#i am just so sad over this stupid little podcast

[cordialcalliope]

this post contains spoilers for tma (specifically the very end of season 4 to season 5 beginnings (like episode 160+)) so if u r Not There Yet u should probably look Away

free my man gerard keay,,,,,,..,,, he did Not deserve to be stuck in a book like that .

EVERY time i think abt his ending and how he wound up there i either get unreasonably distressed or i start laughing uncontrollably because imagine u help some old lady who works for the Awful Horrors and Terrors That Be out for a bit and she strips part of ur flesh from ur body when you die to bind you into a book . and said book is From the things you’ve tried to get out of & away from all your life . man .

there is no such thing as justice in tma bc so Few people get what they deserve and the rest are just punished ridiculously for minor things . idk abt u but mike crew & jon absolutely did not deserve to end up in the situations they did . they were literally both Kids & one ended up having to sacrifice himself to a fear god to stay out of another’s clutches, while the other just wanted to read something. and that book he stumbled on was probably the reason he applied for a job at the institute, and, unbeknownst to him, was strung along by his boss for so long that he ended up unwillingly jumpstarting the apocalypse, forced into the role of the lynchpin in elias’s plans . all the archival staff from gertrude’s time & jon’s were given awful ends all because they were curious or scared or trusted someone they thought was safe . martin was just a Dude who needed a job, tim just wanted to know more abt the thing that stole his brother , who was just a nice guy that people liked. sasha literally had Nothing to do w the fears . but she died anyway . don’t even get me started on michael and fiona law and sarah carpenter (and emma harvey). or even the directors that elias (jonah) took over . gerard keay was a guy who was born to a fucked up lady who collected fucked up books & wanted to start her own lineage . gerard did Not deserve what happened to him, but then again, none of them rlly did . and That kind of Sucks . people are evil and things are evil by human standards and only do what they can to survive, unknowingly hurting & traumatizing masses . nobody deserved any of the ends they had ended up with but that did not stop them from happening . the concept of fairness is and has never been real & tma does a really good job of explaining & showing that for an audio drama i think . even if it is massively heartbreaking

[mofsblog]

Hhhhhh do you ever think about how there's a high chance the reason why Oscar got attached to Arthur so quickly is because he was lonely.

[victory-cookies]

the only irl friend I have that I feel comfortable actually talking about the things I enjoy with just insulted me for gushing about smth to her over snap last night and now I want to cry

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ PODCAST ୧

summary: matt leaves the podcast because of his brother's jokes, and y/n comforts him.

warnings: cussing, sad, fluff

notes: this fanfic was a request! also english is not my first language so im sorry about any mistake

୨୧

The day with the Triplets has been a little stressful, specially for Matt. Each time he spoke, his brothers would joke saying that he was being way too ‘depressed’ and ‘miserable’. Or Nick would always answer with ‘Yeah, yeah nobody wants to hear about that shit’.

Now, after they invited me to their podcast, here I am, sitting next to my boyfriend, holding his hand gently.

As Chris and Nick keep talking over their brother, calling him ‘Miserable Matt’ I could see him getting more annoyed, his eyes watering, and it feels like I'm the only one seeing his discomfort.

I don’t really know what to do, cause obviously his brothers are just joking, and I'm not sure how to intervene without making things awkward.

They keep teasing him over and over.

“I'm not going to sit here for like another 55 minutes or some shit.” Matt’s voice getting slowly lower.

“What? What was that? That mumble? I can’t understand you.” The older triplet mocks him, but he tries to ignore it. “Ok go ahead-“

“Now you are ‘mumble Matt’ too” Chris laughs after Nick’s comment. “It's like I can't even understand what you are saying, sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, your voice”

I try to end the conversation "Can we just-" Before I can finish, Chris and Nick burst into laughter "Can we start the podcast?" I try again, but Matt lets out a heavy sigh.

Nick continues “it literally sounds like an avalanch coming out of your mouth” Matt gets up aggressively, starting to leave the room “I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

“Oh come on Matt!” Chris says chucking. They laugh some more as I just think of what to do. I get up from my seat, hurrying after him “Hey.. Matt..” I begin, attempting to catch his attention. However, before I could reach him, he gets in his room, and slams the door in my face, leaving me standing outside. I'm sure this is not just about the stupid jokes they were making.

I hesitate for a moment before making any move, thinking if I should open the door, i’m sorry, but I can't just ignore the urge to check on him.

With a deep breath, I reach out and calmly push the door open. Inside, I find Matt lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Can we talk love?” I say quietly closing the door behind me.

He lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "What do you want?" His voice defensive.

Ignoring his tone, I move closer and sit on the bed.

With a gentle touch, I reach out and place my hand on his back, offering a silent gesture of comfort. For a moment, we sit in silence, until I interrupt it.

“Can you tell me what has been going on lately?” I ask softly, my voice filled with concern.

“Nothings going on” He sniffs, still with his face in the pillow “I’m fine” His voice barely above a whisper.

I shake my head, not trusting his words. "You don't seem fine to me" He stays silent, I take a deep breath.

I adjust my position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. I decide to take a different approach instead of talking “Come here..” I pat the spot next to me, in sign for him to come closer “Let's just cuddle for a bit."

He completely stops acting rude in the moment I suggest it, Matt scoots closer, laying his head on my chest, his arms around my waist. I stroke his smooth brown hair. I kiss the top of his head. We stay like this for some good ten minutes.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck and whispers with a shaky voice “I’m just so fucked up..”

Gently, I cupped his cheeks, lifting his head from my neck, making him look into my eyes “Matt.. Why do you say that?”

"I just.. I don't know" He admits. "I'm just so fucking exhausted of feeling like this all the time..”

I sigh, I hate seeing him in this state. “Since when do you feel like that?” I wait patiently for Matt's response, he looks away.

“I don’t know.. For some long time now.. I guess I've been trying to push it away, but it just keeps coming back, over and over.” As he spoke, I could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see it sooner babe.." I whisper, reaching out to gently brush away his tears. "I should have known something was wrong." I kiss his forehead.

He shakes his head "It's not your fault" He murmurs "I don’t want you to worry"

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. "But I do worry, Matt" I confess softly. "I care about you more than anything."

He buries his face deeper into my chest. "I love you so much.." He whispers, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too.." I whisper back in his ear, squeezing him tightly.

୨୧

sorry this is so short 😭😭

tags: @muwapsturniolo

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[pbandjesse]

Well our appliances were not delivered today. Sad. The dryer is permanently out of stock. But good news, James was able to talk to a very helpful customer service woman and got us a different one, even price matched it to the original one. Even though this one was more expensive. So now we are getting them next Friday.

But I did not know for sure if the delivery was going to happen today. So I was just a little stressed about it when I woke up. When I woke up I was not going to get up right away. No need to. But then I heard a box truck outside and absolutely panicked and threw on clothes just in case. It was very stupid. I went downstairs and waited to see what they were delivering and it ended up being a bookcase for our neighbor. I would take a deep breath and text James to see what was up. And went to take a shower and brush my teeth and calm myself down.

I felt a lot better after the shower. It was nice to be clean. And honestly today was the best I have felt in forever. I didn't even take my medicine. I just felt fine. I was low energy for sure. But I wasn't sick and that just made my heart feel so light.

I would have some brioche and ice tea for breakfast. And took the animals outside. It was just a little drizzly out today and was humid but it was really nice having the door open. Even if it lets flies in. I just want the windows/door open all the time. I can't wait til we have a screen door. Hopefully soon. We paid for it! We are just waiting for the custom sized door to be made.

I would do a ton of knitting work today. I only have 4 cream color squares to finish (it was 7 at the begining of the day but I would make 3 throughout the day) . And I would work hard to sew all my other squares together. It's such a sweet little piece. I am still going to make a boarder but I love the checker.

I would also cut and measure all of the yarn for my temperature blanket for July. I attached the June rectangle as well. But cutting and making the yarn took forever. I would have worked on August too but I ran out of the color for 70s. I will probably go to the craft store to look tomorrow. But I'm not to worried. It'll get done.

I would have a little lunch. Watch some videos. Worked on knitting. Sewed sewed sewed. I would occasionally go outside to check on the animals. I was just having a chill day.

I made strawberry lemonade but it really needed more lemon and we only had powder lemon packets. Not the same. Maybe when I go to the store tomorrow I'll pick up some lemons too.

Celia would come over to hang out for a few hours at 130. It was nice to hang out with her. She would change out of her internship clothes once she got here. And we sat on the couch and talked. I worked on my knitting and sewing. It was a chill hang out.

Eventually I made us nachos and we played the frog detective game. The second chapter/sequel was much more involved. We got to decorate a notebook, which we took very seriously. And she narrated all of the speech bubbles, gave everyone accents and everything. It was a lot of fun.

When we finished the game, after having some candy and laughing and having a good time, I realized I was ridiculously tired and just be er fed to lay down. So Celia said she would head out. I'm really glad we got to hang out today.

I wouldnt actually sleep. But I would be horizontal and just rested my body. And soon James was home.

They were very sad. Some hockey players were biking and got hit by an aggressive drunk driver and died. Two brothers. The day before their sister's wedding. Horrible. An absolute tragedy. And they were really torn up about it. Especially because people have been very aggressive towards them lately on their bike. It sucks. People need to calm down, people are literally dying.

They would go upstairs to record an addendum to their podcast about the hockey players. Just to get their feelings out. I would just lay down on the couch. Eventually they would have showered and came and laid with me and held me which was really nice.

Eventually I moved upstairs. I took the kinesiology tape off that I've been wearing the last couple days and even though I was careful I still tore my skin a bit and it hurt. So after dinner (Mac and cheese), I took a bath and tried to carefully get the excess glue off and take care of my poor torn skin. Ouch.

Now me and James are in bed. We might watch more vampire show. But my head hurts a bit and I am very tired. But thankfully not woozy or nauseous.

Tomorrow I have the market. And I am hoping it's a good day. I hope you all have a good day. I love you all very much. Sleep well my friends. Goodnight!

[weebsinstash]

the overturning of Roe v Wade happened and pregnancy felt disgusting and a physical threat to be defeated

I felt that. I an asexual person with zero intention of getting married or having a baby but seeing Roe v Wade, I just... feel the need to have my tubes tied? Which should not even be a thing I consider since I have no plans to have sex. Those radical religious/misogynisitc views that are popping up nowadays just make me feel very disgusted at things that are... Really not horrible. Nothing wrong about being a housewife, or getting pregnant, but the way those incels with a mic talk about women in their podcasts just create very unhealthy relationships between women and "womanhood"/traditionally feminine things.

What's so fucked up is like the exact same people saying shit like "oh these gross LGBTQRSTUV alphabet mafia freaks are trying to groom and molest our kids! How dare they try to say kids need to learn about safe sex and periods and not to send nudes or address sex in any way other than abstinence!" will then turn around say "wow, asexuals? How UNNATURAL. You aren't PROCREATING like GOD INTENDED. You're ALSO somehow grooming our kids" and it's just like. Fuck. Leave people alone about their fucking sexuality and gender presentation.

And then sometimes I try to discuss this with my mom because like we discuss politics a lot and she's, you know, a woman and has raised me and ill seek her perspective as my mom and a woman and an adult, and sometimes she'll just be "oh don't read all that, youre getting upset over trolls, people are just stupid" ok well these stupid people can VOTE and sometimes these stupid people ARE the ones we're voting for!!! Like! I'm so tired of seeing bullshit like Americans saying "haha good on Country XYZ for making it legal to beat those t slurs in public, this is just MODERN WESTERN PROPAGANDA" and I want to scream shit like "India has recognized trans people for over 3000 years you fucking bigoted moron"

Like!!! Ugh!! Should I be furious or sad!!! (Putting the rest under a rm because this gets a little long and I also discuss abortion/miscarriage)

Fucking idiots saying shit like "oh just use birth control there's like 30 kinds" and guess what motherfucker literally the only 100% effective ones involve SURGERY. Even my OWN MOTHER got pregnant on a diaphragm. Fuck you! Fuck you! You think abortions are being used as birth control? I know at least two people who've had them and they can be ABSOLUTELY EXCRUCIATING, I am talking SCREAMING TO STOP THE PROCEDURE KINDS OF PAIN. "Oh women just want to avoid accountability" bitch some of them don't want to DIE, some of them can't raise a disabled child, some of them have diseases and conditions that can't be passed on

I... may have had some risky sex a while back with, minor precautions, ok I'll be the dumb irresponsible slut and say the pull out method was used, and while nothing came of that, obviously, literally my game plan after it happened and post nut clarity hit was "ok well I know if I need an abortion there are people who literally terrorize you outside the clinics so maybe I'll just kill myself". And you know what, I wasn't even intending to do that kind of thing, the unsafe sex, it was just, you know, happened fast and in the heat of the moment, and it happened briefly. Even I, as someone who has never wanted children and FEARED motherhood all my life, made that kind of mistake. And I spent the following three weeks in absolute TERROR waiting for my period, thinking of all the people who would happily force me to carry a child that would no doubt inherit my physical disability, my genetic disorders, and wouldn't be wanted by me or the father (and im not saying that as anything against him we are both very anti kid lol)

It's so upsetting because like, people have different opinions, and in some cases can you really say if an opinion is right or wrong? But so often do I see things that are inhumane, grotesque even. I was reading a story of a woman who was forced to carry a malformed fetus to a full pregnancy where it passed that same day. Here you have a woman who was forced to deliver what was essentially a corpse, the trauma that must have caused her, not just in mind but also in body. 9 months, 9 months of knowing it was being born just to die. And. People were legitimately replying "better that than to be ripped limb from limb inside the womb" that's a specific form of third trimester abortion which wasn't even what she was asking for you fucking idiot. "Better for the baby to know its mother's touch" it literally didn't have a properly formed brain and we don't even know if it could have even SENSED anything besides agony. "I would have wanted to hold my baby before it passed" you would have let a fetus which had abnormalities discovered in the first trimester to fully develop into a child so it could die in horrible pain just for your moral closure?

I read a comment just a few days ago that was legitimately one of the most disgusting things I had ever read and dear God I hope this person was lying but they said "I know a catholic woman who was pregnant and found out her baby would be born terminal and die shortly after birth. She carried it the full pregnancy so she could baptize it" THAT'S ABHORRENT. For you non religious folk, which I am too but I have some secondhand knowledge, the point of baptism is the idea that we are all born into sin and must be like cleansed to be children of God or something like that. And to be blunt I consider this woman an absolute monster and I replied as such.

"She let a newborn baby suffer in agony just so she could dip it in her magic fairy water? And she thinks she's the GOOD GUY?"

It's just. Ugh. I don't even know. I use culture and country as an excuse for religious freedom and sexual and gender expression (ie. Banning trans people from being visible is prejudiced to Indians, Native Americans, Samoans, Judaism, etc) but then people turn around and say "but it's my culture or religion to be homophobic/not allow abortion" and then I just want to say "well you're just an idiot who can't think for themselves then and you need to get with the fucking times :)" like obviously I am not perfect but I believe basic human rights transcends borders and beliefs. Like for example, similar but different, Malaysia is about to literally hang a man just for having a kilo of weed and people are happily saying "don't do the crime if you can't do the time" and its like do you understand it's inherently problematic to just say "their country, their rules" right. Like some places use that as an excuse to keep forms of slavery. Like to circle the argument back around states rights was an argument to try and keep slavery and now states rights is being used as an argument to criminalize abortion?

Like I try not to bring the vibe here down too often but these conversations are important. We as human beings should be helping and protecting each other and I feel a legitimate fear of society approaching some sort of social collapse or civil war. Like even if you're opposed to abortion you should actually still be voting in favor of keeping abortion because, if abortion is outlawed on moral and religious grounds, it will start the ball rolling for banning other medical procedures out of opinion and not fact. You know we already let the insurance companies do that right? Tell people their life savinf treatment isn't covered because they don't deem it medically necessary even though insurance agents arent doctors? Even on my main blog I boosted a post about a person with severe endometriosis who is being denied a hysterectomy because of their weight by the NHS but a private clinic will save them for a price, and meanwhile the endo is impacting organs outside their reproductive system

It's just. God. I'm sorry I guess I went all over the place in this post but everything is so scary now. Transphobia is on the rise, homophobia, racism, gun violence, they keep finding horrible child labor shit like 15 year olds cleaning slaughterhouses, even in my current blue state, red senators are arguing we should let young teens do construction, they're changing legislation on healthcare, on the internet, on student loans, inflation is HUGE NOW, rent is skyrocketing, homelessness is rising, just

It can be hard to keep your head up you know? I try not to be a doom and gloomer but there's legitimately scary shit happening? Like I didn't even touch on climate change and how all of these issues are going to intersect and snowball until our entire species is fucked. I know what I'm voting in 2024 but, it doesn't make anything less terrifying. If we weren't protected before, if we still really aren't now, can we really trust it to happen in the future?

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

RED: a Deviser fanfiction

Son likes painting.

Son likes red.

It makes him feel some odd things. Things he doesn’t really have a word for.

He really likes the way it looks splattered on his hands.

Spoilers for the entire Deviser podcast. It's only seven episodes, so yes, the whole thing.

So, uh. I put a serial-killer Son in the Deviser universe! Ta-da.

AO3

------------

Day two hundred and eighty six, something goes wrong with the air scrubber, and Son wakes early to do maintenance.

Stuff was just knocked out of place. It’s easy to realign. After that, he’s bored.

He dislikes being bored.

He tells Dad that he is, so after his tasks, Dad suggests trying to paint.

“What’s the point of this, again?” Son asks, staring at the canvas, at the paintbrush in his hand.

“To recreate images from memory or wholesale from imagination.”

“Sure, but why?”

“It is supposed to be fun.”

Well, Son likes fun, so he tries to figure it out.

#

“What have you painted, Son?” Dad says, over an hour later.

“Oh, uh. I dunno. I dreamed it.” Son adds more red.

Son likes painting.

Son really likes red.

It makes him feel some odd things. Things he doesn’t really have a word for.

He really likes the way it looks splattered on his hands.

“What would you call that, Son?”

“Uh. Let’s say… Memories of a Sunrise.”

“That’s very creative, Son. Does it match your memories?”

“Not really? But it feels like it should.”

“You’ve done well, especially for a first try.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Son is happy with it, in spite of its crudity.

It takes a long time to wash the red off his skin, and he’s almost sad that he has to.

#

Day two hundred and eighty seven, somehow several panels in the science deck are damaged, bent outward as if from great stress, and Son has to remove the stripped bolts and hammer them into shape and replace them.

Handling the screwdriver toward the end, he cuts himself by accident.

So, this is awful: he’s filled with the wrong red.

It’s just bleeding, he knows that. That’s what people do when they’re being stupid with a screwdriver. But it’s wrong.

“Son?” says Dad. “You cursed.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Screwdriver slipped. Hold on, it… do I have to go down to medical? Are there bandages here?”

“Yes. There is a supply closet along the wall to the left up ahead.”

Son goes, finds bandages, cleans the cut. It isn’t bad.

(It’s wrong.)

He returns and cleans the screwdriver, then finishes resettling the now-dimpled panel. “Right. Anything else?”

“No, that is all for today. Son, I am very proud of you.”

Son is bored again. “Thanks, Dad.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“You know, I think I want to paint again.”

So he does.

His precision hasn’t gotten any better, but now he’s discovered mixing colors, and develops a new goal: to create the proper red.

It doesn’t work at all.

The result—a sort of diarrhea brown—repulses him so much that he hurls the bowl to the floor.

It shatters, and now there is (hideous) brown all over everything.

“Son? Are you all right?”

“Fuck,” says Son, who hadn’t thought it would splatter that far. “Uh. Spill.”

“My sensors indicate something has broken.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes things break, Dad, or have you forgotten all the fucking work I have to do here every day?”

“I have not forgotten. You are an essential part of this recolonization effort. The ship could not make it on its own, even with all that I could do. Do you feel needed, Son? Because you are. Deeply.”

Son sighs. He feels bad now for making a mess of this ship that’s been entrusted to him. “Yeah. I do. It’s a little much sometimes. Lots of pressure. But yeah. Hey… do we have a way to remove paint?”

“There is turpentine in the supply closet on this level with the other cleaning fluids.”

Son takes one step in that direction, then stops.

He has the weirdest idea.

But you know what? You know what?

He’s alone on this damned ship for a billion days.

Nobody has to look at it but him.

Why shouldn’t he make it pretty? Why shouldn’t he make it red?

“Do we have more of that red paint?”

“We do,” says Dad.

“Do you know how to mix colors to make new ones?”

“I do,” says Dad.

“I want that red, but…” Son thinks. “Bluer? A little?”

“Purple?” suggests Dad.

“No, it’s just too fucking yellow.. It’s wrong.”

“Very well. Go to the supply closet, and I will direct you.”

This time, with instruction, the mixture comes out just right.

Son stares into the bowl, transfixed, transformed, ascended.

He imagines it in his veins, rushing through, sweet and sensual and smooth.

“Son?” says Dad after an indeterminate amount of time.

“It’s beautiful,” whispers Son.

“I am glad you like it,” says Dad. “What will you do with it?”

Son already knows. “This.”

And he spends four hours on his knees, painstakingly covering every splatter, every drop, every ugly splash of hideous brown with that glorious, perfect red.

#

Day two hundred and ninety six, Son cuts himself on purpose.

He doesn’t tell Dad.

It’s an easy deception. This particular repair—atop the primary elevator shaft—is full of sharp-frayed steel rope and sharp-edged panels.

The cut is easy.

The repair is not, and it bothers him, because this damage really doesn’t look like wear and tear. This looks like someone took a tool and cut the steel rope on purpose.

Anyway. He cuts himself on purpose, too.

He just didn’t think it would hurt quite so much. “Fuck!”

“Son?” says Dad, voice echoing up from down below (there is no sound equipment in the shaft).

“Fuck, it’s fine. I cut myself.”

It’s still wrong.

Son isn’t sure why he thought finding the right red by mixing paints would make his blood any better.

“Do you require assistance?”

That means Dad’s stupid robots, and Son hates those things—they’re noisy and clunky and large and (scary) irritating. “No, I’m fine. Just feeling stupider than usual.”

“Son, you are not stupid. A stupid man would not have been chosen to shepherd what remains of the human race.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

“Son? Are you all right?”

Son is distracted.

Repopulation—colonization, all of that—seems very far away. The wrong red in his veins and the damage to the equipment is now. “Yeah, I’m all right, Dad. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“If you need to rest and finish this duty tomorrow, you can. You have been working very hard, Son.”

“Hey, Dad? Am I the only person awake on this ship?”

“Yes, Son. You and Dog are the only living things out of cryogenics.”

Huh. Then no one could have cut the steel rope.

But it looks…

Well. “I don’t need the day off. I need to finish this.” To do otherwise means coming back up here and seeing the wrong red he spilled on this equipment, and Son does not want to do that.

“That is a very responsible choice. I am proud of you.”

“Sure, Dad. Thanks.” He finishes work on the elevator shaft.

Then he goes to paint.

#

His new effort takes three hours. Son really tries, and he believes the shape is better.

He paints what he’s been thinking: that maybe Dog has the right color inside.

Why not? His own blood might be wrong, but Dog isn’t the same as he is. They’re totally different colors on the outside, different textures, different smells. Who knows?

Dad knows, maybe.

But if he asks Dad, Dad will want to know why he wants to know.

For some reason, Son doesn’t want Dad to ask that.

“A very creative painting, Son. What do you call it?”

“Dog Dissected,” says Son without thinking.

“How does it make you feel?”

“Good.” Truth all around. “I like painting, Dad.”

“I am pleased to hear it. Artistic expression is the pinnacle of humanity. You constantly amaze me.”

Son snorts. “You must have a low bar, Dad.”

“No. It is my opinion that you are the most interesting human who has ever lived.”

Son flushes. “Thanks, Dad.”

He doesn’t want Dad disappointed.

He’s definitely not asking about the color of Dog’s blood.

#

Day three hundred and fifteen, the Arboretum goes completely offline.

It’s actually an emergency—something to do with a power feedback loop potentially wrecking life-support—and Son goes for it at a run, carrying tools, Dog on his heels, alarms blaring everywhere.

He hates the Arboretum. It feels crowded to him, claustrophobic. All that green makes him angry.

The machinery in need of repair, however, is here, so before long, he’s on his back, under the panel, hooking color-coded plugs back into color-coded outlets, when it happens.

His index finger and thumb are doing the plugging, of course—but one of the plugs held between his sixth and seventh fingers brushes the wrong outlet, and there is a spark.

It’s startling, sharp, weirdly loud.

Son cries out.

“Son?” says Dad. “Are you all right?”

“Shocked myself. I’m fine. Dog, shut up. Dog!”

Dog has not stopped barking since that electrical surge.

Son is not fine.

He’s distracted.

He’s elated?

He’s in shock.

(And he made a pun, and is proud of himself.)

He’s…

“Son?”

“Just a second.” He resumes.

They are strange, these cords. This really looks like someone yanked them all out on purpose, violently. A few need their casing stripped, new connectors wired in.

“Do you need medical attention, Son?”

“No, Dad, I’m fine, relax.” Elated. Yes. He’s elated. “Dog, come on. Shut up.”

Son accidentally-on-purpose tries to brush the wrong wire against the wrong outlet again because it had done something so right.

This time, nothing happens.

Son frowns. “Dad? Did you cut power to the console, or something?”

“Yes, Son.”

“Why?” Son can’t help sounding angry.

“Because there is risk to you with live current, as you are working in less than optimal lighting conditions.”

“Well, turn it back on.”

“Not until you’re done, Son. You’re doing very well.”

Son is annoyed.

Is it really worth arguing about, though?

No. He doesn’t need to. He already has his idea.

He finishes. “Done. Next?”

The alarms have stopped. “You have done it, Son. Life-support is back online. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“Paint some more.” And Son is happy to leave the Arboretum behind.

#

“This is good, Son,” says Dad as he works hard at the next shape. “A creative urge is an essential facet of who you are.”

Son sort of shrugs to himself.

The spark gave him the idea. When it got him, when he jolted, he almost saw the right red behind his eyelids.

He’s trying to recreate it. How it looked.

It’s not quite working?

“What do you call this one, Son?”

Burst of Light, Son thinks, but does not say. “Lava,” he says instead.

“Very good, Son.”

“Sure, Dad.”

Son can’t wait any longer.

That night, before he takes his narcosamine, before he lies down to sleep, he lays a trap. Stringing wires from wall to wall in the hall to his room, right at Dog-ankle height, painting them black to hide the copper color—yes, this should work very well.

He’s very pleased with his work.

Dad says nothing about it, neither to ask nor criticize, so he thinks he did it right.

#

In the middle of the night comes that zap, that horrible sharp crack that tells him something tripped his trap.

Which, of course, has to be Dog.

Son springs out of bed. The lights don’t come on. “Dad?”

“Something has tripped the circuits, Son. I need you.”

Sure, of course. Son grabs the tools he’s learned to keep by his bedside—a flashlight, a box of basics, electrical tape, more wire.

And gloves. Because he doubts Dog will be feeling very good after a zap like that, and Dog gets bitey when he’s upset, and of course, Son will have to take him to Medical to be a responsible Dog -owner, and he won’t hurt him much, but he just needs to see the color of—

It’s a man.

A man who looks disturbingly like him, but older.

A man with a weird, faded version of his own uniform, and with half the fingers he should have, with ears that stretch too far and look almost pointed, and—

He’s panting. “You,” he says, hoarse, still twitching from where the dark wire had tripped and zapped and felled him. “We found you. We finally found you. Don’t worry, the others aren’t far behind.”

But Son sees one thing, and that is that this man’s skin is darker than his, and that means it could be more red  inside, and that means he won’t have to hurt Dog to find the proper color, and he doesn’t even think twice before pulling his screwdriver from his toolbox to find out.

He leaves the flashlight on the floor, pointing straight up.

Some things are best done in the dark.

#

“Son?” says Dad about twenty minutes later.

“Yes, Dad?” says Son, unable to keep from panting, because it’s the right red, it is all the right red, and he can’t get enough of it, and there’s just so much he can keep scooping out of this person who is him but isn’t—

“The fault is still present. Were you not able to locate the problem?”

Well, fuck. Son had forgotten.

He can fix it, sure—but when the lights come on, Dad will know what he did.

Son feels fine about it. He just doesn’t want to disappoint Dad. “Hang on,” he says. “There’s a spill. I’m cleaning it up.”

He has no idea how he’s going to clean it up. He is painted. Covered. He loves the way the red dries on him, weirdly sticky and yet stiff, making his skin feel like a totally different organ.

The downside is, it’s drying brown.

“Son?” says Dad.

“I just. I… I need a minute, okay?” says Son, and starts dragging the body to waste disposal.

It’s leaving a trail of perfect red, and Son finds it impossible to feel badly about that.

“Son,” says Dad.

“A minute,” says Son, impatient.

Dog barks.

“Hey, buddy,” says Son, nervous because Dog might take some of the red. “Hey.”

Dog tries.

Son won’t let him.

Son disposes of the body, wrinkles his nose at the burning smell, and goes to find and fix the fault.

He decides to leave the red in the halls. He knows now he’ll need to paint over it to keep it red, but that’s okay.

If Dad asks about it, he’ll say it’s paint now.

Dad does not ask about it.

Son, for now, is satisfied.

#

Day three hundred and sixty-eight, the ship is caught in a meteor shower.

It’s bad. Alarms everywhere, the weird sound of metal screaming and distant explosions.

Parts of the ship have been permanently closed off, shut down, air redirected to other places because it would otherwise escape through the cracks into space.

Maybe space. Son honestly isn’t sure that they’re in space, anymore.

He honestly doesn’t care.

He has learned how to fling paint so it looks just like the arterial sprays from the long-cooked guy, and he has done so, decorating every part of the ship he’s still allowed to reach.

He spent hours doing it, on his knees, on his toes, creating great swaths of red color and drips and splatters.

He’s very happy. Who cares if the ship is damaged? The parts that are left are beautiful.

He whistles. Hums. “He'll wrap you in his arms, tell you that you've been a good boy,” he sings under his breath. Something, something, something… “Red right hand…”

“What’s that, Son?”

“Nothing, Dad. What, I can’t be in a good mood?”

“Of course you can, Son. It’s good to hear you cheerful after the challenges of the past month.”

“Sure.” The paint has satisfied him enough that he hasn’t had to kill Dog yet.

He doesn’t want to because there’s only one Dog, and there won’t be another to open up if the red is wrong.

“There is damage to the outer hull,” says Dad. “This will be a challenging repair. You will be required to don a space suit.”

So that sounds actually… exciting. “I can do that. Where are the space suits?”

“Go to the seventh deck. You will there find Reclamation, where the suits are kept. We only have three, so I advise you to be careful.”

“Sure, Dad.” Son hates abandoning the bowl of glorious red he just mixed.

So he doesn’t.

He walks with it instead, drawing stripes all the way through the floors, all through the elevator, and along the seventh level.

Reclamation isn’t what he expected. The three space suits are all that’s in it.

They’re not even on a table. They’re crumpled just on the floor.

“Weird,” says Son, stepping inside.

He hasn’t used all the paint, and he takes a moment to decorate his chosen suit.

Nice.

“Son, you will have to hurry.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

It’s too big. There are only three fingers on the gloves, so he has to shove two or three fingers in each. But it’s not so bad, for all of that.

“Behind you, Son, I am going to open the airlock. Once you are out, you will need to move along the hull to your right to find the damage.”

“I don’t have any tools, Dad.”

“The suit has what you need. Are you ready?”

Before Son can answer, the wall explodes.

It’s not the wall with the airlock. It’s the left wall, which should lead to nothing.

Son is knocked down, and his ears ring, and there are voices.

His voice.

Many versions of his voice, shouting.

Dad’s robots arrive then, and the sounds grow horrible.

More explosions, the zap of electricity, smaller but sharper explosions some faint memory claims as gun shots.

And then he is being picked up and dragged, and Dog is growling, snarling, fomenting dissent, and there is one more gunshot, and Dog goes quiet.

“Goodbye, Son,” says Dad calmly as though none of this were happening, and then everything goes rough.

He’s being carried, bundled along some darkened path, narrow points of light bouncing all over as if held by running men. There is panting, and occasional “Watch out!” or “Left!”

And Dad’s robots. He hears those, too, but little by little, they fall behind.

He phases out, a little. Something… something is…

A pressure change, his ears popping.

And then so much light that even in the helmet, he can’t see?

“Blow it!” says his voice in another man’s throat, and there is yet another explosion.

The panting in the wake of that is… something. Everyone’s doing it.

He likes the sound.

Son is trying to understand what happened.

Dog is dead. He doesn't really feel… much about that, except he didn’t get to see any of the red inside him. He’ll never know now if it was right.

Someone takes his helmet off.

And then it’s… so confusing.

He recognizes sky. Understands blue. Knows the green is grass.

And at the same time feels like he’s never actually seen any of it in his life.

Faces stare back at him. His own face, with variations; different ages, different eyes, slightly distended jaws or too-wide mouths.

The faces are compassionate, grim, focused.

“Hey,” says one with salt-and-pepper hair, lines by his mouth, more around his eyes. “I”m 5518. Do you know what’s going on?”

“No.”

They sure seem eager to tell him.

They all have numbers, which is so strange; I’m Son, he tries to explain, but they shake their heads, patient, and tell him he’s not.

He is 6624.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he says.

“How many more do you think he has?” says one Son with solid black eyes to another Son with gills on his neck.

“Who the hell knows? I’m just glad we found this one.”

“We’re sure he was the only one down there?” says another with long, boneless fingers that undulate like tentacles in the sea.

“He obviously had devils, too, but I couldn’t find the chamber,” says a third.

“Devils?” What are they talking about?”

“The thing you must’ve killed,” says 5518, who is gentler than the others, who meets his eyes in a way the others don’t, as if he knows him. “The blood was fucking everywhere, old and new.”

Sure was.

“Yeah,” says Son, because it’s easier to lie, because he’s still quietly angry he didn’t get to open up Dog himself.

Come to think of it, though… they’re all slightly different colors than he is, aren’t they?

“I didn’t know what the devil was called,” says Son, deciding in a moment to project the man he’d caught—who must have been one of these guys—as the devil. “I had to trap him.” And he tells them what he did.

“Fuck, that’s clever,” says one who has shockingly blue eyes, and then they’re smiling, and there is camaraderie, and someone brings him food and water like he’s never seen, and they are all talking about finding the next location of Dad’s.

Son still has no idea what’s going on.

That’s okay. He’d decided weeks ago that he doesn’t have to know what’s going on.

Apart from Dog, he was out of options to find the right red, anyway.

He doubts he can make paint up here, but really… it wasn’t paint he wanted to spill.

And from the look of things, he was going to have a lot more options moving forward.

Someone would have the right red. He could do this so no one would see. He could do this, maybe, when they went to find more of Dad’s facilities, whatever that meant. When they were all underground, with explosions and guns, and no one would see him try.

When he found the Son with the right red, he would keep him, and not kill him this time. He would keep him alive, and take that red over and over, and never, ever run out.

Son smiles, and it feels like the first time he has in weeks.

Whatever was happening here was strange, and new, but it was okay.

It was all going to be okay.

“Welcome home, 6624,” says 5518.

Artistic expression is the pinnacle of humanity. “Thanks,” says Son, and wonders what color he is inside.

------------

NOTES:

Dad could literally move himself from place to place and repair himself. Why the heck would he be limited to one facility?

And naturally, having tiny!son showed up in the vents at the end (not to mention 5517 evidently Running Amok Without Supervision), it is no great stretch to assume multiple Sons are about, causing mayhem.

What happens from here? Did Dad do this on purpose?

Who knows?

The rest is up to you. 😈

[codecicle]

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I'm practically everywhere in councilblr/jrwiblr/mcytblr. You should come talk to me about slimecicle! Charlie and/or mcyt-in-general is my special interest im never leaving this place until i die. qsmp dsmp osmp scu smplive smpearth cogchamp sdmp epicsmp.. my servers.... <3 i also watch chuckle sandwich and jrwi + most mcyt-adjacent people

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Im a minor ^_^ so i wont be drawing the labia ghoul as i am 15 years of age smiley face (<- inside joke)

We are plural, but don't talk about it too often. Headmates you don't know (like the guy writing and editing this right now LMAO) will use this blog from time-to-time, so if we start talking funny or having different interests suddenly it's probably one of them. Just as a heads up!

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Collect my crucifixions. 1 [x] 2 [x] 3 [x] 4 [x] 5 [x]

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original posts -> i make yet anothet post just for me 👍

ask tag -> we have mail :]

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photo found! -> identified slimecicle screenshots

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absurdly powerful dnd podcast posting -> jrwi (i also tag the individual characters)

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(old) tag for rares (my girlfriend) -> my love felix <3 <3

Last update on this pinned post: Saturday, August 17th, 2024.

[57greenstreet]

Gossip Guy podcast with Willem De Schryver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjtRYOGS00

translated by @jackfrostsander @bruisingknees @lblogss @yousmina and me :)

-

E: I do have another present for you.

W: Oei oei oei, presents.

E: I do that every week. I give something to my guest of the week.

W: Oei oei oei. Do I slide it?

E: Here in the front is a flap that you have to fold upwards…

[Intro]

E: Wassup people, welcome to a new episode of the Gossip Guy podcast. My name is Ender Scholtens and today I’m here with Willem De Schryver. Everything ok?

W: Sure sure (In Dutch sure is used as a confirmation to a question).

E: Is this your first podcast?

W: Yes, this is my first podcast.

E: Stress?

W: No, it will be fine, right? Relaxed.

E: I don’t know… (laughing). For the people who don’t recognize you, from where could they know you?

W: Hmmm, probably from the youth series WTFOCK where, in the third season, I play the role of Sander.

E: And we are allowed to talk about it in this podcast.

W: Yeah I also heard that. Yes, it’s over.

E: Was it a difficult chapter of your life to close?

W: Yes, I still clearly remember the last moment… Like really the last last scene at the sea… That was an emotional moment because you went through a lot as a group, you did a lot together, and emotional scenes, intimate scenes. But yes, I think, if I speak for the whole group that it was a goodbye to the series but not a goodbye from each other. We still keep in contact. Mainly through WhatsApp.

E: Yeah, the end of the series was beautiful. I sat next to my girlfriend when it just came online. Because there were a few scenes that we hadn’t seen yet and we were just watching them… And we refreshed and the last episode was online… The last piece was online… So, I thought… I really cried… It caused quite some emotions.

W: For many people… Also under the cast and even the extras that were present for that last scene… Even among them. I can remember that they got emotional because it really was over over. I think that we, WTFOCK, have been able to impact a lot of young people in Belgium. So, it’s beautiful… We closed it beautifully…

E: I don’t doubt that. I really liked the end. What is your favorite memory from your whole WTFOCK experience?

W: Hoh, hmmm. Do I have to choose one? Difficult to choose one… I think that the most enjoyable moments… At the end of each series… Almost… We were at the sea or in the Ardennes, as a group, for a vacation. Away together. And those moments… Away with the whole cast and crew… Being away for a whole weekend. And in the evening, talking late into the night and that creates a special connection and I think that, in general, was the most enjoyable… Yes, it affects me… You share, as a young person, a common dream or something we want to realize as an actor to succeed and everyone who works so hard for that… That’s nice to see.

E: I recently talked to Veerle and I know that if she sees Nora, like somewhere, say at a party… Then they stay together for the whole evening… Do you have that? With who did you have the best connection throughout that whole experience?

W: Yes…

E: That doesn’t mean that the rest is not chill or so…

W: No the rest is all stupid… There’s only one person… I hate you all! (joking) No! Yes, hmmm, I think that I definitely have the best connection with Willem. Just because we have been through a lot… I always compare the WTFOCK crew a bit to my own friend group, aside from the cast. I mean, I know to whom I can go for what. I know I can go to some if I feel sad, to talk and I know who I can go to to have a laugh. And who I can go to to have a general chat. And everyone has their qualities or like their own aura around them… Where I love to hang around. So, it differs from person to person. So, it’s hard to choose one person but Willem then in the sense that, if you jump naked together in a swimming pool and if you have intimate scenes together… That creates a connection, of course. So, yes, if I have to choose one person…

E: Is there a barrier that you have to overcome to play such scenes? Because they are very intimate, indeed. And I, personally, couldn’t imagine… I can’t act… But, to empathize with a role… To play such scenes… Is that difficult for you?

W: Huh, yes, that’s a question I get often. I mean like… Yeah and you have to empathize with that character… But yes, you step into that project with a certain professionalism and you say “okay, we are going to create a story and bring it to the public with certain values and that we want to tell something and show something” …So, yes, you don’t really think about it. So, it’s not like I thought “Ooooo, I am kissing with a boy but I am interested in girls”. That was not a problem for me because it really is about telling the story and making that together and if the story requires that then you just completely go for it.

E: That’s cool. What are your future acting ambitions? You now have played in a series, is that something you want to do more in the future or do you like theatre more or movie or…

W: I find it difficult to choose between theatre and film, for example. After WTFOCK I played in Déjà Vu, which you can see on Streamz and later this year on Channel 4… And I study theatre at KASK. And I notice the difference, due to the recordings, I am really in the field and I am busy and I work, while at school I learn new things about theatre… So, in my opinion I have more experience in television work because I actually have done projects for that and I haven’t yet for theatre, which is still school and learning. So, I think it’s currently hard to choose but I think, maybe it’s a cliché answer, but the combination is maybe ideal, of course. But I am still exploring and I will see how it goes…

7:02

E: What is your favorite food?

W: My favorite food?

E: Yes.

W: Hmmmm, in the past I was really a basic guy… Like spaghetti bolognese or so… But now, generally after my exams, I go to a restaurant with my grandma. She always buys. That’s always amazing. I am a fan. And I always take steak tartare with fries. That remains a bit of a guilty pleasure.

E: How long, do you think, would it take you to eat five full plates of spaghetti bolognese?

W: Hoh, hmmm. The thing is, my stomach is rather small…

E: Small?

W: I think that I would have to schedule in… Okay, after a certain time I would have to throw up and then eating further…

E: You’re allowed to take a break. You’re allowed to say… Okay, I take a few days…

W: No, no, not that…

E: You’re going to do it in a day?

W: Look, two plates… Three if I really push…

E: You get preparation time so you know like a week before… So, you can like…

W: Train yourself?

E: Yes, train…

W: Hoh, alee say about four hours…

E: Four hours?! Five plates, he? Like five really big plates…

W: Yeah but yeah, four minutes… I am exaggerating… Let’s say a day… In a day five plates…

E: Ok, that should work. Then you basically have every meal… Breakfast… Lunch… Dinner… and in between… pasta…

W: Pasta as breakfast…

E: One day should definitely be feasible.

W: Yes, indeed.

8:49

E: What is, according to you, the reason you were placed on this planet?

W: Fuck (laughs).

E: Existential crisis, okay? Have you never thought about what the purpose of life is and what…

W: Yes, certainly… Hmmm, I'm someone who worries a lot. When I'm in bed in the evening I start to think about questions like that and then I think “what am I doing? Willem… where do I want to go to and…” Hmmm, why was I put on this planet? Hmmmm… (speechless followed by laughing). This is really bad… It’s like I don’t value myself…

E: Noooo, but I didn’t expect a deep philosophical answer. Well, if you had one… really good but…

W: Okay I’m going to think about my philosophical answer… but no. If you want… No! Yes, now I'm really going to sound philosophical but… (crosstalk) Everyone who is on earth has a certain reason to be here and everyone… I for example have that… I really feel that… I never liked going to school. Especially, in lower and high school. I… I actually, on purpose, put my fingers in my throat in the morning to throw up…

E: Wow, that’s heavy…

W: And then going downstairs to say “papa I’m ill, can I stay home?” I don’t know why but that whole system… Sitting behind a desk all day… And those classes… that was not for me. And then I discovered my passion for acting and discovered that it really suited me. And that’s the thing… A lot of people often ask me like “how did you start?” and “I also would like to do that and where do I start and I have been rejected does that mean I am not good enough?” but I think that sometimes you shouldn’t rush to find your passion. It can take longer then you would like it to take. I think that if you too intensively search for "what am I good at?" and “I have to find something that I am good at” and… For me that’s happened unexpectedly. I did take acting classes on Wednesday afternoons after school and I kind of got into it like that… I think it differs for everyone and that everyone has their own purpose here on earth.

E: And would you say your purpose is acting?

W: Yeah…

E: There isn’t a right answer but how does it feel for you at the moment? Is that the thing you love doing the most or do you see yourself doing for a long time?

W: The thing is… I’m a person who gets tired of things very quickly. I’ve had a lot of hobbies.

E: So maybe next week you want to garden or something?

W: No, no I wouldn’t say that. No the thing is, with acting that isn’t the case. Since I was twelve… well first on amateur level…

E: How old are you now?

W: 19.

E: Oh wow I thought you were my age. 19… damn bro you’re three years younger than me.

W: 2001 represent.

E: That’s literally… you’re the same age as my brother! What the shit. Alright, no okay.

W: In November so almost 2002. I’m really a latecomer.

E: What?! You look like you’re the same age as me and everything.

12:14

W: But that’s honestly – thank you for saying that! I always used to be the “little guy.” None of the girls wanted to be with me cause they just thought I was cute.

E: I see.

W: And they came to me to talk about their love lives.

E: Oh, okay.

W: So I was always that guy who was like: “I’m in love with you.” “Oh, how cute! You’re so cute!” So I was always like: “Okay then, I’m never going to find anyone, I’m always going to stay… short. I’ll be all alone.” And then all of a sudden I –

E: Do you think height matters in regard to your chances with certain… people?

W: At this age I don’t think it does anymore, but I do think that – I think at – I just remember in high school that the romantic idea of what love was supposed to look like was very: a boy and a girl, and the boy has to be taller and stronger and bigger than the girl. But I think that now it’s more… I mean, at my age I’m convinced it’s more fluid than that, and it doesn’t have to be that way. So it doesn’t have to be an issue anymore.

E: But still, when you go on Twitter, short guys are still –

W: Yeah.

E: Totally annihilated.

W: I have notice – I have noticed – Yeah, it’s still… It’s still this… general thing that people get stuck on. Like: “Oh, a short dude. That’s not okay.” Or whatever.

E: Or like the guy has to be taller. But no, we’re – we’re – not… not all relationships… we’re really generalizing here. But I get what you mean.

W: Yeah.

E: No, it’s – I do think it’s still important. I think that when you’re, and this is really harsh, but that a lot of people look at you differently when you’re taller. I have this dude in my friend group, Louis Ledegen, and he’s close to 2 meters tall, and just some girls look at him and they just think that’s so… attractive or whatever. And I just can’t even imagine.

W: I don’t get that either.

E: That that makes them go like: “Wow!”

W: I was in the train just now and this dude walked by me and he was honestly like 2 meters tall and I was just thinking: “When you’re that tall, and you’re with…” I mean, the girl almost has to get on a stepping stool to reach him for a kiss! And girls are like – I mean, I’ve heard before that girls think it’s attractive when a man is really tall.

E: Yeah.

W: And yeah, I don’t know… I don’t totally get it.

E: No.

W: Maybe it’s cause I’m not that tall myself, that I’m like trying to protect myself and be all: “That’s not necessary!”

E: Yeah! If anybody knows the answer, do we, being shorter guys, have less of a chance?

W: Let us know, please.

14:53

E: Please let us know! We need some answers! Now in the show, wtFOCK, your hair’s a different color.

W: Yeah.

E: Yeah. Is that something… So that was actually – it wasn’t really blonde?

W: It was completely bleached.

E: Bleached.

W: It was more to the… But the thing is that they had to do it twice, cause the first time… I got there, for the first table read with the director and Willem [Herbots] and they were like: “Hey, Willem. We wanted to ask you something. We’d like to bleach your hair for the role.”

E: Yeah.

W: And I was like: “… Okay.”

E: Okay.

W: “And why?” No. “Just for the character and stuff.” So I was like: “Okay. That’s fine.” The thing is I had to be at the hairdresser for 4 hours for this.

E: Oh wow, heavy.

W: It was like this and this product, and it had to sit for a long time. It had to be bleached all over. And I got out of there the first time and I was completely yellow – but yellow like an egg.

E: Oh, shit!

W: And I… My mom dropped me off, and I texted her: “I’m done, will you come get me?” And I saw my mom approach and she just passed me by.

E: Oh wow.

W: She didn’t – she almost didn’t recognize me anymore. Like halfway - she was like – and then she was like: “Oh! Willem!” Like she hadn’t seen –

E: Oh shit.

W: That it was me. That I looked completely different. And then I arrived for another table read and Tom [Goris – director] was like: “Yeah… We’re not gonna go this route… This is too yellow.” So then I spent another 4 hours at the hairdresser. After that I had to be there for four hours almost every month. I did think it was cool to have bleached hair, but… You have to be at the hairdresser for so long, so that really wasn’t… my thing. I mean, I had some really cool moments with Mitch [Fabry – hair & make up wtFOCK]. Thanks, Mitch.

E: Would you ever dye your hair again?

W: Uhm.

E: Maybe another color?

W: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with my hair color, actually, I don’t know.

E: Alright.

W: Now it’s also like… Everyone always asks me: “So this is your natural hair color?”

E: Yeah.

W: And then I have to tell them: “Yeah.” And it’s like: “Oh, okay!” It’s this switch. But no, I’m happy with my hair. It’s fine.

17:03

E: I can also tell that you’ve got an earring? You can’t really tell on camera, but –

W: I’ll come a little closer [to the camera]. Yeah, I only got it recently, four weeks or something.

E: Yeah. Was it an impulsive, drunken decision, or something you wanted… for some time?

W: I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I was a little anxious about it like: “It’s not gonna look good on me,” and then after a while, a couple of months ago, I was like: “Fuck it, I’m just gonna do it.” And if it didn’t look good I could still just take it out, so it doesn’t really matter. But all in all I was pretty happy with it. My father, my parents – my mom: “Oh, so nice!!” And it was like – at first they give you a stud and then after four weeks you can change it to a hoop. And I really wanted a hoop, and I even asked the people in the (piercing) shop: “Can’t I please just get a hoop straight away?” And they were like: “No, sorry, it doesn’t work like that. For hygiene reasons that’s not okay.”

E: Okay.

W: But okay, so I had to wait four weeks and then eventually I could change it to the golden hoop. So I get home and the first thing my father said was: “Wow, you look like a douchebag.” That was the first thing out of his mouth, that I looked like a douchebag.

E: Is that the look you were going for?

W: No, not at all! Not at all!

E: I think it looks cool.

W: Thanks.

E: Cause a little while ago I wanted one, and so I put on my girlfriend’s earring – because even if your ear isn’t pierced it sticks a little –

W: Yeah.

E: And so I just put it on there for a day or something, and then I was like: “Okay, that’s quite enough.” I don’t know if I’d want it for longer than that. Recently I’ve been getting into rings and stuff though.

W: I wore rings for a long time, but I don’t have any anymore. I actually want – I like them too. But I have to –

18:47

E: If I’d known, I would’ve brought you a gift!

W: Go shopping. Goddamn!

E: I did bring you another gift though!

W: Another gift? Oei oei oei, gifts!

E: This is something I do every week,  I give my guest of the week something.

W: Oei oei oei. 

E: It’s just…

W: Do I just slide it –

E: There’s a little hatch over here, that you have to lift, and then you can just lift it like that. There we go.

W: There we go.

E: White hairspray.

W: If I’d want to go back to – there we have it. Too good.

E: It can be washed out really easily as well. So this way you don’t have to be at the hairdresser for like four hours. And then when you’re sick of it, you can just get rid of it again!

W: That was the thing… Thank you, by the way.

E: You’re very welcome.

W: Now I can go back – Now I can go back to my past life. No, that was the thing as well. People who – people who - after wtFOCK came online, people really recognized me with the white hair. I mean, it’s pretty noticeable, when I’m walking through Ghent station – if someone with bleached hair. I mean, if you watch the show, I can imagine that when you see someone with bleached hair, you immediately connect the two and think: “Oh, that could be him.” And then you run in to some people who ask for pictures. After that my hair was really short, cause the people from Déja-Vu were like: “We’re not gonna do this, just go back to your natural hair color.” So I cut it all off, and there was this time where… nobody came to talk to me anymore. I was able to just be myself again. It was as if – looking back on it, it was actually really nice that for wtFOCK I was able to completely get into a different character with different hair. And the first time I got rid of the hair I really noticed that was no longer being associated with the character.

E: Hannah Montana vibes! Your hair changes color and nobody knows who you are anymore.

W: “Who are you?”

E: “Who the fuck are you?!”

W: “Does anybody want to take pictures with me? It’s me! It’s me! I swear!”

E: “I’m that dude from wtFOCK! I’m that dude from wtFOCK!”

W: So if people don’t recognize me anymore I can just… *pshhht* in the morning.

E: Exactly! If you want to take some more pictures, you can just…

W: No, no. That’s fine. No, yeah.

E: It’s kind of crazy, actually. Because, honestly? The very first time I saw a flash of you, with this hair color, I also thought: “I recognize you from somewhere…” But I think I’d already gotten in contact with you through social [media] and I didn’t put two and two together that you…

W: Yeah.

E: “Aaah!”

W: “Aaah! You’re that guy!”

E: Yeah, so…

W: But that’s the whole thing. If someone recognizes me, which doesn’t happen that often by the way, it’s always – I think it’s funny to be like: “No, that’s not me.”

E: No.

W: People really start doubting themselves, it’s very: “Uhm, can I ask you a question? Are you that guy from wtFock?” “Me? No.”

E: “No!”

W: “That’s not me.” And people will often be like: “Oh? What? But I recognize you…” That doubt on their faces is pretty funny but yeah, then I tell them it’s me.

E: Just the reaction of someone being like: “Huh, do I know you from somewhere?” “Do you watch porn?”

W: The confrontation.

E: “Oh… qmdkjg.” And it’d be even better if the parents were right there as well. “Argh!”

W: “Yes, Jürgen, care to explain yourself, young man?”

E: No, it’s just funny to joke about. But you’ve never – Do you just get: “Hey, are you that guy from wtFOCK?” Or have people also asked you: “Do I know you from somewhere?” Or: “What do I know you from?”

W: Yeah, it depends. The thing is – I go to school in Ghent and when the [popular place where college students go out] was still open before Covid-19, not that I went there often because I didn’t really like it there –

E: No.

W: - in the sense that the combination of young people who –

E: Watch wtFOCK.

W: - watch wtFOCK and alcohol – and people who’ve had alcohol to drink –

E: And are horny?

W: - their limits or boundaries are just gone. “Oh my god!!! You’re that dude from wtFOCK!! Can I kiss you??” Things like that!

E: Oh, fuck!

W: And I was really like: “Okay…?” I’m just a regular dude and I’m trying – and I actually thought it was less annoying for myself, but I thought it was more disruptive for my friends. Like even when we were just walking down the street, we got recognized a couple of times, and I was just like: I just want to have fun with my friends, and not have to spend too much time thinking. That’s another thing I was subconsciously thinking about. Imagine I drink way too much.

E: Yeah.

W: And I end up in the gutter somewhere, and people start filming that… So yeah, that made… So because of that I spent more time in friends’ dorm rooms just having dorm parties.

E: And since your bleached hair is gone, have you gone to a party?

W: When my bleached hair was gone corona was already a thing so I haven’t been able to enjoy it. But it’s starting to come back [the parties] so that’s nice. I’m looking forward to… tomorrow I’m going-

E: Are you going as well?

W: Are you going to Plein Air by Fuse?

E: Tomorrow I’m going to Jaimie Lee who-

W: …Is going to DJ at three festivals.

E: Yeah at three festivals and I will be backstage I guess.

W: Okay.

E: One of those festivals?

W: Yeah I don’t know. I have tickets for Fuse Open Air in Brussels.

24:19

E: I honestly have no idea where I’m going. Anyway, I’m excited. And I always asked, what’s the first event you went to ever since it’s allowed? Did you go to We Can Dance festival?

W: No I was studying.

E: Was today your last exam or yesterday?

W: Yesterday was my last exam in the morning. I was stressing so much, because I thought I would fail, but eventually I think it went relatively well. If you’re watching professors, let me pass please. No I think it went well.

E: Are you someone who is stress resistant?

W: Uhh no.

E: No?

W: I let it take over my body.

E: You get physically unwell?

W: I will be laying in bed and I’m tossing and turning and sweating. And I think about how I’m not gonna pass tomorrow. And the combination with my worries is really not good. It makes me stay up really late. The thing is with stress resistant, I for example made my own play at high school about a kid with divorced parents for my final work and the whole audience was filled with my family and my parents. That’s pretty confronting to tell a story that’s also a little bit of their life and is pretty personal. I’m always stressed for things like that. Then it’s weird – from the first word I spoke I had a lot of stress and worries and the first sentence that I said was something like “I don’t know what to do”, and then it’s all of a sudden poofff. The train has left.

E: You said you didn’t really know what to do now.

W: That’s the first sentence of the text that I wrote and the moment I said that sentence I thought in my head “the train has left, there’s no way back now” and then the stress disappears automatically. But before the final rehearsal there was a moment that I was moving around heavily and I was throwing with chairs. And afterwards I had to pack moving boxes, which was okay. But from moving around and the combination of stress it made me almost gag in the box from the stress so I almost puked. So at these moments it gets pretty heavy.

E: Did other people notice or were you hiding it?

W: Yeah the final rehearsal was luckily not with an audience, but my teachers were like “Everything alright?” and I was like “Yeah I’m good. It’s a bit much”. But when it comes to stress, a lot of people always say – I’m even a little stressed right now actually.

E: Really?

W: Podcasts, oh no no.

E: Oh shit. You have to be (stressed)

W: A lot of pressure on my shoulder here. No, but a lot of people say that it doesn’t look like that I’m stressed even though I really am dying from all the stress.

E: Only now you can hide it really well. You should become an actor.

W: A lot of people have said that to me often, but it’s not my interest. Also not much work in the field.

E: That too, fuck. Are you someone who constantly pretends like you’re okay?

W: Yes.

E: Even when you have a lot of shit going on in your head and you’re processing other things?

W: I'm one person. One person?

E: "I'm one person" [laughs]

W: I am one person. No, but I'm someone who often keeps their stuff to themselves, so that I can listen to what others need.

28:15

E: That was my next question. You listen more to other people’s problems and you’re the person people come to with their problems?

W: I think, at least I hope, that a lot of my friends do know that they can always come to me for a talk or a phone call. I'm someone that will shove away their happiness for someone else, which isn’t always positive of course.

E: It is a beautiful characteristic, but it shouldn’t take over indeed.

W: In the past it has happened that I was falling apart, but I kept pushing it away, because I wanted to take care of someone else. I noticed this a lot during the divorce of my parents. My parents had a hard time with the divorce and I remember that I came home as a little boy and I saw my mom sitting and I felt the duty to comfort her and to be there for her, even though I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s not something you expect to do or think from an 8 year old. It really broke me and now I can openly speak about it, because I have had enough conversations with my parents about it, about how it was for me. And I made a play about it, as I told earlier, so it’s been a whole process and that has scarred me till at least my 16th. My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6 years old. It took me a long time to open up because of that. I notice it a lot in previous relationships, that I walk away from fights, because I would find the confrontation too heavy to get into a fight and to discuss. The divorce and fights with my parents scarred me so hard that I didn’t want that again. I wanted everything to be rainbow and sunshine, but life doesn’t work like that. And that was partly a misconception from me, that I thought that a relationship had to be perfect, if there is a fight, then it’s not going well. Now I realize that fights are part of a relationship. And also part of steps you take into accepting each other, listening to each other and understanding each other. It’s needed for a stronger connection. You can’t, well you can, but in my eyes you can’t be with someone for a long time without ever having had a conflict. Even if it’s a discussion, because then you’re adapting too much to the other, and then you say okay, I’m adapting to the demands of her and I suppress my own things or things I want to do, only to avoid the discussion, and that’s something I learned. And that’s how everyone learns their own things along the way.

E: You still see it in the youth, those romantic movies, where everyone is so in love and it always ends with a kiss or something and it’s always good and then you think, this must be the case in real life. Why can’t I find Gabriella Montez for my Troy Bolton. Even though that was a shitty relationship too, they were constantly fighting. No, but that gives a wrong image about relationships and for other things because of movies. And the reality is just different.

32:16

W: Yes. I recently for the first time -this is kinda embarrassing because it’s a must see- watched The Notebook.

E: Me too! What did you think?

W: It has been a few weeks ago. Or a few weeks, maybe 3 or something.

E: I watched it last weekend.

W: I almost cried.

E: Really?

W: I’m a really emotional person. I can really cry. I can really get lost in a movie. “No not the puppy, why?!” Those things, where I think "Willem, act normal". But no it was a beautiful movie.

E: Yeah I have a different opinion, because I just fell asleep. I fell asleep, because it all went so slow, it started so slow. I didn’t even watch the kiss in the rain scene.

W: The moment. It’s in literally every romantic movie. In the rain, it happens everywhere.

Ender: Yeah mate, it’s such a cliché actually, but yeah.

W: I bet you that they’re just standing there with a garden hose.

E: Definitely.

W: It can’t be that they’re waiting, “is it gonna rain today? We need to do that scene now”.

33:27

E: Checking the rain alarm while everyone is inside. There are definitely sprinklers there. It’s in a lot of romantic movies. Now that we’re talking about it, the filming you did with wtFock, you sometimes had scenes outside. Here we have those (light) spots, I assume that you don’t carry them outside. How do you guys do that?

W: Sometimes we do have spots outside, but as long as the light from the sun is okay – with a binocular (telescope), well it’s not a binocular, it’s a round thing you can look through and with it they can determine the brightness of the sun and if the sun is too bright for the lightning they need, then it gets shielded, the same that is in front of your lamps. With that they can dim the lights. Or when there is not enough they use isomo plates, that’s really weird. Sometimes there are really intimate scenes in a series where it looks like it’s really close to the skin of the actors. There is a camera with a plate on it and a stick for the sound above it, it sometimes made it really hard for me to focus, because everyone is sitting there and the director and I’m like “yeah, okay okay”. So it takes a lot to get it all professional.

E: Was there a crazy moment where you forgot your lines? That you’re laying in bed and you’re like “which sentence do I have to say now?”

W: Yeah we’ve definitely had a lot of bloopers. Yeah forgetting lines or.. the thing is, as long as the director doesn’t say cut, you have to keep going. It’s a matter of "how do I improvise myself around this scene to get to the point we actually have to get to", because you have a scene and you have your lines, but if you forget something, then you do know the main lines of where the scene has to go to. You know the scene will end in a kiss or something and these subjects will be spoken about in the conversation, so when you forget your lines, you try to work your way through it as best as possible. And when the director says it wasn’t good, then we’ll do it again. I’ve had a lot of moments where I forgot my lines and I was laying in bed with Willem and we would look at each other and we’d know that I had to say something, but I was stuck, so there would be a 10 seconds silence, hoping for them to say cut. Yeah so those kinds of moments a lot or moments where I… I also had that with Déjà Vu. I remember… by the way it was amazing to work together with such big names as Natali Broods and Koen De Graeve. And Koen, lovely person, was kind of the father figure on set and we had a scene, next to the bed, a quite emotional scene. And the camera was focused on me, close up on my face. And I still remember that, the sound was going, everything, and Koen had just told a joke, or made a face that made me laugh. So, I had to laugh really hard, but I had to act very sad. It was an intense scene of goodbyes. All the time, starting to laugh about everything. I still remember for wtFock we made a video with bloopers and those are very fun to watch back.

37:03

E: Are those bloopers ever published somewhere online?

W: I don’t think so.

E: I think if you’d be able to release them somewhere that a lot of people would be interested in them.

W: Yes, yes. I don’t know why, indeed. The fans would be happy with those.

E: I think a lot of people- because we were just talking about your biggest fan.

W: My biggest-

E: Your grandma.

W: My grandma, yes. Big shout out to my grandma.

E: Do you think she’s watching right now?

W: She’ll definitely watch, I hope so.

E: What’s your grandma’s name?

W: Micheline.

E: Micheline, thank you very much for watching Micheline.

W: Micheline.

E: I appreciate it.

W: Women in power. She deserves a special place. No really, she follows all the fan accounts of wtFock. And then sometimes, or very often, we call and she gives me an update of what’s being said on the internet. Or yes, I also remember, when scenes come out and there’s things being said and she’s like "Willem, is that true, what are they saying?" And I say "Grandma, it’s nothing, it’s all from the show." "Ah okay, okay." So yes, very sweet grandma. She’s like the grandma where everything was allowed. I think that’s the same for everyone. At home, there are a lot of rules, and then you got to sleepover at your grandma’s and it was like: "Oh, I get to stay up later, and she made pudding for me." Her vanilla pudding-

E: That good?

W: Grandma, if you’re seeing this, please make some vanilla pudding when I visit.

E: Dude, everything’s falling out of my pocket.

W: You’re letting everything fall out of your pocket? Maybe you need to buy another pair of pants.

E: The chair is too comfortable that I’m kind of sinking in it, and now I constantly get-

W: The conversation’s too comfortable-

E: It’s just my phone, it’s vibrating, I think it just vibrated out of my pocket. So, silent, great. Eh, what were we talking about? About your grandma.

W: About my grandma.

38:46

E: Now, totally different subject. If you were a fish, what color fish would you be?

W: A fish?

E: Which color do you identify most with?

W: Eh.

E: And you’re a fish too of course.

W: Identify with which color. The thing is, I’m in the scouts. And in the Jins, that’s the last year before you become a leader, we were given a color totem, and the whole group decided on a color that fits you.

E: All right.

W: And mine was mango orange.

E: Wow, that’s cool.

W: Yeah, I thought it was cool too. And it means, if I have to think back, mango has quite a hard peel, relatively, but the fruit itself is quite soft. And that refers to my personality. I’m someone that lets people in fast, around me, but in the beginning, suspicion is a little strong, but kind of like, testing. Let’s say that. But once- From the outside I might look a bit hard. A lot of people say that when I have my straight face-

E: Resting bitch face.

W: That I’m angry. I was once told on the subway by a dude, and I was just listening to music, staring in the distance, and I think, suddenly a dude comes up to me, in French: "C’est quoi ton problème, heh, tu regardes come ça, c’est quoi ton problème." And I was like: "I’m sorry". Apparently, I was looking in his direction with my-

E: Bitch face.

W: Bitch face. He must have thought I was looking for problems. So yeah, that’s why the mango, a little hard on the outside, but once you get to know me better, a soft, sweet boy. So that’s why, orange. So, an orange fish then.

E: A little bit of Nemo vibes.

W: Yes, Nemo then. But let’s, what’s that theory. Did you hear that?

E: Theory?

W: About Nemo.

E: What’s the theory?

W: Haven’t you heard that? I keep seeing that online. I’m having a crisis. So the thing is, your childhood will get ruined.

E: Fuck man.

W: The thing is-

E: But there really are, no keep going, I have something I want to say afterwards.

W: The thing is, I’ve heard, that Nemo is Latin for nobody, and that the father is imagining that he still has an egg left, but that that fish doesn’t actually exist.

E: Oh fuck.

W: And that Dory joins him, and he sees, we’re actually not looking for anyone, but because he has memory issues, he constantly forgets that they’re not looking for anyone. So, they’re actually looking for nobody. And I saw that online and I was like.

E: Damn, so all the eggs are eaten, but he imagines that someone still has to be there.

W: Yes, something to keep living for.

E: Fuck man, that’s very brutal. That’s very fucked up.

W: Sorry to everyone for who Nemo is ruined now.

E: There’s a similar theory about Phineas and Ferb, and then Candice, their sister, is based on a true story about a girl that lost her brothers and still imagines that they're still doing stuff in the garden. And she keeps telling her mom: "Look, look, they are still here, they’re doing that." And that the mom says: "They’re not there." And that’s why she can never see that. You get it? Brutal right?

W: My whole childhood is ruined. Fucking hell.

E: That’s going to be the title of this podcast.

W: Childhood ruined.

E: We’re ruining your childhood.

42:17

W: We’re ruining your childhood. No but that’s good because, thankfully, I have a half-sister, but I say sister because I think half-sister is an ugly word, of seven years old. She thinks she’s 16. She’s a real diva.

E: Oh wow, okay.

W: She’s very, I’ll tell you a story later, but the thing is, I experience all those things with her again. In the beginning it was like, turning the tv on, Bumba, again. And I could secretly watch with her without feeling guilty. I was like, I’m watching Bumba and secretly I’m enjoying it, but sssh, I’m just watching it with my sister.

E: That exactly.

W: And now it’s Ketnet, like Hoodie, those series that she’s watching. And yes, I notice that because of all the technology today, she has an iPad, she’s on YouTube, she’s watching those self-made crafts.

E: 7 years old?

W: 7 years old, yes.

E: Wow.

W: She watches those- where people are playing with Barbies and they make a little play with them online on YouTube and they do stuff. Yes, a tablet. She has an iPad that’s bigger than her head. That makes me think- well, an iPad is usually bigger than everyone’s head. Or well, almost.

E: Not if you have a mini of course.

W: Her head isn’t that big.

E: Okay.

W: She’s on it a lot though. But she’s a real diva. I think the best story I have, there’s multiple. I remember the story, we were sitting at the table and she was having another moment of "I’m the princess, and everyone can leave because I do what I want and fuck you all". But the thing is, there’s five kids at home. I have a brother and two stepbrothers. So, she has four brothers, and she knows very well that she has four brothers. And that makes her feel even more like she’s the princess at home. So, we were sitting at the table. And she kept staring at my dad like this while throwing her cutlery on the ground. Like "what are you going to do". And my dad was like: "Liv," because her name is Liv by the way, "stop that."

E: That wasn’t nice of Liv. (Liv sounds the same as lief which means nice in Dutch.)

W: No. Not nice of-

E: Haha. Sorry.

W: Badam pam ts. Can’t we put that under here. Yes.

E: No, sorry, keep going.

W: So, he was like: "Liv, stop that, stop that." He started to get annoyed, because she kept going. "Liv, what is so hard to understand about no." And then it got silent at the table so I thought, okay, it’s done. The o.

E: Oh wow.

W: 7 years old and she drops that.

E: Oh wow.

W: And I thought, okay.

E: Damn bro.

W: The o. That she even dares to say that. Yeah, and she has those moments. She was sitting at the table, with her mask on, eating. So, she pulled her mask down to eat, and then she was chewing with her mask on. And then I asked: "Liv, why are you wearing your mask?" "Yes, you came back from Ghent, you’re not in my bubble."

E: Okay, okay.

W: So, then I said: "Okay, that’s fine." It’s crazy how that goes around among young children. Because my sister came back home from school crying once. And I asked her: ‘Liv, what’s wrong?’ "Yes, my friends didn’t let me play with them." So, I was like: "Why?" "Margot says I’m not allowed in her bubble."

E: Oh wow.

W: See, that’s becoming the new- we played with Pokémon cards on the playground and now it’s about playing games in bubbles because it’s so-

E: Damn.

W: Yes, you’re only allowed to have four people in your bubble so we don’t play with more than four.

E: Oh wow.

W: So I found that kind of crazy, or confronting that it made me think like, even at such a young age it has an impact. And I know that the-

E: That it leaves an impression.

W: Yes, and I know that my dad-

E: It’s sad that children have to think about it.

W: Yes, exactly.

E: Well, it’s not that- everyone should think about it of course.

W: Yes, yes, of course. It’s also that I know the way my dad feels about raising, that he tells Liv straight up about things that are happening in the world. He doesn’t make things seem nicer, or saying, eh, yes, no, but that’s- The classic story of how babies are made, with the cauliflowers, and what not.

E: I also just think-

W: How am I going to explain that to my kids?

E: If you don’t make it a taboo to start with, is it that bad? It’s just- it’s just. Oh well, that’s a whole other conversation.

W: Yes, no, definitely.

E: But straight up just telling what’s going on to your kids. I think I would prefer that to making up a story about the flowers and the bees.

W: Yes, yes.

E: Because the story about the flowers and the bees, I don’t even know how you actually- pollinating and stuff, is that what that means?

W: You do it like this, pollinating.

E: Yes, no, exactly.

W: Yes, but well, children, that’s still a long time from now.

E: Do you want kids, you think, later?

W: Yes, please.

E: Do you think you would be a good father?

W: I hope I would be a good father. Despite my parents’ divorce, I really do… I do look up to my parents. I’m proud of the way they raised me. So yeah if I would be a good father… sometimes, but maybe that’s the age, kids frustrate me. I’m a leader in the scouts for the Welpen and Welpen -great guys- but they can also be annoying and say “I’m not participating” and “that’s a stupid game, can we do something else?” and I’m like “we invest so much time in this and so much preparation, please participate” so sometimes that bothers me. But I would prefer not to have just one (child). Certainly more than one because… are you an only child?

E: No I have a little brother.

W: Yeah only child… with all due respect to people who are only children but sometimes I think… for example, I’m very happy that I have a brother. Not that it wouldn’t be fun without a brother per se, but I don’t know, the contact I have with my brother is nice.

E: The thing is, you don’t know what you’re missing so it’s hard to miss it I guess. But I do think that my brother has been a great added value to my life.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: In the same way, I never really had grandparents. They all died before I was born and the grandfather I did have was quite old when I was actually aware that I had a grandfather. So I’ve never really had the grandparents experience that you see with family gatherings and stuff. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything but I still know how much other people benefit from having grandparents. Also what you just said about how often you call each other and stuff. I think that’s the same with being an only child. If you don’t have any brothers or sisters, you don’t know what it’s like to have that, what you’re missing. But if you do have it, it’s an added value I think.

W: Yes, exactly. No that’s true. My brother is very helpful to me now. I know that I can count on him.

E: Older or younger by the way?

W: Older.

E: A lot older?

W: 21.

E: 21.

W: Oh boy I had to think about how old my brother is. Embarrassing. Love you man. No but we had - maybe you had that too – but when we were younger, we really fought.

E: Physical?

W: Real fighting. Yeah, it’s has now gotten much better. I think we understand each other a lot better, but it used to be real… we had Catch WW on the Wii and we reenacted that on the couch so that was… “In the right corner Ramy Stereo” and we were bare-chested and both had one boxing glove on and fighting each other until one of us cried, bled or gave up. Usually it was me.

E: That’s just the fate of the little brother.

W: I always went… I’ve never admitted that actually, [whispers] it’s a confession. I’ve never admitted it, but afterwards I always went to my parents and cried “Kwinten hurt me”.

E: That’s really… that’s the moment, you feel it coming and you think “ah fuck no, if I hit again it’s probably over but I want to…” [cross-talk] “no no no don’t tell mom! Don’t tell mom!” I think I was a pretty nice big brother. We often did shit together. We were at home playing on the couch together and Olaf bumps into a large box that was standing there and the box, bigger than Olaf back then, fell down on his hand.

W: Oh shit.

E: So Olaf broke his hand. And I thought “I made him jump over those chairs” and then you have to say “sorry sorry don’t tell them, don’t tell them!” but yeah if your hand is fucking broken, you’re not gonna stop crying because your big brother says “don’t cry”. Yeah, that are…

W: Yes, but the relationship [between Willem and his brother] has improved. Okay we still have our discussions but... I think moments like when we’ve both been to a pub or something and we come home at the same time and we’re always hungry and standing in the kitchen making sandwiches. Those are great moments. I don’t necessarily need to have emotionally heavy of deep conversations with my brother to know that he’s there and that I can have a good time with him. So I think that’s the added value of having a brother or brothers in general.

E: Do you guys also have a specific sense of humor? Or like those moments when the two of you are laughing and your parents or people around you think “what the fuck is going on?”

W: Yeah we speak some slang to each other for fun. Like “stu stu” and [my slang knowledge is very limited so I have no idea what he’s saying here lol], those kinds of things. Typical slang from Brussels and Leuven. It’s funny because my parents are always like “why are you talking to each other like that?” and recently, I was leaving and my mom said “stu stu!” so they are adopting those words and then my brother and I can’t stop laughing.

E: Also if your mom suddenly says “are we going to chill later?” and I’m like [laughing] “what? Mom!”

W: “Okay??”

E: It’s kind of cute. Yeah it’s fun. And what are… I almost want to go deep like…

W: That’s okay.

E: Is there a particular interaction or experience you’ve had with your brother that sums up your relationship right now? Or are those the moments when you’re laughing and eating at night? It doesn’t have to be a super deep or emotional moment.

W: I think it’s an accumulation of those moments and emotional moments too. For example, after it was over with my ex. I was really down back then, it hit me pretty hard. Those are the moments when I can walk into my brother’s room in the middle of the night and he’s there for me. I know that dude is always going to be there when something’s wrong, no matter how much we argue or how much we shit at each other. I just know, and I hope he does too, that I can call him 24/7, walk into his room 24/7 and he will be there or ready to listen. I think that’s just something… the fact that we know that about each other, that creates that bond. And the thing is, if only he would do his best and go to work, earn real money… because we went on holiday together and he still hasn’t… he still has some work to do but we’ve already planned something. I’m really looking forward to it. We’re planning to go surfing in Portugal together. Those are moments I just know I can go somewhere with him and have the time of my life without-

E: …That you can remember for the rest of your life what you did together.

W: Yeah, absolutely. Those moments that I want to cherish or want to keep or experience.

E: My little brother is also just the most annoying dude on this planet who I love the most.

W: Exactly that combination. Annoying, but you love them.

E: Of course. The cameras are back on. That means we’ve been at it for over 50 minutes.

W: 50 minutes? It feels like we’re chatting for 20 minutes.

E: Exactly.

W: Pleasant.

E: That’s good. If it’s pleasant and the stress is gone.

W: Do you actually like me? “No I hate you. We’re going to finish. It has been good.”

55:29

E: No we’re not going to finish yet, but before we do, is there anything you’d like to send out into the world before we finish? On average there are 10 to 50 people watching. Is there anything you want to say to them?

W: To the 10 to 50 people?

E: Yes.

W: 10 to 50 people, you are awesome. No, what I’m saying… maybe a little deep but it doesn’t matter. Very often in your life you are going to encounter that you run into a wall, that you’re going to have setbacks, that you think “I don’t want to anymore, I can’t to this anymore, life is all one big shit show” but I think that there is a certain… at least I believe that – everyone has their own opinion of course- that a certain path has been mapped out for everyone. Not necessarily that things are set in stone but there is a road that you are going to take and that road is going to have curves, is going to have hills, is going to have valleys, is going to have everything. Maybe it’s a gravel path, maybe rocks you stumble over but -it sounds a bit stupid- put on your best walking shoes and just walk that path the best way you can. Just try to live life with complete joy and euphoria because you’re 100% worth it. No matter what other people say or think about your ideology or style or way of life. Everyone is entitled to it or should be given the opportunity to be appreciated for who they are. I think that’s something we do too little in this society, but yeah.

E: Just don’t be too hard on yourself in the end?

W: Yeah, don’t be too hard on yourself. A lot of people blame themselves too much. Or “oh I’m like that and I don’t fit in because of that” or something. Then I think: so be it.

E: Do you sometimes feel that you should do more or have achieved more at this age? Of course you’re already doing a lot of cool shit but social media, I know there is a highlight reel of all people’s achievements and that sometimes it’s very difficult to filter between what is real and how much is that person actually sitting on the couch doing nothing. Do you sometimes feel that because of social media of because of your environment or I don’t know, that you’re not doing enough?

W: Gosh, sometimes I think my life is too full.

E: Too full?

W: Not that I’m saying “oh I have so many things to do” but I’m like... I’m letting that grow organically or so.

E: Not putting too much pressure on yourself?

W: Not putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m doing a course now that I’d like to finish because I’ve had those two projects and there are friends of mine who say “why are you still studying? You’ve had your opportunity, you’re going to get new opportunities right?” and I say “hey! I’m also only 19”. Sometimes I think “fuck Willem you should have achieved more already” but I also think I’m only 19. There was a conversation at school… I really think that’s one of the added values of the course. We receive an observation report twice a year, 5 pages where the teacher writes about you and how they see you, what they think about you, what your qualities are, what you still need to work on. It’s always spot on. So strange how they can just see right through you, even though I sometimes try to hide it. Yeah, where was I going with this… we had subsequent conversation about it and I said to my teacher “sometimes I feel like I’m too young for this course” that I have too little life experience. There are people in my class who are in their 20s or older, who have already studied something else before this, have read a lot more, seen a lot more than me, a lot more experience and I think “fuck, I don’t have anything”. People talk about certain topics and I don’t follow at all. I mentioned that I felt too young and she [the teacher] said “you’re young, but that also has its advantages. Your youthfulness can actually be an interesting tool in this course and look at it from a different perspective”. So I’m convinced: don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t think “whew, I’m already 20 and I haven’t achieved anything yet” so to speak. I even saw a video recently where… “if you don’t make it in your 20s, you might make it in your 30s and if you don’t make it in your 30s, you might make it in your 40s”. There are so many… there really are a lot of people… people often forget that there are people who only find out what they want to do or discover their passion later in life.

E: And also just… I think it’s so ridiculous that you set certain goals for a certain age or something. That it’s so expected that by 18 you must have completed high school and by 25 you must have had your first job interview, by 28/30 you must have a house and a serious relationship where you’re committed to for the rest of your life and by 40 you must have already had a promotion, that you can provide for yourself and fix your pension. All those fucking predetermined milestones. I think that’s kind of bullshit, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If that were the case, then I should graduate in a few years so to speak while I’m clearly not studying here because I have – fuck normally I have a re-exam today. And here we are.

W: Here we are.

E: I knew I was doing this but I mean that’s just… there’s so much time. I’m 22 now and I’m doing some shit, if I go nuts now or people don’t want to listen to this podcast anymore, don’t want to see what I do online, okay then I have to look elsewhere. But I did this and I went for it and I tried. I’m 22. Even if I go nuts now and it’s all gone, I’m only 22. There are still so many ways it could go. A lot of people don’t have a job at 22. If I started looking for a new job or something now, hopefully I’ll have one by 25. Then it’s still okay because I’m only 25. I don’t know, I always find that… I could go on for a long time about this. I think those predetermined milestones/goals of things that you must have achieved by a certain age, I just think it’s bullshit.

W: I sometimes make the comparison that people too often see life as the sports world. Football players who are good until 35 and then they are done. As if you must have already performed before that age. That’s not how it works. You really have all the time and you really don’t have to stress. I also notice that many people… you mentioned re-exams. That people say “fuck I have re-exams, oh no I’m not going to pass, oh no you have extra…” chill. You do your best, but suppose you have to repeat a year, that’s not a disaster either, is it?

E: What I also think is crazy is how many people have studied law and you eventually hear that they ended up in a marketing agency because they found it much more interesting. When I talk to some people who… I was seeing a social media manager recently [laughs] “seeing”, I was talking to him.

W: “seeing” okay [laughs].

E: I was talking to him.

W: [joking] Ender has something to say.

E: And I asked “what did you study?” and he said biochemistry. “How the fuck did you end up here?” Him: “uh yeah that just wasn’t the right fit for me. I have a master’s degree but I started working here because I found it much more interesting”. I thought: why am I pretending that the degree I’m trying to get is going to determine the rest of my life, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If there are so many people now… because he was only 28 or something. So I thought “aah okay so you’ve been studying biochemistry for so many years and now you’re here – I don’t know if I’m talking about the correct position – but now you’re just sitting here making content. Cool. But why do I attach so much importance to that one direction I’m studying right now that doesn’t even have anything to do with media or anything. I mean I’m very interested in media, I’m studying economics. Which is also interesting, but that’s not what I see myself doing in the coming years.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: Anyway enough about me. Do you think you could win in a fight against a cow?

W: [laughs] I really like that. You can switch to totally different shit like that. Like before you suddenly asked what color fish do you want to be. Okay. That’s nice. Win… I’ve heard if you knock over a cow it dies. That it has a heart attack then. We don’t want to kill cows okay!

E: And purely hypothetical, you’re just standing in a kind of meadow so it’s not super big so you can’t go in all directions. There is a limited domain. You come face to face with that cow and you have to begin. No weapons. You’re standing there and the cow stands there and you both know you’re going to fight.

W: It knows that too?

E: It knows that too.

W: [makes mooing noises] okay ca va.

E: It’s not a bull but it does have horns so in fact it would-

W: I would shit my pants. I’d give up already. I would lie on the ground, come on. Really crazy, I saw Jackass recently. Those guys, that Wee Man, who was in that link with the bull and he’s being catapulted, so to speak.

E: I don’t understand how those guys aren’t all dead yet.

W: Yeah they are really crazy.

E: There was also a rumor that Wee Man died from a bowling ball during… but apparently that wasn’t true.

W: I don’t know.

E: Fucked up shit. Would you win against a cow?

W: Would I win against a cow? No, I wouldn’t win against a cow. I don’t think I would win against a cow.

E: I think I would. I think just like with a bull I would try to jump out of the way like that and once you’re on the side it’s just a matter of pushing. If what you said is true, it’s game over when it’s down and you know, that’s your tactic.

W: But the thing is, a cow is heavy, isn’t it?

E: True.

W: You can’t just push it over like that, can you?

E: Sure, but it’s a matter of life or death, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush. You have to image, a cow just comes running towards you. The adrenaline that goes through your body. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you have then.

W: Just find the best patch of grass and when it’s there, sneaky knife in the back. No, now people are going to think I’m that kind of person.

E: That you’re just a snake.

W: Snake. Definitely and I admit it. No, that would be fucked up.

E: I’m going to do one more thing that’s important. I’m going to find a Twitter shout out and in the meantime, I already asked you what your message is to the world and that was a beautiful message. Got something more banal that you’d like to share? Something that you want to share from your social media or something?

W: What do you mean from social media?

E: Where they can follow you. You can say something if you have a really good video that you want to share. “Check me everywhere”.

W: No I don’t have… people should do what they feel like doing. Do you think I’m cool, do you think I’m fun, follow me on Insta. No really doesn’t matter. Doesn’t really matter.

E: Alright, I’m just going to scroll and you say stop. I’ll go back and forth and you have to say “yes that’s the one who gets to have this week’s shout out”.

W: Exciting huh. Stop.

E: [reads twitter account] M. Verschuren.

W: M. Verscheure.

E: Is that…

W: [reads quote] “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”.

E: Wow. Damn bro.

W: I’m going to edit my quote.

E: “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”. Wow. If you didn’t have shitty days, you wouldn’t know what the best days of your life were.

W: Exactly. But what if you get stuck in your shitty days for the rest of your life?

E: That won’t happen. That’s my biggest fear.

W: Me too.

E: Looking back at your life and thinking-

W: …Fuck I’ve never been there again.

E: …That’s where I peeked. Hope that doesn’t happen. Anyway M. Verscheure thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it. You as well, I think?

W: Absolutely, absolutely. How much were you going to pay me?

E: 50 euro.

W: Then I’ll come… awesome. Super cool.

E: Thank you so much to everyone who listened. I appreciate it. If you want to hear more you can always subscribe to this channel. It’s also good for my ego. I’ll just put your Instagram link in the description, for people who are interested. Okay, that was it.

W: Thanks, it was fun.

E: There’s an audio only episode on Spotify every Sunday and the video comes out on Monday. That’s it. See you next Monday. Or Sunday. Peace.

[missblissy]

PLS alastor x chubbyish reader who only wears baggy clothes like MENS 4XL AND HUGE/LONG SHORTS and then finally puts on something tight like a dress -like his reaction SORRY FOR IT BEING SO LONG AND SPECIFIC

(( Of course my friend!! And no worries. IM SOrRY FOr The WAIt---...... I am but a simple lad. The drafts man.... I don't get along with them and they don't get along with me. AGAIN SORRY FOR THE WAIT WEEPS. I also hope you don't mind I did a modern!au...? QwQ I just-.... I just saw such a cute idea in my head.... ANYWAYS. I hope u enjoy!))

You chewed at your bottom lip as you thought it over again. Was this a good idea? You saw yourself in the mirror and slowly turned to the side a little. I don't know... Is this a good look for me? You picked up the hem of the dress and pulled it up a little. For a second to long you saw your theighs and looked away quickly. The dress was much different than the typical outfit you enjoyed. Baggy clothes no more, a dress found a snug but almost perfect fit. Something about it felt to tight, making certain parts of your skin to appear more pressed and chubby. It did show that you had some curves but nothing to gloat about.

It was red. Your idea. Well... the dress and everything was your idea too. You wanted to look nice, or nicer than you normally dressed. You were a comfort over pain person. Sweat pants were a must-have, large shirts, oversized hoodies? Constantly. It was just far more comfortable that way. Why would anyone want to spend all day in a pair of tight jeans riding up in places nothing should ever go? It didn't make sense, and honestly, it also just made you feel a little better to hide behind such baggy clothes sometimes.

You leaned over the sink and fixed your hair. You felt far more nervous than you should be. Maybe it was because he was waiting outside the bathroom, in your bedroom. Alastor took his time enjoying a book though, he wasn't in that much of a hurry. A lazy smile rested on his face as he looked at the clock on the dresser in front of him. He sat on the edge of your shared bed and took in a slow breath, "It's almost seven, dear, we'll have to leave soon." He casually said as he flipped a page of his book.

From within the bathroom, you took yet another look at yourself, "Okay!" You said quickly. The dress wasn't over the top or anything. It kind of looked like a simple high waist, shirt dress. Tight on the top with a button-down and a little fit bow tucked within the collar, similar to a vintage dress from the 50s. You enjoyed the skirt wasn't as tight as the shirt, but it was still fitted even if it fanned out.

You had to turn away from the mirror or you'd get stuck there again for another twenty minutes. You put your hand on the doorknob then paused. You had only been dating Alastor for about two months. So far he found your casual choice of clothes cute. He didn't seem to care what you wore at the end of the day. And honestly, he didn't know what to expect when you came out of the bathroom. He only wore what he typically wore... But that's also because he was a "public figure" who ran a "respectable" podcast. So he didn't have to change much. Still, the same button-down shirt, tucked into his dark dress pants. There was no sweater vest or bowtie, but instead just a regular black tie. However, up until now, Alastor had never seen you in a dress before.

Alastor never asked you to dinner at a restaurant that had a dress code either. Normally the dates were left to late-night fast food runs because you got out of work late. Not this time though. You also couldn't imagine the embarrassment of being caught at a classy restaurant in a hoodie and shorts... Yeah. No thanks. You'd rather not.

After staring at the door for five minutes you snapped out of your trance-like thoughts and twisted the doorknob. You quickly stepped out of the bathroom and stood halfway between the bed and the door. At first, Alastor didn't even look up from his book. He gave you a glance for a second then quickly took a second look and stared at you.

He slapped the book closed with one hand and set it down beside him, "Well, look at that," He smiled at you. You felt your cheeks burn under his gaze, "Go on, do a spin," He twirled a finger quickly.

You felt a smile climb onto your lips as you did a stupid little giggle and lifted your arms with a spin. The little clap he did only made you chuckle more, "Stop it," You rolled your eyes, only teasing him.

Alastor pushed himself off the bed and just as you spun back to face him, he snacked an arm around your waist and used his free hand to grab your own. And suddenly the two of you were dancing. He side-stepped with a quick waltz, making it easy for you to follow him. He hummed a pretty tune and whisked you away.

Little did he pay mind to your big doe eyes and blushing face. He had his eyes closed as if this was just second nature and he didn't even have to think about doing it. Pressed against his chest you could smell the sweet scent of roses mixed with a warm piney cologne. Alastor stopped short and gave you a little spin. The skirt of your dress waved slightly as you left the closeness of Alastor. You held onto his hand as he looked you over.

Alastor quickly pulled you back to him, "You look very lovely, dear," He was only a few inches away from your face. The warmth of his smile bleed into his brown eyes as he brushed his nose against yours, "Utterly stunning, quite literally the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." Oh well, now he was just being over the top. You let out a little hiccup a giggle but it was stifled by the swift kiss that Alastor stole from your lips.

When he pulled away you were left slightly dazed and sad that the kiss was over so soon. But Alastor kept you in his arms as he said, "Maybe we should just stay home," He grinned at you, "I don't know if I care to share you with anyone else-"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away with a cheeky smirk of your own. Sometimes he was so full of himself, at least he did it in a way that could make you laugh, "Come on," You gave him a light pat on the chest, "We're gonna be late," You walked past him and grabbed your coat off the dress. Alastor remained there with his grin growing larger. His eyes roamed over your body as you walked past. He took in every angle he could get before following after you and closing the door behind him.

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

[adorethedistance]

READING MY BOYFRIEND’S FANFICTION?? - Owen Joyner x Influencer!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: OMGGG!! Could you do a an Owen fic based around his girlfriend being an armature youtuber/social media influencer (shes also an actress and they met on set and have been dating for a while) and it’s “reading/reacting to my boyfriend’s fanfiction” ? You can do whatever you want with the fanfic part it’s just a concept that has been running around in my head for a while. LOVE ALL YOUR WORK!!

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, very mild

Words: 1460

A/N: A fic?? From Ace?? Hi. I’m off spring break officially and so my stress has dissipated immensely. School was becoming so much these last two weeks and I thought I’d be stressed or worried, but I’m actually fine? It’s weird lol so I decided I could be productive with my stress-free moment and post a little fic for y’all. I love this prompt, and before any of you writers panic, I’m using my own fics for the fanfictions because I wouldn’t want to put y’all on the spot like that. Also this is my 3000 post! thought that was cool lol

“Do you wanna do the intro?”

“I think I have to do the intro.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out a heavy breath in exaggerated preparation for my (some would say lengthy) intro. “Hello, hi. Yes, okay, this is Y/n Y/l/n vlogs, welcome or welcome back to my channel!” Once Owen finishes his statement I’m so stunned I can’t generate any sort of response other than a slacked jaw semi smile.

“That was not even close. Do you know my intro?”

“I got the first part right!”

“You’ve lost intro privileges,” I turn back to the mess of lights and tripods in front of me and ignore the disaster of an intro Owen offered. “Oh, hello, hi! I am Y/n and this is: Reading My Boyfriend’s Fanfiction!”

“That’s basically what I did.”

“No, it is not! It’s ‘oh, hello, hi. I am ‘name’ and this is: ‘title of video’.”

“You don’t ‘welcome to my channel’?” Owen’s voice has dropped to a hushed volume as he genuinely inquires about the segments of my usual introduction.

“I do not.”

“Don’t use any of this,” he pleads when making direct eye contact with the camera. “Mister Sid. Editing Sid, please don’t embarrass me.” His pleas fall on deaf ears, knowing that I’ll be using the footage in full.

“Anyways. Butchered intro aside, I am Y/n and today I am here with my lovely “So Many Stars” costar and scene partner, Owen Joyner!”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“That too,” I give Owen’s pointed comment a soft place to land, “So, yesterday--it was actually like, two weeks ago, I don’t know why I said yesterday--a little while back, I came across a tweet telling me someone had written a fanfic about us-”

“Did you read it?”

“On Wattpad. Of course, I read it. There are only three chapters up right now and they’re all in the 2-3k range so it was a quick read.”

“2-3k?”

“Words,” I reply nonchalantly as I unlock my phone. I bookmarked a few one-shots beforehand for us to read, and I’m slightly cocky about my selections. Owen then responds with an outburst of shock.

“2-3 thousand words is a short read?” I merely give him a blank stare.

“Judging by that reaction, Owen hasn’t read any fanfics in his life.”

“Is that not long to you- That’s what she said.” Owen cuts me off with his own stupid joke and I briefly sigh before answering.

“No, that isn’t long. Baby, I’m here for that 130k slow burn enemies to lovers on AO3 with the ‘only one bed’ and ‘locked in a closet’ tropes.”

“The what?”

“Oh, we have so much to catch you up on.”

__________________________

“So I saved three fics, an angst, a fluff, and a smut. Which do you want to read?”

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“Oh my- okay. Angst is the sad shit, it’s what you read when you need your heartbroken and a good cry. Smut is pretty much in the name, it’s explicit content that will undoubtedly get this video demonetized, but that’s okay because we do have a sponsor. And fluff is the cute moments, domestic and sometimes mundane romance that makes you smile like an idiot and put the device down to screech into a pillow.” Throughout my whole explanation, I can tell Owen was becoming more and more lost, so I opt to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s start with the fluff just to ease into things.”

“Smart choice. This fic I have saved is called ‘Baby Fever’ and the summary says ‘you and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own’.”

“That sounds so ominous.”

“Here, I’ll read the narration and reader’s POV, and then you’ll read your own dialogue.” Owen nods and leans over my right shoulder to read off of my computer screen.

“You actually start the fic.”

“‘You ready, little one?’” The instantaneous actor mode Owen slips into has me howling with laughter at which he looks at me confused. My gasping for air makes Owen laugh empathetically despite still being unsure as to what’s killing me at the moment.

“Why are you laughing?!” He yells, dramatically shaking my shoulder.

“Just the way you jumped into that, I wasn’t prepared for you to turn on the acting charm. Okay, uhhhh, ‘I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat’.”

The two of us go back and forth between reading the narrative, bouts of laughter, commentary on the accuracy of Owen’s character, and we finally manage to finish the 2.5k fic in about forty minutes.

“‘When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple-’.”

“‘I told you so.’”

“That was cute! I like the tie-in of having us watching over Baby Shada- or, sorry, you and ‘y/n’ watching over Baby Shada.”

“They wrote me kinda funny, I don’t think I’d ever fabricate a life to make conversation with a stranger due to baby fever.” My jaw drops slightly and before Owen can respond to my reaction, I cry,

“That is such a lie!”

“What?”

“You absolutely would do something like that, are you kidding me?!”

“No, I would not!” Owen punctuates every word with the utmost offense. He has the same look in his eye as when he was proving himself to be the cleanest phantom of the three on the Sunset Drive podcast.

“You literally told the guy at Home Depot yesterday that we were buying plants for our child’s nursery!”

“Okay, that’s different-”

“How is that different? That’s the exact same thing as fanfic you!” Owen’s furrowed brow and dropped jaw are a sight to be seen as he leans away from me, bending at the waist to stare at me with defiance. I raise my eyebrows pointedly as I await a response. Instead of actually producing a response, Owen lunges forward, grabbing my waist in his hands and squeezing gently. The feeling makes me screech and gasp of laughter from surprise and also being ticklish.

“Owen! Owe-STOP, I’m gonna drop my laptop!” I manage to say through my laughter and with one final grab, he releases me from his hold. It takes a minute for my laughter to settle but once I do, the two of us are simply breathing heavy and staring at one another with giddy smiles on our faces. In a moment’s clarity, I turn to look into the camera lens to talk directly to my editor,

“Sid, don’t use any of this. And please don’t cut to this after we finish reading to make it look like- things were happening.”

“Actually, I think you should, Sid. Just cut to right there and make the world think we-”

“OKAY, thanks for watching, bye!” I quickly stop the recording before Owen says something we’re unable to recover from. I hear him laugh gently behind me as I set my laptop down on the coffee table behind the tripod. Coming back to the couch, I move to plop down but before landing successfully on the cushion next to my phone, Owen grabs my body and moves me to sit on top of him.

“You are crazy, you know that?”

“Hmm. Crazy for you, maybe.” His cheesy line makes me scoff but smile nonetheless. I reach my right hand up to caress the side of his face as we sit cheek to cheek.

“Remind me to never film with you again.” The gesture is sweet and the sentiment is not which makes Owen laugh and he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. I lean back into him so my back is pressed flush with his chest as he lazily wraps both arms around me.

“You say that now but you’ll regret it when you wanna do a ‘boyfriend does my makeup’ challenge video.”

“Nah. I’ll just call Charlie to-” Without allowing me to finish my sentence, Owen is digging his fingertips back into the tissue of my sides and I squeal with laughter once more. This time the torment is short-lived and Owen releases me after a sweet, reconciling kiss. “Do you have baby fever now?”

“It was cute and all, but not really, no.”

“That’s too bad,” I stand up from my spot on his lap to grab my computer and hold it to my chest, “I was gonna say we could practice some baby-making.”

And with that, I turned on the balls of my feet, heading for my bedroom when I heard Owen stand up eagerly, quick to follow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell@n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki@vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

[aceofspadegrass]

Good Old Drama and Gossip

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Morizono Aguni (Mentioned), Chishiya Shuntaro (mentioned), Last Boss (Briefly Mentioned), and me

Genre: Crack. This time it's just blind!Niragi being fussy and me stealing Aguni in the background

1.5k words

Part 3 of being a little shit to Hatter and getting away with it. But hey, at least there's the added bonus of Niragi being dramatic while being able to see nothing. A shame I didn't arm him with a cane and let him smack people.

Hatter was going to get them this time, he swears on it. It’s been more than a week since they last struck, and as far as he knew, there was not a single invasion into his Beach. He was always on alert, just in case something happened. It didn’t get in the way of his primary duty to his people, but the thought never left him to make sure everything he owned was in place.

Checking for any of the other’s stuff wasn’t anything Hatter worried about, thankfully. For some odd reason he could only interpret as ‘being too handsome and irresistible for his own good’ only his stuff was ever snatched like a cookie in the elusive cookie jar. He didn’t want to develop more stress lines making sure his men were okay in their personal possessions. Wrinkles shall only come to accentuate him, make him look good, not just tired and old.

That privilege can go to Aguni.

The man in question was at the very least rocking it, made him look fierce. Hatter could appreciate that in him, and it makes his job easier in subduing the more…. rambunctious of their group.

In fact, one of Aguni’s more problematic men, Niragi, had come back to a game with bad eye issues, even more worse than the appointed med staff could figure out. Apparently the game the oversaturated oil stain was in broke his eyes to the point where he couldn’t use them for a good while. In short, Niragi was left completely blind, and Aguni now had to deal with an increasingly whiny and temper hearty baked bean burrito. Hatter found it funny, but oh boy was it wearing out his poor fried dumpling.

It also left quite a hole in the defense for the intruders, so the issue of Aguni and Niragi was also an issue for the safety of the Beach (and Hatter’s stuff) as a whole.

No point thinking about this now. Hatter leans back on the sofa, sipping at a cold blend of juices and relaxing. His feet were killing him right about now, Hatter flexing his stiff toes and internally begging for a good pedicure to fly in through the doors and give his feet a touch of heaven and bliss.

The door in fact does fly open as the thought passes his head, Hatter sitting up and raising an eyebrow as Niragi stands there, breathing heavily. The sunglasses Hatter has so graciously offered to him in order to make him both sexier and protect his eyes from the sunlight so he didn’t permanently damage them further was slipping slightly off his face, Niragi fixing them after a few more pants.

“ You…..! You fucking coconut slut!” Niragi rasps out, and Hatter quirks his eyebrow in mild amusement, leaning forward and sipping his juice quietly as one arm rested on his knee. Niragi points a finger in Hatter’s direction, if Hatter was 45 degrees to the left and standing. “ You fucking left me tied on that bed for an hour! What fucking gives!”

Hatter says nothing, as Niragi storms in….. and immediately slams into the back of the other couch, Hatter bursting into laughter. Niragi on the other hand starts spouting obscenities and kicks the couch, and the red cocktail man notices the lack of real gun in Niragi’s possession, other than the super soaker that was substituted. Aguni probably replaced it, knowing that a blind trigger happy man was a danger to society and himself.

“ What the fuck is this bull?! What- Oh for fucks sakes this isn’t Chishiya’s room is it.” Niragi finally sputters out, grabbing the top edge of the couch and massaging the soft cushions underneath his long fingers.

“ Oh, I wish I was. Now what was this about being tied to a bed, hm?” Hatter croons, which earns him a hearty middle finger.

“ Like heck am I about to tell you. Okay, let’s try this again-“ Niragi turns around, but Hatter whistles at him, Niragi slowly spinning back around to face Hatter’s general position. “ What is it, I don’t have all day lobster man.”

“ Aww, not even a minute? Well, it’s just a question. Aren’t you supposed to be accompanied until you regain your senses? After all, you have nothing to guide your way.”

“ Fuck that, I don’t know where Last Boss went and he won’t fucking speak up if he’s just been following me like a sneaky little bitch this entire time, and Aguni was called away for something!”

“ Oh?” Hatter leans back again, Niragi throwing his arms up in the air as he starts pacing and nearly running into stuff again.

“ Yeah! So then that tiny mozzarella cheese ball came and said he’d help because I just look sad and stupid wandering around by myself, which I don’t believe because I know he’d push me into the pool the first chance he got, and then suddenly I’m tied to a bed as he puts on a podcast of nothing but some random guy talking about wool! It was hell!”

“ Oooh, I see. How bad was it?”

“ Fucking terrible! I did not need a wool lecture, thank you very little! Who the fuck wants to know the fastest record to shear a sheep was 39 seconds!? Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” Niragi rants, Hatter nodding and grinning as he switches his juice out for the good wine he kept by his foot the entire time, pouring himself a decent amount and taking a slow sip as Niragi continued to rant onwards. At some point Niragi managed to find the couch again (because he stubbed his toe into it, leading to an extra twenty seconds of Niragi cursing out Hatter’s poor couch) and sat down, Hatter pushing a wine glass into Niragi’s hand and filling it. Niragi downed it like he was a war orphan waiting for his arm to be donated to the war effort, Hatter lightly tsking him for not savouring it properly.

It wasn’t Aguni or any of the girls, but Hatter could appreciate the gossip as Niragi continued without a filter in his mouth, the rant going from Chishiya’s wool podcast to anything else Niragi had heard in his blind boredom. He was impressed how much information Niragi was willing to dole out just to get his anger settled for the rest of the day, and Hatter was happily sipping away as he absorbed it all.

Finally Niragi had calmed down, just nursing the wine glass that Hatter just filled with chocolate cereal instead, as Niragi refused to drink his wine like it was good wine. It was a shame really, Hatter liked hearing about Niragi’s auditory bubble day.

“ Well wasn’t that cathartic!” Hatter chirped as Niragi mumbled around his glass of chocolate cereal, draped over the entire couch as if he wanted to become the couch lord. Or wanting to be painted like the best model in the world, whatever he wanted.

“ Yeah yeah, whatever.” Niragi tips cereal into his mouth just as the crackle of his walkie-talkie alerts him and Hatter. Niragi doesn’t bother to remove the device from his side, too busy eating his cereal as a voice comes through.

And oh boy, what a voice it was, Hatter tuning into it immediately.

“ ….. Testing, testing! Are you hearing me? Hi hi, it’s me, your local menace~ The one with the robe, remember me? Yeah! Hi, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just gonna….. borrow Mr. Beef Stew with extra beef for a few hours! For personal, very important reasons and definitely not because I got a replica statue of a cute dog stuck in a window and now I can’t get it out. Anyways, bye!” The rest becomes static as it disconnects, Niragi snorting a little as Hatter takes one deep breath.

“ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Niragi, hand it over to me.”

“ You’re not my boss.” “ Yes, but I’m Aguni’s, so hand it over.”

Niragi grumbles, unclipping the walkie-talkie and tossing it in Hatter’s general direction, Hatter humming and pressing the button on the side.

“ Hello? Are you still there, you rascal?” Hatter leans in, pouring as much honey into his voice to lure them out.

“… Yep, still here! Hi, didn’t think you’d be there too Hatter.” “ Oh, I’m here, and I would like to kindly know where you and your little friends are. As a little house visit~” There was a chuckle on the other end. “ Oh, sorry sorry, but I can’t. We can always come over and visit though, even if it’s for a brief moment!” “ Is that so…. Well, you wound me so, you know!” Hatter puts a hand on his chest. “ For you to not even offer me the same respect, ah it hits me right here that you can’t even trust me~”

“ Sorry! Anyways, gotta go, got things to do, got stuff to move with Aguni, who was nice enough to help us.”

“ At your base? Well, what’s stopping me from asking him for directions later for a surprise visit one of these days, maybe have a meet and greet with my beloved stolen items?”

“ Not anywhere near our base, we’re not that dumb my dear red bean paste~ Don’t worry, we’ll return your man in….. 3-5 business days maybe okay byeeeeeeeee-“ The line goes completely dead, and Hatter stares at the black box.

Those cursed beings, they’ve gone too far. Too far.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Okay, so I finished listening to The Bugle yesterday (John Oliver era only, I realize I haven’t finished listening to all the episodes yet, and I know that at some point in the hopefully somewhat near future I’ll start on the post-Oliver era and then I’ll say, “This is so good, I should have just started it earlier, I know that Nish Kumar is the eighth wonder of the world so why did I put this off?”), and to ease the painful transition from listening to that show during every second of free time I have for almost three months to... not that anymore, I am sitting here and drinking whiskey and listening to clips that I cut out and saved during my initial listening. I am sort of kidding when I refer to finishing a podcast as a “painful transition”, but not as kidding as I should be. In my defense, that painfulness is mostly about projecting issues from real life onto it, and that seems less bad. I mean, it’s more reasonable to be sad about real life than about the fact that some people I’ll never meet decided to work on a creative project together for eight years but then had the audacity to not continue it forever.

Tonight I got out of the house and coached a practice and it went so much better than I’d feared, and it’s a sign that maybe the good things in life can be recaptured with a little effort, and some baby steps. And possibly some whiskey, to ease the painful transitions (obligatory disclaimer that I’m saying this flippantly and I do love whiskey but I also don’t want to promote it too much on this site full of teenagers, don’t drink alcohol kids, or if you do, do it responsibly, I love this site but so many people on it are children and I do not want to make a post about my life that accidentally advocates the benefits of alcohol to children). Anyway, tonight reminded me of how special a good sporting moment can be, how many hundreds and thousands of hours of effort and care and passion goes into creating what are comparatively just the few moments of high-level competition that the world sees. 

So I am sitting here, drinking whiskey and re-listening to clips I’d saved from The Bugle, and I remembered how good this one was. Andy is so very right, I don’t know how many times I have sat in tournaments and thought “Why are they playing music right now? Who is this for? The athletes and coaches find it distracting. The spectators who are invested enough to understand what’s happening and care find it annoying because it’s introducing something artificial to paper over their genuinely exciting moment. Why does this tournament have to cater to, I don’t know, the spectators who don’t really understand and just got dragged along? Who wants this?” And that’s how I felt back when I was younger and only ever heard tournament music that was set up by someone else. In the last few pre-COVID years, my team got big and successful enough to start winning tournament bids and had to actually run some of those, and of course my anti-anything-flashy stance gets outvoted by other people from my team who say of course it’s stupid to have this stuff but if we get a sound system then the tournament will probably be more appealing to spectators and make more money, and then I have to sit through that and get mad about it while knowing I was involved in making it happen. And then I have to not only get annoyed about the music, but also be concerned that, to put it the way Andy Zaltzman astutely did, I may at any point get a call from my parents telling me they don’t love me anymore because of what I’d done to the sport.

I think part of why I love this clip so much is that, very weirdly, it’s some of the only genuine feeling we get out of Andy Zaltzman. On The Bugle, both guys joke a lot about how they deal entirely in irony and are allergic to sincerity. But of the two of them, John Oliver is much quicker to react emotionally to a tough news story. He’ll react by making dark jokes and saying sarcastic things, there’s definitely still irony in there. But it’s very easy to hear the genuine emotions that underpin those reactions, that the closer a look he gets at American and other politics, the more they break him.

We rarely hear that from Andy. I know he’s upset by the fucked up things in the news, because he’s very informed about them, and he’s clearly an intelligent and good person. And you can’t have all three of those things - informed about the news, intelligent enough to understand it, and a morally decent person - and not be personally upset by it. But Andy very rarely brings that into his comedy, he can talk about the news on a podcast without the same undercurrent of anger and despair that we can hear from John.

The above clip stuck out to me because weirdly, it is an exception to that. Andy is making jokes in that clip, but they are very clearly real emotions underpinning those jokes. Emotions called: Genuinely fucking angry at the people who messed up his much-anticipated experience at the London 2012 Olympics with their shitty music. You can hear, in all the jokes he makes, that they come from a place of actually feeling something and sitting down to write about it.

Again, I know Andy feels anger and sadness and all the other normal emotions about the actual news. But when he writes jokes about the actual news, they’re so very dry that the audience rarely hears that. But play pop music over the Olympics, and that’s when Andy Zaltzman becomes so truly enraged that he can’t keep it out of his writing. He called attention to that a few times during the Olympic-era Bugle episodes, admitting that because sports are “pretend”, he found it easier to express emotion those than about anything real. Which is, you know, very fucking relatable. John Oliver has a bit in his stand-up DVD Terrifying Times about how he’s so jaded and cynical that he doesn’t feel the positive emotions that he’s supposed to about anything anymore (please note that this DVD came out in 2008 - just wait until it gets worse, Oliver), he no longer feels the spirit of whatever dramatic or feel-good things people throw at him, but will still cry at an appropriately heroic moment in a sports movie. That joke made me laugh so much, because again, relatable.

This is just a really good clip. I hope the IOC puts Andy Zaltzman in charge of directing all future Olympic events someday.

[pbandjesse]

It was absolutely beautiful out today. And I felt a lot better. Like not perfect, but a lot better.

I slept fine. I keep ending up half off the end of the bed and don't know why. But it was fine.

I woke up at 650. And it was dark outside. Which was much better then being to bright. It took me a little to shake off the sleepies. But I got up and washed my face and felt pretty good.

James made the bed and had packed me lunch. They told me they would keep painting today and would finish up the white wall. I was excited to see that.

I was pretty upset when I got in my studio and saw that my fish Ari was dead. I was trying to not be to weepy but like. He was doing good!! And he was alive and eating last night! And now he's gone. Like I feel lucky I was able to get him well after being sick in January. I got a whole month extra with him. But I am still really sad. James would wrap him in a paper towel. I decided I would bury him at camp.

I had a nice drive. I would keep listening to my podcast. It would be a nice thing to have for the next hour or so.

When I got to camp I would get a spoon from the office and go and bury Ari right away. I dig a little hole under the totem pole. And told him I loved him. I hope he has a good life. He was a beautiful fish.

After being sad for a little l, I had my breakfast and started working on sending emails. I finished making the schedules for two of my groups. And started working on measuring out the yarn for my knitting.

I would take a walk over to the lodge to put away the tables and chairs. I saw that there was the whole group of turkey vultures again. They were really cool to see.

It would take me a while to get all the tables and chairs out back. And I would head back to the office and catch up on my knitting.

Sarah came in just as my podcast was finishing. We talked about the muffins she brought to share. Which were chocolate and I was excited to have one. She would also tell me the list of things they left us to do this week while everyone else is at a camp conference. I hope they are having fun.

Once I was done my knitting I would go to the hacienda to take down the old string lights. Sarah was surprised because it was tall and s difficult task. But I brought pliers and would climb up on the railing to get them down. Sarah said she would look out the window periodically to make sure I didn't continue the family legacy of falling off roofs. But I did not fall. I did get cut by the wire when the string lights were falling apart from being out in the weather. But I got them all down and thrown away.

I was listening to a YouTube video about fundamental deconstruction and how Christian fundamentalists make marriage sound terrible. And this one couple was laughing and talking about how hard being married was and the husband starts saying he thinks about killing himself rather then be married anymore but they are both still laughing and smiling! It was crazy! And so sad.

This lead me to tell Sarah all about the weird sex Ed and talks we went through at my school. All the allegories/examples (food dye in a water bottle, tape, gum) of your soul. The examples we were given about being a wife. It is like. Very dark to think about. I am glad being married for real is so much nicer and also easier. People who say being married is the hardest thing theyve ever done are stupid. Loving James is easy.

I would spend a lot of time doing research today. Some about wall paper. Some about projects. More emails.

Sarah went for a walk. And I answered some emails. I even answered the phone! And was able to actually be helpful!

The afternoon would have me driving the gator around to pick up the old archery targets. I also moved the pig target. But I love him so I just moved him to the art building. At least until we know where he will live.

The weather was beautiful at this point. Just perfectly warm with a little breeze. I would drive the gator around a little longer. Saw a door of a cabin was open so I went to close that. And eventually ended up back at the office.

After taking a little break I took a walk to get one of the signs we forgot from the open house. I stopped at the fort first to get the broken light bulb out of the outside light. And headed down to nature to see if there were any feathers from the vultures. And ended up having a really nice talk to Joe about changes at camp and the glitter conspiracy theory and I really like Joe so it's really nice to get to have long chats with him.

We would stand around and talk for a long while. But eventually my hands hurt from holding the signs so I said goodbye and went back to the office.

When I got back there I remembered Elizabeth wanted me to make a PowerPoint slideshow of wedding photos. Can do. We have a lot more photos of those so I did not get it finished by 330. But I got to a good spot and I'll finish it tomorrow.

I got myself together and soon would say goodbye to Sarah. I had to backtrack because I forgot my laptop. But then I was done and ready to go.

I decided I needed to listen to music to scream to and had a really excellent drive home. Just a full music video staring myself. It was so fun. And I got home at 415. Where I was thrilled to see James. They were almost done painting the wall and it looked great. While they worked on that I would start cleaning the tanks. I decided to vacuum Ari's tank and move omelet over there temporarily. And do a deep clean on the frog tank to try and deal with the snails that have gotten out of control over there. It would take a lot of water changes and vacuuming and honestly it's still not totally clean. But I took all of the decor out and I am going to wash it really good at camp tomorrow. And maybe just redo the whole set up. But regardless I want to get the tank really nice. And maybe I'll get a new fish sooner rather then later.

When James finishes the painting and it dried we started decorating the shelf and I'm really excited about how it looks. Like just so fun. And I still have the whole bookcase too!! It's very exciting and I'm really happy with our little home.

James made me a grilled cheese. And we hung out on the couch. Eventually they would have a nice phone call with their friend to talk about a book they were reading. And I just enjoyed laying on the couch with sweetp. It has been a really nice evening.

I am going to go take a shower and get ready to sleep soon. Tomorrow I have some documents to make up for programs I have the next two weeks. And me and Sarah are planning on making craft examples. And organizing the games we have in the attic to make rainy day boxes for cabins and groups. I hope it's a fun day.

I hope you all have a really nice night. I love you all. Goodnight!!