#i had to compress the hell out of it to make discord happy and i dont care to re-export it! Whatever!

[sableprince]

i wish i had an answer to the question "Why did this song come to mind when you saw this new dance animation?", but i don't have an answer, so i'll just leave it as-is.

[failedintsave]

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

[seijojoh]

What is this? | S. Tomura

Pairing: Shigaraki x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Shigaraki realizes his personal feelings for you, finally. At first, he is terrified. Someone with his quirk isn’t possibly fit for love,,, right?

Warnings: a bit of angst here, a few curse words there!  A/N: Idea was taken from a friend off of discord, so enjoy the first post on this tumblr blog! Also, to give a bit of clarification, Shiggy’s quirk is still effective against the reader and highly dangerous! Caution is needed for both parties. 

Also I apologize of Tomura seems a bit ooc for this, I just kind of changed his personality a bit as I went because THIS IS HELLA SELF INDULGENT! <3

Enjoy! This was not proofread lolol

There are no manga spoilers, but there are a few S1-S2 spoilers if you have not watched the anime yet!

Shigaraki felt stupid. Dense, ignorant, absolutely mindless!

Why did it take him so long to realize how absolutely captivating you are? The way your smile seems to brush away the storm clouds that used to follow him everywhere he went. You were so gentle, so kind, so... good. Part of him was concerned why you followed him and the league. The potential you hold is incredibly high and he was happy he acknowledged it the first day you walked into the dingy bar. It was only a day after he kicked out Dabi and Toga for a much needed contemplation. Giran introduced you to him and the moment the overworked leader laid his beady red eyes on you, he knew you were worthy.

Granted, it did not show - at least he hoped not. Father was still on his face, blocking out his features from the crowd in front of him. He studied you carefully as you explained your reasoning for joining, and much to his surprise you were there for him and not Stain or his master. You claimed you had high hopes for the League of Villains and would follow him anywhere.

Although he did not audibly voice his thoughts, he simply nodded once and told Giran to show you out. You were confused of course, but assumed he did not want you there after all. Part of you panicked and worried that your request to join was denied, that was until he told you that he will be in contact.

That was seven months ago. Seven months of pure confusion and absolute torture. In that time, he was overwhelmed by his own injuries sustained from the USJ attack, the failed Nomu experiments and his master finally being taken into custody. While he worried and thought over the future of the league, you were always there to offer him help, whether it was a few words of advice, a lending ear, or a head pat (he swears he hates them, and does threaten to disintegrate your entire arm for touching it - yet, he cannot help but relax at the feel). 

Either way, he believed you were a plague in his mind that needed to be taken care of. By the time he sought out Kurogiri for guidance, the personal taxi for the LOV informed Tomura that he may have growing romantic feelings towards you. 

Shigaraki only scoffed and slammed his unfinished glass of scotch on the bar before getting up and storming out of the space. Pfft, what was he talking about? Shigaraki and feelings don’t mix. He was a firm believer that they clouded judgement and with that, he could not carefully plan out the future for his team. How the fuck can feelings help him plan out his plot to completely demolish hero society?! And another- wait, what are you doing? As he walked through the upper floor of the hide out, he saw you and a couple of the other LOV members sitting on the dingy couch. The same one that has been left abandoned and sitting here for years, but everyone swears it’s the most comfortable thing on the planet. Regardless, he noticed that you, Dabi, Toga, Spinner and Compress were all seated on the thing, staring at the TV placed on the credenza. 

You were wedged between Dabi and Spinner, Dabi’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, his fingers gently thrumming over the old material absentmindedly. Although he was not physically touching you, Tomura could not help the twinge of.... anger that started to grow in the pit of his stomach. You looked so comfortable next to him, too. Your thighs were properly rubbing against each other (only due to Dabi’s incessant need to man spread and take up a bit of the space you silently needed), as well as your sides. It looked as if he was cuddling you and you did not seem to mind. Granted, he knows your particular love for physical affection but, out of all people? Dabi? Really?

Why was this asshole so close to you? I don’t like it. Should he dust his ass and be rid of him once and for all?!

Of course, you noticed his anger radiating off of his body in waves by the door. You turned your head in his direction and gave him a warm smile.

“Hey, we’re watching a few movies. Come join us!” You offered with the sweetest smile, back straightening in effort. The others caught onto their leader by the door, all of them sitting in quiet anticipation for what Shiggy might do. 

He felt awkward, anxious if you will. Never before did he have all of these eyes staring at him, waiting for a response no less. Damn you, look what you have done now! Now his heart is racing, a pink color spreading from his cheeks to the base of his neck. What the fuck is happening to him? And why the fuck isn’t Father on his face?

With a scoff, he mumbled a quick “no” before turning back around and heading to a space where he knew he could not get pissed off easily. 

Why does he feel this way? In his silent march back to his room, he kept replaying the beautiful smile that graced your lips. It made his heart flutter seeing it, reminding him of an innocent time that felt like it was lifetimes ago. Or the interest that sparked in your eyes as you noticed him for the first time. It was as if you were a small child, seeing a wonder for the first time. Every bit of attention you showed to this man did not go unmissed whatsoever.

In fact, he craved those little reactions, especially when he was feeling particularly overworked or just pissed off by everything something. Now he’s done it and practically shot down your innocent request just because he saw a burnt chicken sitting next to you as if you two were casual lovers. No, he should be the only one close to you like that. 

Your attention should be on him while you were comfortable at his side as he plays different rounds on his video games. Maybe you can sneak in a praise or two on how well he’s doing, or how cool his avatar looks, yanno? A movie could hardly do the trick in entertaining you in the ways he could. You only needed him....

And he only needed you.....

“Fuck,” he said once he shut the door to his room.

~

A few days after his silent revelation, Shigaraki has been characteristically quiet,,, but times 100. He hardly gets angry to the stupid shit Spinner spits out. Sometimes he’ll full out ignore the sly comments Dabi makes about upcoming missions. It was not like him and everyone knew it.

You seemed to have it worse. Every time you made a move to converse with him, he seemed to send you a hard glare that kept you away. Normally you can get past an occasional scowl or scoff sent in your direction, but the eyes he looked at you were filled with pure annoyance. It made you wonder if you are the cause of his anger. Did you say something unwarranted before? Was the progress made not sufficient enough for the singular leader? What?

The root of his anger was within himself, moreso his quirk. The strong effectiveness of destroying everything he touches pissed him off to no extent. Has he no control whatsoever? 

He was always careful, always keeping a pinkie finger or thumb raised on an object to keep it from being destroyed. Kurogiri suggested he purchased gloves with a few fingers cut out to allow him the ability to use his full hand, but that wasn’t enough for the man. He wanted, no needed, to use his full hand.

His private training started with little things: a napkin from the bar, a random door stopper found in the hallway, even a broken lamp found in the back alleyway of the hideout. He’d sit there and concentrate on his quirk, pleading with his own cells to turn off his quirk, even for a few seconds. By the time his digits would touch the objects, they’d all crumble mere moments later. To say he was irritated was an understatement. 

He’d concentrate on absolutely fuck all onto for his quirk to activate without much effort. Was he doomed to ruin everything he touched? Is this punishment for past crimes Tomura committed in another life? 

What’s the point of having a quirk that absolutely wrecks everything he touches? 

Staring at the small pile of ash on the floor (formerly known as an old bar-stool and an empty bottle of bleach), he knew this was your fate if these feelings persisted. Not being able to provide the physical contact he knew you’d love and he so desperately needed. 

Tomura never touched anyone that he liked. Hell, up until recently, he didn’t know he liked you. His touches often resulted in people getting erased and the cold sensations that would run through his spine whenever he did would leave him empty. He wanted things to be different, only because he knew you were different. 

You deserved something better, not.... this. 

Frustrated, Tomura grunted softly and picked up the empty plate he was getting ready to practice on next. With his pinkie raised, he gripped the ceramic item and threw it directly into the nearest wall. What he failed to notice was the chipped corner with sharp edges on the plate, and it effectively left a nasty cut in the space between his pinkie and ring finger.

Passing by, you heard the commotion coming from Shigaraki’s room. With a frown you knocked on the door. “Shigaraki? What’s going on in there?” There was a heavy amount of concern in your voice.

Shit.

He decided not to answer, hoping his silence coupled with his shitty attitude from the last few days would be enough to send you away. But, it didn’t.

“Hey, I’m coming in, okay?” You announced, barging into a space you knew you were not allowed in. He watched with wide eyes as you scanned the event in front of you. There was an unmissable pile of ash by his feet, a dent from which he tossed the plate as well as its shards scattered across the form. When her eyes landed on his form, she took notice of his his bleeding hand being cradled to his chest. “Here, allow me-”

“Go away, scram. I don’t need you here,” Shigaraki turned away stubbornly, walking stomping angrily to his desk in search for some form of napkin to soak up all the blood on his hand. He did not hear you walk up behind him, hand on his shoulder as a sign of your stubbornness.

“You’re bleeding,” you announced as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. As you crossed around him, you reached forward to take his hand but he recoiled away. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish?” He angrily snarled, taking a step back. With a huff, you pressed forward, still reaching for him.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me help,” your tone was soft and reassuring, which hardly helped in Tomura’s case. The hell were you thinking? If you carelessly grab him like that then surely you would crumble before him. Is breathing becoming too much of a hassle for you, or- 

Oh.

In the midst of Tomura’s silent panic, he felt the warmth of your hand cover his, your the backs of your hand gently rubbing over his in his attempt to curl his fingers. He was silently glad that he was wearing Father on his face, or you would see the insane blush washing over his cheeks; however he knew you could sense his complete and utter surprise. You were touching him... and it wasn’t a head pat.

No, this was an intimate skin to skin contact, your warmth contrasting his icy cold ones. On top of the warmth, he took note of how much softer your hands were against his rough textured ones, bringing him back to a time where he knew of what home felt like. A period in his life where he did not carry a heavy burden or the people around him look to him for all of the answers, no.

He just stared at you silent shock, his red eyes still blown wide.

“I’m okay, see. Nothing to worry about, okay?” Your voice was soft, lulling him to a much more calm state. “I’ll be careful with your fingers. I’ll just patch up the cut,” and there goes that damned smile. Whenever it was directed at him, he knew he lost the internal battle before it even began. It was just your effect on him.

He only nodded, tentatively watching the space where your hands were touching to commit this moment into memory and to make sure he did not accidentally touch you. With his green light, you were quick to jump to his aid, using whatever he had in his office to get the cut to stop bleeding and to patch it up with a band-aid.

“There we go,” you turned his hand over in your palm, fingers ghosting over the rough texture of them. He stared at you with an incredulous expression, ready to promptly kick you out but you beat him to it. “While I don’t have your quirk, I can understand it may seem like a bogus one to have. I don’t know what it’s like to constantly be on alert from something like that, but I have confidence that you will use it to lead us to greatness.”

There you go, saying cute and motivational shit again, boosting his ego and giving him words of affirmation. How the hell should he respond to that?

In his moments of silence, your smile did not falter once. You looked at him with so much adoration and care, Tomura could not help the rise in his heart race as you stared at him like that.

Without saying anything, Tomura lifted his non bruised hand (now wiped clean from the dripping blood from earlier), and used his knuckles to stroke the softness of your cheek. You did not flinch away once, instead leaning further into his touch, no matter how soft the action was. 

Even though he knew he could not touch you in the way he wanted, he found this small action of endearment to be just as effective. It burned away all of the negative emotions he has been harboring recently, leaving comfort in its wake. The sentiment surely pleased you seeing as though you were closer than before, your chest nearly pressed into his.

Maybe this physical affection thing can work out with him after all. ~

[spaceinmyhead13]

Chapter 266

Alright, so the translations came out and there are quite a few things that I want to touch on. But first, 2 things: I know that some of you may want to read the chapter yourself and make your own deductions so here’s the link to where I read it! Also, a few of these thoughts were born from the Sarcasm and Sobbing discord, if you’d like to join please dm me and I’ll get you the link! Alright, onto the breakdown:

Man, I don’t even know where to start, let’s go from Hawks and make our way through.

1: The biggest thing that happened to Hawks this chapter was the use of his name by Dabi. We as fans know his name, Takami Keigo, from the release of the Ultra Analysis book that was released late last year. However, this means that other than the commission, there should be no characters in the My Hero universe that know Hawks’ real name. Which leads to the huge question: How in the world does Dabi know it? Well, there are a few ideas, but most of them (that aren’t crack theorys) revolve on the idea that the two of them knew each other before Hawks was fully trained to be a hero, and before Dabi (who is supposedly Touya Todoroki) is thought to have run away from home. I personally believe in this theory, as to me it’s supported by the recent ed of the anime. I mentioned in another post how odd I found it that Hawks was included on the page as the rest of the Todoroki family, and now we may have that connection. It’s highly probable that Hawks had some sort of contact with the Todoroki family while he was still young, and somehow Dabi remembered him and decided to bring it up just now. The other theory that I think could also be true is that Dabi went and did some digging on Hawks, as we now know he was skeptical of Hawks from the beginning (and for good reasons). Also, in the last panel I have attached to this post, we see Hawks wonder “Who are you?” about Dabi. This means that we definitively know that Hawks has no clue of Dabi’s true identity, something that some of us fans had thought he had known. To me, I love the fact that Dabi knows Hawks but Hawks doesn’t know Dabi, it adds more to Dabi’s mystery factor and makes me want to know just who he is so much more.

2: I touched on Dabi a lot in my last point, but I wanted to mention his relationship with Twice. Dabi has been shown throughout the entire manga to not appear to care about the others in the LoV or the PLF, but we see him not only save Twice, but also encourage him to keep fighting. It was a nice change of pace to see him care about someone, even just for a moment. 

3: Now, on the topic of Twice. I’m not a Twice blog, I’m a DabiHawks blog, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t like twice, hell, I love the guy! So seeing him like this really kind of broke me (especially when the spoilers came out yesterday). It’s clear just how much guilt he holds on his shoulders for not only this whole mess, but also the death of Magne. He repeatedly says to Toga that “It’s my fault again” with reference to the leading of Overhaul to the group, where he killed Magne in cold blood. He holds a lot of guilt over that even though the league never thought it was his fault to begin with. This rings even harder when we learn at the end of the chapter that Twice was happy with his life with the PLF, and made even sadder between his interaction with Toga. However, I’m not a Twice blog so I’ll leave that up the professionals who do run blogs dedicated to him. 

4: Alright, this is something that I shared in Sarcasm and Sobbing that really struck me; the wording of some things. Now I know that sometimes translations can be a bit wonky, but there is still merit in how things are worded. Multiple times during this chapter I posted places where the wording just struck me as odd. The first one is with Hawks, who starts to say that “I’ll move him” before he’s cut off by Dabi throwing fire towards him. This is just odd. Why would he want to move Twice when his goal is to kill him? It makes no logical sense to me. Why wouldn’t he just kill him there if that was his goal? Sure, Dabi is there, but we’ve seen that Hawks is much faster than Dabi, with his speed being rated 6/6 compared to Dabi’s 3/5. Hawks still is shown to have a few feathers he can control, and as I’ve stated in a previous post he was raised to be a child soldier, surely he knows how to kill someone quickly? Things just don’t line up for me. The second time wording is important is when Twice is hit a bit by Dabi’s fire, exclaiming, “Hot! That’s burnin’ cold!”. Once again something to lend to the Dabi is a Todoroki theory. It makes sense that his fire would be so hot to the point of being cold, as there's a certain point your nerves can feel the heat before they just start to feel it as cold. This could be the mix of Rei and Endeavor that Dabi received. Sure he had flames, but his flames were so hot that they were cold, like his mother. Now the last thing is when Twice makes it to Toga and Compress. He tells them that “[he] was backstabbed by Hawks” Which at first glance makes sense. But then I thought about it... This is his best friend Toga he’s talking to, it feels weird that he would say that instead of saying something like “Hawks killed me”. The only time he references that he may be dying is when he says “Till’ the end, for realizes this time.” Something that he said because he thinks he’s dying. Now, this may all mean nothing, as we know that Hori isn’t afraid to kill off characters, but it doesn’t ring right with me. All the times someone has died in My Hero so far we have seen them either die or dead. We saw Magne get blown to pieces, Nighteye pass away in his hospital bed, and we even got to see Best Jeanist (supposedly dead body) in a duffle bag. Hori has never had reservations around death in this manga, and yet now he does? It just doesn’t make sense to me. We never got to see 1 of 2 things: Twice’s dead body his the ground, or Hawks stab him. Sure, we saw Hawks about to get him, but we didn’t actually see it. Something is off about this chapter and I just can’t quite put my finger on it. 

Anyway, whether Twice is dead of not we can all agree that this chapter his all of us hard in the feels. Seeing Twice like that hurt a lot, in a way I didn’t think I could hurt about a character. But on a lighter note, it feels like the Dabi=Touya reveal is so much closer. Having Hawks question who Dabi really feels like the last moment before we get the truth, but I guess we’ll just have to wait. 

But that’s just a theory, a weeb theory. See y’all Saturday for anime pics!

[elegantmoonchild]

Thoughts on writing, SweetVee, and the writing monster within while wrapping up “No Angel”…

These are some personal thoughts I wanted to share regarding “No Angel” and the difficult journey it took to finish this whopper of a story, along with other tales of writing insecurities, anxieties, and my own personal definition of what it means to be a responsible fanfic writer. I recognize there has been a lot of discord and hurt feelings from writers across the fandom, and I wanted to do my part to share my concerns and experiences, without fear of retribution or crucifixion, in the hopes it might ease the woes of someone else silently suffering from writing anxiety like myself.

I’m going to get deeply personal, so you’ve been forewarned.

First, I want to say this fic has been such a ride for me throughout its entire inception, planning, crafting, and publishing. When I created SweetVee last year, I had no idea how much the ship would affect me and my writing, how much hope it would give me to charter new territory. I can’t believe the exposure the ship has gotten and I truly am glad it’s inspiring others to write again. That’s incredible for a silly little idea to have made such an impact!

That being said, I struggled dearly with “No Angel”, and this story nearly stole the love I had for writing right out from under my feet. There were times when it felt like I had poured every last part of myself into the lines. There were nights I got two hours of sleep, missed spending time with my family during the holidays because I was so exhausted, and I lost weight simply because I had no appetite. Morgan @fangfogartys had to literally yell at me some days to go to bed. I searched deep into old wounds for this story because I so desperately wanted to give the ship I had created the BEST possible chance for survival because I thought it had so much potential. I wanted readers to believe in SweetVee. I wanted to write them so believable and realistic in their own unique world because they are unique! They literally had no shared lines and were created because I thought their personalities could mesh uniquely well. I wanted to show the world how beautiful and complicated and dark this kind of couple can be. I see in them the ability to explore the sides of themselves that are scary, terrifying, but with each other they find the strength to discover and learn and better themselves. These kind of relationships aren’t cookie cutter, because what relationship truly is?

But my anxiety got the best of me. I began to question and doubt every single word, every single line. I sought comfort from friends, time and time again, because I could not believe a simple compliment about my writing was genuine. This fic changed me. It turned me from someone who wanted to support everyone into someone I despised — something I’ve worked very hard in my 30 years of life to overcome. The ship I loved so much soon turned into something I hated. I felt guilt and anger and shame and my anxiety shot through the roof. I sought out validation from people I don’t need validation from. I counted comment count, kudos count, compared to the number of reblogs I got and the people who seemed so genuinely excited about an update but neglected to comment. It took away the FUN of fandom for me, turned it into a job where I wanted recognition for the hard work I had done. This kind of side to me is not one I exhibit in my personal life outside of this screen, and it shouldn’t be me while I am here.

Writing, for me, is a catharsis of all the pent-up energy I cannot expel through any other means but anger or dancing or tears. My anxiety is so overwhelming and crippling at times, I feel like I’m mentally pacing in a small room, the compressed force of my energy increasing the pressure of the tiny volume of the prison where I’m mentally burning holes in the floor. It takes everything in me to quiet that energy and keep the ceiling from combusting inward. Writing has helped me, and though I wish I could remember who sparked that reinterest in the hobby, I unfortunately cannot do so and cannot thank them for what they’ve given me, which essentially feels like part of my soul back. The fact others can remember, can pinpoint who and what and that it is me that did that for them just blows me away. I was able to bring that spark to someone else, and that makes all the difference in the world. That helps to quiet the anxiety, push down that nervous energy, and I can see clearly in an open space instead of a locked room.

My anxiety with SweetVee became an all-consuming monster that I just couldn’t quiet. I wanted to work my hardest to make the argument for why they worked. Because here’s the thing — creating a ship isn’t about simply saying these two people would look cute together because of height difference. I created the ship name. I created the AO3 tag. There was no evidence anyone was talking about them so in an essence, I gave them their first breath by putting them to paper and bringing their union to light. That’s a lot of pressure that nobody was putting on me but myself, but I’m a perfectionist when it comes to my work, so naturally I over-exerted myself until I succumbed to the burnout and had to step away.

I’m going to take you back several months here to early Fall of 2017, shortly after “Riverdale” returned for season two. I’ve been very vocal that there were many times I considered tossing “Ouroboros.” One of my best friends came to visit me and I can vividly remember us walking the neighborhood and me talking about my concerns with the story and how believable it was, and she nearly convinced me to toss it because I left open a huge hole that I questioned night and day. However, instead of giving up, I changed the story and continued on. People have told me that fic reignited the spark for writing for them, and in an instant, knowing it made a difference for even one person made the experience entirely worth it. To know it inspired someone else questioning writing into taking a leap and creating a product that turned out fantastic makes it even more worth it, beyond so.

It’s been my lot in life, it seems, to always be there for others. I’ve worked hard to not let it consume me and twist me into something angry when I feel depleted or taken advantage of, but despite my desire to change who I am, that is one facet where I just can’t. So that should show you how simple recognition really resonates with me. It tells me I’m on the right path. I’m doing the right thing. I’m making a difference because there are times I feel so small and so quiet, I know others feel this too. If I am told that my presence alone made a difference, then that proves I can help someone else who feels small feel the same sort of achievement, the same kind of strength. People have thanked me for leaving long comments on their stories. I’m here now to say I am honored to be able to leave comments the way I do because the magnitude of your support has kept me interested in the fandom, in “Riverdale” fanfiction. I would have walked away, had it not been my love for writing and the encouragement I received by people actually telling me they gave a shit about what I do. So the credit for that ultimately goes back goes to you, the readers and writers.

I’ve had people tell me they are gobsmacked that I would talk to them because they view me as a major player in the fandom, and that honestly just blows my mind. I have felt like this small speck before, and there are times I still feel that way. Unfortunately, what comes with that title is the ability to influence, and though I don’t want the pressure of that, I know I am strong enough now to utilize it to help others out. There are people I looked up to when I first joined this fandom, people I don’t view in the same particular light, because after a considerable amount of thought, I realize that these people are human, just like me, and not every human is meant to get along or agree. Instead of being disappointed and wallowing in this truth, I’ve decided to use my own influence and help shed the light on others who need it. I will never stop remembering what it feels like to be a small writer in a big space. I will never forget that, and I will do my damnedest to help others stop reliving that reality because it can be Hell. It can rob you of the very feeling you’ve said I gave back to you, the very feeling given back to me by some of the writing in this fandom – that spark to create, that will to continue and push on through that negative energy and watch it blossom into something brilliant, something you can be proud of. I hope I never turn into that person that loses your trust, loses your respect. I hope my head never gets too big to where I can’t help someone else out, can’t fan the flames of that spark in someone else. If I ever get that way, yell at me in a DM, please. I will be humble enough to accept that.

Everything writers here describe in their journey is exactly what I experience when I write. That thrill and anguish, all of it, I feel it too, and it’s both a gift and a curse. It can be soul-crushing and uplifting, all in the same stroke. However, there is that pride that shines bright at the end of the tunnel, and it outweighs all the turmoil. I will do my best so that the pride you feel does not go forgotten. I will do my best to ensure it remains intact if I have to comment on every chapter, reblog every sneak peek, and message you to tell you how much I enjoyed your work. If you ever feel like I’m not doing enough, not helping you out, not reading your work, please tell me. It is this burden I am more than happy to carry because it means something. It means something. To more than just myself.

For those of you who have told me in private that I have gifted you with the ability to write again, please know I will not squander that praise. Those words will never escape me, and I will be your biggest cheerleader and biggest coach for the rest of our time here in this fandom to make sure that gift does not go neglected.

Going back to “No Angel”, I’ve seen a lot of people encouraging to “write for you,” and at first that sentiment made no sense. If I was only writing for myself, my words would remain in a dusty word doc never to be seen by anyone else, including myself. The purpose of fanfiction is to write for a fandom. So what does “writing for oneself” truly mean? I think I found my own example, and I’ll share it with you willingly.

It took me a while to realize I had written “No Angel” for everyone else, not myself — that’s why I became so obsessed with validation. I wanted other people to believe my theory in why this ship worked. I wanted people to give me that chance because I worked so hard to make that argument compelling enough for people to read, or so I thought. An incredible fandom friend reminded me that the weight of those few choice people who chose not to read my work paled in comparison to the dozens of people who vocally told me they enjoyed what I do, have thanked me for my storytelling and for always being courteous enough to communicate my feedback to their feedback. See, in my mind, I had set expectations for people who didn’t deserve them. I expected people to at least be curious enough to want to read about the originator’s take on a ship. I thought people would be curious enough with all of the reblogs and likes to at least give me the benefit of a doubt. What I did was forget that people have freedom of choice and that’s my bad. I equated support of fandom with my own definition that doesn’t necessarily equate to someone else’s. No one’s at fault for that more than myself, and I apologize if I offended anyone along the way. I just wanted to be seen as someone who could contribute something of quality to this fandom, and my view of what that looks like can be drastically different than someone else’s.

I had to wrestle with the warring, conflicting emotions that every writer feels – pride in their work and disappointment when you see the hit count go up and up and up and the comment count stay the same. If a writer ever tells you this doesn’t get under their skin, they’re lying to you. So here’s the deal. Moving forward, I’m writing for myself in the only way I know how.

My next fic is a pregnancy AU for SweetVee that I’m really, really excited about writing. It brought back my love for this ship because I want to write this for me, no one else. And honestly, if you don’t want to read it, that’s fine. In all honesty, that’s no one’s loss but your own, and that’s not to sound snide but more as my way of saying I’m going to be proud and happy regardless because I now value my hard work and my skill and I value my ship. I will never stop writing for them because they give me inspiration – SweetVee is me and I will always be a part of SweetVee because I gave birth to them. I gave them life to the public and now that they are grown, I am sending them off into the world to be loved by others and I, in turn, will love them in my own individual way just like a mother would.

I want to thank the people who truly read “No Angel” and took the time to comment on it, or if you sent me an ask or a DM about it (I recognize not everyone has an AO3 account to comment). You guys are a great reason I’m still writing fanfiction today because I know it’s not the ship you crave, but me. My writing. My vision. You gave me a little slice of the limited time you have each day and I appreciate that, so so fucking much. I’ve seen writers walk away entirely because something they work hard on gets little exposure. Fandom can feel like a popularity contest at times, and I appreciate you taking a chance on someone with a very tiny spot in a big, wide world. I’d hate to give up something I love because I thought people hated it. Your words kept me from believing that. And now I’ve found the strength to do something I love for me.

At the end of the day, I’m so fucking proud of “No Angel,” and I don’t give a damn what the hit count looks like or if you don’t want to read it. I know I made a solid product that I can say without a doubt was one of my BEST pieces of work, and in the end that’s really the only thing that matters.

Thank you again for the love. I plan on dropping some teasers very soon for my next SweetVee and Bughead fics, but in the meantime I’m always around if you have thoughts or need help with anything writing or fandom related (or life or whatever. I’m here for you).

— Sam, elegantmoonchild

[unravelling-the-world]

I was trying my best, and another friend who always took pictures of us (we took pics of him as well dw) documented all of those moments, i even used a not-permanent spray color hair for that day just so the pictures could be special. I didn't particularly like myself, I never did ,but I was too busy to think about it. When i went out, i felt decent at least. Binder, thick under-eye red/black liner, just the perfect e-boy look i wanted. I felt that, as a pre-hrt person, I was looking as masc as I could while doing the style that makes me comfortable and I want to achieve. I was doing my best everytime we went out to look presentable in the pictures, and I did well 9/10 times. At some point, there was a light festival as well. I went with one friends and my cousin and we had fun. My friend and I took pictures, my cousin didn't want hers taken but we still interacted a lot and had fun, I loved the pics of that day. I never got to post them, because my downfall came soon after. At that point in time, I was finally living the dream. I posted frequently on ig (bc i went out frequently) and even though i wasn't anyone big, no partnerships or anything, not even 1k followers, I was growing, and having been intoxicated by fame at age 12, it was just what I needed. My posts started getting 70 likes on average and 7-10 comments, i only had 500 followers but they were growing at an average of 20 followers/month. A lil tween reached out to me and told me he thought I was really cool and was my fan. Bro, that was awesome. Things were moving forward, and altough i felt afraid of the future, I was working on it all. I was making progress in other aspects as well,having come out formally recently and with help from my psychologist, we were going to start looking into hrt, and i just couldn't believe it. I only have read fast and short info. I never really wanted to inform myself more because deep within me I was just afraid I'd never be able to get it and get my hopes up for nothing. We appointed a session to talk about that. This was march, and at my house, we watched a Japanese channel (because we are all interested in Japanese culture and such) So I knew the coronavirus was coming. They started talking about it since the start, in december, obviously, because they are way closer to where the virus started so it spread faster there. I remember it was on a cruise first. I knew it would eventually arrive here, so through all summer i told my mother "it's only a matter of time." I knew it'd come. March was here, and the last time i went out with my friends came along. Inside my head, I felt like I knew that was the last time. I had thoughts about "I wonder if i'll ever get to see a sight like this again". I managed to take some pictures, because,inside me, I knew that was the last time. I wanted to preserve the memory of it. I didn't want to forget. At the time, with a friend, who took the same metro line as me but lives further away, since it was just us two, when saying goodbye we'd always say "see you in five minutes" (like in endgame, because i told her the whole movie and told her when they said that and then black widow died) and she LAUGHED so hard and it became an ongoing joke between us (we are both kinda suicidal ngl but we just laugh abt it.) We said it that day as well, but we actually never saw each other again lmao

At that point, in the country, there were about 4 covid cases. Only 1 in the capital, so it had started, but was only just the start. When I got home, i kind of knew that was the last. My classes started, and for two weeks, it was hell on earth. Online,obviously. I got paired up with the guy I hated the most in the entire generation (I only knew half of them, and liked even fewer, but this guy. fuck. i would have killed him. he was awful.) Anyways. Yeah. But at the end, classes got postponed until further notice. So I was now a Neet! For a while, even though coronavirus was getting worse and worse here as everywhere, I was doing good. I was living the introvert dream, and since I have a decent/good relationship with my parents and grandma, life was just great. All around me I saw everyone struggle with quarantine. I was having a blast. Playing sims, watching anime, anything went. Shit was great. Got Gta V for free when epic released it, and had a blast. Got obsessed with obey me for a while. It was all fun.... Met via discord with my friends. Almost daily with certain friends, once in a while with others, but the whole group would be together at least once. It was good, for me. I felt good. I would ocassionally wake up and tell my mother that I was happy, and hug her. I don't think i'd ever done that. I was at peak, and I knew it. Drew a lot, played a lot. Did a lot of things and projects. Everything felt ok...My dysphoria wasn't great during these times (since now i stay in pajamas all day except when I use camara to meet with friends, and obviously I dont wear my binder with my pajamas) But i had so much free time, that I could just ignore it. (I'm good at avoiding things. at running away.)

Classes started June 1st. First day, I had a breakdown. I don't remember why, but I couldn't connect to class. I felt overwhelmed. I don't know and don't like asking for help because i feel useless when I do. So I didn't. Apparently I seemed more upset than I thought, because my dad noticed. When comforted or confronted, I always cry. I can't talk about my feelings without crying. I feel weak for expressing them. Even writing this, i feel the knot in my neck. My dad saw and ended up helping and comforting. I cried a lot. I went to class, but spent the whole 3 hours of class crying. Things were unstable for a while, but I was keeping afloat, I guess. I started feeling like shit, I wasn't happy daily anymore. Online learning felt so distant and so difficult and so different. I don't like change. At least not without expecting it beforehand. So yeah, that ended up taking a toll on my mental health. The downfall started. I was quite busy, but still tried to meet with friends via discord whenever we could. We had some online birthdays, and season 3 of osomatsu san had already been announced. I was looking forward to it so much. I was in pain, but that thought was keeping me going. I started getting worse, mentally. I started isolating myself ocasionally. I have quite long gaps from this period. I can't really recall much of what happened or what it was like. At some point around August-September I was watching 6teen, because my uni decided that starting a semester and compressing it into a trimester was a good idea, and finals were in september, i think. At the time of finals, i was watching 6teen. I didn't wanna finish it, so I started total drama after. I had a week of vacation in September as well, and I think I was OK for the week.

I won't lie. I don't remember october. I only know Osomatsu-san started here bc I waited for it all year long. I regained closer contact with a friend who lives in japan. Halloween also had an online meeting. I cosplayed, and felt good with myself for the night, for the first time in months. But I ended up having a breakdown later that night. A friend who didn't come and had said he'd come ended up arriving very late (2-3AM ish, meeting was at 10PM) He was very drunk. I don't mind. He says he just came to say sorry he didn't come bc he ended up meeting with irls. We tell him it's ok. He disconnects. He reconnects not long after, but we are confused, since that's not his voice. It was his friend who took his phone, a classic party prank. Doesn't matter, it was fun for a bit. This guy is also mad drunk, so talking to him is weird and funny. But shit gets bad for me in a bit. I was using a voice changer, as I usually do online, because Im ashamed of my high pitched voice. But this guy misgenders me, more than once, and also my friend who lives in japan. He doesn't seem to care, and I act like I don't, but it hurts so bad. My other friend who was there at that time corrects him, more than once. I felt thankful to her. I never thanked her afterwards because I didn't know how to bring out that topic without crying. This guy is very drunk though, and altough i doubt he had vile intentions because of the way he phrased it, he insists, that those are womans voices. They talk about it a bit, verbal comebacks. I wanted them to stop. At some point, my friend who lives in Japan leaves bc its lunch time for him. I felt like shit. I just told this other guy "I'm 10" and he dropped the subject, he believed me and the explanation. My friend laughed her ass out, because she thought I said it as a joke. Truth is, that was just a desperate answer to get him to drop the topic. I dont really care if he believed I was 10 or not though. I just wanted it to stop. He jokes with my friend for a bit more. I didn't talk much after, because I felt ashamed. I didn't want to talk ever again. Even now, even with the voice changer, I don't have the confidence I had when I started using it. I have lowered the pitch twice, just in case. My friend left the call a bit later. When she left, I left as well. I was thankful to her though. I don't remember if i cried or not, but it caused me a massive breakdown for about two weeks. I didn't talk online with anyone until my birthday, I think. I didn't tell anyone but my psychologist this.

I don't remember November much either. I know it's my birthday, and I know I came back to tumblr in november. Yall know when. Canon destiel and shit. Tumblr hadn't felt so alive in years. It felt like home. I remember I was having a bad breakdown during that time. I think it was career related. I can't really remember much. The shitshow happening on tumblr Destiel Election actually helped me get better. I remember this only because of a conversation I had with a friend. I started working on christmas decorations as well. December came along, I worked hard on christmas decorations. I played a bit as well, because on some of my classes I just didn't have anything to do lol. Decorations were finished two weeks in advance for christmas. For the first time ever! I was happy. During these times,Nov-Dec lockdowns started easing up a bit. I still can't go out at all though, because I live with my grandmother, so we're supposed to minimize risks. My parents only go out for shopping essentials that can't be bought online. So it's fair and I understand it, but it started becoming hard on mental health. Not because I can't go out, but because my friends start going out. They know I can't go, they don't exclude me, but they know I can't and I also know I can't. I guess in a form, its jealousy. It becomes hard because there's no one to blame. It's no one's fault. I'm not excluded on purpose, but the truth is, I don't want to hear them talk about what they do when they have fun. I've always been insecure. Even when all evidence points otherwise, I still believe, deep inside,they hate me. They wish I weren't in the group and would be better off without me. It gets hard sometimes.

Even though in general December was quite good, it also came with a major breakdown. One of my best friend's bday is in December. Up until then, Me, her, and another friend had been playing league of legends nearly daily. It was toxic sometimes (the game/community, not my friends) but we had fun. I just liked playing together. But that would come to an end as well. My friend celebrated her birthday, and did invite me, but obviously I couldn't go,and she knew this beforehand, so she didn't get mad or anything. She handled the situation very well, wrote on the gc once, and then did a special gc for birthday attendants to talk about details there and such, and reminded friends who asked in the gc to talk in the birthday gc. (this is how i knew, but i think it was well done tbh, i wish they'd just asked in the bday gc instead so i wouldn't have seen it and felt bad about how i couldn't go) My friend also offered to have me as an online guest, like, being in videocall in the computer on the table. like Karen from spongebob ig. the idea was cool, but honestly i felt bad. She celebrates her bday with her gf bc their dates are near, and I just didn't really want to inconvenience them? I mean, her gf is cool and she used to hang out with our group ocassionaly and she was cool and fit in, and it never felt awkward talking to her irl or anything but it's not like she's my friend and honestly I didn't wanna inconvenience her party, and even though I'm sure my friend wouldn't have minded, I didn't want to be an extra inconvenience for her too. I just wanted her to have fun, honestly. But feeling like a burden ended up weighing on my mind. This caused a bad bad breakdown, beforehand I had started to become better,little by little, but these two weeks waiting for that event to happen felt like a nightmare to me. I didn't tell anyone. I think i wrote it about here once. Around this time, an account on instagram called "matsunoadvice" got reccomended to me, and Oh boy Have I gone to them for advice. Of course, I sent them a message at the time, desperate for someone to talk to, because I couldn't tell anyone about this, because all my other friends know each other kinda and i didn't wanna inconvenience everyone. I didn't want anyone to know i felt like shit. I felt thankful to my friend, because she did try her best to include me, I just didn't really wanna inconvenience anyone. I guess I'd rather suffer alone myself than being a pain in the ass for someone else. After all, I've accepted that I'm alone long ago, and since now there's nothing I can do to maintain my social relationships now,I may as well just accept that theyre ending now. I kind of isolated myself for those two weeks, sometimes i would still connect on discord, but it always felt kind of distant. I stopped playing league of legends around this time.

I still hadn't confirmed to my friend if i was virtually going or not. Truth is, i kind of knew I probably wouldn't want to go in the end, bc im Like That™ But i told her in advance that i'd let her know the date of the event early in the day because of how unstable I am and I wouldn't actually be sure until the day (which was true when I told her) So the day of the event i told her that I was thankful but I wouldn't be assisting virtually and told her to have a great day! She replied okay in a nice way as she always did. I don't think she seemed weirded out by my answer. I hope she didn't feel bad, because she's very empathetic so I hope she didn't think about me at all that day. I hope she never reads this, and even if she does, she didn't really do anything wrong and handed the situation the best she could, the pain was unevitable for me due to the situation. beforehand i had also had a similar breakdown though, because 3 friends who i was/am? still very close to started meeting each other to skate together. I don't know how to skate/have never skated and obviously can't go either way, and sometimes they'd talk about it in the vc. I remained calm always until the call ended,but I did cry about it late at night. It's selfish, of course, but when no one saw anyone, it was easier. we were all the same. But now it felt like they were all moving on without me. In a way, it's what I always wanted, but I always wished to die first. I know it's not sane, but i'd imagined situations like that in my head, where I die and then everyone moved on and it made me feel calmer. But seeing that unfold before my eyes, when i'm still breathing here, i'm still here. It felt lonely. I'm glad they're having fun. I'm just upset I can't do it as well? And it makes me feel like inevitably my relationships with them will break and fall apart and dissapear and they're all still gonna be a interwined network, even though I did everything I could to maintain it because it's all I've ever had outside of my direct family? I didn't make any friends at uni or have a different group of friends so it just...hurt? It still hurts, i'm just more used to it. Also after the bday i did try to connect in vc but it just made me worse, like a friend said like "noo it got too wild honestly u didnt miss anything" and i was like lmao ok but i felt like kinda sad anyways but if i was there i wouldve probably slept through it anyways

...after i felt awful bc i have another friend who is just kinda blunt and kinda dumb when it comes to how others feel, and he was like ohh yeah but after the bday [friend] took us and some of [friends gf's friends] to our houses and since it was early we went to a mcdonalds and it was so fun !! and it was just so uncomfortable bc obviously im glad you have fun but like i dont wanna know??? bc it hurts a fuckin lot???? and my other friend who was also in vc (he was the one w the car) he was like "haha yeaaa it was fun" but he seemed quite uncomfortable talking abt it he could probably tell i didnt wanna hear and ik my other friend only did it bc he's naive not bc he had bad intentions but yeah it sucked i was like haha thats great heh.....like what ya want me to say babe

Christmas arrived and it ended up helping me a lot. Christmas is my favorite holiday and I decorated a month in advance, baked cookies for the first time (with my mom) and we just did a lot of things this year. It made me happy and kept me occupied through the pain (I know i described a lot of pain here but I only paid attention to it at night, which is why it still hurts now probably bc i've had it all repressed) And of course the gifts, honestly I didn't know what to expect because this year I didn't really know what to ask for and just asked for a surprise (because i love receiving things! anything) And my dad definetely outdid himself with all the gifts, I loved them and they're all useful too! I was amazed and i told my friends abt it and it ended up in me talking more in the vc again, and i also started playing genshin impact in late december as well. We also held a secrer santa in the group but not everyone participated (mostly bc of money) but the 4 of us that did was fun! i knew everyone's secret santa bc 2/4 asked to me for help and they were mutual </3 so i knew me and my other friend were mutual too lol but it was cool. I kinda was a bitch a bit though bc he delievered my gift to my home and was going to come a random day and I just wasn't prepared bc I was afraid of seeing him honestly I didn't want to see him and I hoped he wouldn't come? He didn't come that day but he did come some days after, I truly wasn't ready at that point anyway and my mom said we could let him inside if he sanitized, but he came with his mother and didn't get out of the car, we just exchanged the gifts, and honestly I was glad, i was polite and just said hi to both and thanks and all! Obviously i love him a lot bc we're close but idk why i didnt want him to come into my house i just feel like im so boring now and I dont know what we couldve talked abt and honestly ive always been shy but now i just forgot how to socialize and i was terrified so when he didnt get out i was just glad.....well, also

I feel like all of these incidents separated me and my friend who had her birthday on december. Now she wouldn't join the vc or gc often (or say she couldn't, which she usually did before) so I just assumed she hated me, but i didn't really have the guts to ask? She still liked my memes on the gc sometimes but not as she used to, she always used to like every single meme (or nearly all) and she never talked over me (I always get talked over except when I'm drunk bc i become a bit less shy therefore more violent) and would even call others out for me when talked over and always respected everything i told her abt me (Through the years, i've told her some of my deepest shits bc i just trust her like that i dont mind if she knows) but it just felt distant? Also a bit before that, at the start of december we started streaming on twitch, and that week i was very bad I told her i wouldn't play much bc i wasnt doing well but I was up for streaming bc i rly wanted to be professional abt it even if we dont pursue it as a career, but in the end we didnt stream, and fell out of streaming a bit after that. I was kind of afraid to ask her if she wanted to stream again, but we'd talked once and she said she'd finally gotten the cat earphones for the streams (she mentioned she wanted them beforehand) yeah anyways i dont think she actually hates hates me but idk the idea still lingers in my mind

uh yeah also i felt like shit for a bit bc i thought she definetely hated me bc we hadnt talked in a bit and she didnt like my memes anymore so i just assumed the worst, i even listened to break up music (which is what i do when a friendship ends bc altough ive never rly had strong romantic feelings for anyone that kind of song helps me move on after friend breakups too bc no one warns you abt how painful these are) and i cried obviously, but again i never mentioned it to anyone (i made a few vague textposts here though) and just got my shit together even if it hurt? lol, well a bit of time passes and everything seems to go back to normal, i dont remember how she told us but she said she had a job now which is why she didnt connect much and slept earlier and i felt relief lol bc i legit thought she hated me and i felt like shit abt it lol i mean the idea they kinda hate me lingers in my mind all the time but at that point in life i was like. SURE she hated me until that point. now we ocasionally play genshin together but i cant really talk at that time and that also makes me upset bc i do wake up late and im trying to fix my schedule a bit by waking up at 2pm instead of 5 pm but it doesnt even matter bc i play board games with my grandma daily (bc its good for her and its fun i do enjoy it) i just wish we could do it earlier bc lately she gets up at like 9pm and i end up finishing playing at 11/12/1 and its just kinda late to meet w my friends bc i always have smth to do/finish after and i just cant make it in time even if i wake up earlier? lol but i cant change her schedule so theres nothing i can do but cry about it

oh also ik matsunoadvice gave me advice on this but like there's this friend who i love obviously but sometimes he just talks abt his meetings w other friends and like it only makes me angry as fuck and i cant ask him to not bc im too shy but i wish he could stop. and also when he complains abt skate related stuff it makes me unexplainably angry but like i have no reason or right to im just angry bc i cant do that and probably never will bc i doubt ill ever be able to go out again ?? lol. and he even offered like "when we go out again u should come and ill lend u my skate and if u like it u can get one" and honestly its all super nice and i appreciate it and ive thanked him and told him yes but it just makes me feel angry inside bc i dont see an ending with all the mutations and shit and my voice cracks when i tell him haha yeah if we ever meet again bc honestly my youth is already over and i just spent it like a social recluse and i read a post here when i was younger that said like lgbt people spend their teens closeted and ashamed and live their teens in their twenties but now im gonna miss my twenties to the pandemic and then ill be too fucking old and itll be too fucking late and ill have to die and i just never lived bc i still havent even transitioned yet and i doubt ill ever be able to (this also causes me a lot of pain but i will ignore it) and the other day he said like i hope i can see u this year bc i miss u and i just said that honestly ive lost all hope of ever seeing anyone again and my voice cracked and my other friend said something related but not so related and im just glad he talked in bc i didnt rly care i just wanted to change the topic bc i know ill never see them again and eventually probably lose contact and see them all have fun together without me just as if i was dead but just didnt pass away and its difficult but i have to accept it and it hurts a lot now but in 7 years itll be fine, just like i accepted im unlovable and will never have a s/o and when i was 12 that hurt a lot but now it doesnt so someday i will be alone but i hope it doesnt hurt anymore.

this is all a mess and the format is everywhere and theres no timeline i hope no one reads it. if u do read it im sorry. i just honestly been carrying all of this for a while now and i want it out of my system honestly bc i dont know what to do with it and i was on the verge of a breakdown for a minimal thing hours ago i just want all this info out of my brain.....also obv these are only the bad things that have happened/good things that took me out of the hole but a lot of good things happened too lol and i skipped a lot of imp points like i changed careers and shit and also i met a lot of cool mutuals since i got back to tumblr and ososan been carrying my mental health every monday but yeah i just wanted the negatives out of the system. the frustrations and the anger. i hope no one reads this fr its so messy

[fyrapartnersearch]

A dangerous Game we play

(I didn't know what else to title this ad, I apologize)

Hello! The name is Ally and I’m a passionate role-player, student, and (unprofessional) hobby writer. Just to give you a quick little description of myself. 


Age: I am 27

Gender: female

Timezone: CET


 And I have had my fair share of experiences in roleplaying. I am more or less a veteran - but far from the perfect writing machine since English isn’t my first language. Usually, I post novella style ads, but I decided to compress the info and make it more short and sweet! :)   I’ve posted here a few times before and always met some intriguing individuals I’ve had the pleasure to start a partnership with. But since Covid-19 remains strong, I have a lot of free time at my disposal, as I assume most of us do. And my muse has been inspired quite a bit lately, due to having more free time to concoct some ideas. 
 What I am looking for is something original, a story that we can truly call our own. Of course, I drew some inspiration here and there, but the concept is something I haven’t done before. I am not a history buff, nor an expert on mythology, but I’ve done some research on symbolism, legends and ancient tales of gods and monsters. I am always happy to meet a fellow geek who finds similar interests in such matters. :)   I am a huge nerd, aka. a fan of both science fiction and urban fantasy, specifically horror and the supernatural. However what I am not looking for are, slice of life plots, nor do I particularly fancy heavily smut-centric narratives. A good balance of multiple elements is paramount, however, I’d like to strongly emphasize that this will be an adult RP. And it will be heavily focused on complex characters, character development, horror, psychology, carnal desires, violence, conspiracies, and intrigue The plot:

Absolute power doesn’t always corrupt. Power can cleanse. But it does not change a person, rather, power reveals… In the end, Gods and Monsters are one and the same.

Since the beginning of human history, the idea of godly beings, spirits, and monsters have both fascinated and terrified mankind for millennia. But what if some of these legends were actually true? Would that mean humankind had already encountered otherworldly beings? And if so, what kind of effect did it have on our species? This question has plagued many scholars, leading to specific groups to create cults, organizations, and brotherhoods that became infatuated with the idea of becoming gods themselves. An underground organization, derived from a fanatic esoteric cult, dedicated their cause to research on ancient artifacts, tombs, and ruins, with their goal to ultimately create a new superhuman species that will rule the world. They are publicly known under the guise CYPHER, a corporation that focuses on the scientific exploration of medicine and the improvement of human health. However, this only serves as an act to smokescreen their true nefarious purposes. As they finally come across a tangible discovery, they found it was still… somehow alive. And with it, their experiments began, tampering with forces beyond their control, resulting in a terrible catastrophe. Failed experiments were quickly swept under the rug… but couldn’t be kept for too long when hell broke loose. To counteract their ‘mistakes’, CYPHER founded a militant intelligence initiative to make sure all of these monstrosities were either neutralized or brought back to CYPHER’s headquarters. The program was immediately shut down… officially. However, a few split from CYPHER to continue their unethical, monstrous research on an unknown, privately owned island. As the years passed, they continued their ‘conquest’ by creating new experiments. Unwittingly, they awakened an ancient and mighty entity they could not hope to control. It quickly outwitted them, initially traveling across the sea to ‘affect’ innocent lifeforms, infecting and cultivating its influence to gain more ground, but it was not a virus, but a supernatural life-form that exceeded human comprehension and resource. And with it, a successful experiment subject managed to break free as well. 
 This is everything I got so far. I am open to discuss and willing to go into a lot more detail, explaining everything from A-Z, what the initial characters are, what this supernatural entity is, and so on and so forth. Themes that are definitely included are

Violence

Gore

Romance

Drama

Horror

Action

Adult topics (18+)

So if this is not up to your alley, feel free to skim past this ad. Concerning off-limit topics, I am pretty lenient when it comes to certain matters (It is a horror-action-gore based roleplay after all). The things I am not really a fan of are pedophilia, necrophilia, incest, bestiality graphic rape scenes, and toilet play. Other than that, we’re good to go. I roleplay both male and female characters and strongly prefer doubling when it comes to pairing. However, I can make exceptions and role-play in the regular format if I am compelled by good character chemistry. :)   As far as other things go, my partner should be literate and have a basic grasp on grammar. And we share 50-50 of the burden, meaning, we both do the brainstorming and allow both our characters an equal amount of attention. That includes length in word count. Typically I write in elaborate paragraph style format, but I tend to stay away from extremely long replies as they can get a bit too time-consuming Big pet peeves are text-talk replies one-liners! If you message me, we can discuss things in far greater detail, including the plot and how I write. I am really dying to try this out since I have ideas for multiple characters! The idea I’ve pitched goes far deeper than this excerpt, so don’t let it fool you just yet >:) If you seek to message me, please be sure to introduce yourself, how you write, what your preferences are, and so on (absolutely not necessary, but greatly appreciated would be a writing sample). I am a chatterbox, so I love chatting outside of the RP, getting to know my partner a bit more and exchange a few ideas while brainstorming.   We can take our chat to Discord, but I’d rather prefer to have the first message on email before we continue on.  If I managed to spark your curiosity, I’d be more than happy to hear from you :) If not, I hope you have a great day regardless!


My email: aylosreverie@gmail.com

I am looking forward to your message! And stay safe! Best regards -Aaliyah

[deadcactuswalking]

BLAST TO THE PAST: A Critical Look at the ‘It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown’ Soundtrack Album (feat. MKtheInstrumentalist)

Okay so my friend Jasbre told me to review this album and I’m not sure if he thought I had any experience with freaking Charlie Brown specials or anything but he would be sadly mistaken if so because, no, I do not – I have never watched one of these Charlie Brown films except the most recent CGI film, I recall it was named The Peanuts Movie or something but it was a decent film from what I remember; I saw it a few years ago and never bothered to watch it again so I must not have been really all that interested in it or have much reason to rewatch. I probably shouldn’t be reviewing this, I don’t have any experience with this Charlie Brown stuff, man... but I do know someone who does. Okay, hold on, let me get MK on this.

Basically, the album’s just a really terrible edited-down s**tshow taken from the dubbing track of the special, seeing as they don’t have the original masters. – MKtheInstrumentalist

“Edited down” may just be an understatement. Happy Halloween, everyone, and welcome to BLAST TO THE PAST!

It’s not a great soundtrack, Charlie Brown!

So today I will be talking about the soundtrack released only this year to the 1966 television special, It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which is the third of God knows how many half-hour television films they made based off of the Peanuts comics which were created by Charles M. Schulz, with some rude interruptions from MK every now and then.

Excuse me, I’m rude? Didn’t you DM me yelling about Soulja Boy’s Discord server at 3am?

It was an important issue, Max! Geez. Anyway, this particular special was also written by Shulz and directed by Bill Melendez, who actually voiced Snoopy and Woodstock, who from what I can gather, are the dog and the bird that are best friends. The score for the special was composed by the late Vince Guaraldi, who recorded it with his sextet only 10 years before his death. On October 12th this year, the soundtrack was released, and let’s just say some people weren’t exactly all too happy with the result. When MK said it was “edited down”, that’s because it’s a short 20 minutes (only few minutes less than the special, mind you) and very compressed; it’s not exactly all too noticeable but it doesn’t sound as great as it easily could have if they had the masters. I understand that they wouldn’t have the audience to release it when they did have them back in the 1960s and 1970s, but I don’t think much effort was put into this cheap, quick and easy release, which is actually pretty sad because I know a lot of people would want more material, better quality, and all that good stuff, since it’s been decades since and I’m sure you can gather some sort of bonus track or demo, right? I mean the pop music industry doesn’t care about graverobbing, does the animation industry actually have a stick up its—

Stop rambling, there’s an album you need to talk about.

MK, aren’t you supposed to be talking to your Thomas the Tank Engine fanclub? Sorry about that. We might as well look at some opinions from fans on the Internet here. Self-proclaimed “DVD buff” on Amazon.com says the length makes for a lousy LP, and, yes, I agree completely here. He considered adding the Thanksgiving special’s background music to make a more full-length record, and yeah that would have been a better idea, or even add the Christmas soundtrack for extra worldwide appeal, and make a Charlie Brown Holidays album, that would have been nice. As it is, with only barely 20 minutes of music, an introduction from Lee Mendelson, and some stories in the liner notes, it isn’t worth the price of a full-length and is a big waste of money, especially considering that there are lot of songs in the tracklist here that are repeated. There are 17 tracks here, and eight minutes of it is stuff we’ve heard before earlier on in the album. That’s more than a third spent on reprises of compositions, and I know they’d want all the music from the special but when I pay full price for this I expect it to double up as both a good compilation of background music from a respected composer and a listenable album in its own right that doesn’t feel like it’s retreading itself. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to listen to seven non-consecutive minutes of “The Great Pumpkin Waltz” over only six tracks, especially since the first time we heard it, it was three minutes – a perfectly decent length, surely – so we don’t need to hear an extra four, right? Instead of loading it up with reprises how about some extra content, though? How about some extra money, time and effort spent on actually getting the damn masters and making it such a smoother listen?

Oh, who cares about that? How about they remove that awful pseudo-stereo effect that makes everything sound muddy as all hell? As a professional musician—

Oh, please!

Let me talk or I play the lossless audio of “The Great Pumpkin Waltz” on loop.

Okay, now, Max, you might as well shoot me.

Now, going back to what I was saying – as the owner of the largest collection of Secret Show merch, it’s safe to say I’m nerdy enough to be in the main demographic for this release, so you can’t imagine my disappointment when I actually got to listening to this album. Hence, what I have here is a Blu-Ray rip of the dubbing track which is entirely unedited excluding a few minor tweaks to the EQ. It’s not perfect because it also has some of that crappy pseudo-stereo effect, and it may sound a little weird, but otherwise it’s much better, and is not nearly as bad as what they did to the album.

And where can we listen to that version, MK?

Well, there should be a MEGA link for you to listen and download at the end of this review.

Oh, this is the end of the review. If anything, you’re just wasting my time and padding out the length of this review by holding this up and not just posting the link.

Well, with that attitude, maybe you don’t deserve the high-quality audio.

Max, it’s a Charlie Brown soundtrack album. Just give us the Goddamn high-quality pumpkin waltz!

What’s the magic word?

I’ll tell you a couple magic words in a minute.

Well, yeah, that’s what I asked.

That’s not what I meant, and I know it. Do you want me to lodge my fist through this laptop screen and get the album myself?

How in the hell are you gonna—

https://mega.nz/#!R6xCDaAR!2C6G9Ak9EyOEiMOs_Vn8GQxCRA0Ua_oKTDgYBfO-xyw

Oh.

If you’re disappointed in this album like we are, just click the link above and I imagine you’ll have some of your problems fixed. Thank you for reading, and we’ll see you next time! Except this moron won’t, because he’s never going to be on this show again.

Well, that was uncalled for.

Oh, go eat a Secret Thing, Max. Bye, everyone!