#i always wonder if anyone here even remembers me

[waynes-multiverse]

*gasps in excitement* FINALLY 😍😍😍

I also remember our fireplace conversation vividly 🔥 and I'm so glad it inspired such an amazing fic! You've outdone yourself with this one, Alex!! Such a sweet, incredibly romantic, and yet angsty story 🤍

Such a strong and hot start, wow! 🫠🔥

Full honesty, as a writer, starting chapters with smut always freaks me tf out. Like, where do you put the damn "keep reading" line without flashing some innocent people at work 😂

Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

Ooof, I know the exact feeling you're describing here. Kinda like when you're taking a hot bath but the room is cold and so everything not covered by water is freezing... 😅

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire.

Oh, here we go! Executed to perfection 😏

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

First of all, I was just reading this whole, intensely scorching scene with a thundering heart and squeezing my damn thighs hard 😂

Secondly, I loooove this trope! It's sorta romantic?! Idk 😅🤷‍♀️ Kinda gives "waiting for the right one and not in the mood for anyone else" vibes. I did that kinda with Russell recently lol

But I love the extra intensity and specialness it gives, y'know? ❤️‍🔥

Once again, he hears you. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

Loved the callback of him hearing her again, although his instincts had taken over. It shows how much he cares about her and respects her 💕

And I truly wonder what Sam will say when Dean comes back with a mate lol

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

Oooh boy, you're about to find out, girl 😂

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses.

Lol I was gonna say, "How long do you guys plan on being here? This might take a while" 😂 But I'm so in love with their little afterglow bonding session ❤️❤️❤️ I honestly could read about their convos forever. They're so cute 🥹

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.” You smile. “You’re happy for him though.” “Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.” His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.

We've already talked about this when he mentioned Dean jr. the first time, but my headcanon is, too, that Dean would be super happy, incredibly sad and lonely, and definitely a little envious and sour lol 😂😂

You really nailed him here! I could hear every word out of his mouth, too!! 😂🫶

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn.

Can totally seeing him doing all of that and arguing with her throughout lol Our hero 🥹💚

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.”

Oooh, I completely forgot she doesn't yet!! Aww, she loved him before she knew he had a cool car. This is like finding out he was a millionaire and kept it a secret to find true love and weed out the gold diggers 🤣

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

This had me DEAD 🤣🤣🤣

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

A year???? Jesus fuck, this is even sadder now!!! Sam was really like, "Ciao, jerk." lol

Damn, this man is old school. 

Oh she's about to find out how much 😂😂💚

That was such a perfect ending! They literally drove off into the sunset together *swoon* 😍🫠🫶 (And I could totally see Dean singing along to the lyrics at the end there)

I seriously enjoyed this series so much, friend!! 🤍🤍🤍 Totally gave me those vibes 🥹💕:

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[mrsjellymunson]

Something Old, Something New

Written for the @steddiemicrofic January challenge prompt ‘new’ || WC target: 517 || Rating: M || CW: very brief and vague allusion to sex, self-doubt, sentiment, fluff || Tags: nervous!Eddie Munson, background Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, very background Al Munson

OLD

Eddie reaches into the collar of his shirt and runs his fingertips along the tarnished chain. It’s his old guitar pick necklace, the one he was wearing the day they met. He remembers how Steve asked about it, nervously. How he fiddled with it when they first spent time alone. How it swung over his face and chest when they finally—

“How are you doing? Really?”

Eddie looks away from the hotel mirror to regard his uncle. He tries to sound confident, but his voice cracks a little.

“I’m fine, honestly. You’re here, my friends are all here. It doesn’t get much better than that, right?”

NEW

“You look good, son.”

Eddie turns.

“Thanks, Wayne. But honestly, I think this suit is doing most of the work.”

He fusses in front of the mirror again, smoothing the black fabric and adjusting his tie for the dozenth time.

“Steve insisted I go to the same tailor he used, but also get something that was really me. I dunno though, I feel like a penguin.”

Wayne tries to quash Eddie’s self-doubt, which is clearly about more than the suit.

“Listen, I know you’re not used to someone taking care of you like this. But he’s good for you. He’s helping you to see your worth. And you’re good for him too. You keep him grounded, and will always remind him of how much he’s loved.”

Eddie gives him a thin-lipped smile.

BORROWED

Wayne clears his throat as he reaches inside his jacket. Pulling out a worn velvet box, he murmurs,

“I wanted you to have this, for today.”

Eddie takes it, a confused look on his face. He’s seen it at the back of Wayne’s closet, but never asked what it was.

He lifts the lid to reveal a watch, clearly antique. Gold or brass, he neither knows nor cares; it’s beautiful.

“It was your grandfathers. I managed to hide it, keep it from, well, you know…”

Eddie frowns and nods. Had his father known about this he would’ve pawned it without a moment’s thought.

Eddie places it on his wrist as his uncle fastens the clasp.

“I got the strap altered for ya. Had to measure one of those darned leather bracelets one day when you were in the shower. I felt like a goddamned secret agent’r somethin’.”

Eddie snorts as his uncle shakes his head.

He regards himself in the mirror again. The suit, the watch. He stands a little taller, a little straighter. Maybe Wayne’s right? He can do this. He deserves this.

BLUE

He glances out the window to where Steve’s baby-blue pick-up truck sits gleaming in the parking lot.

The Party’s decorated it with white satin ribbons, soda cans on string, and ‘Just Wed’ on the rear window in chalk marker. Eddie makes out geometric shapes, and wonders who suggested drawing D&D dice instead of hearts.

Wayne checks in one more time.

”You sure you’re okay, son?”

Eddie looks at his uncle and nods assertively, smiling.

“Definitely. It’s a new beginning. I’m marrying the love of my life, and I couldn’t be happier.”

A/N: You could take this literally, where the Something Old is Eddie’s necklace and/or the heirloom watch, and the Something New is his new suit and/or Steve’s pick-up. Or, you might prefer that Something Old is Eddie’s lingering self-doubt, and Something New is his burgeoning self-confidence and self-worth, or their new beginning, as they step into their new life together. Or you might pick both, or something different, it's entirely up to you.

A/N2: I initially wrote this to imply Eddie was getting ready to read the eulogy at Steve’s funeral, only to pull an abrupt switcheroo near the end. But quite frankly I couldn’t bring myself to write anything sad right now, even if it did end happily, as I think we all need cheering up given current world events.

And in case anyone’s interested, here’s the meaning behind the old rhyme:

“The Old English [Victorian era] rhyme is all about good luck charms, "Something Olde (symbolizes continuity), Something New (offers optimism for the future), Something Borrowed (represents borrowed happiness), Something Blue (purity, love and fidelity), and a Sixpence (maybe a 5 cent piece) in your Shoe (prosperity).”

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More Eddie & Steddie on my masterlist

[thebrokengate]

LEWISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Sorry. Sorry! Reflex. 😅

Anyway, I just want to say now that I've had time to review this video this morning, HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO WELL DONE! Your readings of the queer subtext in this game are so well put together, and I also have to thank you for adding in the parts about the Don Quixote story as someone who hasn't read it and never got to know the book that made Luis into the character that he is. I found myself nodding along in agreement as well to your reading of Krauser as I consider myself, after spending multiple months after the game came out studying him like a bug under a microscope, to probably be one of the most knowledgeable people about his character and his queer coding. There are a couple things I want to add if you don't mind me doing so though!

Not only does Krauser have the "Anything to make the pretty boy feel special!" line, he also has another line that's either next to impossible to trigger or has been deleted where he tells Leon, "You rely on those pretty blues too much!" And though I can't find a clip of him saying it anywhere on video (and trust me I've tried like. every playthrough that exists on YouTube ever and if you or anyone else finds one PLEASE SEND IT TO ME I NEED IT FOR. reasons.), it is said in this collection of his lines from the game at 2:50. I'm also going to warn you before you click- volume warning because the first line that comes up is Krauser yelling "DIEEEEE" like a death metal singer and it blew out my eardrums the first time I clicked it. Please help me, I am in pain.

More on Krauser: remember when Leon says right after Luis dies, "You won't get away with this, Krauser"? Well... somebody please tell me why Leon tries to or at least thinks about leaving the fight multiple times during the arena boss battle then? The first time it happens is in the opening cutscene after Krauser says, "I've been waiting for you, rookie" where Leon's already looking for a path to escape before Krauser poses the question, "Worried about the girl, is that it?" (and then he says "That's just like you. You've always had poor judgment" which can be taken in.. a number of ways LOL. Is his judgment poor for trying to save everyone or for going after women instead of men- *gunshot sound*) When the battle kicks off, Krauser says, "Better run, rookie!" to which Leon replies, "Not like I have a choice." Which.. he absolutely has another choice: to fight back. Krauser comments several times about how shaky and unsteady Leon is while facing him, and even says, "What's wrong? Show no mercy!" He knows Leon doesn't want to do this and Leon comments multiple times in both fights against Krauser how Krauser isn't leaving him much choice but to fight him and he can't believe that Krauser is actually making him do this. The next time Leon tries to leave, it's right before Krauser uses his newfound power in las plagas to turn one arm into a weapon (before inevitably doing it to both). "Are we done here, Krauser?" Leon asks. Which makes me wonder. Uh- if he really was done, would Leon just let him walk away at this point? Krauser again comments here how Leon is too soft to do what's necessary - put Krauser out of his misery - and attacks again, knocking Leon down into the labyrinth. The final time that Leon tries to get away, he runs for the drawbridge that closes up on him and the look of pain on his face before Krauser jumps down behind him is.. it's just sad. He's tried multiple times to get away, but now he really has no choice. Every time he tries to run away, something else stops him, and now he has to go through with killing Krauser. Even when Krauser's down, he hesitates to do so for so long and had so much trouble doing so that originally, from what Mike Kovac said, Krauser was going to put his hand on Leon's on the knife to guide him to kill him but they couldn't do that because both of Krauser's arms were mutated (linking the video here. never forget what they took from us.. at 3:07:41). And I think it's worth noting too that this is the only fight where Leon tries so hard to get away. Right after this is the Saddler fight and Leon remarks, "I'll make sure you're the next to go, Saddler" and actually does it without trying to leave once. For the duration of the entire fight, Leon flip flops back and forth between trying to leave and trying to reason with Krauser, and it's such a testament to Leon's character how even after all Krauser has done, he still wants to save him (in fact, neither one of these idiots [affectionate] really wanted to kill each other and you can tell in Krauser's responses to actually killing Leon and the way he plays with his food in the first fight like you said - but it ended in death anyway).. and Leon looking back at Krauser's body in the end like a lost puppy utterly destroys me every time.

Going into a little bit about the parallels of RE2R to RE4R, every character and every boss has parallels to each other. Mendez is like the new Mr. X, some of the boss movements of Krauser in the final fight after he's mutated resemble the stage 1 Birkin fight's movements (specifically they both can grab Leon's head and both have mutations starting with the arms), even something as simple as the Garradors paralleling the Lickers - both unable to see but can hear you and are very quick to kill you with their long claws or something that resembles claws. So it's only natural that certain character dynamics parallel too. When RE4R first came out, I saw some people say that "Luis is the new Marvin Branagh" but I disagree. I think that role rather goes to Krauser - in an equal but opposite way. Both Marvin and Krauser were people meant to train and lead Leon in his line of work, Marvin as his lieutenant and Krauser as his major. They also both refer to Leon as "rookie", and Krauser taught Leon to fight with a knife, just as you receive a combat knife from Marvin in RE2R. Equal characters, but opposites. So no, I think Luis actually instead parallels Ada. At least for Leon. Why? He has a shady past, having worked with Umbrella, much like Ada has a shady past running missions for Wesker as a mercenary. He appears and disappears multiple times, leaving and rejoining Leon just like Ada did in RE2R. And there's a moment where he dies, just the way Leon originally thought Ada did at the end of RE2R except this time Luis actually does die. But what's changed here? Luis was on a mission of redemption, dying a better man than he was before, unlike in RE2R where it ends with Ada and Leon turning on each other before Ada seemingly falls to her death. They're both wounded by a third party - Ada being shot by Annette and Luis being stabbed by Krauser - as well. So if that's not more to the queer coding of Luis, I don't know what is. But I also want to elaborate on my "at least for Leon" point because, even though it's irrelevant to the queer coding, Luis acts as a parallel in Ada's story to Leon. She has to save him, he gets himself into trouble all the time, his heart is often bigger than his brain, he's the one she wants to get her the amber, she pushes him away when he tries to care for her like Leon did in RE2R... the works. Luis was a second chance for both of them to make amends with their Raccoon City past together.

Last thing to note, just... Why is there so much BDSM in this game? Jeezaloo!

But that's just a fun addition, lmao.

Anyway, this video was so good and thank you so much for sharing it with the world! :)

hi happy re4 20th. here's a 50 minute long video to celebrate it

[thequeenofcurses]

Where You Left Me (part 2) wk: 1900

“We made it, lads!” Sora doesn’t look back at you or Sukuna when he reaches the gate first. “We're dead close to the camp, 'bout ten minutes away,” He lifts the bottom of the broken fence, slides his backpack through, and crawls in right after.

Sukuna scoffs. Of course, he’d rush in without even checking if we were alright. Asshole.

“You first,” Sukuna says, tilting his head toward the fence.

You crouch, lifting the fence and sliding your bag through. But as you glance back at him, you notice his sharp gaze darting across the shadows, his body taut like a coiled spring.

“I’m going to double back,” he mutters, eyes narrowing as he scans the path you came from. “Make sure we weren’t followed.”

Your head snaps toward him, panic clawing at your chest. “Alone? Are you insane? What if—”

“Relax,” he cuts you off with a dismissive wave, though his tone carries a surprising edge of calm. “I’ll be fine. I’m not some idiot who’ll trip and get myself eaten.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I should go with you. We’re supposed to watch each other’s backs, remember?”

Sukuna’s lips curve into a faint smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “And leave him alone?” He jerks his chin toward the gate where Sora had disappeared. “Bet he’d last all of five seconds before screaming his head off.”

You hesitate, torn between his logic and the unease twisting in your gut. The fence groans faintly under your grip, the sound too loud in the unsettling quiet. “Sukuna, please. Just—”

“Stop worrying so much,” he says, his voice softer now, though his eyes remain hard. “I’ll be back before you know it. “Stay put. Watch the fence. And don’t let that idiot do anything stupid.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply, turning on his heel and vanishing into the darkness before you can argue further. The cold air bites at your skin as you stare after him, unease settling like a heavy stone in your chest.

Your heart ached watching him leave. Memories filled your mind from when you first got paired with Sukuna.

The day you arrived you were covered in filth and blood that wasn’t your own. Your last partner sacrificed themself to get you here. As did every other person you’ve ever traveled with. It truly felt like the universe cursed you. No matter what group you joined up with, they always ended up dead, and you always ended up alone. 

You had hope that changed the moment you joined this current group. But alas, the universe had other plans in store for you.

“We have a buddy system in place here,” the leader, Hunter, explained to you. “So you’ll never have to be alone.” He gave you a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. The thought should’ve been a welcoming one, but your body tensed uncomfortably. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” you started. You probably should keep this to yourself, but the words spilled from your mouth. “People close to me always get bit or hurt somehow. I don’t want to get anyone here killed.”

Hunter took a step back at your confession. He patted your head and tried to sound hopeful. “Don’t worry, we’ve been surviving here for a long time. I’m sure we can find you a good buddy.”

It was four days later when a new survivor appeared at the entrance to the camp. He was a tall man wearing cargo pants, combat boots, a brown shirt, and a tattered red scarf. His hair looked drenched in sweat, or maybe that was dried blood. From what you could see his face had black tattoos that covered his temple down to his chin. They were sort of beautiful, amidst all his dirt and grime.

Hunter met the man and accepted him into the community once he realized the man could fight, help with scouting missions, or anything else necessary. Almost immediately, this man was assigned to you as your buddy. You wondered if it was because no one else wanted to risk being your partner or because this man could probably handle anything that came your way. It’s probably both.

You find out from Hunter that the new mysterious man is named Sukuna. He wasn’t much for talking, but that was fine. As long as he kept you both safe and alive, that was all you cared about. 

One thing Hunter forgot to mention was that buddy’s room together. Your small makeshift house in the camp – which was actually just a tent in the back of an abandoned grocery market. The tent was surprisingly spacious and could easily fit four to five people comfortably. Thankfully, there were enough tents to go around where everyone only had to share with one other person, aside from families with children. 

That night, you stay in your corner of the tent, while Sukuna lays on the opposite end, staring at the ceiling. Is this guy ever going to sleep? You don’t let your curious thoughts bother you and let sleep consume you.

The next morning, your body wakes you up at your usual time to get your typical duties done. You stretch silently, so as to not wake up your new roommate, then roll over. When you stand, your eyes notice that tattered red scarf in his hands. He must’ve fallen asleep holding it. You gently grab the laundry basket and gently pull on the scarf. Big mistake.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he spat. You stumbled backward in fear, not knowing he was awake.

Sukuna’s glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, his fingers tightening around the red fabric as if you’d tried to steal a piece of his soul.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze despite the chill creeping up your spine. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said carefully, keeping your voice steady. “It’s just… it looked important, and I thought you’d want it cleaned.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at you with those piercing crimson eyes, his grip still firm on the scarf. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

Then, just as suddenly as his outburst came, Sukuna let out a slow, controlled breath and loosened his hold. “Tch.” He turned away, stuffing the scarf into his pack like it was something sacred. “Don’t touch my shit unless I tell you to.”

You nodded quickly, not wanting to push him further. “Got it.”

The tension still hung in the air, but you sensed something beneath his anger—something raw, unspoken. A wound, perhaps, tied to that ragged scarf. But asking about it now would only make things worse.

Instead, you picked up the laundry basket again, gripping it a little tighter than before. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Sukuna didn’t acknowledge you, just laid back down, one arm behind his head, eyes once again fixed on the tent’s ceiling.

As you stepped out, the morning sun barely peeking over the horizon, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The man you’d been paired with was a mystery—one wrapped in sharp edges and hidden scars.

But if you were going to survive together, you’d have to find a way to navigate them.

You returned later that morning, your arms aching from carrying the laundry back to camp. As you approached the tent, you hesitated at the entrance, unsure if Sukuna was still upset.

Pushing aside the flap, you found him sitting cross-legged, his red scarf now wrapped loosely around his neck. He didn’t look up, but his sharp voice cut through the air. “You always this nosy, or was I just lucky enough to get the curious one?”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to snap back. “I told you I didn’t mean anything by it.”

This time, his gaze lifted to meet yours, and the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got guts. Most people wouldn’t stick around after pissing me off.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” you shot back, surprising even yourself with your tone.

Sukuna tilted his head, clearly amused. “Fair enough.” He stood abruptly, the scarf shifting slightly as he stretched. “Come on.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You and I are on patrol duty today,” he said, already heading toward the tent’s entrance. “Unless you’d rather stay here and babysit the camp.”

You groaned inwardly. Patrol duty was one of the most dangerous tasks—wandering the outskirts of camp, checking for any threats, zombie hordes, or looters. And now you were stuck doing it with him.

The trees around the camp loomed tall and dark, their skeletal branches casting jagged shadows on the dirt path. You kept your knife close, your eyes darting nervously between the underbrush.

Sukuna walked ahead of you, his long strides confident and unbothered. He held a machete in one hand, swinging it lazily at the tall grass as if the threat of the undead didn’t faze him.

“Do you always have to walk like you own the place?” you muttered, your nerves getting the better of you.

Sukuna glanced back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Would you rather I skulk around like you? Might as well put up a sign that says ‘free meal.’”

You scowled. “I’m being cautious. You should try it sometime.”

He snorted. “Cautious doesn’t keep you alive out here. Being two steps ahead does.”

“Is that why you’re so... charming?” you shot back, gripping your knife tighter.

Sukuna stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. “Charming enough to still be here. Can’t say the same for the people you’ve lost.”

The words hit like a slap, and your breath caught. “You don’t know anything about that.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer, his expression darkening. “But I know the look of someone who’s been running from ghosts. How long are you gonna blame yourself before you realize this world doesn’t give a shit about your guilt?”

You stood frozen, his words cutting deep. But before you could respond, the sound of rustling bushes snapped both your attention to the side.

Sukuna raised his machete, his entire body tensing in a way that was almost predatory. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice low and firm.

Your pulse quickened as the rustling grew louder. A shadow moved in the underbrush, and then—

A lone zombie staggered out, its hollow eyes locked onto you. Before you could react, Sukuna’s machete swung clean through its neck, the decayed head hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

“See?” he said, wiping the blade on the grass. “Cautious doesn’t get shit done.”

You glared at him, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the relief that washed over you.

“Let’s keep moving,” he said, his tone softer this time. “And try not to fall behind.”

You followed him silently, your grip on your knife tightening. Maybe Sukuna was right—this world didn’t care about your guilt. But that didn’t mean you were ready to let it go.

<- Part 1

A/N If anyone is confused lmk and I'll try to better explain, but the second half of this and onward (including the next parts) is a flashback. Sorry if that wasn't too clear T...T Also, I got so sad when Kuna's first words to y/n were so harsh. Like damn bro, chill 😭

tags: @infiresmanh6, @yeagersss, @moonchhu,

masterlist | jjk masterlist

[ofmdrecaps]

01/21-23/2025 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Happy Birthday Ewen Bremner!; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neill; Vico Ortiz; Gypsy Taylor; Andrew DeYoung / Andy Rydzewski; Damien Gerard; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Nes & The Tiny Co-Captains; Never Left Podcast; Love Notes;

== Happy Birthday Ewen Bremner! ==

First and foremost, Happy Belated Birthday to our one and only Mr. Buttons -- Ewen Bremner! His birthday was on Jan 23! Hope it was wonderful sir!

= David Jenkins =

David sending us some love in these trying times. Remember to keep you humor, luvs.

Source David's Bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys has been VERY active the last few days with SF Sketchfest going on amongst other things! In continuing with sharing his stand ups, we got more from the wallet in the skinny jeans bit!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Source: Rhys' Instagram

= SF Sketch Fest =

In addition, some pretty cool stuff came out of the SF Sketch Fest! Rhys did stand up, but he also participated in the 45th Anniversary Live Read of Airplane! We also got some pictures that broke the fandom for a few days.

Sources: Cobbs Comedy Club

A clip from the Airplane read! (thank you to @wastingyourgum for find it on facebook!)

Source: Matlock Zumsteg's Facebook

Rhys found D (for Darbs) while out at the show! You can check out the SF Sketchfest BTS he has on his paid substack here!

Source: Rhys' Paid Substack

While Rhys wasn't actually present, him and his early career came up on The Dom Harvey show! Thanks Moosh for sharing!

Source: The Godfather of NZ Comedy

= Con O'Neill =

Jan 22nd was the 10th anniversary of the show Cucumber - starring Con O'Neill!

Source: RusselTDavie's IG

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico shared some heartfelt messages on their current journey/transitions going on in their life on their instagram.

"Grief is such a painfully fascinating, terrifying, devastatingly beautiful and powerful experience. I am in constant awe of its transformative prowess. I must confess I am in the thick of it. Discovering the times I am paralyzed by it as well as times where I surrender to it and witness how it ebbs and flows within me. Transforming me. There are some things I was already expecting. But other things out of my control (the LA fires/Presidential transition being some big ones) one took me completely took me by surprise, the other I have been bracing myself for and I recognize that I am in swimming in the trenches. Im experiencing pain, joy, anger, celebration, sadness, frustration, gratitude…. All of it coming at me in chaotic order, showing up in the most random of places, and in ways I never imagined my heart and nervous system could experience. Im learning how to let myself be human each an everyday in a system that is determined to separate me from myself, from my/our humanity. It’s messy. It’s beautiful. It’s chaotic. It’s expansive. While the fires have devastated me and have left me undone in ways I wasn’t expecting, one thing I am abundantly certain of: no matter what anyone says, regardless of their political “power”… I will always exist. Who I am and who/how I love is a non-negotiable. And I will fight tooth and fuckin nail for my/our right to exist visibly and I will be louder each and everyday because I deserve to be here in this world and you deserve to be here in it with me, celebrating who we are every goddamn day. While I know IG is the only Meta app I’m currently using, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for ways in which we can engage in community that feels safe and affirming. Im enjoying the substack space with @todayingaypod as well Patreon and BlueSky! While TikTok was a good place, I’m currently putting it under observation after the whole shutdown/brought back debacle. I love yall… I genuinely am so grateful that we have each other even if the systems put in place are whack af. Squeezing everyone tenderly 🫂 Enjoy a glimpse of many transitions, moments of levity and honoring ancestry through these photos 🫶🏽✨"

Vico also posted More OFMD BTS on their Patreon!!

Source: Vico's Paid Patreon

= Gypsy Taylor =

Some of Gypsy's works being highlighted from The Newsreader Season 3!

Source: Gypsy's IG Stories

= Andrew DeYoung / Andy Rydzewski =

One of our Directors, Andrew, and our cinematographers, Andy are on their way to SXSW (South By South West) Film and TV Festival for their film 'Friendship'! It's an official selection! Congrats you two!

Source: Andy's IG Stories

= Damien Gerard =

Our Father Teach, Damien, is blessing us with more and more cat content, Athena is such a work of art <3

Source: Damien's Bsky

== Articles ==

Thank you so much to @adoptourcrew for keeping us up to date in all things OFMD Article related!!

GeekSpin Article

source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Nes & The Tiny Co-captains =

So I will spread this out over a couple of recaps because the massive Rhys section above took most of my picture allotment! But I wanted to take a moment to highlight the adorable artwork of Nes. Their Tiny Co-Captains are such a break in my day every time I stumble upon them. Whether they're spending time together, eating cherries, going on silly adventures, Nes brings such joy and life to them that I just wanted to take a moment and appreciate the perfect chibi co-captains and their fabulous creator. I especially adore Archie and look at this super adorable snake for the Year of the Snake! If you aren't already following Nes, please check out their work below! It'll bring a smile to your face even on the roughest days!

Bsky / IG / Tumblr

Nes' Linktr.ee

Source: Nes' Bsky

= Never Left Podcast =

A new episode is back, and this time they're talking about the story in Stede's spank book! 👀 Check it out on your favorite podcast platform!

Source: Never Left Instagram

== Love Notes ==

I know you're tired lovelies. I am too. Been a hell of a year so far.

Please remember to rest, and take care of yourself. Drink your water, eat some food, and laugh if you can. The world feels dark, but you are the light within it. You make it beautiful, and keep it kind. You will shine brighter when you can recuperate and rest-- so please take care of you for a while. Sending Love your way <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Nanea Hoffman (@sweatpantsandcoffee)

Source: SweatPantsAndCoffee Instagram

[aakaneeee]

ROUND 8

There is a thought that has been plaguing my mind lately.

"Yvonne, aren't you guilty? For being willing to kill? For the way you would, even?"

It's a stupid thought, I know. Imbecile, so much so I wonder how it even came from my own (quite brilliant, if I should say so myself) mind. A scheming, possibly manipulative, gruesome mind, and yet it bloomed such an incompetent idea. I was always two steps ahead, no? Then how come I'm starting to fall behind my own being?

The words I'm saying are delirious, fever-like. I am not sure myself why I have this sudden urge to praise myself. Maybe insecurity? No. I haven't felt such useless emotions ever since my bussines partner (or owner, as other pets would call them, but it's embarassing and below my status for me, of all people, to degrade myself in such way.) told me how unnecessary it is. Anyhow, I have found an answer.

No. I don't feel guilty, nor will I ever do.

Can anyone blame me for the fact I wouldn't mind killing my own kind? I have been taught it is normal since the start of time. When I first opened my eyes, I saw death. My human lifebringer was considered useless and so, destroyed. Only the perfect little daughter remained.

And, I wouldn't kill just anyone, in any conditions. That redeems some of my sins, no? People's worst sin is that they destroyed and betrayed themselves for nothing. But me? I'm the sweetest venom, no? I'm above everything and everyone, atleast in my mind, and I'm pretty sure in others' too, because I'm "sweet". Or atleast, I look that way. Like a swan, no? Graceful and beautiful, yet would kill her children (the circumstances of them being in pain are irrelevant. Crime is crime.)

I am not here to redeem myself. I am not here to beg on my knees. I am here to be above. Regardless of the result, the only hurt will be the egos of the aliens when they find out I am invincible. They'll see.

But what if it's the other way around?

What if he...

No.

He will live.

It's detrimental.

I mean, what are the chances for him to lose against a pitiful, intoxicated version of me? The sensation of the 'medicine' my business partner feeds me has long been integrated into my being. I am so used to it, it feels natural. "Yvonne, how can you be so calm? You aren't taking those by your own choice." Pfft-

Consent? We, humans, are wishing, and talking about consent? Look around! Asking for consent is stupid, most of us are dying! I would have myself. But my armor consists of more than will and little ideas. Atleast 'medicine' makes it fun!

Anyways. It is unnecessary to continue talking about- no. Talking isn't unnecessary. Talking in my state is. There is a difference. Well, it'll soon be time to put my facade to the test.

By facing my lover, the love of my life. My biggest follower: the only one I've ever wanted. Sebastian... I don't think I will be able to fully compose myself. I'm sorry for the version of me you'll see. (even though you've already perceived my most inhuman actions, I feel like I will act worse.) I'm sorry it will be the last version of me you will remember. One of us will die, or disappear from the public eye momentarily.

We'll see according to the loser.

Soon...

sebastian belongs to @sotogalmo

i am severely underprepared mentally for this round. it will totally ruin me

[honeymilkuwu]

hello besties we're so back

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[lovestory]

hi friends, if anyone happens to be reading this, i'm just letting you know that my blog has been intentionally wiped - something i've been contemplating doing for awhile now. to be blunt, i have been overwhelmingly suicidal for a good 6 months, so considering i log off feeling worse than when i logged on more often than not, i've decided to remove myself from social media for a long while. i need to figure out how to survive the sudden downturn in my health while doing postgrad and working full time (i collapsed out of nowhere and haven't been able to walk since before christmas, i am covered head to toe in hives 24/7 which are extremely painful and won't respond to any treatment - that’s just the tip of the iceberg, but I can’t just stop working and take care of myself like i need to) sending love ❤️

[silkjade]

i haven’t been here much recently, and i’m sorry i’ve only been negative on the off chance i’ve been online, but let me just say one last piece before the end of this month, so that maybe the next might be better….

[suddencolds]

.~

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Finally properly sobbing after not being able to cry all day is such a great feeling

[mihai-florescu]

how long have u been running this blog (i love ur txts RAHHHHH thanks for spilling wtv is on ur brain)

Aw thank you! Ive had the same blog since 2014 when i was in middle school ^_^

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[cigarette-room]

(pretty long thread rip)

I should be studying for tomorrow but instead I am restless and overthinking and thinking to myself about how there is so much wrong in approaching love from the perspective of trying to be liked and trying to be loved and trying to be good and trying to stick people to yourself with duct tape made of gifts and nice jokes and sweet words because well, it's not only tiring but they will leave in the end anyway, and loving and being loved is supposed to be rest and peace and a sound mind and the more you try the less you achieve any of that! Except I'm my mother's and father's child so I still do it anyway and hang around and try again and cling until it's dead because otherwise it all really hurts but it hurts anyway so

Just dgaf. And if you do then pretend you don't until you convince yourself and restrain your hands so they can't reach out to anyone once they turn their back on you and just. Let people live with their own decisions. I want so hard to be loved that I am making myself disposable like a used rag and for what? It's all gonna be good one day with or without anyone else

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

sometimes looking back at the past hurts more than you thought it would