over the keyboard, apparently deciding a text will suffice for tonight's check-in. "And there's definitely not a hundred people in there right now."

You study his posture — the way confidence and caution occupy the same space in his frame, like watercolors bleeding into each other. "Where's she?"

Luigi's eyes lift from his screen to find yours. "Seychelles." The message swooshes into the digital void before his phone disappears into his pocket. "Your turn."

The garden's ambient soundtrack fills the space between you, water music from the fountain where a bronze boy — who bears a suspicious resemblance to a younger Luigi — plays eternal lifeguard to the trickling streams.

Your eyes lock across the dim space, neither yielding.

"My turn to what?" The question is a stalling tactic, and you both know it.

"Your turn to tell me what you're doing out here."

Your gaze wanders the curated wilderness around you — the fairy-lit canopy, the fountain's eternal performance, the swimming pool framed by trees sculpted into shapes that belong in a vintage Playboy spread.

Everything here speaks of a life so different from yours, yet something about the engineering student standing before you, texting his mom from his own party, suggests a truth you hadn’t expected; the distance between your worlds might be shorter than it appears.

"Just needed some air." The lie falls flat, each word a domino tipping toward the truth you're trying to outrun—that existential spiral triggered by watching him earlier, wondering about the depth of his connections, only to find your own relationships reflecting back just as shallow.

Luigi claims his spot beside you, the bench suddenly alive with shared warmth. His knowing smirk and raised eyebrows speak volumes while his lips stay sealed, the silence between you stretching like taffy until -

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Getting some air." He mirrors your words back to you, a perfect echo with an undertone of challenge.

Your hands scrub across your face as if trying to erase something, and when you turn to face him, he's already there, matching your position like a choreographed dance. His eyes lock onto yours — steady, focused — as you stare back with the wild gaze of someone about to jump off a cliff.

"Do you ever think maybe you're just kinda... existing?"

There it is — your midnight confession spilling out into his garden, raw and unfiltered as the joint smoke curling between you.

Luigi catalogs you with the quiet satisfaction of someone who's just solved a puzzle — noting the timbre of your voice (hoarse from shouting over beer pong champions and top-40 hits), the way moonlight catches in your hair, how your eyes betray every thought. "I know that's what I'm doing," he nods, conviction steady as a heartbeat. "And that's enough."

"But what about the connections? What about true and real bonds?" The words tumble out as you watch him draw from the joint. He offers it your way — a bridge between strangers — but you wave it off, earning a laugh that somehow makes your existential crisis feel less like drowning.

"What about them?"

"Don't you miss having them?"

His shoulder grazes yours as he makes a face that suggests you're missing something obvious. "Existing doesn't mean I cease to create bonds or connections." His voice intensifies beside you, taking on the weight of someone that had something to convince you of. "They happen everyday."

The stare between you holds with magnetic force, compelling you to consider his truth: maybe you're the one who's been building walls instead of bridges, hiding in recycled hoodies and social media scrolls while real connections knock at your door.

"You think?" Your vision shifts, the aggressive frat facade dissolving to reveal something unexpectedly gentle around the edges.

"Well, what do you call this." His finger traces an invisible line between you, the gesture casual but weighted. "I think there's reason for everything, besides, like, cancer, or something." The statement perfectly gift-wraps his essence:

A walking contradiction — the frat boy who steps away from his own party to text his mom, a beer pong champion who philosophizes between 'likes,' an engineering major who can turn existential crisis into comfortable conversation.

"Well, it's interesting, to say the least." You're not sure if you mean this moment, this revelation, or Luigi himself. All you know is that Liz will either lecture you about garden rendezvous with her biggest crush, or demand a word-for-word replay.

Probably both.

"You think there's a reason we're both out here, then?" The question follows him as he leans forward, stubbing out his joint in a tray by the fountain. "Some sort of divine-timing bullshit?"

"I do." His conviction stands unwavering against your skepticism. "That's exactly what I think."

The sigh that escapes you carries the weight of self-awareness — maybe you're the one standing in your own way.

"Give me your phone." His shoulder nudges yours again, and you find yourself digging through your purse without hesitation, unlocking it before passing it over.

No questions asked — maybe you're already buying into this divine timing thing.

He returns your phone with a smile that seems to know something you don't. His own phone lights up with urgent news about a friend's overindulgence, likely greening out on the front lawn. "Gotta split."

You straighten your back, body still glued firmly to the bench beneath you, “Wait,” the request comes out steady, but hurried, afraid he might evaporate somewhere into the midnight air. “How - how do you do it, then?”

He settles back down, closer this time, “Do what?”

“Make it easier — connections, parties, being..” You gesture vaguely at all of him. “Present.”

Luigi considers this, his smile softening. "Maybe because I don't overthink it. Like right now — you're probably wondering if this is the right moment to ask the right question, when really..." He leans in slightly, voice dropping. "Sometimes you just have to let things happen."

The air shifts between you, heavy with possibility.

You're acutely aware of how close he is, how his eyes keep dropping to your lips as he speaks.

"Is that what you're doing?" Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. "Letting things happen?"

"I'm letting myself do what I've wanted to since I saw you having an existential crisis by my fountain."

And then he's kissing you — or maybe you're kissing him — the distinction lost in the warm press of lips and the lingering taste of smoke. It's gentle at first, questioning, until you lean into it and his hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

When he pulls back, that knowing smile returns. "See? Divine timing bullshit."

His phone buzzes again, more insistent this time. "Duty calls," he sighs, standing. "But text me. We'll work on your overthinking problem."

Read pt 2 Here ☁️

[kinnsporsche]

it's always i love you and never "leave." "huh?" "i'll tell everyone that you died in the woods. so you can go back to your brother and get to open a bar just like you've always dreamed of." "why?" "i don't know. maybe because you'd sacrifice a hand for me. or maybe because i've crossed your line. or because i... i like it when you're happy. just leave. go now before i change my mind. just go! that's an order!"

[mameillieureennemie]

Could I please suggest Sub!vi with Dom! Reader riding Vi’s face and vi cums untouched and is punished for it????

You don’t have to if you dont want to

Thanks!

-saturn

ohoho this idea had me going a bit crazy, i shan't lie to you...i hope you enjoy 👀

cw: sub!vi, dom!afab!reader, praise kink, 18+ so minors DNI or else

"such a good girl," you praise softly, smiling down at vi's pleading doe eyes. they close briefly when you grip her hair, hold solid as you rock against her mouth. her nose brushes against your clit with each thrust, causing your breath to hitch and your hips to grind harder. "doing so well for me, aren't you?"

vi's eyes cross slightly at the still pouring praise, her hands grabbing the curves of your hips like a lifeline. she hums against your sopping hole, the vibrations having you hissing, body jerking at the sensation.

"fuck vi," you gasp, fucking her face a little faster. you grab at one of your tits with your free hand, twisting the perked nipple until there's a hint of pain to the pleasure. "you're being so, ah, so good for me and—" you shudder when vi whimpers against your pussy, her head tilting up so her lips can wrap around your clit. "yes, yes—"

vi's like a live wire beneath you, her nails digging into the plush of your hips. she's staring up at you, mesmerised and face wet from the last two times you came. her skin's all flushed, a darling pink a few shades too light to match her hair. but she's gorgeous, especially when she's desperate and needing to come for the past hour.

but she's holding on for you because you told her not to come. you told that she isn't allowed until you've used her mouth to the point of satisfaction. and there's nothing more that matters to vi on this earth than pleasing you. she'd be damned if she disobeyed you; but you can see that she's faltering.

you can feel her twitching, can see the telltale sign that she's about to erupt because she loves the taste of your pussy. she's come many times from just a drop on her tongue alone; now her mouth's been flooded with it. her senses are overwhelmed with you, and she's falling fast.

"vi," you breathe, inflicting a strict tone, the one that usually has vi whining. "don't you dare come. if you come, i'll be so disappointed and you won't be my good girl anymore."

vi's eyes grow teary, as if saying she can't hold on because you taste so good, smell so good. so you lift off her face, watch her gasp for air before she's saying, "please please please—" all needy, moaning pathetically as she watches you rub at your clit in fast circles. the wet slick sound of your cunt fills the room, along with your gasping moans as you start to cum again all over vi's face and—

"i'm, i'm sorry—!" vi breathes before she's crying out, eyes rolling back as she shakes beneath you. the sight of her losing it pushes you further, drawing out your orgasm until you have to rip your hand away with a whimper.

it's a minute before you're both able to calm down, still trembling with the force of a shared orgasm. you draw in a breath, close your eyes before you're shifting your body to lay on top of vi fully.

vi's got her eyes closed, mostly to avoid your potential disappointed gaze. but she doesn't resist when you dip your slick-coated fingers into her mouth, moaning as she suckles on them greedily.

"such a bad girl," you bemoan, taking in the tempting sight of vi greedily chasing your taste. "i told you not to come and what did you do?"

"...i came," she murmurs sadly around your fingers. "i'm sorry...i didn't—"

you take your fingers out of her mouth before gripping her chin between your index finger and thumb. you squeeze until she opens her eyes, all dejected like a bullied puppy dog. you smile at her, deceptively comforting before you're leaning in to give her a kiss.

"i know you're sorry," you whisper against her lips. "but i'm still upset so..." you trail a hand down until you're playing with the hair around her wet pussy. "you're gonna have to make me feel better."

vi swallows, the flush on her cheeks darkening, as she takes in a breath.

"will you be good this time?" you purr sweetly. "take your punishment like the good girl i know you are?"

the nod vi gives is frantic, her thighs closing around your hand when it slips down to tease at her clit.

"good girl."

[gvtsfvkk]

In darkness you will feel alright

[nidbaesenpai]

WIP sketch of a fun idea i had lurking in my sketch books. Its such a stretch but stay with me,,, lost flower paper craft village where Siffrin eventually transfers those skills into woodworking. This is goes hand in hand with viet Siffrin and Loop

[thedisablednaturalist]

Apparently federal employees are the new scapegoat for the downfall of the United States..because we have more holidays and sick leave (which is still less than what other countries have) than most working class folks... Guess I'm part of the ruling class now guys 😔

[rbtlvr]

making my tags from the last post their own post, actually, because i went and did RESEARCH for this. SO BASICALLY

according to the wiki loop CANNOT crit in phase one

i dont know if their attack buff actually does anything (id have to fight them to check) since their attacks are based on percentage of your hp. BUT even if it did, they can only buff once per loop in phase one, meaning they can only do one buffed big attack per loop

regular attack does 10% hp (15% with attack buff), big attack does 17% hp (~25% with attack buff)

big attack is every third turn

guarding halves damage, halving the regular attack to 5% and the big attack to 8.5%

you heal 6% every turn with memory of a journey

those three turns where their attack is buffed aside, you can just stand there and guard and only lose a grand total of 0.5% of your hp for every three turns

this also does not take into account attack speed this is just assuming they both attack at the exact same rate. attack speed is gonna vary by level but i opened my act 6 save to check and my sif is level 76 and has 186 attack speed. they also have the scissors equipped which lower attack speed and i. cant unequip them. so. theres that too

so if youre fast enough (high level enough and dont have the scissors equipped like me. oops) you can straight up outheal all of loops attacks given enough turns + just standing there and guarding

loop does not want to hurt siffrin. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[evabby]

pleaseee write something where we threaten to or actually do leave toxic!abby 🙏🙏

walking out the door with your bags.

a/n : thank you so much for the request!! <33 i just realised i used the same pic i used for my masterlist oops

that night, you waited for abby in her apartment, the clock ticking louder with every passing minute. she was late— again, and you already felt the tension building in your chest.

this wasn’t the first time she’d done this, not even the fifth. but tonight, something felt different. you were tired of making excuses for her, tired of feeling like an afterthought.

when the door finally opened, abby strolled in like nothing was wrong, tossing her bag onto the table. she smelt faintly of weed and someone else’s perfume, instead of usual pine scent, with her braid disheveled in a way that made your stomach twist.

“you’re late,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

she shrugged, pulling out her phone and scrolling without even looking at you. “mhm,”

“you— you said you’d be here hours ago,” you shot back, the frustration bubbling up. “i’ve been waiting.”

she glanced at you, her expression sharp and dismissive as she set her phone down on the table next to her. “dont be dramatic baby, i got caught up, it happens. calm down.”

but you couldn’t calm down. you were sick of this now. “caught up doing what? you didn’t even text me.”

her jaw tightened, and she rolled her eyes. “i don’t have to check in with you every second of the day. don’t be needy.”

your voice rose before you could stop it. “it’s called respect, abby! i’m not asking for much, just a text to at least tell me so i know that you care.”

she snorted, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed. “you’re overthinking this, like always. not everything is about you, you know?”

that was when her phone lit up on the table, catching your eye. a text from a name you didn’t recognize: “can’t wait to see you again 💋💋”

your heart dropped. “who is that?”

abby’s eyes flicked to the screen and then back to you, her face unreadable. “no one. don’t start.”

“don’t start?” you repeated, your voice shaking. “you disappear for hours, come back acting like you don’t.. you don’t care, and now this? what am i supposed to think?”

she stepped closer, her tone shifting into something sharper, more dangerous. “you’re supposed to trust me. but clearly, you can’t even do that.”

trust. that word hit you like a slap. how could she talk about trust when she made you doubt everything? when she made you feel like you were losing your mind just for wanting basic decency?

“i can’t do this anymore,” you said finally, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “i can’t keep being the only one who’s trying.”

her eyes narrowed, and she scoffed. “you’re done? that’s cute. you need me more than i need you.”

it wasn’t true, but the way she said it made you pause, made you question yourself like she always did. for a moment, you hesitated, but then you forced yourself to stand your ground.

“i’m leaving,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “i’d rather be alone than keep doing this with you.”

abby stared at you for a long moment, her face unreadable. then she laughed—a cold, bitter sound. “fine. leave. but don’t think for a second you’re going to find someone who’ll put up with you like i have.”

you left that night, quickly grabbing your keys and walking out, with the door slamming behind you.

but abby wasn’t done. the texts started almost immediately:

masterlist. taglist : @scratchcat

[definitelynotshouting]

saw this post assigning devastating quotes to each life series members, got incredibly inspired, and decided to try my own hand at it but specifically with snippets of the poetry ive personally written throughout the years :] thoughts and musings on several of my choices will be under the cut if you're interested in that sorta thing!! Enjoy<3

Bdubs: "it's all so blue. so blue, so wet, so cold, but you've got a fire in your heart like a hundred rockets. you aren't hungry, but you could eat the dead, / cut your teeth on a rotting corpse."

BigB: "SOMETHING HAS FRACTURED HERE AND IT WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. EACH DAY YOU WILL CHASE THE FAULT LINES LOOKING FOR A BRIDGE ONLY TO FIND IT ALREADY BURNT."

Etho: "I am above myself, hovering, pressing pale fingers into the dull bruise of yesterday to test its lingering ache. Is this all that's left?"

Gem: "what are gods if not the mothers of our own inventions. we are the avatars of violence and love and hope and fear in equal measure."

Scar: "I think I want to live. I know one day, I must die. In the cosmic wheel of fortune, I am a gamble in the making, gentle breath washing a little luck over the dice."

Grian: "Within the shape of my clawed fingers are knives: scrabbled dirt; scarlet lines; the escape route / Between a fence and / Tall grasses."

Impulse: "Life's bitter, stilted offering / Is that every person we meet / Will one day become a perfect stranger."

Martyn: "Dangerous beasts must earn / Their survival. / You are no different than a knife / In the hands of murderers."

Lizzie: "When I think of the egg-tooth, / I revel in purple glass; the lightning; the shatter; the knife-slip between / Death, and a wake."

Mumbo: "This is your life now, / Found in the cracks and crevices, scraps pried between laughter and reckless abandon."

Pearl: "I am begging, raw in the face of absolution— do not hate me. Please, keep watering me in your garden, / Despite how closely my heart resembles a weed."

Ren: "— and sometimes hearts are forged in violence /— and sometimes blood cannot form scabs / — and sometimes wounds carry half-hearted sutures / — and we are all but living fragments / —"

Skizz: "Just a little longer. Please. / There is light pooling at the bottom of the flower vase."

Scott: "I can only hope that with the rising of the dawn / I will pass through darkness and return to day, / Where I am a solar ray blinding— teeth and claws sharpened, the stretch of my skin carrying gold / Above the dull, dug out earth"

Joel: "Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; / Yes, there is a loss."

Jimmy: "for year after bloody year, i clung to life with aching fingernails, grasped at every straw, took every scrap of double-barrelled hope and shot myself in the chest with it."

Tango: "every time you claw yourself from the ashes you insist it will never happen again. every time you reach the breaking point, it happens a little bit faster."

Cleo: "It's about catharsis, not letting go. / Because a part of me wants to hold this, / A swelling hurt deeper than tides, / Hotter than stars. The kind of rage / A mother might raise against her own child."

I dont share my poetry on here very often, partially because it tends to end up coming from a very personal part of me, but since this was actually a lot of fun maybe i'll start posting my poems more often here :]] i think what i found most interesting about this exercise was that as i scrolled my notes app and cherry-picked quotes for each character, it felt like the ones i chose naturally became part of a larger conversation-- as if the characters were speaking to me through my own words about their lowest points, about their ultimate views on the games filtered through the lens of a red life.

It felt enlightening; i dont often feel like im speaking to characters or being informed about their plots/preferences, etc. the way many other writers discuss in workshops or casually online, but by the end of this exercise i felt like i just... understood them, better than i had before. There's something inexplicable about reading your own words and consciously finding ways to apply them in a way that encapsulates them down to a character's core that just... truly highlights the specific qualities that resonate most with you. And i think stumbling upon that organically was a very vivid and incredible experience for me

Admittedly, i did struggle on Scott, Ren, and Etho a lot-- im not as familiar with them as characters, and for a while i couldn't quite pinpoint what exact themes they tend to carry with them throughout all their life seasons. But when i started to really look at everyone's quotes as a whole, i realized they felt like a story, like the response to a question-- as if i was being TOLD what they felt and how, and that that was how i needed to frame the rest of my selections. So Scott's ended up being about control, and the desperate hanging onto of it; Ren's is about the acceptance and bitterness of what he cannot change; Etho's is a quiet resignation rounded out with softer disbelief. The more i looked at these choices, the more they felt correct to me-- and while i still think i have a ways to go before i fully understand these characters, i feel like this has helped me a lot with that ultimate goal :]

Of all these poetry snippets, though, i think Scar, Skizz, and Joel's are my absolute favorites. Skizz's poem is actually the whole poem in its entirety (as is Cleo's, funnily enough)-- it's a short, very simple poem that is incredibly close to my heart for many reasons, but the main one being because it was written at one of my lowest points a few years back. Its about clawing for hope when there isnt any, and finding even the smallest of beautiful things to hold onto, and begging yourself to keep holding onto that at any cost. The pure, clean beauty of watching light refract through a vase of flowers, and knowing that sometimes, that's all there is to live for-- I felt like that really spoke to Skizz's life series character as a whole: finding the beauty in every tiny thing, no matter how small, and scrabbling for more time to appreciate it.

Scar's snippet comes from a much longer poem of mine about the difficulty of reconciling the idea of a future when you havent had to think of one before (incidentally, Etho's snippet comes from this poem as well). I think out of everyone, this quote encapsulates him the best; i like how it subtly references that inner well of vivacity he draws from that many other characters struggle to find, and how that in turn ties in with the lore that he never died a final death during Secret Life. And i love how it simultaneously manages to encompass the way he utilizes the social game in each season as well-- Scar's an incredibly intelligent social player, and i think the imagery of a gambler breathing their luck over the dice as they cast it, and as he casts himself at others for alliances and enemies, truly does fit him.

As for Joel, the full poem his quote comes from is one im particularly proud of, especially for its final lines. I think, quite honestly, i can let this poem stand for itself in its entirety:

They say transformation is letting the light in, But in my mind it's a violence. A coarseness, a fracturing, the bloody vowels between a scream And a howl. How do you transform without killing yourself? When I am a lion, my hands and feet Grow claws; my teeth sharpen. No longer do I spark— I ignite. Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; Yes, there is a loss. To transform is to leave behind a body And eat its still-breathing corpse.

I find myself referencing this poem a lot even in my daily life-- as longterm readers of mine already know, one of my favorite themes is that of replacing yourself and permanent transformation. This poem really is just about how changing, in any shape or form, alters you forever; how you can look back on yourself from even just a few months ago and feel like a completely different person despite remaining the same. Connecting it with Joel's character, and how he acts during his red lives in each season, was a natural and intuitive progression once i really sat and thought about it.

Alright thats enough yapping from me 😂😂😂 im not used to writing meta nor delving into my poetry on here, so this was a bit of an experimental post for me. If youve read up until this point, i both applaud your patience and really hope you enjoyed this window into my personal works and thoughts on them :]] cheers, and thanks to @/chipperchemical the op of the original post for inspiring me!!!❤️❤️❤️

[doodler16]

i think it wouldve made more sense if DHORKS had kidnapped via in seeing stars to interrogate her since she doesnt have a human disguise, forcing I.M.P. and stolas to lock tf in, find them and her, battle DHORKS again, but one of the agents could be killed in the fight, (accidentally as a joke even, before blitz is like, "uh, yeah, we- we MEANT to do that!",) with the other left alive as a warning from stolas not to ever put his loved ones in danger again, or else there will be even worse consequences then just being traumatized from the sight of his true demon form and losing their loved ones in return. itd make via forgiving her dad for forgetting about asaroths tears be more understandable too, instead of loona girlboss gaslighting this teen about her justified feelings towards her parents divorce and father. that way, when DHORKS come back in full moon, itd make more sense for the remaining agent to team up with the cherubs so they could BOTH get revenge, and to be taken seriously by the human government enough to get an increase in funding, since they killed one of the people responsible for exposing humans to them to begin with, making them think the demons want to cover their tracks. plus, you could even have that killed agent show up in hell if you wanted to have another goofy antagonist I.M.P. could come across at any given point! maybe even bring them back in apology tour, only for them to try shooting blitz with an angelic gun like they how they resort to gun violence in the chupacbra short. like, i dont need them to be big bads who constantly are involved in the plot. i just want them to MATTER when I.M.P. goes up on earth. one last rewrite/wishful thinking thing but, wouldve loved also if one of them dropped off a kid they were related to at that stupid ass childrens summer camp called "i wanna cum" or something, and then as a joke, have them not recognize moxxie or millies human disguise at all. they talk to them completely straight laced while m&m is internally dying inside and thinking theyre lured into a false sense of security, until the anget(s) says in full sincerity, "and, i hope it aint rude of me to mention, but, so terribly sorry about that poor skin condition of yers! :("

I’ll gladly take anything at this point regarding DHORKS. I unironically would forget about them sometimes. Honestly, I was pretty surprised Agent 1 and 2 weren’t there at the summer camp, it would’ve been a good opportunity to put them there in the background spying on Moxxie and Millie.

[pompadorbz]

Just a Little Longer

Not posting this to ao3 or anything since this fic is so itty bitty pocket sized and I don't have the energy rn. might do all that later but for now its NBD. This is just a short and kinda messy thing about TR!Phil post losing his wings after having them for 5 minutes. lol. Enjoy or dont

“...There has to be some reason.” Phil wonders aloud as he props a large log onto a stone wet from the fresh rain, readying Woodsbane on its surface in preparation to swing. With the amount of trees he chopped, it became inevitable that he’d eventually have to organize the mess. Treecapitator was nice, but it could only do so much in the way of organization.

Sneeg hums as he sits off to the side, handing off the occasional item for Crinkle to munch on– from his own inventory this time, Phil hoped. “Them having someone go rogue is pretty possible, I mean– I’ve seen it before, y’know?” Phil then adds. “There’s always some bigger force, and– and then there’s someone who wants to go against that force by getting help from outside, but…” Phil cuts himself off as he raises the axe high above his head and throws it down onto the log, splitting it cleanly in two. He immediately reaches for another log, swiping the other pieces away as if they weighed nothing and putting the new log in their place. If there was one thing he’d become from woodcutting, it was fast. Being maxed out and all– fast was the one thing he had left to be.

“...What if it wasn’t?? What if… They really only wanted you and Foolish to have them? And– And if not for an Elytra, then for what? Why wouldn’t they take it away the second you made it?” Sneeg simply shrugs. “I dunno. It doesn’t make a lotta sense to me either.” Phil sighs, zoning in on the log as he chops it cleanly once more, and then he chops another. And another. And another again. 

…What had the keepers of the realm meant when they said it “wasn’t time”?

He wondered if it was something to do with the factions like Sneeg had suggested earlier; Both him and Foolish were a part of the Kingdom, after all… Maybe that was it...? 

Or perhaps, it was due to Phil not being in a faction altogether..?

Placing another log on the stone, his eyes glance over to Sneeg. “...The fuck do you have that I don’t, mate?” He asks. He means it as a joke– he thinks that he means it as a joke. But Sneeg stands with a huff. “Look, Phil. I don’t know why this shit happened. We’re all kinda in the same boat right now.” He says defensively. “You’re gonna get your elytra eventually– this shit wasn’t fair. It’s just…”

He stares off into the distance. Something else was clearly on his mind, but Phil either didn’t particularly care right now. “...You’re just gonna have to wait a little longer, I guess.”

Phil’s grip on Woodsbane’s handle tightens despite the rain. He stares down to the last log he struck before silently flipping one of the halves on its flat end, kicking the other to the wayside. Sneeg sighs. “...I’ll leave you be for now. I gotta explain what happened to Foolish anyways, so… I dunno. Maybe he’ll have an idea of what happened.” Likely not; Phil wanted to say, but he kept silent.

Sneeg silently walks off– the only noise coming from his boots as they squelch in the wet mycelium, and his trident when he takes off into the now stormy sky. He didn’t have to look at Sneeg to know the look he was probably giving him as he left. Across what felt like a thousand different timelines, he’d seen it before about a million times over.

The apologies for his sake, the endless droves of sympathy. The sad look in people’s eyes when they said: “Oh well! There’s nothing to be done about that!”

Pity.

Every time without fail, it bore into Phil’s soul. It dug around deep in his chest until he was all but crying out in anguish, begging for it to cease, and he hated it. He hated it so, so very much.

Phil raised Woodsbane high above his head, straining as if the blade itself had hitched the loop of a halo that wasn’t there. “An angel lost his wings today.”

But they’d been lost for a long time now, hadn’t they?

“It is not yet time.”

And when would it be time?

“You’re just gonna have to wait a little longer.”

Phil’s breath hitches as he stares down at the halved log; not quite registering how his arms shook from both strain and rage as he held the axe in a crushing grip. He gritted his teeth together until his head began to pound–

–and to nobody in particular, he screamed as he swung the axe down onto the log with remarkable speed. “HOW MUCH LONGER?!” He asks, raising the axe again and barrelling down on the log once more. “HOW MUCH LONGER DO I HAVE TO WAIT?!”

And then repeatedly, Woodsbane fell upon the same log, each cut sloppier than the last as Phil hollered obscenities at the top of his lungs until his throat went hoarse. His blinding rage fizzled out into pathetic cries as he swung tiredly at nothing in particular; the log now too scattered and in pieces by then to even be truly called a log.

The cries turn hushed as he coughs and unceremoniously drops Woodsbane to the ground as he too, falls to his knees.

“...How much longer?” He rhetorically asks again, now tired and muffled as he stares to the ground, uncaring of the rain as it soaks into his clothing and frazzled hair. He thinks about what Pili had said earlier once more. Perhaps he was truly serious when he said it, but…

…An angel without wings.

It was a joke so ironic that Phil could almost laugh.  

[miquellah]

idk you guys think that maybe radahn is just treated as cool as he is because thats his IC reception within the world. like godfrey himself especially, honestly, but for some reason i dont ever really see people going to town on him

i think its rly easy to implicate about radahn actually. he’s a guy based entirely on the people around him. what kind of a person could have so much respect for him and yet still be seen as such a warmonger? and yes woah thats really similar to godfrey isnt it. i wonder what all thats about

idk mostly it just annoys me that for some reason people think radahn gets any extra special treatment or favoritism. i mean considering he ends up losing to malenia and is obviously someone who ended up on the Wrong Path, uh yeah i do guess that makes him “look bad”

i guess, just kinda like every other area of lore in this game. you kinda just need to think a little and work for it [picks nose] but idk thats just what i take from things

[causeimcrayzeebee]

wow. chapter 3. that was a lot. spoilers down below as usual.

also before we start i just wanna say to all of you guys to PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!!! ik that this week n last week were so much but please don’t forget to prioritize your health!

okay i was taking notes in my notes app while watching cause i wanted to have some reminders so i could write a coherent review on the trial but god. that fucked me up. i did genuinely really love the trial but it’s just a lot to process so i will be waiting till i write any analysis, so don’t expect any very soon LMAO um so yeah, my notes started off decently normal (lie but they were intended to be normal n serious) and then became more and more incoherent. here ya go, my notes copy pasted over here ☝️

chapter 3 yay

“exactly what it sounds like tamba” THIS BITCH CHANNELING KAMIMURA I CANTTTT 😭😭😭

HAMA TELLING WADA TO BREATHE I ALREADY TWARED UP WUAUE HAMA HELPING WADA W THE BATHROOM THATS SO SWEET

watari telling okazaki off hell yeah lets go but also IAGAH

DONT TALK ABOUT HIM GRRR

hiroaki is actually so smart n we don’t talk about that enough!!!!!! please can we talk about that more!!!!!!

OKAZAKI NOT SHUTTING UP BYE 😭

Hasegawa having to defend himself with evidence only 😭

OH MY GOD HASEGAWAS RAGE WHEN BEING SUSPECTED BC HE CARED THE MOST 😭 the va work was fantastic i got so fucking sad

watari getting itchy from the demon waves im CACKLING

HIROAKI POWERING THROUGH THE BODY DESCRIPTION LETS GO 🗣️🗣️💯💯💯💯

god i knew that was SH cuts but GOD I appreciate how much hasegawa tried to keep it private 😭

Hama being a king n bringing up the bop on the head like tambas poison theory bye

LAB SAFETY VIOLATION 😭 Okazaki label picture dropping when

FINALLY! IT WAS POISON!!!! lmfaooo she was so excited im so happy for her

hiroaki being truthful about trying to kill himself what the FUCK IM GONNA CRY

PLEASE KEEP YP WITH THE REST OF THE GROUP LMAO  STOP BULLYING HER SHES TRYING

hayashigeki divorce arc 

nah but fr what if i cried they’re both so valid but lowk yanagi got a point 😭

WHY DOES TAMBA NOT KNOW WHAT A 3D PRINTER IS I CANT KEEP DEFENDING YOU LIKE THIS 😭😭😭

they shared a bed let us REJOICE 🗣️🗣️

“when she came back from the void” “THE WHAT”

WADA RAGE WADA RAGE WADA RAGE

woodshop mention 🗣️🗣️🗣️

hiroaki being strategically logical and yanagi being more emotional god I LOVE HIRONAGI FOILS

“it seems as though we’re somewhat divided on this issue” SCRUM DEBATE 😜😜😜

yanagi using so much energy to argue with mfs 

the way hayashi gets it out of him,,, HE WAS TRYING TO OPEN THE DOOR AUAGSHS

Hama as a safety precaution in wataris room LMFAO I LOVE THIS DUO SO MUCH MORE THAN I EXPECTED

YANAGI STOP BEING SUSPICIOUS UAGAHEUE

it cannot be tamba absolutely not please that’s gotta be insane she does NOT have the motivation for that

tamba is lowk distressed :(

so technically can only be okazaki, yanagi, or tamba????? im gonna cry either way

OH I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABOUT THE SHIRT THING BEING MORE THAN THE COLD

guys pls don’t let it be yanagi

please no

guys no

god fucking no

oh right his hand isn’t working let’s go

NOT MY QUEEN HAYASHI

GIRL NOT THE TRACK RECORD MENTION 😭😭😭

nah wait why is hiroaki suddenly becoming the emotion n yanagi the logic

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

HASEGAWA HAVING A PISSED OFF WADA MOMENT AUAHSHS FUCKKK

NO NOT WATARI HIDING ON THE COAT BEING USED AS EVIDENCE EUEGEGG

sus ahh Okazaki….. with 20 minutes left……. how we feeling Okazaki nation…..

stop lying vro

wadas ribs has been added to your truth bullets

COAT REVEAL 🗣️🗣️🗣️

WATARI 😭😭😭😭😭

oh god i wasn’t expecting that

WATARII MY SWEET BABY OH MT GOD POBRECITO RUCK FUCK MT STUPJD BAKA LJFE

THE LAUGHING

WHAT

WHAT RHE FUCK

WHAT IS GOINNGGG ON

FACE REVEAL1?1?2?3?

BRO OHTTA THE FRAME

OH MT GOD

IM SCREAMING WHAT IS THIS

IM LOSING IT

WHA

IM CRYING WHATBIS THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

this is not real

SODA AT THESE LINES UPPP LMFAOAOAO

OH MY GOD THEYRE NEMESES THATS KINDA AWESOME NGL

everyone being so done with her bye 😭😭😭

SHE WANTED TSUNO SO BAD???? TOXIC ONE SIDED YURI WTF????

IM STILL PROCESSING

this is not happening

THE VOICE CHANGE

EVERYONE IS SO DONE WITH THEM IM SCREAMING

guys why do i kinda love this

tsuno didn’t gaf

WADA GET THEIR ASS 😭😭😭

there is nothing classy about whatever this is

no bc the rivalry is insane

POBRECITO WATARI

KAMIMURA DIED FOR NOTHING WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE HELL

WHAHWTWHWKE

loathing unadulterated loathing

get her ass what the fucking shit

NO CLOSING ARGUMENT??????

KAMIMURAS SHORT TOO

OH MY GODDDD

IM SCREAMING

THIS IS CRAzyyt 😭😭😭😭

WHAT IS THIS

this was villanous

GET THEIR ASS HASEGAWA PLSSS 😭😭😭😭

i am in such shock

FUCK YOU FOR MESSING WITH MY KING IM THROWING HANDS IMMEDIATELY

WATARI OH MY GODDDD AUSHSH 😭😭😭

“GO DIE ALREADY” LMFAOAO

the editing for this episode is crazy

wada so real

wada get their ass pls

END THIS SHIT ALREADY

BRO WAS CONFINED FOR A SECOND HELEPP1??1?2?2

fourth wall breaking icon??????

i think im hysterical what do you MEAN HE DIED FOR NOTHING

okay back from crying and pacing around for 10 minutes let’s continue

THE TONGUE WAS A TROPHY?????????? I need another break WHATVTHE fucke

smart to get hasegawa outta here but FUCK YOU

FUCK YOU OKAZAKI

PLEASE VOTE PLEASE PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK!!!

actually when is the Okazaki lore drop happening i need it

THIS MAKES ME SO SAD KAMIMURA DIED BEFORE ANY OF HIS DREAMS BECAME TRUE AND HE LIVED A MAINLY TRAGIC LIFE AND IT ENDED TO HORRENDOUSLY????? IM SO UPSET ACTUALLY

EXECUTE THEIR ASS

WADA PLEASE BE THE EXECUTIONER

OH MY GOD HES TRYING TO HIT THEM OH MY GOD GET THEIR ASSS

OH GET THEIR ASS HASEGAWA

HASEGAWA RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE HOLLYYYYY FUCKKKKKKKK

WHAT THE RUCWHAT THE FUCJS

WATARIIII OH MT GODDDDDDD

im in actual tears hey yeah what the hell

WATARI HASEGAWA AND WADANOH MT FUCKING GOS THIS WAS SO DESPAIRING WHAT THE FUCK. THE FUCKz THE FUCK.

WATARI 😭😭😭😭😭😭

im actually crying now

I CANT SEE THE SCREEN MY TWARS DUDE WHAT RHE HELL

THE WAY THAT THE CAST IS SO DONE WITH THEM

WELL BE FOXES OKAY? OH MY FOD STOP STIP STOPS FTOOSTBOSRN AROP IT I WILL FOLLOW YOUR FLAME WHAG IF I CRIED

im at such a loss okay trial over execution time

me too dr yonekura

IM STILL PISSED ABOUT KAMIMURA

I MISS KAMIMURA SO BAD

I MISS HIM SO MUCH OHHHHHH MY GOD BRING HIM BACK GUYS PLEAS EPLEAPELWMEPALEPALDJRPWMAPEKE

the way yonekura is so done w okazaki 💀💀

WHO OKAYED THAT HOWD THAT GET THROUGH BUDGETING IM IN TEARS

this chapter was simultaneously the most serious tetro has ever gotten and the most unserious at the same time

oh so she just like suffocated

YONEKURA DOES NOT THINK THIS WAS INNOVATIVE IM SCREAMING LMFAOAO

not an expensive motive???? oh boy

OKAZAKIS TRACK COMING IN I CANTTTT

kamimura nation I think we need a minute (a year of losing it)

THEY ARE CHANGING THE ANNOUNCMENT MID GAME?? wait a damn minute we didn’t have the three person rule before hand bye why did i not realize this,,,, fuck y’all doctors btw

WHAT

OKAZAKI WAS YONEKURAS KID???? AND THEIR NAME WAS YUME????? oh guys I need a lore drop so bad. and also to get through the staffside logs. maybe this is not the surprise it is to me I’m bye. 

the fuck is wrong with yonekura

how are parents even working

soryr i genuinely had to take another break my mom walked into the room and i had somewhat gotten it together n she asked what happened and i just started BAWLING oh my GOD it’s genuinely been so long since I’ve cried like this over a fictional character

ok we are locked in now

OJIMA WHAT THE FUCK HE TRIED SO HAR DOH MY GOD THE TEARS CAME RIFHT BACK

I DONT WANNA LEAVE YOH BEHIND OH MY GOD

HIROJIMA MY BELOVEDS

my eyeliner is GONE bro 😭

guys I really fucking love hiroaki

she done w yanagi 😞

TAMBA APOLOGY RAHAHHHH i love tamba i was a hater a bit during the trial but it’s because i love her,,,,

I LIKE YOU TAMBA YOURE SOMETHING TO ME

MY HEART OH MY GOD “I JUST MISS YOU” IM GONNA CRY AGAIN

NOW I HAVE TO FORGIVE YOU okay bro….. just say you love her…..

their friendship is so special i NEED TO DRAW THIS HUG SO BAD

THEYRE TALKING TO TSUNO

FUCK

AUAHSOEIEOE OH MT GOD

I MISS TSUNO GUYS I MISS HER SO BAD

WADA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU OH MY FOD I CHOKEE J CANT SEE ANSYTHING ON THE KEYBOARD ANYKORE

NEW WASA CLOTHES THATS SO FYXJING CUTE AWWW I LOVE THIS SO MYCH

HE WAS DRAWING HIM TO MAKE HIM AN OURFIT1?2?2?2? FUCKKKK TETRO RHINES MY LIFE SLASH POS

WADA NEW CLOTHES SPRITE WHEN

WADA HIROAKI HUG IM DRAWING THIS IMMEDIATELY

WADA HAIR CUT WADA GLOW UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️ FUCK YEAH 

im so glad we ended that on a high note that made me so happy after everything else

no hasegawa episode? interesting…. unless we get one in like an hour or something but yk wow

i do want to say that despite the emotional rollercoaster that was this trial, and the frankly INCREDIBLY UNEXPECTED outcome, i did like it narratively. ik the decision of having okazakis character go this direction is gonna be incredibly controversial amongst the community but i really loved it. kamimuras death was almost meaningless, that’s tragic AS FUCK. but “meaningless” deaths happen. it’s not strange to kill off a character for no reason, because people die unfairly way more than we even want to think. and it SUCKS. it sucks SO BAD. but it’s not unrealistic. I think the unserious tone of Okazaki really made the tone of the entire series become even darker and more sinister. wow, anyways take what im saying here w a grain of salt bc im kinda hysterical rn so yeah.

PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF YALL!!!! in the end, it heavily impacts us because these characters mean things to us, but PLEASE prioritize yourself <3