#i cant even fit enough space for one more language it would KILL me

[nejiiki]

pspspsps

since u said it's okay!

嘿！你好吗？<33

HIHI HELOW BAMBAM <333

我今天还好！我刚离开学校，正在搭地铁回家。我在课程是在桌底下读呪術廻戦，因此没有感到太无聊！但今天天气好热 😭😭 though tbh everyday is like that and like the fault is entirely ours bc of global warming ://

ANW there was also a new tokrev chapter released this morning 我等不及下��星期三！

all in all 今天还不错，��呢？

[personasintro]

bruhhhhh what about a drabble in which y/n is a little TOO drunk and jimin and tae cant handle her after they brought her back to her apartment so jk the mf king comes to beat her ass 🥊🥊🥊 ( and he is like able to shush her and shes intimidated by him ) 😏✨🤭

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: I hope you’re enjoying these!! please let me know what you think about it and if I should write more of them x

##

You’re not the one to usually get fucked up.

With friends like Taehyung and Jimin, you’re usually the one looking after them and calling them a cab so they get home safely. They’re the wild ones that love to party, talk to other women and spend the night making out with them, if not inviting them to their apartments for a casual hook-up.

So, when the time comes and you tell yourself to “fuck it” because you’ve to loosen up and release all the tension from your new job and the responsibility that comes with it, you’re the one that needs to be taken care of.

However, even though you’ve planned to drink a little more tonight than you usually do, you haven’t planned to get fucked up at one of those nights where Taehyung insisted on going to a club. Again.

To be honest, you’re not sure what he likes about clubbing that much. You don’t like it but you go, because it’s always fun with your friends. But there are other factors that make you literally go “nooo” when someone proposes to go clubbing. Like all the people, sweaty people, that don’t know anything about personal space. Some of them probably carry perfumes, most of them being women because you could always smell the mix of different perfumes whenever you’d enter the restroom. It’s not a nice smell though. It makes you vomit and especially when you’ve had enough.

Not mentioning all the intrusive guys who are drunk and just looking for a vagina they could fuck.

It sounds as if you’re going clubbing often, but you’re not. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d barely go clubbing because you’re not the type to want that on your own. It’s not usually your idea to go, if ever. But everything seems fun with your friends and honestly, you feel comfortable enough to go with them.

Friends, who probably find you very difficult and annoying at the moment as they’re trying to make you sit on the small bench in your corridor.

“I hate clubbing,” you mutter drunkenly at them, laughing when Taehyung gets on his knees in front of you and tries to grab your ankles to take off your heels.

“We know, you tell us that every time you get wasted.” Taehyung mutters, ignoring the way your mouth falls open in disbelief.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin scolds him, getting on his knees as well to help Taehyung who seems to have trouble with taking off your heels.

Giggling through the entire time, you’re suddenly reminded of something when you look at the two men in front of you, seeing nothing but the top of their heads. “I got two men on their knees.”

Taehyung looks up, cocking his brow at you and finding you extremely annoying as you’re laughing to the point your shoulders shake. Jimin chuckles, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder as he breaks out a grin before they finally get your heels off.

“Kook, we’re taking her to the bedroom!” Jimin calls out to Jungkook who must be somewhere in your apartment. You can’t remember where he went.

“Oooh, sounds… exciting boys!” you joke, your voice resounding in your apartment.

Jungkook chuckles at that, currently in your kitchen preparing you a glass of water and pulling out painkillers from one of the cabinets. You’ll need it for sure. There’s a lot of commotion coming out of your room, something about taking off your make-up which makes Taehyung groan loudly. Jungkook doesn’t fight off the amused grin, only because now Taehyung finally understands how annoying he’s being when he’s drunk. Or at least he hopes he understands.

Jungkook pulls a coke out of your fridge and pours some for himself and for the guys, knowing they’ll have to wait until you fall asleep so they can go. Honestly, Jungkook wonders if one of them should spend the night just in case you get sick. Which you probably will because he hasn’t seen you this drunk in a while. You mentioned something about work when you first entered the club and had your first drink. However, Jungkook wonders if the problem lies somewhere else and that is Heaven. Or whatever his name is.

You’ve been dating for a while and it’s been only over two weeks since you mentioned the relationship isn’t what it used to be. He can smell a break-up in the air and he wonders if you got drunk because it either already happened or you know it will. Maybe he’s just overthinking this. Maybe you just wanted to have fun and get fucked up like Taehyung and Jimin do on a daily basis.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung suddenly yells, the door being opened before they’re loudly shut, Jimin’s soft but loud voice heard for a second.

Jungkook straightens up, ready to make a way over there but before he can move, Taehyung already storms into the kitchen. Face read and annoyed as he looks out of breath, as if he was fighting off a—

“Demon,” Taehyung breathes out, “Y/N is a freaking demon when she’s drunk.”

Jungkook laughs, “She’s just drunk, Tae.”

“Yeah, and she just slapped me for apparently pressing her eyes too harshly when I tried to take off her make-up because she can’t go to sleep without taking it off. God, that woman is a nightmare when she’s drunk!”

“It’s not like you’re a dream when you’re drunk,” Jungkook murmurs, earning a huge glare from Taehyung who keeps his mouth shut because deep down, he knows he’s just as bad.

“Go there! She’s your responsibility right now!” Taehyung exclaims loudly as Jungkook rolls his eyes and puts his body to a move as he brushes past Taehyung.

He barely gets to hold the doorknob before the door is being pushed open again and exhausted Jimin makes eye contact with him. “Great, you’re here!”

Jimin is out of the room and quickly joins Taehyung in the kitchen. Bastards…

Jungkook warily makes it into your room, looking around and barely noticing the flying pillow aimed at him. He catches it at the last minute, frowning at you as you’re standing at the corner of your room next to your closet, still wearing the dress that you wore to the club.

“What was that for?” Jungkook exclaims, watching you drunkenly and messily walk towards your bed before you take another pillow. Before Jungkook knows it, it’s thrown in his direction all over again and he catches it effortlessly and stomps his way over to you.

You’re screaming as if he’s about to kill you, trying to get away from him by jumping onto your bed and getting off the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook asks, trying to get you from the other side but for a drunk person, you’re quick and make it out of your bed while standing in the middle of the room.

Jungkook stands there, watching you with narrow eyes for a moment. You do the same thing, stumbling a little. Jungkook uses the moment of surprise and he rushes over to you, not giving you any time to react and even when you try to, he gets a hold of you.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook groans when you trash in his arms, “Calm down, you need to get to bed. You’re going to hurt yourself, you damn woman.”

“No!” you whine, gasping when Jungkook lifts you up while his arms are wrapped around your waist, tossing you to the bed.

“Stop it,” he scolds you in a warning, pointing his finger at you which makes you slouch your shoulders in defeat. “What’s the matter?”

“I wanna go clubbing!” you pout, slapping your hands beside your sides like a bratty kid which makes Jungkook roll his eyes at your behavior.

He hears Jimin and Taehyung peeking out behind the door, watching the scene in front of them with curious and amused eyes. Jungkook glares at them but they just grin at them, silently telling him “See?”.

“You’re acting like a brat, Y/N,” Jungkook comments, sitting on the edge of your bed as you dramatically gasp. “And you’re drunk. You wanted to go home just a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” you ask, holding your head high as you’re fighting off the pout again. “Well, I wanna go back. I changed my mind.”

“You can’t just change your mind,” Jungkook shakes his head, “You’re already home.”

“You’re no fun,” you comment, tossing yourself on the back as you stare at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna be alone here.” you almost whisper, not really sure why you just admitted that all of a sudden.

Just a minute ago you were having fun and wanted nothing but be alone.

“We could stay here…” Jungkook reminds you softly. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can you? I think I’m gonna throw up once I fall asleep.” you admit, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. You sound so innocent and child-like. If you weren’t wearing that tight dress, he would actually believe you’re a kid for a moment.

“How about you change your clothes and put some pajamas on? We’re gonna set the couch and stay the night.”

“You’re not gonna fit there!” you whine, “Can you stay here with me?”

It wouldn’t be the first time you guys share a bed, but ever since you started dating Haechan there weren’t many opportunities to do that, nor were you looking for those opportunities. You’re not sure how he’d like that and just out of respect, you and Jungkook mutually understood you should tone it down even though nothing ever happens. You’re friends.

“You sure?” he asks, raising his brow. You might be wasted but you can still think logically, which couldn’t be said five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “Can you rub my back though?”

Jungkook laughs, Jimin and Taehyung join too who are still watching the two of you and how easily Jungkook has handled you. “Deal, but be in bed in your pajamas once I come back. Or no back rubbing.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches, standing up as he looks at you in annoyance. You’re such a brat, you know he hates being called that and you’re still teasing and annoying him even in your current state.

Taehyung cackles and Jimin joins too, not being able to hold it any longer as Jungkook rushes them out of the door to give you the privacy. Once Jungkook makes it to your room to check on you, you’re patiently waiting for him and his back rubs patting the spot next to you. God, he thought you’d fall asleep.

But he joins you, rubbing your back just like he promised until you fall asleep so he can take a shower. Jimin and Taehyung are already sprawled on your couch, talking a bit before they fall asleep too. And when you wake up in the middle of the night, Jungkook holds the bucket for you until you fall asleep again, silently apologizing.

The next morning, Taehyung doesn’t forget to remind you what a pain in the ass you were which causes Jimin to scold him while Jungkook glares at his older friend. But you easily tell him to fuck off, reminding him all of the times he was the one being annoying and a pain in the ass.

Jungkook doesn’t fight off the grin he gives you. You can take care of yourself, maybe not entirely when you’re wasted but you can easily handle Kim Taehyung.

[writersarchivex]

Old Friends- Kyle Spencer Oneshot

a/n: this is kind of trash but i thought it was kinda cute.

warnings: adult language, mentions of death.

Y/N has been attending Robichaux's Academy for a while now, and after years of being here she’s seen a lot. Death, mysterious accidents, and lots and lots of stupid witches doing stupid stuff.

When Zoe and and Madison decided to come running to her, asking for help putting a boy back together, she was sure she was high.

“Okay what the fu- what did you guys do?” She asked frantically getting her stuff together.

Y/N was a pretty sophisticated person. She did her best to not get caught up in the drama, but she knew she had to help. They wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.

“There’s no time Y/N. Please just help. He doesn’t deserve what happened to him.” Zoe yelled.

Zoe didn’t exactly look guilty. Y/N felt that Zoe really wanted to help this man due to her own self preservation.

“Fine. Just get me coffee or something after we are done.” Y/N sighed, not really knowing what kind of mess she had gotten herself into.

—

Out of all places to preform a spell, the morgue is not ideal. First of all, it’s stinks. Death and bleach pretty much covers it.

She looked around at the discarded limbs and bodies, it was quite sad actually. They were real people, and whatever Madison did killed them all. Pretty painfully she could assume.

“Oh Christ almighty you guys,” She paused looking around the small room once more.

“Which one is it.” She rolled her eyes, taking out the supplies needed for the spell.

Madison pointed, and to be honest Y/N had already decided she was going to make the other girls do the dirty work. She might be okay with doing the spell, but she sure isn’t going to touch all over these five day old corpses.

“Get what you need and put him on the table.”

—

Y/N finally was ready. The other two witches had grown impatient, and they were ready to leave. At this point Madison had already mentioned ditching Y/N and just leaving to get lunch.

Thankfully, Zoe said no.

Y/N walked over to the body, already noticing a heap of blond hair.

“Oh my God-” Y/N gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.

She had no problem with death usually. To her it’s a part of life. This tough, shook her to her very core.

Kyle Spencer’s lifeless form stared up at her. Her best friend from back at home. She felt sick to her stomach all of a sudden.

“Oh just fix him already bitch. I have places to be.” Madison huffed, looking over her nails.

Y/N resisted the urge to kill her on the spot. That would certainly make waves back at the academy.

“I know him. Knew him. Whatever let’s just get this over with.” Y/N spoke sadly, before her eyes roamed over him once more.

——

After a long an exhausting process, she had done it. The spell was done, and all she had to do was wait for the boy to wake up. Unlike her fellow witches, Y/N was actually quite educated on the spell she had just done.

She knew quite well what was going to become of poor Kyle, and she hoped that she would be able to fix it. She didn’t want him to be cursed to a life like that.

Zoe and Y/N sat side by side. Madison had long since ditched the two of them.

“You can go. I’ll take care of him. I’m sorry, I mean it must suck to see someone you were close to like that.” She stuttered.

Zoe was always a bit intimidated by the other witches, except for Nan of course. Nan was such a sweet person, everyone loves her.

“I’m fine. I’m going to probably go. Good luck with him.” She smiled, standing up.

—-

It had been about a week, and Y/N had done everything she could to learn how to fix Kyles mind.

She was sure by now that she could do it, but she was surprisingly nervous that she would mess him up even more.

Y/N was sitting on her bed when the door opened up harshly, startling her a bit.

Zoe pushed a very much so zombied Kyle into the room, and locked the door behind her.

He was being surprisingly calm toward Zoe, as long as she wasn’t touching him, he wouldn’t get all freaky and try to murder her.

“He just- Just killed his mom. Y/N please I cant do this anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

She didn’t know very much about his mom, but she knew enough. She wasn’t a very good woman, and although Y/N hated to say this, his mom

deserves what she got.

It was now though, that she locked eyes with Kyle. She could’ve sworn she saw his body relax almost immediately.

“Y/N-” He muttered out before rushing to her feet.

He clung desperately to her jean clad legs, and Y/N dared her hand to move to the top of his head, gently massaging his scalp.

Then she saw the blood. He was covered nearly head to toe in his disgusting mother’s blood. This caused a bit of anger to well up inside her.

“First you kill him. Then you make me bring him back to life. Then you don’t even have the fucking decency to clean the blood off him. Get out please, I’ll take it from here.” Y/N stated sharply.

The mere sight of Zoey was beginning to annoy her deeply, and she knew that if the girl stayed much longer, it wouldn’t end well.

Zoe sighed and stepped slowly out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with Kyle.

He was still a mess. Latched on to her legs and whimpering, the man was completely broken.

Kyle must remember her from their childhood. They had quite a defining friendship, and she understood why he remembered her. She was glad that he could feel safe with someone.

He was probably scared to death. Well he’s already dead, but still.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She said softly to the boy in front of her.

She carefully took his arm, and led him to the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to scare him more than he already was.

—-

She had been successful in cleaning him up, the blood was no longer under his nails and matted in his hair.

She gave him one of her bigger flannels, hoping that and the random pair of jeans she had found would fit him okay.

They are sat on the edge of her bed, internally she was trying to decide on whether or not she would try this spell or not.

She turned to look at him. His soft features resembled the look of a toddler at this point, he was staring into space, and he had been chewing on his fingernail intently.

She made up her mind, and she began to speak slowly.

“Kyle honey, i’m going to help you okay. Don’t be scared.” She said lowly, and he nodded a bit before looking at her.

Curiosity washed over his face as she pulled out the large book full of spells and other ailments.

“Let’s get started then.”

—

It wasn’t perfect, but she had helped. He still stumbled a bit over his words, and his feet but he was pretty much back to normal.

Y/N felt ashamed at how powerful she felt. She never knew that she could accomplish something so big.

She stuffed her feelings down, and did her best to explain everything to him. It was a lot to take in but he just nodded along.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I shouldn’t have let Zoe take you.” She said looking at the floor.

Kyle finally had a chance to look at her and really take in the sight. She had grown since last he’d seen her. Her hair was much fuller, and her eyes seemed to be a lot brighter. He had missed her. Every time something cool at school would happen, he desperately would want to tell her. She was gone though, and he had lost his best friend.

He had always loved her, and as the groggy memories came back, he new what he had to do.

He took a very slow and careful step towards the witch and placed his trembling hand on her cheek.

“It’s not your fault. You saved me Y/N.” At this point, he was sure her face was turning a dark shade of pink.

“Kyle I-” Y/N didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Kyle had placed his chapped lips on hers.

Everything she had wanted as a child was finally coming true. She had always loved him. Loved him more than best friends love each other.

They made each other’s lives complete. She was the only one that could rescue him from his mind in their teenage years. He was the one to comfort her when she was scared of the roaring thunder outside.

“I’ve missed you, Kyle. I’m sorry I had to go away.” The witch spoke, feeling tear pool in her eyes.

Her magic was starting to run kind of wild, and the candles in the room lit up, blazing fiercely and causing large shadows to appear on the bedroom walls.

He looked around in amazement, but turned his attention back to the woman when he heard a sniffle.

He wrapped his arms around her, and laid back so they could both look at the ceiling.

The two of them stayed like that, until the next morning. They were woken by a very confused Cordelia Goode.

[zeldasayer]

Loving Din X - Thunder Only Happens When It’s Raining

Pairing: Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: Finally reunited with your love Din and your sweet green bean Baby, life on the island isn’t what you were expecting.

*Whilemina & Stark are your parents

Warnings: ANGST, lengthy depictions of depression/hopelessness

“Listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost”

The wind tries to push the door open with more force than you expected and you catch it before it slams into the wall, heart racing as the sound would have probably made you fall a part. You pull the door closed behind you and press your back against it. The wind whipping your hair behind you as tears fill your closed eyes and your mind tries to drown in the sound of the crashing waves, the whirling wind. Anything. You want to drown in anything.

The wind is warm and it hugs you in your loneliness and you wish you could make yourself move. To run as far away as your feet will take you. Until they are raw and red with blood, and you’ve forgotten your name. But you’re gripping the door to the bungalow as if it is the only thing keeping you from falling off the edge of the universe.

You were once overjoyed with the thought of being reunited with Din & Baby. To live together again, in the warmth and sunshine. You wanted to revel in the fact the Din’s hair has gone curly from the humidity. That Baby has to be fashioned tiny shorts to keep up with the heat. You wanted to stare longingly from the beach as Din rushes to the shore after Baby, scooping him up before his tiny toes touch the water, and hearing Din pant, “How do you get down here so fast? Where do you think you’re going to swim to?”

Instead you are plagued with insomnia. Laying silently next to Din as the weight of the room suffocates you every night. The sound of waves crashing, that you thought to be so soothing, sounds like an airspeeder crash that you cant stop from happening over and over again. The sound of Din’s breathing, that once kept you grounded does nothing to help your panic. Not even Baby’s soft snoring keeps you in your body, as Baby can no longer fall asleep alone in his own bedroom. Everything has changed. Din can’t leave for his new job teaching sign language in town without you being up before him to look into his eyes. Not in a loving way, but in a way to memorize how the irises meet the pupils, the lines in the skin around them, and the eyebrows above when you were previously satisfied with just a kiss on the head with no disturbance to your slumber. You can’t explain the reasons, but you feel if you don’t memorize one part of his face every day before he leaves, you’ll lose it forever. It’s all you can focus on, the possibility of forgetting. The possibility of losing. You feel isolated in your focus, channeling all the terror, the rage, the exhaustion into feeling absolutely nothing at all. You often wonder if you’re some knd of masochist for it depresses you immensely, yet there is a great deal of comfort in the emptiness. It’s safe in the emptiness. In the emptiness you don’t have to tell Din you can’t sleep because the thought of waking up and he’s gone again is enough to kill you from the inside, out. In the emptiness you don’t have to think about how devistating it is you can’t even take a bath anymore without Baby thinking he has to live without you again. It was sweet at first - the first night you were reunited, Baby whined until you let him sleep with you and Din. You loved it, together again with your sweet boys. But it didn’t stop there, Baby shrieked in tones you had never heard before every time Din walked away from you as he held him. Climbing up over his shoulder, arms reaching out for you, the look of fear in his eyes, for even mundane things like walking out to the beach before you as you made lunch. Baby didn’t trust Din anymore and it was evident almost instantly. Only weeks into being back together you had your green bean up on the counter, watching you attempt to get your bearings back within your art. Which really meant standing in front of the canvas all day as you had a one sided conversation with your boy. The back doors were open, for the breeze throughout the the morning and when Din came home in the afternoon the front door swung open with such force, it hit the wall. This was the first time this happened, and it was all you needed to shift into a state of feral protection. Heart racing, you scooped Baby up and in a moment of uncertainty, turned your back to the door, shaking with ragged breath, you crouch to the ground.

“My moon...” Din says softly.

You inhale sharply and turn to put Baby back on the counter. Your eyes are wide and you don’t know what you’re feeling. It’s like when you were a child and every emotion would happen at once, you’re older now but you still choose rage over them all. It’s the easiest.

“What the fuck Din? Would you watch the goddamn door, Jesus Christ!” You bark at him but you don’t stop. You rip into about how inconsiderate it is to let the doors slam, reminding him you have a child and if he wants another he’ll have to learn how to be more respectful with the noise. You don’t know who’s speaking for you, it just keeps spilling from your mouth with the intention to hurt. Speaking loudly as to not hear the terror and confusion rattling around in your mind or your heart that’s still racing through your chest. The rage within fires on as Din does nothing to stop you. He stands there, lips pursed and eyes hollow, just taking it. Your words that have absolutely no justification because you wont tell him what’s going on inside, but he knows you. He knows you’re floating between planets in this moment and you don’t trust your own emotions. He’s seen it before, and you need to make a conscious effort to come back down.

“Hey!“ Din yells, yanking your wrists up and pressing your hands to his chest. “It’s me. It’s Din. Come back down to the planet, I’m here. Tell me what is wrong, what can I do?”

You dig your fingers nails into the flesh through his shirt and he tightens his grip around your wrists.

“Everything hurts-“ you whisper but are cut off by what you can only assume was Baby believing that Din was hurting you and acting to protect you.

Din is pulled away from your embrace, slipping through his hands as he grunts in confusion. And with a force much greater than you could ever push him, he slams into a door frame on the opposite wall, falling to the ground.

Both your hands clasp over your mouth with a gasp as the panic sets in all over again. Pushing through it, you rush to him, scolding your boy as you kneel between Din’s legs. “Baby, no!”

You lift Din’s big beautiful face with your hands, as Baby turns his back to you and sits on the counter, head down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, sitting up.

You push the hair out of his face, then bite your lip and look up to the ceiling. Wondering, how did we get here? As your eyes fill with tears.

Din wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your chest, “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... I’m sorry...”

Din is always sorry now.

He’s sorry you can’t sleep, he’s sorry your appetite and your inspirations have died, he’s sorry Baby doesn’t stop crying, he’s sorry you curl into a ball every time he tries to arouse you, and he’s sorry he’s the reason for all of it.

Because even though there is comfort in the emptiness, it is still the same place where Din’s finger tips now feel like hot iron. It’s the same place where even if you get a wink of sleep, you have that same dream of Din leaving with Baby in the armour. The emptiness is where you feel yourself slipping into the likes of your father and you watch yourself do nothing about it. Din is always sorry yet he never tries to help you the way Wilhemina did Stark. Are you and Din no better than two people who were never even truly in love?

In the emptiness you’re too scared to tell him how it truly feels. That you’re drowning every single day and how you don’t know how you fit into the galaxy anymore. You’re scared to tell him you feel like you did as a child and you don’t know what is looking back at you in the mirror again. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, this wasn’t supposed to be your life and at one time you didn’t know who you’d be if you weren’t Baby’s mom or the love of Din’s life but now you don’t know where you fit with them either.

It is so fucking lonely in the emptiness for every day it feels like you’re screaming out to Din and Baby, but they can’t hear you. That you’re running your finger down the bridge of Din’s nose, or the space between Baby’s eyes, but they don’t feel a thing. That you’re standing in the middle of the room bleeding out the universe in your heart that they’ve lived in for so long, but they don’t even see you.

A bolt of lightening lights up the ocean and it snaps you out of your trance. You wish you could live in the flashing light, and how it turns the water into clear blue crystal before you. Your feet finally move for you as you sink into the cold sand one step at a time, but you don’t know where they’ll take you. You want to become the ocean, the stars, the sand beneath you because they are useful. They are needed, they are beautiful. Maybe you could love Din more completely if you were the ocean he adored swimming in, or care for Baby properly if you were the sand he liked to let fall through his three small fingers. You are nothing to them if you are but your mind and your body operating as two separate entities.

Today you wept in the kitchen sink until your collarbones hurt, because Baby tried to heal you the way he does with cooking burns and small cuts. You didn’t even realize you had crawled up into your mind as you cut fruit for Baby to eat, trying to count every hair on your body that stood up from the breeze through the window. Trying to think if there were more ways you’d be useful as the breeze that flows through the bungalow and rustles the palm trees above than what you were now. Kissing Din would be easier as the breeze, you would be delicate again, like the life you once lived and that is almost enough. It’s not until you feel Baby’s hand on your forearm that you’re brought back into the room. You look down to find him with the look of concentration across his small face and you know what he’s trying to do.

“Oh no, Baby.” You coo, pulling his hand away from you. “You can’t heal this, my love.”

You mean for your words to come out as a joke at your own expense, but you could barely choke through them.

Another bolt of lightening cuts through the sky and it stops you with a gasp. The gravity of your life now weighing on you as you realize you’re ready to become the ocean instead of telling Din you don’t feel like a human being anymore, only because you don’t want him to blame himself. For you understand he did what he had to do, and you’d rather feel like this than live without him and Baby at all, so why is it so fucking hard? You’ve forgiven him, you’ve decided to move on together so why does it feel like you don’t know him at all? You are so full of rage because you know you are holding yourself back and you are so full of rage because you’re just like your goddamn father.

Aren’t you?

“Y/N!” You hear from behind and when you look back, you see Din pulling on a shirt as he steps off the deck and into the sand.

“What are you doing?” He calls again as he gets closer, and you suddenly feel like Baby. Where would you swim to?

You don’t answer, just watching his curly hair flowing back in the wind. All you want is to run your fingers through it, to feel it like you used to. You want everything to feel like it used to, but it’s too much to even look Din in his eyes and you turn out to the water.

He tries to take your hands, but you pull away and he rubs his jaw.

“You gotta let me in.” He sighs.

You look back at him with wide eyes. You’ve had this conversation before. Years ago, when you found Din’s modified blaster, before you knew he was a Mandalorian. That seemed simpler than this but nothing would have changed if Din hadn’t talked to you that night.

“Something is wrong.” You say, pulling your hair behind your ears in a way to tame it in the wind. “Something is wrong with me.”

Din looks up as it starts to rain, but neither of you move.

“I don’t feel the same, Din. Nothing feels the same. I don’t know where I fit anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, stepping toward you as you tense up, crossing your arms.

“I know you’re sorry,” you say through closed eyes and a tense jaw. “But what you’re sorry for doesn’t even matter anymore. Din, something is wrong.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

The words are caught in your chest and it physically pains you. “I want to become the ocean.”

Din looks confused, “What are you talking about?”

“When I was growing up, the only thing that kept me going was the belief that one day I’d be better. But now I’m older and maybe this is just it. Maybe I’ve felt all that there is to feel, and this is it for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Din shakes his head. “I need you.”

“What about what I need?”

“What does that mean?” Din demands, rain dripping down his nose.

“I don’t know!” You cry.

“What do you know?”

“That I love you.” You yell over the rain, “That I love you so much, but my head is too messed up. I’m tired of feeling this and it won’t stop, Din. It won’t stop and I’m so scared.”

Din takes your face in his hands, “Let me help you, my moon. Please.”

As hot tears mix with the cold rain, you bite your lip and shake your head, “What if I’m not enough anymore for you, or Baby?”

“You are all we need. This is just a moment, it will pass. Like your father’s.”

You clutch Din’s wrists, “I thought I was like my father, but I’m worse. He was brave. I am nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” Din exclaims, wiping the tears and rain from your cheeks. “The sun rises and sets for you. You and only you.”

It’s the first time Din has said that to you since before he disappeared and you feel like you’re going to collapse. “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore. I’m not strong like you Din. I want to be strong and beautiful like you, but I don’t know how.”

“You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever known. We’re going to get you help my moon, I promise.”

“Why are you like this? I’ve done nothing but hurt you. Pick fights and push you away.”

“I don’t care.” Din shrugs.

“Din, I haven’t touched you in weeks.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. Everything you’ve ever given me has felt like the first time. I waited 35 years for you, I’ll wait 1000 more.”

You search Din’s face trying to find one line, one section of skin, a reflection in his eye that looks familiar but you come up empty.

“Din, what if I never want to touch you again?”

Tags: @otherthingsinhead @aeryntheofficial @maryan028 @readsalot73 @osric-the-l3m0n-l0v3-demon @capsironunderoos @antclottz @intense-sneezing @igotmadskills @applesislife @marrvelle-fics @killtherandomness @holyground1996 @taoiichii @kyoko-yuuki @bookwormmarvel @xplrreylo @the-resident-demon @sad-anxious-girl @jaegers-and-kaijus @drinkfantasy @forbidden-darkness @hyveee @fangirlfreakingout @petalduck @fahhhhq @thatonebishsstuff @midnightsinger @jenniferdaniels12 @hiscyarika @tryn25 @raveviolet @watsonwise @aproperthottie @lettonystarkbehappydamnit @hyunjins-wife

A/N: I love you. Love, Zelda

[just-call-me-johnny-archive]

TW: Suicidal ideation, past suicide attempt mentioned, abusive language, stalking, paranoia, dreamlike body horror, panic attack. Reader discretion is advised.

He's there again. It's night time; they are both out drinking on the balcony. Crickets chirp and turn into a background white noise. His hair is short and blue and whips with the Summer wind. His eyes are still sharp and just barely shadowed as they look over the dewy streets of a sleeping city. 

He hears the other man take another sip of his drink and then take a drag of a cigarette. Johnny is surprised when it doesn't burn the inside of his nostrils like before. 

Despite knowing he had been drinking at some point before this time, Johnny just keeps the bottle in between his legs. Some sort of cherry wine cooler. Fruity pansy mocktail shit, as Edgar so endearingly referred to them as. 

And it's this thought alone that reminds Johnny that he is dreaming, because in his memories- Edgar is never sarcastic or mean. He was funny and a little rude but in a cute way to Nny. 

But to Johnny, he feels a living resentment that he can't show. 

"You know you'll never be good enough for them, right?" He exhales, talking as smoke billows out and he's just blowing off steam on Johnny. His brain is because Edgar is not actually here and there's no way in Hell that Johnny spontaneously decided to pay the apartment a visit. 

Nny or Johnny or whoever he is here, looks over to Edgar and says 'what?' Confused and yet knowing and frightened that he does but dreams are just metaphors and he can't control anything here as usual. Just watch and play pretend and act and wait to awaken safe and far away. 

"Don't act stupid," the man says rolling his eyes harshly and flicking his finger and cigarette towards Johnny. "You know what I'm talking about. You don't think I can't see what you actually dream about? How much you just ache to be that man's little bug. Well I'll tell you now Swallowtail, you're no match for the Joneses over there." 

"I mean, really? You couldn't have picked a worse couple to crush on, Nny. They are not even in the same sport as you, let alone league. Allow me to put it in perspective." 

Vargas puts the cigarette at the corner of his lips and raises his hands a large amount of space apart. 

"You're… discount putt putt in a two-star shopping center. And they are a Super Bowl played and broadcasted on the Moon." 

He laughs and inhales while Johnny's mouth is set in a firm line. Unable to say anything. Unsure what to say because he's right. He is always right and even in a fucking dream he won't let this aware version of the bastard see him cry ever again. 

"Look at you, can't even fucking laugh. I bet Leera can laugh. Bet she has the cutest little laugh that makes your precious Counselor's heart flutter. I also bet you can never do that for him." 

Johnny blinks, looking away, face hot and eyes burning. He will scoop them out he swears he will because there's no consequences here. He can dig that lump in his throat out too and toss it like a little rubber bouncey ball you can get in those coin slots dispensers. 

"Oh wait. No, I lied. You do, but more in a heart attack kind of way. Tell you what, Swallowtail, you sure know how to whore for attention. If you honestly believe that anything they're doing for you is for any other reason than you're a basket case sob story and slash or your sister and her whole goddamn family are royalty and slash or highly powerful people who have Dr. Jack Daniel's by his dick- then you're screwing yourself, my dear." 

Johnny sets a frown and speaks, finding it easier to do than he thought it would be. 

"I do know that." You don't have to keep fucking telling me how worthless I am and how much I'll never fit in with anything or how everyone who loves me does it out of pity or that I'm just kidding myself that anyone actually cares. I know that i fucking know that i cant ever forget you never let me forget. 

His throat burns like the words stuffed down his throat. 

"Good boy," Edgar says, grinning at the glassy eyed look that Johnny has trained on the drink in his grasp, wiping the condensation away with a shaky finger. 

"I am sorry though, Swallowtail. It must be hard knowing that the only worth you have is as slavery towards your homicidal duties. You'll spend the rest of eternity irredeemably worthless with no reprieve of going mad to save you. Every day you'll be stuck with no one but yourself and whoever you may have… recruited in your delusion will be dead. Because see- immortality is a gift that just keeps giving. You'll live long enough to see all of the people who claim to love you in this life, grow old and die away or be gruesomely murdered and take that fragile bordered love with them." 

"So, if I were you- and honestly, no offense, I am very glad I am not- I would just focus on the fleeting moments you have now and stop filling your little head with fantasies of being Jack's boytoy, because darling- may I remind you- any love that you think you feel or care or whatever- is temporary. When they die- it dies. So essentially, my dearest Swallowtail, you'll eventually kill that too." 

Edgar takes another drag and then lets the cigarette fall to the concrete, crushing it with the toes of his dress shoes. "Which- as a recap- is all you're ever going to do." 

He reaches over and pats Johnny's cheek and the man flinches, making a few of the tears he had been holding back fall down his cheeks. 

Vargas then gets up and goes towards the balcony door and Johnny's body spasms a little and he finds himself surrounded by pitch black, and the familiar sounds of the room allow him to quiet his whimpered gasps down. 

His breath levels out as he lets the tears fall as the dream fades away slowly. He still remembers a chunk of it. Enough to bring him back to the practice of making sure his cries are silent and quick and draining because he wants to be heard and held and told they're all lies of an exhausted, overclocked brain, but he knows that it's all true and he shouldn't make a noise because why is he even crying for? That his brain is trying to tell him he has been right all along and he just has to take it and live with it because it's fucking life and he better get used to it. 

He keeps asking himself why he's crying and what good it'll do and not to wake anyone with his noise and he eventually is able to calm down enough to breathe again. 

He feels gross, warm, with his face wet and his throat feeling clogged and his eyes burning. Nobody wants to see that. Wants to see him sniveling and whining about a silly dream when there's so many actual problems to worry about. Like an unborn child and a company and a kingdom and a galaxy of people. So many more important things. 

And it's in that moment where Johnny starts wondering where the surgical scalpels are because he needs to do it for real this time. No fucking up and being found and failing at killing everything but himself. Kill the disease; kill the host. Kill the thoughts kill the noise kill the sadness kill the shame kill the memories kill the desires and and needs. 

Kill the images in his head of being found like this and held and shushed and told everything would be okay because it's never okay and all he has are these stupid fucking fantasies that will never happen and that aren't his to have anymore anyways. And that are useless pictures of window shopping. Of things he can't afford and will never be worthy of. 

And he physically has to hold on to the blanket to stop himself from getting up right now, walking down that hall, and just throwing himself out into the vastness of space.

 It hasn't been this bad in a while and he thinks about Dr. Ruxill's voice talking about therapy. And he wonders how that would go for him talking about things he can barely handle himself. About memories he only just started recovering over the past two years. And then he thinks of losing his last breath to the stars and how he won't have to talk ever again. 

And he continues this over and over and over until the lights come back on and the nurse comes in and he can't be roused to give his arm for more medicine. He's curled in tight to himself and he's aware and awake but mute and non-compliant. And after a while of coaxing and no response or surrender they give up and call in reinforcements. 

And then Counselor comes in with his soft voice and common sense and rationality and Johnny can't handle any of that especially and so he pulls the blankets over his head and doesn't leave that position until he senses the lights are turned off and his room is vacant and the staff are being briefed not to enter his room unless it's an emergency. 

Breakfast is brought in without a word and then lunch and when dinner rolls around Johnny's everything hurts so bad that he has to at least eat a small piece of bread to shut up the annoying gnawing in his gut. 

After a while, Johnny hears the violin come in through the vents. And it sounds like how he feels and despite all the numbness and walls and impassivity he has put up today he crumbles there in the bed, sobbing openly into the blazer he has under his sheets. He whispers things to it and himself that he would never say in out loud. Tells it his dirty little secrets and fears and just like the owner it listens without judgment. The violin in the air covers it all protectively, keeping Johnny's words between himself and the blazer he's wrinkling in his shaky, desperate grasp. 

I want i want i want… he tells the jacket's silky interior. Spills it all and lets the words sink in like the saliva on his lips leaving a dark patch on the material he has pressed against them. 

He seals the confession with a kiss, feeling childish and pathetic, but Johnny presses his face and forehead into the cool silk and it tells him he's not. 

Johnny lays on his side again, hugging the thick blazer close to his chest. He curls into it, seeking and finding warmth as he begins to drift halfway through a sound change. The tone becomes timid, questioning, and curious now. Nothing like the confident, heavy, slow, and morose chords from before. 

An experiment. In music and in coping with the inevitable. 

Johnny's sleep is dreamless this time, and he holds the blazer the whole night through rather than wearing it. 

[captaindaddykru]

The 100 Ask Game

i was tagged by @foreverandalwayscrysis even though i accidentally end up ignoring her for weeks bc i’ve migrated towards twitter. major dumb b*tch energy.

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from? probably argo station bc im from the south and im surrounded by farmers. theyre everywhere. get me out.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? yelling at someone in command for being a basic bitch? fighting for equality? stealing meds for the poor?

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? if bellamy asked me to? y-yeah.

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..) i’d love a turtle

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? ok if we dont count miles ezekiel shaw bc he was in more than two eps, definitely wells.

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? bellamy, clarke, raven, shaw & harper. 

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to? there is only one kru<3<3 anyway, floukru if it was my own decision.

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? sumn like maksim? or just maks? idk the whole language is confusing to me

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious. did everyone try the chicken? i thought the chicken was lovely. nah, all jokes aside -- what he did to raven was absolutely disgusting, but i kind of liked his storyline. how he went from being holier-than-thou to absolutely losing his damn mind over clarke to point he shoots up an entire village of innocent people? it was interesting. but he died when he shouldve.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? im not gonna take shit. grass is always greener on the other side.

11. What character do you relate to most? definitely clarke. thats why i’m so hard on her.

12. What character do you like the least? echo. groan every time i see her face.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical) oh i love this one! uhm. probably like jeans, but ripped. black ankle boots. a shirt -- something with cleavage definitely, i think a regular tanktop. a dark jacket. idk. i would always have a gun/knife holster on my thigh i think. (ok i wanna look like lara croft). and i would enjoy if i could wear any shade of lipstick. i would want that to be my trademark. i find berries or sumn in the first ep.

14. Favorite type of mutant animal? that monster spying on lincoln and octavia in the woods. wonder what happened to that one.

15. What would your job be on the Ark? something medical for sure.

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked? yeah no biggie im (almost) a nurse. ive resucitated ppl before.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive, then who would have made the best commander? dont kill me, but definitely luna. i know she didnt want it, but she wouldve been the best fit.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? probably cry all night or get super giggly. either or.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach? i dont believe in the dead penalty in modern times, but like she was old enough to know killing people aint right. especially not for revenge on an innocent person. so i say the murphy method.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone? they shouldnt have one person in charge, but if they have to, i’d say clarke. fuck them old ppl tbh.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis? i think bellamy went through some personal stuff that made him side with pike. if i were in the situation myself i think i would be digusted by pike’s xenophobia, but if they said there was an army outside waiting to kill us. maybe i would buy it? idk. depends on if i have all the info i guess.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s iPod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there? MUSIC PLAYER

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? war paint on my lips!!! and i’d wing the shit out of my eyes too. as for a hairstyle probably like a lob, sides braided back. i dont like my hair up so mostly just keep it down. tattoos? idk if we’re all dying anyway, i’d say fuck it and do a whole sleeve of flowers.

24. Favorite quote? can i be a soft bellarke bitch for a sec and present clarke’s entire speech in 4x13 or ‘if i’m on that list, you’re on that list’. that or “who we are, and who we need to be to survive are very different things”

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? clarke or murphy. team cockroach bitch. is this the time i plug my own thg fics? 

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non-canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

if i cant say bellarke its gonna be a short list. canon? zaven and memori. non-canon: sea mechanic, wellven, murphamy. 

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo? BIG DREAM would be taylor swift but i dont think her current era fits with the show (plus its the cw....like they gonna give up half of their yearly budget for a three sec cameo?). i think aly & aj’s new music slaps and they’d fit in the whole new earth aesthetic. 

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? write blarke fanfic with him probably. 

29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die? i’d wanna die protecting bellamy lmao. just a full on beheading or something.

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? literally no one. they’re a season too late. ok. maybe shaw. but thats over now i guess :/

31. A character you’d bang? bellamy, clarke, raven, shaw, emori, harper, monty, wells, diyoza. its a cw show. come on.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?  if i was on the show i’d go up in space to prevent becho. if you have me the choice now, i’d stay in eden.

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?  i’d definitely not eat human meat. death it is i think.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits? tryna murder blodreina for making me eat humans.

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with? i’d bond with monty over biology i think. i would have a hard time getting a long with murphy or echo. i love the first as a character but irl i’d kick his ass. 

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself? if i have eden? as long as i have until the next apocalypse.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do? try and blow them up while they sleep or sumn? or idk. if i was alone, maybe just better to make friends.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite? diyoza+, mccreary-.

39. Would you Spacewalk? i would probably? i’d be terrified but what a way to go?

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat? ive accidentally gotten bugs in my mouth before and like i said im not eating humans, so -- space algae.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it? war didn’t help anyone. in the end, no one got to live on earth. i’d try and compromise i guess. or once they trust me, try and kill the eligius ppl in their sleep anyway.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes? stick the thumb drives into bullet holes. i have fear of ‘alive’ things being in or on the human body. 

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia? for clarke? yeah. if she was as loco as octavia, definitely. or i’d kidnap her and say she killed me.

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper? sleep, definitely.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet? bellamy, clarke, raven, emori, shaw, murphy, jordan and since somebody usually dies on these explorations, i’d allow echo to come.

[thelifetimechannel]

[aparoxysm]

3,5,7,8,9,12,15,18,19,20

✿  Does anyone in real life know about your RPing hobby and what, if anything, have they said about it?

My parents know, because for as long as I’ve been on the internet, they’ve known that I like to write and write with friends overseas. My dad still calls it fanfiction somtimes to other people, like he’s proud of me or something, and that’s enough to make me want to never talk to him again out of embarrassment, ha, but I deal with it. Because I truly do love writing more than anything. Other than that, my boyfriend knows, but he doesn’t care about it / ask questions and I don’t really like to tell him about it either. I’m not as embarrassed about RP as I used to be, but I still feel like it’s just something for me that other people wouldn’t really understand the mechanics of. The only times my boyfriend and I do acknowledge it is when I start talking about an RP friend he hasn’t heard about before like a real life friend, so he’s like who dat and im like oh, new rp friend from > insert country

That being said, he actually did surprise me the other week and I have been holding onto it for fear life. We were complaining about a friend who literally just sleeps and watches Netflix all day when she’s not working, and he’s like “I don’t get how you can do that” and im like “Well I have friends online who claim to do that a lot. Me, personally, I’d get too bored.” and hes like “I just don’t get how people can do nothing all the time? Like at least with you and your online stuff, that’s still doing something. I just feel like that’s actually a hobby.” and I kind of didn’t hear whatever else it is he said because he actually ??? referred to my RP addiction as something valid and worthy??? and all this time i’ve assumed he didn’t get it and thought it was dumb??? IDK, it made me feel good.

✿  Have you considered writing professionally or do you have plans to?

Always. But I never will, I don’t think.

✿  How do you handle the toxicity sometimes found in the roleplaying community, particularly in fandoms?How has roleplaying, specifically, impacted your life?

I use tumblr savior to blacklist a lot, because it really gets too much for me to be exposed to it a lot, and it makes me feel shitty and not want to rp with certain people because of how they behave, or makes me feel guilty for how I behave… I usually drift away from things that give me major negative vibes, otherwise I become in great, exponential danger of saying something i’ll regret. I’ve hated Tumblr RP a lot in this last year. It’s nowhere near as relaxed as it used to be, and I know there’s a lot of political debate on the topic of equality but I am not comfortable in a space where I have to edit everything I do and say or just not do or say it at all. When it gets like that level, a good dose of the unfollow button and keeping my mouth shut is what I find the most helpful.

✿  How has writing improved your life and do you see yourself sticking with it?

When I graduated high school, I went to college for art and animation, and it basically ruined my creative life. Before RP, I used to be an avid drawer, I sketched every day, I improved my skills and motivation so much, everyone knew me as the girl who drew in class instead of did her work, the girl who was going to grow up and be a famous artist, and when I went to college, it killed that for me. My ego took a big blow because the tech side of the course absolutely annihilated me, i couldn’t do it. so after that (and that was 2 years ago now) i haven’t really drawn since. but the silver lining was that I took on RP more dedicatedly after that, and found that I truly adored writing. Try as I might, I’ve never really comitted to a personal writing project, and it’s only in the recent times that I’ve taken the pressure off for me to do it, but. RP makes me happy, it makes me feel like I’m doing something good when I reply to people or make new friendships, it makes me feel like I’m wanted and needed, that my characters and plots are valid and that other people would care if I’m here or not. It was a big boost for my self confidence, and it’s also made me so much more privy to the creative world, which i needed after that. so yeah, i see myself sticking with writing.

✿  Is there a quote from a piece of literature that holds great value to you? What is it and why is it important to you?

She stood in front of her closet mirror in her T-shirt and twisted this way and that. What’s wrong with me? She wondered. There was nothing the matter that she could see. She was tall and leggy, like her mother, with full breasts, small waist, and slim hips that curved enough to show she was female. Her skin was gently golden; it was always golden, sun or not, and her tawny hair was thick and long and wild. So why was it that groups of girls stopped talking when she approached them at school and answered her openings with tense words that killed the conversations she tried to start? Was she too good-looking? Was that possible? Was that the threat they saw? 

Legitimately, this was the first and pretty much only female protagonist I had ever read about who fully and whole-heartedly loved herself where it mattered. Sure, she still had her shortcomings and moments of weakness, but god damn, Vivian was so proud of herself and what she stood for, and that was so refreshing to see during that period of young adult fiction. It’s why she became my first favourite character from a book. And has pretty much inspired me to write feirce, aggressive, self-assured female characters ever since. I was just so inspired by her way of thinking as a young girl, it appealed to me so much and so that moment in the book plus a whole lot of others, really stuck with me.

✿  What do you typically look for in a roleplay partner?

Cliche, but chemistry. And not always in the writing kind but a lot in the OOC kind. I like people who I can talk to super easily, who write in the same tumblr language I do, who reference memes and are not afraid to hit me up with IMs and head canons, etc. I just love it because it makes me feel comfortable with a person, and like I’m not being a bother. The better I get to know a player, the better I get to know their character away from IC interactions. Likewise, I adore it when players get to know me so well that they read the patterns in my characters easily, and I don’t feel like I have to explain them all the time? It’s like they just know, and they know what path I want to put them on. I also look for honesty, people who are down to tell me what they’re feeling about a situation or whether something bothers them, or is able to voice if I’m doing something wrong. Most importantly though, I look for decisive people. Not overly decisive but it’s just so important for me to have someone who is like “yes that sounds good, i can start a thing for you if you want” or “i dont think that really fits, how about this plot idea instead?” I really cannot stand sending IMs to people about plots and characters and them just agreeing off the bat the whole time, but never really deciding on anything either, and so it makes me feel like i’m just paddling in a circle until i make all the decisions for us. To me, that’s not what RP is about. It involves teamwork, and effort, and to me, that’s not putting in effort. It gets me really frustrated.

✿  What made you want to join the roleplaying community?

I kept seeing bios in celebrity tags, and so when i sussed out what group rp was on tumblr, i was like holy shit there is a name for the thing i have been doing with friends over email for so many years???? and you can use PICTURES? i gotta get on this.

so somehow, i found a group rp that allowed mythical creatures, i wanted to be a peter pan mermaid, and the rest is history~~

✿  What one piece of literature has been most inspirational/life changing for you? Why?

(( Blood & Chocolate, by Anette Curtis Klause — because of the main character, as per mentioned. She’s inspired me to write full-on, aggressive, assertive, don’t-tell-me-what-i-can-and-cant-do female characters without apology. ))

The Truth About Forever  by Sarah Dessen — it’s hard to explain exactly why, and it doesnt even just involve ONE of her books either, but they’ve kind of shaped my whole general character story directions?? her books always follow a pattern and i really admire that pattern, even if it is repetitive, and i am secretly a hopeless romantic so i really like how her love stories evolve. it’s always slow burning, the boy is usually a direct surprising love interest, and the girl always gains new friends and family out of it, and the stories always involve a nice little reoccurring theme. In the Truth About Forever, it’s a game that she and a boy plays throughout the entire book, which eventually leads to a shift from friendship to something more. THAT PLOT HAS APPEALED TO ME EVERY SINCE. the example of a teeny, tiny, otherwise-completely-average moment greatly impacting the rest of a characters life with someone else… i am weAK for this concept ok. her females are always usally feircely independent too and that gets me ♥

✿  Who are your top three favorite fictional characters and why?

Vivian Gandillon (Blood & Chocolate) — i swear i could go on repeat forever haha, but i’ve basically already mentioned why.

Jace Herondale (Shadowhunter Series) — back when the first like, two books had only been published, i super fell hard for this series and it was straight up because of the commentary done by Jace and his ability to senselessly bicker with everybody in his path. his comments to me, were always absolutely hysterical. i was so in love with his wry and witty comments, especially the way he kept at ease and casual through super distressing situations, and i really wish id kept reading the rest of the series as it was published, but i seriously fell behind. then the movie came out. then the netflix series. now i’ve grown too far out of it and having to see the cast on my dash every second of every day makes me want to burn the books.

Shane Collins (Morganville Vampire Series) — this is an oooold old series that i used to read religiously, and it was more in the style of anita blake and buffy vampires~ rather than twilight and true blood -esque content. it got really weird and complicated though so i gave up on it, but for a time, i adored it. and i loved shane because he was hilariously human, he hated everybody except his housemates (though sometimes that could be questioned) and nobody held a grudge better than him. he had a knack for getting in trouble, usually on his own accord, was feircely protective and spent most of his time just being a genuine nuisance and temper tantrum thrower. i saw a lot of me in him, and idk. i just like people with tempers, i think it makes them super fun to read. 

[kittengchan]

To whom this may concern: Kitten

It wont be about you, every time I talk, but it will be things I want you to know.

I promised you not to give you details, so I wont, but I do want to say how much I miss you. I feel like it is wrong and selfish to tell you that I miss you because you are working so hard on yourself, and I don’t want to pressure you into acting faster than you want to. But I miss you.

 I miss the way you would look at me, and how you would smile when I swore,  I miss how you touched me, and how conversations were never a bore. I miss the way you would talk to me, and the way you made me feel. I miss the way you held me, how everything felt so real.

Nothing is as bright as you standing in the door. Nothing is as colourful as your laugh, or the stories you would tell me to make me laugh. Nothing can compare to you, and even after 1.5 months of not seeing you I still feel this way. I know that this is how I feel, it hasn’t changed, man, if you could read my other blog, and it had a time punch, you would know that I fell for you pretty much after our second or third date. 

That is why I will wait, and try to be patient with you. Because you fill my heart, you calm my thoughts, you light my way through the dark. You protect me, you save me, and while my drama isn’t a lot right now, I hope that one day you will be there for when it is.

But I am scared. How do I know you feel the same about me. My anxiety spikes and I wonder if what i feel is real, or if I am making it up. I question my instincts and myself because I don’t get instant gratification or attention to validate me. So here I am trying to validate myself. 

In my head, I have two scenerios that stand out.

1. I love you, and I will wait for you, and you appricate it. You appeicate that I what I am doing is difficult for me, the waiting, and that I am still doing it for you. You like that I care, almost as much as you do, and I keep you feeling happy, by showing that I am happy without you as an active part of your life (because it shows I am not overly co-dependant). 

2. I am obsessing, and I am toxic, and I am sick. I am smothering you, and ignoring your wishes and your boundaries. I am making you feel guilty for not being healthy enough for me because i keep pushing and pushing, and pushing you away. I feel like my attention to you is drowning you and I am not stopping it because I want to be selfish, and have you in my life even if you don’t want to be in it.

So every night (or less), I battle against myself. I remind myself, that if I was selfish, I would have appeared at your door, I would have told you how I felt, and that what you are doing is unfair to me, and that your silence is horrible and toxic, and you should just stop because it is hurting me. But it isn’t about me. If I was selfish, I would have used terms like, “If you really cared for me, you would pay me more attention” or, “its like you’re not even trying” because I dont’ get to see you and therefore I cannot gauge what you are doing. If I was selfish, I would have an expected timeline for how you should be healthy and ready for me, because I am awesome and I want you, like some kind of Plush toy.

But I am not.

It kills me because I can’t help you, so I back off. I keep being myself, which involves a lot of texting, my emotions to stories, to whatever. I post myself happy because maybe if I you see I am happy, my smiles will make you smile. I continue with my life, but always make you a part of it. I hope you feel appriecated because I wear the shirt you gave me to bed almost every night, I hope you enjoy that my hair is purple, or my lips, or my eyes or all three. I do it for me because they are vibrate ass colours, but you are always at the back of my mind and think to myself, “I hope today You see this photo because its for you.”

Emotionally I am tied up. I am focusing on myself again, I have restarted my studies, I am writing again, and I am gunna contact me new therapist Friday to continue treatments. I am exploring places I have never been with new people, but I still think to myself, “he would like this.” I can’t tell you how many sunsets I have seen and thought of you, or how many sunrises I wish I could have shared with you.

There is this song I listen to on repeat, this is the secret I wanted to tell you, these are the lyrics and I always think of you. I can’t help it. I waltz to the song, I feel you close to me, I want you to dance with me, but I know it can’t happen, and yet I hope.

“Memories of the Night”

I stumble in and tumble down, fumbling, I’ve fallen in love. Reaching in and reaching out, trying to find what I have become. Dance the night away, incense and masquerades branded in red. There’s not a chance that I may fail. Either way, to heaven or hell, I’ll carry with me memories of the night. So, this song, is written by Elodia’s brother. And so I listen to him to think of you. 

And that makes me feel like shit. Or it did until I realized he has his own girl that he was waiting for, and that if I fangirled over him, it would be weird to place his music, about his life, and go “omg this is how I feel about you,” like that is kinda really weird, so you know, I am happy I don’t feel that way.

You want to know how I feel about him? Probably yes, but you wont want to admit it, and if you are anything like me, you will obsess over the thoughts in your head twisting it around until you can’t even remember what your first thought was. So here it is. He is like family, he feels familiar and safe, so I will give my body to him, but I can’t see a future with him. Not romantic. We are way to different/similar in all the wrong ways. He is comfortable like home, and as you know of me, I don’t like to be confortable for too long, I get too antsy. 

I know you are not ready yet to talk to me face to face, or even over text. I can’t say I understand why, but this is my way to give you your privacy and space. I will write to my blog for you and express myself. I hope that you read it, but I know it is wordy and difficult to read as a second language. But if it stops me from text bombing you, I will. I wish you could communcaite with me with how you are doing. Our convesations are getting longer, and more cheery, you seem less anxious and depressed, but I don’t know because I don’t want to assume anything, I don’t want to put words into your mouth, I don’t want to take your voice away.

You watch my story, and it gives me hope. It is a quiet way to see you still care about me, but that is something public, it isn’t honest. All that it will tell you is if I was busy or not that day, and even then I can make it lie. I can upload old photo’s that I enjoyed, or forget my phone at home. Honestly, I never used that before, I would always snapchat, but I saw that you watched it and I changed apps. I hope that seeing my smile makes you happy. It isn’t like the smiles I would have around you because you are not around. My eyes wont dilate like they would around you, I don’t laugh the same, because you gave me that joy, and it is something only you can give me. 

You can capture those moments, and keep them as memories. You bring out the best in me. I am not jealous, or worried about the people in your life. I am not trying to control or change you, because for me you are a wonderful fit. You don’t drink often, you don’t get high often, you don’t cheat, you don’t lie, you are you. Compassionate, caring, unbelievably smart, you are so creative, and driven, you have goals, and you have a life, and you go out to do things, and experiance things, and to learn new things. I don’t know how much I want to be you, or be with you, cause I can’t always tell the different. I want to be in the light you shine. And if that is just as friends, you have no idea how ok with that I am.

I mean, everyone has the right not to like someone back, that is your right too, so even if you only liked me as a friend, that would be fine. But I don’t think you do. I don’t know. You care for me, you are jealous (in a healthyish way), you make me feel good about myself and my flaws. You are a great friend, and an amazing lover. Even if i cant see you anymore, I know these are true. 

I just can’t tell if you want me in your future or not, and this month that is what is making me doubt myself. You care for me, and maybe that is what I am latching onto. You showed me kindness, and now like a parasite, I want to expeirance more and more.  I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU FEEL TOWARDS ME.  You confusion confuses me.  You care for me, you want me, you miss me. But you push me away, you keep me at arms length, do you think so little of me that I can’t care for myself? Do you pity me, so you try to save me? I know I will never get an answer to these questions, but still I ask em.