#i havent even started two of the paragraph

[mickie-rosebud]

I'm not even a theatre major wtf

[silverislander]

i'm so fucking tired man i really am. barely did half the work on this paper i needed to do today and i just feel so fucking useless

[all444miles]

— JERSEY LUV PT.3

— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: fluff, barely suggestive — summary: the attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: I HAVENT POSTED IN A WHILE N IM SORRYY, i lowk got writers block n just couldn’t be bothered, but SHES BACKKK AND TYSM FOR 800?? RAHH ILYASM !! this is lowk a bday present for me (its my bday when this posts) but ANYWAYSS enjoy! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

part 1 part 2 !

MILES MORALES that cuddles and kisses you almost immediately after he’s come back after a long day of missing you (he’s always missing you.)

“Princesa, I missed you like crazy. Now c’mereee, lemme kiss you.”

MILES MORALES that matches his jordans with you. Whether you're a jordan person or not, you’re putting it on with a matching bapes hoodie, and you better not crease em 😭🙏🏾

MILES MORALES that sends voice notes instead of messages. You two could just be talking through text and he just randomly sends a voice note. Do you fold? Absolutely.

MILES MORALES that kisses your hand when you two are out on a date. What can I say? He’s a hardcore romantic.

MILES MORALES who told his mama all about you (he is whipped) when you two first started dating, and when you first came over his mom was sure to let you know.

“So you must be Miles’ girlfriend? ¡Habla tanto de ti!” (He talks so much about you!) “Mama, please–” “He always goes on about what stuff you like, and how gorgeous you are, it’s so sweet.” “Mama, me estás matando ahora mismo.” (Mama, you are killing me right now.)

that cuddles and kisses you almost immediately after he’s come back after a long day of missing you (he’s always missing you.)

“Princesa, I missed you like crazy. Now c’mereee, lemme kiss you.”

MILES MORALES who’s love language is words of affirmation. This man is all about telling you how much he loves you, and he’ll write paragraphs just to show how much he does.

MILES MORALES who has you as his wallpaper. Honestly, he has you as his everything.

MILES MORALES that pokes his tongue into the corner of his mouth when he’s trying to think. He does so much that he doesn’t even realise he does it. You do though, and it makes you weak every time.

MILES MORALES who does act tough in public, but behind closed doors, he’s the kind ets all sad when you don’t greet him with a kiss.

“¿Ay, qué hice, mi vida? I ain’t gettin’ a kiss today? Did I get you mad?”

tagslist: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @hiimayee @onginlove @laylasbunbunny @arielliio @milesmolasses @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @whitejasmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart @m4rihrts

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[partycatty]

professor!kenshi takahashi > again

you just can't seem to do professor takahashi's reading assignments.

warnings: smut kinda? idk ur freaky and so is he

notes: hi guys im sorry i havent been posting, brain went numb after i lost a 2k kung lao fic because god hates me. enjoy a new brainworm!

@crimsonbubble come get yo juice

[ masterlist ]

• professor takahashi was a major asshole, every student on campus whispers about his attitude and ridiculously complicated assignments, particularly his reading assignments. they were long, tiresome, and often so complex in word choice you swear your eyes are crossing. unfortunately, you needed this credit to get the hell out of that school.

• he was presumably indifferent about you, wandering the aisles of the desks with a never-changing scowl. he was pretentious, always clean in a suit. his hair was neatly done and his back was obnoxiously straight. you tried to be mad, but you respected his devotion to his career.

• when he'd assign one of those readings, nine times out of ten you chose to skip it. they were only worth five points, it felt criminal to waste that effort when you could be enjoying college life. what's a few points here and there? it's not like you were studying for a phd like your physics professor, dr. carlton.

• midterms were approaching, grades were set to be due within the week and it seemed to be all crashing down on you. the readings and journals following them were costing you about seventy points that could easily bump your grade up a letter... if he let you submit them this last second.

• knocking on his office door, you hear an immediate groan and shuffling. his dress shoes clacked against the floor before he opened up. his height was alarming at such close proximity and you found yourself dizzy under his scrutinizing glare. the glasses on the bridge of his nose jump as he scrunches.

• "it's after office hours," he states, eyes shooting to a clock on the wall behind you. "3-7. it's on the syllabus."

• "i—i know, but—" for the first time, you found yourself stuttering in front of him. "i didn't have the t-time to do the assignments and i was hoping you could take them before the end of the week...? i'm sorry, i know this is sudden—" his large hand raises itself, putting a spell on you to stop talking just as quickly as you started.

• "you're missing fourteen of them," his voice is low and cold. how did he already know how many you were missing without checking? it takes a long time before he sighs and steps to the side, eyes inspecting your every move. "we... could probably knock a couple off if you need the help." ...we?

• swallowing, you step into the small office. you never really noticed a distinct smell on him, but the faintest cologne and his natural musk fogging up the room made you suppress a whimper of surprise. he squeezes past you to get to his desk, and you try to ignore the brush of his touch against your waist as he subtly moves you to the side. you feel trapped in this room, backing into a corner and fidgeting with the dead skin by your fingernails.

• he shuffles papers around on his desk, retrieving the printed copies of what you're missing and slapping them on the desk. you jump, trying to back even further into the corner you had buried yourself in.

• "don't look so afraid," somehow his harsh tone offers a smidge of comfort. "it's not rocket science." he beckons you over with two fingers and your insides curl.

• the passage is long and aggravatingly complicated just from a glance, the backside of the page being a few short answer questions. professor takahashi stands close behind you, forced into closeness from how much his desk was positioned against a wall. you hear him try to stifle his breathing but each small gust on the back of your ear made reading all the more impossible.

• your eyes skin the page, lips trembling as you mouth the words on the paper. just as focus overtakes you on the final paragraph, your professor's sultry voice grumbles in your ear.

• "what did the curtains symbolize?" he gruffly asks, tapping a finger on the first question. you stutter over your words, in a blind haze you couldn't even recall the mere mention of curtains in the writing. you swallow thickly, trying to pull an answer from your ass in typical student panic.

• "concealing true thoughts?" you wince, ready for his disapproving tone to burn your ear. instead, the tense air is cracked through when professor takahashi slams his hand palm-down onto the desk, making you whimper in surprise.

• "again," he groans, already frustrated with your ignorance. "and get it right this time."

• how were you able to focus like this? it was cruel. it was sick, and you wouldn't be able to tell that kenshi agreed with your panicked thoughts from his stone cold expression. he was just thankful you had just enough wiggle room to not be pressed against his aching boner through his slacks.

• you swallow thickly, eyes fluttering over the passage again in a haze. this was too much, you should have just failed instead of participate in whatever this was. "the barrier between private and public manners?"

• kenshi groans again, head dropping in frustration and nearly putting his head on your shoulder. you tense up, his hot body feeling like too much and he's not even touching you. something about a big, authoritative man telling you what to do was getting you going... damn you and your late night assignment recovery plan.

• professor takahashi raises his head again, rolling his shoulders as he tries to keep himself together. his eyes glance downward, and he looks down his nose at the sight of you rubbing your thighs together ever so slightly to relieve the tension. a chuckle is pulled from deep in his throat, amused by your small figure and just how caged you were in this situation. he had all the positioning to... no, he shouldn't think that way.

• something ugly and disgustingly horny tugs at him anyway and pulls a swift movement. professor takahashi swings his thick leg between yours, parting your thighs and forcing you to stand with your legs further apart, pulling all satisfaction from you the moment it started. the smoothness of it all sends your heart into overdrive as you try to make sense of his motion.

• you're too afraid to turn back and look at him, to ask what he's doing. you can't, it's too much to ask of you. your legs are weak and knees are buckling, so you attempt to subtly rest your weight onto his desk with your elbows, unintentionally(?) bending over his desk.

• you feel his body loom over yours, and he manages to position his leg just right to press flush against your ass. his torso bends down, just barely above yours, just barely pinning you to the wood.

• "innocence," he answers the assignment question lowly, his brow twitching desperately. "purity... shame."

• his words tug at your core. "oh."

• kenshi wonders if he should pull away, if this was too much, if you'd run away the moment his grip loosened... but you show no ounce of disagreement to the predicament. if anything, the shake in your body and the emanating heat from your cunt through your bottoms told him you needed this... maybe even more than you needed this grade.

• testing the waters further, his fingers dip into the sides of your waistband, tugging the fabric away from your hips curiously. if now was your time to decline his advance, you certainly wouldn't have taken it. involuntarily, your ass presses against his thigh in anticipation, a motion that makes him jolt in surprise. no words are being exchanged, yet your heat was telling him all that he needed to know.

• "question two," he mutters, eyes transfixed on your back. "in the main character's dialogue during the theater scene, who was he speaking to?"

• this question came to you easy even if your mind was escaping you. your voice is weak, barely there enough to answer. "the audience."

• "which one?" his growl makes you yelp as he tugs on your waistband, pulling you impossibly closer. your clothed pussy was just barely able to rub against his thigh.

• a hot breath escapes your lips, why he's torturing you like this is beyond you. "the—the real audience. us." a reward was given as kenshi pulls your bottoms to the floor, letting them pool at your ankles to give him a display of how soaked you got through your panties. he takes a sharp intake of breath, unable to stop his hand from dragging along the fabric or diving in straight away... no. you wanted this, you had to earn it.

• his lack of response but delight in touching you was confusing. your head drops in embarrassment, hiding the heat creeping up your face. "was... that right?" professor takahashi only replies with a hum, tilting his head to inspect your arousal further.

• he dives right into the next question, just as hungry as you were without admitting it. "what was the meaning behind the title?"

• you part your lips to pathetically guess, forgetting the passage had a title to begin with. your eyes are glassy, the words nearly impossible to distinguish. you want to cry by now, needing both a grade and something, anything to relieve what he's not providing you with. all you can sputter out in a shameful "i don't know."

• "yes you do," he really hopes so as he pulls your panties to the side, fully exposing yourself to him. he prays to god you know the answer, then he'd be able to take what he wants, fuck you into how he desires. he considered himself a pervert, a sick and twisted individual that shouldn't have the job he does. but seeing the way you ache and writhe for him assures he's right where he belongs. "think."

• you can't, you honest to god can't. your mind and body are fully disconnected, unable to access any cohesive part of your thoughts that would either tear yourself away, push yourself in deeper, or just completely shatter. his voice was pulling you apart, and in hindsight, maybe it always has. maybe he was just so alluring during his lectures you found it hard to focus on the work in front of you.

• a belt buckle clinks behind you, a sound that makes you clench onto nothing. kenshi frees himself, one hand squeezing the base of his cock and the other one pressing your back down, bending your body into a 90 degree angle. a mortifying wet slapping sound shocks your body as he taps his shaft against your cunt, your juices sticking and stringing in connecting threads each time he pulls away. your mind runs wild, wondering just how big he is, if his face is flushed or cold as always, but even still you dare not turn around.

• "again," he instructs with a huff, breath escaping him as he tries to regain his own composure. you're tearing him apart just as much as he is to you. "read it — hhh — again." the hand on your back trails to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding your sight back to the passage. through fluttering lashes, you manage to get a clear image of the text, racking your brain for an academic response when all you can focus on is his tight grip and heat from his cock.

• "s'a reference," you sputter out, hoarsely. "to the... irony."

• "of?" you can hear the smirk as he notches his tip into your entrance.

• "the... character's... fuck—" you pound a fist onto the desk, back arching and attempting to fruitlessly bounce back onto him, something he wouldn't permit just yet. "the main character's thoughts and inhibitions..." you try to crank out an answer as you clench your eyes shut, chasing your potential reward. "how good of a man he claims to be when he's just as evil as the villain." you speak so fast you're afraid professor takahashi misheard you, or was displeased with your tone. his silence is deafening and you feel tears prick at your eyes.

• you whine at his silence, but before you could cry his name out in frustration, his hand curls around your head and slaps against your mouth, pressing firmly to stop any noise from escaping.

• you feel like a wet, silenced, needy dog with the way he handles you, demanding and controlling the situation in a cruel and torturous manner. it makes you sick, he makes you sick. it's a terrible awful desire to want to be stuffed full of a professor, one you paid to teach you, and all he's teaching you is how to behave like a toy.

• as you near the verge of fighting back, a firm knock echoes on your professor's office door. a feminine voice pours through, authoritative and with obnoxious intent.

• "mr. takahashi," the calls through the door. "the board wanted your approval for the next steps we discussed in last week's meeting. is now a bad time?"

• his cock still pushing against your entrance, he clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, standing straight. "not at all," he replies nonchalantly, feigning innocence behind a thin wooden door. "one moment, if you could."

• she approves and you hear her lack of footsteps — she's right outside of the door. in one swift moment, kenshi discards the assignment, hoists your bottoms back into place nearly making you jump in the process, and cramming his dick back into his pants. you want to cry, whimper for any sort of guidance, internally laughing at yourself for suddenly needing his attention and help instead of being the aloof student you typically were.

• professor takahashi nods his head toward his desk, and you understand immediately — crouching down and tucking your legs against your chest, you bury yourself underneath his office desk and hold your breathing, trying to calm your racing heart... tonight has been a lot for it.

• he clacks toward the office door, swinging it open. you can only catch the faint noises and changes in lighting as they move about the office. kenshi's sure to circle back to his desk and sit down, giving his coworker no opportunity to join his side of the room.

• your breath is held tight as they talk about office jargon, words you're too afraid to hone in on in case you get spotted. you try to focus on the faint stripe pattern of his slacks, the tapping of his foot as he intently listens to the muddy words.

• "i must admit, tonight's a busy one for me," he bluntly admits to the woman, shifting his hips in his seat. "i've got a lot to catch up on, a lot of grades to fix. if you don't mind, it would be best for the both of us to put a pin in this and come back tomorrow morning." a polite smile graces his stern features, one you can yet again hear in his tone. your heart flutters at the thought of being alone with him again.

• "i'm at a crossroads here," the woman sweats, nervously chuckling. "we were hoping to do a late follow-up meeting after your approvals... as soon as our conversation is done. they're all waiting in the board room."

• professor takahashi audibly groans, leaning back in his seat. you take the brief moment of adequate lighting to smirk at the sight; his cock was still raging and angry from denial, pushing hard against his slacks. he was dying inside.

• "if we must do it tonight," he draws out his tone, standing abruptly. "alright."

• your stomach drops at the thought, cunt aching and drooling for more after getting only a taste. you wouldn't be able to sleep, eat, function until you're able to be split in half by his dick. fuck the assignments, there's something else you want to chase now.

• and you wish you could chase, frowning as you see them both leave the room, kenshi stock-still as always just as you peer over the wood to ensure you're free to escape. tonight was a disappointment all around, and not even five minutes on your walk back to your dorm your phone pings, a new email sitting in your inbox.

just now - ktakahashi@school.edu

subject: office hours

thank you for reaching out for after-class help. my office is open anytime if you need anything from me. i'll be expecting you tomorrow to start.

[iloveslllycatss]

## "𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘"

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ! 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘔𝘓 𝘏𝘈𝘉𝘐𝘉𝘛𝘐 𝘕𝘈𝘋𝘖𝘖𝘕 @sttarzxx 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬, the paraghraph text and response to it was copy and pasted from me and the dude this happened to me withs chat......... 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 2 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘋𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌 (𝘫𝘬)

"im gonna do it. im gonna text him."

you were on vc with your best friend. for context, you had a crush. a MASSIVE crush on a boy named robby. you had liked him for 2 years now, the only bad thing? you guys were barely friends. you guys had a class together, and he would always talk to you (hed call u weird when u declared you were spiderman.).. all until you left school for second semester. you hadnt seen robby in about 6 months, but you still liked him (attachment issues go hard). u guys used to text, too. itd mostly be u texting with double chats and him replying in a dry way... but u still liked him AHAHA, so 2 days ago.. you asked your friend for his number...

"hey"

you texted, and he replied right away

"hi"

after that, you guys had texted for 5 minutes, asking things like "hru" or "wyd" until he finally said

"who even are u?"

your eyes widened seeing this, and you were a pussy, so you said

"im f/n (fake name)"

you guys, for another day kept texting back and fourth.. the only thing is, you acted like u didnt have a clue who he was, what he liked, and what he did.

"i do karate, i think its cool to have balance in your life and karate gave me that."

..... you already knew that, but you couldnt help but act like u didnt.

it was like u two havent met eachother. but little did u know, he was observant as fuck.

"you know u remind me of someone, u text the same as her. her name is y/n"

he said, and ur eyes widened. u couldnt believe that he had memorized your texting style. but you were a pussy, so u denied it.

a couple days go by and u guys still text, you overthink everything he says and you were starting to think your friends were getting tired of you ranting ab it to them all the time. there was this one time where u two had been talking, and the convo? it wasnt good. at all.

"k"

he said, and you furrowed ur eyebrows...

"WYM K?? THATS LIKE THE DRIEST MESSAGE EVER"

....

"yeah ik"

...... what? you couldnt believe it. was he bored of u already? were u being too annoying? were u just a bother?

your heart sunk, and u felt ur knees go weak. not weak in a "i just folded" typa way, but in a "im gonna kms" typa way.

your thoughts kept flooding with things like "i just annoyed him" or "he doesnt want to talk to me anymore." and you wanted to cry.

you start to rant ab it to your friends, balling ur eyes out as u do, you were in ur head about it, letting it get to you. your hands trembled as u typed about it to your friends. you had always been insecure about your personality, not wanting ppl to see u as too much or crazy. so u finally replied to him.

"ok"

its been 15 since youve been on delivered (or read, he didnt have read recipts on)

u desperately wanted to talk to him so u sent anotyher message

"hihii"

when he replied, you got so happy u forgot about the fact that you were crying about him the night before. but the thing is, he would leave u on read the whole day, and it stressed u out.

everyone had been telling u to just tell him who u were, and to stop being a pussy. hell, even snap ai wasnt on your side. so u write a paragraph, wanting to send it to him

"hi robby, so ive been feeling kinda bad recently for this and i hope u forgive me and that this doesnt ruin our 'friendship' kinda thing going on, basically i lied ab like a couple things and i feel bad IFDJNEJN so uh im y/n (u guessed right kinda craz) and IK I LIED AB NOT KNOWING B/F/N BUT I FELT LIKE ITD BECOME AWKS and stuff, f/n is my online name since ion give my real name out (and its a nickname my freinds call me), im sorry for acting like i didnt know who u were i was just being a pussy difjejfn but the truth is i asked b/f/n to send me a bunch of (school name) numbers and u was like the only person (other than 2 girls) who texted me back and I DIDNT KNWO IT WASS U AT FIRST but when u told me who u were i didnt know how to keep the 'friendship' going (r we friends??? idek atp) nd ik this is gonna make everything awkward and stuff but uh yeah im really really sorry for lying 2 u and i hope we can still b friends lol (ts up 2 u//im coming back next year too so idk if that helps EKJFNEIJNF)"

SENT !

... you were stressing atp, would he block u? would he be dry? would he ghost u? say "oh ok"? call u weird and tell everyone?

you didnt know how to feel, you wanted to cry. you were in ur head about this whole situation and u couldnt help but overthink. so u turn to your best friends, wanting-- no, needing reassurance. they continue to tell u its okay and that he wont break your heart. but you cant help it, that feeling. that feeling of your heart sinking, the feeling of the lump that forms in your throat, the feeling where you just want to feel better. but you cant. you were paranoid. you were tearing up. but you forced yourself not to cry, u didnt wnat to be a crybaby, but u couldnt help it. the tears had already formed and started to fall, your vision fogging up and your eyelashes wet. you couldnt believe u thought ur lifew could be like a wattpad love story. you were cracking your knuckles and picking at the skin around your cuticles, something u did when u were stressed. you then went to bed, hoping everything would be okay.

the next morning u wake up. the first thing u do is check every other social media and dm before his, you had a feeling he was gonna make u cry (again).

when u finally open the text, your whole expression lights up.

"I mean I suspected it and I am personally fine with the lie you told and yea I can forgive u but as you know I am a dry texter"

you were so happy. u couldnt believe it. you quickly change his contact name back from "oh" to "ROBBYYY! <33" and you smiled so big your jaw started to hurt

maybe there was a chance.

@/ilovesillycats

plz dont copy my work 😞

[whywoulditho]

yesterday i sat down to write fanfiction after a whole year and i almost had a breakdown

i'm 19, i just started collage. i'm studying my ass off to get into a double majoring program and also to get a good enough gpa to ensure i can do masters in my dream collage. and i've been stressing so hard about what i do with my time. even though i know in my heart that there's nothing wrong with doing things just for fun i was still subconsciously trying to leave behind "the cringe stuff". so i stopped writing fanfiction. even deleted half of my published works.

at first i felt good about it, because now i had more time to focus on my novel and i could finally become a real author or whatever but for the past year i havent been able to write more than two paragraphs for my wip all the while forbidding myself writing anything else because i had to have left fanfiction in my high school days i was a serious collage student now

BUT FUCKING NO. i've been fucking MISERABLE. because i love writing and i love thinking about my favorite characters and even though my novel is very important to me i don't think im ready to actually make progress on it yet. and why the fuck should i stop writing as a whole just because i'm not writing my novel? who the fuck am i performing this cool collage persona for?? if a friends to lovers slow burn sakuatsu is gonna heal me than that's what i should be writing.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

writer ask!! I have two hypothetical titles for you:

1. "Anywhere you go (let me go too)" from Phantom Of The Opera's "All I Ask Of You"

2. "The stars were made for falling" (Dream Sweet in Sea Major, my beloved)

3. "Twice as many stars as usual" (The Two-Headed Lamb poem I think? something like that. you prob know the title.)

obligatory disclaimer: feel free to modify these a bit, add/take bits away, paragraphs, etc. yada yada. Have fun !!!!! ;)

FIC TITLES!!!!!!!!!! this requires some intense thinking. thank you pep, ypu're making my brain work. hm....

1) getting some desolate vibes from this, especially with its connection to the phantom of the opera. i'd be tempted to write something connected 2 the phantom, but i havent got the knowledge for that (yet). its also giving very them vibesin general. i've given crowley this Thing through my fics where he'll following aziraphale Anywhere, but when its too much, you KNOW aziraphale done fucked up. not sure why i mentioned that but i suppose its an explanation that this is very crowley-esque 2 me. probably a fic where azirphale is being his repressed little self and crowley is trying to help but realizes he needs to make that jpurney on his own . so the idea isnt too solid, but i have a VIBE

2) mmmm there are so many options here TOO. i coulddd say a prefall fic but im not very confident normally to write something from that era. its gotta be something involving crowley being doomed from the start ofc, but in WHAT SITUATION. hmm. i do have a single bullet point about a fic where aziraphale isnt able to warn crowley about the flood in time and it happens without him even understanding what’s going on which is just heartbreaking to me. absolutely deserving of this title tbh. also havr this idea where before the beginning, angel crowley is fucking with time to create an "infinite" star system you could say, after he's had his interaction with aziraphale but has yet to directly asking god his questions. he fucks it up too much and us therefore transported to the Future, where future aziraphale has to hide this guy before crowley finds out (its like a month before season 2). it would be very emotional and probably not very high stakes, but would eventually have both crowleys accept the inevtabilities of their situations and let every run the course. stars were made for falling, indeed.

3) this one was likely the easiest thing to come for me: an au where crowley agrees to be an angel but only on the condition he’s allowed one last night on earth with aziraphale, so he is the two headed calf who will be wrapped in newspaper and hauled to the museum (heaven), but tonight, he is alive and in a random field with his other half. it is a perfect summer evening, just as season 2 was depicted to be—and as he stares into the sky, there will be twice as many stars as usual. it would be a very brief drabble, but ohhh would it hurt. let me try and write a couple paragraphs actually

"Right," Crowley can hear himself say, and surprisingly, he believes everything the angel said. Or he can understand what he said, anyway--the 'old times' were before there was ever a second side. The 'old times' were before the concept of pleasure or selfishness weren't even conceived. The 'old times' were...before they were them.

So yes, Crowley can understand what Aziraphale is saying. He wants to be right, and he wants to love. He wants to be loved. As long as Crowley is Crowley, he cannot have both.

Crowley also knows Aziraphale. If there's a way to have both, he will fight tooth and nail to have them, even if it will only end up hurting them all in the process.

So really, there's only one thing Crowley can do.

And it is going to hurt.

okay not very related to the poem but you KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!! thanks for the ask pep :D

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Hey so. its been a while. I havent had a lot of energy these past few weeks and when I did I didnt really wanna spend that energy on this bad book series, but its the weekend and its been wayyyy too long and I need to finish ACOMAF before shit starts falling out of my sieve of a brain. As always, I am motivating myself with the prospect of contuining to work on a proshot of the takarazuka production elisabeth after this, the 2014 flower troupe one specifically ^-^ or maybe I'll watch a fucked up black and white movie from the 20s thats two and a half hours long, we'll see

Today we're reading chapter 53, the precursor to The most infamous chapter 54. Im not gonna lie, I kinda forgot most of what happened last time. There was a mate reveal, Rhysand was being really pathetic which made him hot to me for the first time in about 600 pages of me knowing him, Feyre was super pissed so they sent her to the mountain cabin to cool off a bit and paint, i think thats it

is it just me or is it kinda weird that Feyre is fantasizing about green grass and flowers and flowing rivers when the NC so far has been defined by being a very wintery place. Like yeah, obviously they have seasons in the solar courts but like, theres a lot of mountains which means a lot of snow, its the most nothern court etc

And Feyre didnt like winter in the first book because she associated it with bad times at the cabin so that makes sense but idk. I feel like if youre retconning her so much already you could easily wrie something about how she actually likes winter now that she has the power to withstand it or something but no, sure, have her fantasize about very spring-y weather in the book where the spring court gets demonized to hell and back why not

'[Rhysand] would give me the money for my shop, for what I was offering would cost nothing. Maybe I would sell my paintings to pay him back the money. Because I wanted to do that under any corcumstance, soulmates or not.' I was gonna write something snarky about Feyre in ACOSF but then it hit me that shes never going to have financial independance from Rhysand ever again and now Im just sad and anxious for her

(sry, im too lazy to translate this whole paragraph rn) '[Rhysand and I would do a bunch of fun stuff that couples do.] Never again someones slave or whore.' Its so wild to me that shes saying all this about the guy who made her his slave and whore MULTIPLE TIMES AT THIS POINT. like hey sarah, do you think your readers dont remember all that? do you think constantly calling back to it will make them forget somehow

Ive seen some people describe this book as gaslighting and honestly, its not even that its just lying. this story is just a bunch of lies that keep contradicting or otherwise disturbing eachother because the person telling it isnt even a good liar

Okayyyyy this chapter was a lot shorter than anticipated can you tell i dont plan these out at all but i dont feel like doing more than this and also while I was reading i got a really good idea for an Anastasia AU for a different fandom im in and I keep getting distracted and I wanna start working on it as soon as possible. And also, I'd like to be focused when I finally read that most infamous of chapters, thank you and good afternoon

[birdybirdnerd]

🖋️"what inspired you to write your WIPs?"

✍️ "when did you get started writing?"

😭"what are the biggest challenges writing your WIPs?"

behind the scenes ask writing game!

sorry for answering this like a week after you sent it, we only just got back to a port with reliable wifi lmao

gonna use fate or a fools errand for this since its currently my only real wip; i have a couple other things im working on but theyve barely left the brainstorming stage so im not counting them, i havent even started real outlines SO

What inspired you to write your WIPS?

my biggest inspiration was @handdrawnfantasma 's magnus archives/ffx crossover clutching a map of dreams! i actually just finished rereading it during my week long isolation while i had covid lmao so fun timing BUT ANYWAYS its so well written, the way it seamlessly weaves the major plot points of ffx with a cast of entirely different characters without sacrificing their original character arcs, i just. its beautiful. its clever. its SO self indulgent and it gave me the courage to do something similar with the characters from pendragon, a book series that is so near and dear to my heart and has been for almost two decades, and ffxii, another game in the final fantasy series that ive been playing for as long as i could hold and manipulate a ps2 controller. thank you for my life

When did you get started writing?

good question skdjfhsdj i couldnt point you to a specific age, but my earliest fic writing memory is probably from when i was in 2nd-3rd grade, i was writing self insert danny phantom fic and excitedly showing it to all of my teachers. no shame whatsoever, cringe has always been dead here.

What are the biggest challenges writing your WIPS?

keeping myself motivated when the rewards center of my brain is so broken. ive partially hacked it by keeping a bag of gummy bears or sour patch kids on hand when i write and eating one every paragraph or so to get an instant hit and try to train my brain that way, and it works to a degree! i still struggle a lot but im getting better after a months long rut

[specialmouse]

I know you just posted paragraphs but do you have more tidbits about your OCs?

I do ofc ofc.. i'll give you everything i know..

davyne and opal arent all that fleshed out tbh like idk their backstories or anything. The script is about davyne realizing no one is watching her sets anymore so she puts blood capsules in her mouth before performing and pretends to cough up blood during dont let me be misunderstood by nina simone. Davyne pretends shes dying and opal posts the video to tiktok and it goes (relatively) viral (idk if tiktok would actually allow something they thought was real blood up there but idk and idk if this would even go viral LMAO), and the next gig she has the bar is completely packed and people are filming. Then davyne does a dramatic monologue, puts two blood capsules between her teeth and bites them then spits into the crowd, and starts lipsyncing to maybe this time LMAO it’s very heavyhanded. I titled it hard pill

The script with maryam and chunxiu are from is called venture. Chunxiu is 36, mixed as fuck because it’s 200 years later but his mom values her chinese heritage so she named him that. He was born on a wealthy space station and had access to the best education. He’s quite conceited and completely unaware of it; he thinks he earned his degree because he was smart, and he is, but it’s mostly because he was rich and had connections. Maryam is from Lebanon, which technically doesn’t exist anymore but the people there carry the name on (is lebanon an exonym? I couldnt really find an answer in the brief search i just did). They are one of the recipients of the rimco intergalactic scholar awards, which is where they take up 100 kids from earth each year based on their “academic promise”; it’s really a pr thing, because no one goes to school anymore. Maryam has been in space for 9 years when the script starts.

basically they go to a planet that's made just of a gelatinous clear ocean and a beach made of glass shards, with volcanoes on the seabed. it's like, literally nothing. it's supposed to be a one and done mission, in and out. chunxiu at this point has been to 30 planets to scout for a lack of life and he's getting angry at all of this; he's a biologist, he has a phd, he's meant for more than scanning things and finding nothing! he had actually found something a few years prior, several species of cyanobacteria, and it meant he had found alien life in the universe; then rimco had the laws changed as to what constituted life and it meant that he actually hadn't. so he's incredibly salty about that. anyway chunxiu and maryam have a discussion that reveals their disparate backgrounds and it goes into the ravaging of earth that the corporations have left behind, highlighting chunxiu's (and by extension anyone rich enough to life in space's) ignorance to what the corporations are up to, and have done in the past. they go to sleep, wake up, and it cuts to the pilot sent to retrieve them doing "peer review" (lazily doing their job again)-- and out in the ocean they see this blob creature with eyes like the moon that orbits the planet, and they're like HOLY SHIT LOOK LOOK WHAT IS THAT and the pilot kills it immediately. and theyre like WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU and hes like do yall not know protocol..? oh wait i forgot they dont tell the techies shit. and walks away and theyre left there to be like ohhhh fuck. even if we find it they're killing it and we're not even important enough for them to tell us anything. and that's where it ends but i imagine they'd go on to start a revolution or something idk. havent gotten there yet

sooo about the harrisons... i named cash after cash bundren from as i lay dying by faulkner, silas and celeste were from my great-great grandparents and i named andy that because he wants to go by andrew to seem more manly but everyone still calls him andy. i might change his name to laurie/laurence for the same effect. andy is older than cash but cash was always the more masculine one, he was a massive bully but handsome enough and he got more girls and more attention than andy ever did, who was more sensitive and shy.

andy moved out of the town when he was 23 to new york to become a writer (this was in the late seventies, mind) and while he was able to find work as a journalist, he never really became a published author, and wasn't of much acclaim either. celeste was one of the prettiest girls in town growing up but she didn't have much aspiration. everyone in the town was poor but celeste was even poorer. she married cash when she was 18 and cash was 24; andy was 27 at this point. they had a series of miscarriages for five years straight until they had silas. cash had become a cadet in that time and was working his way up the police force. as soon as silas was born, cash's anger turned into abuse; physical abuse as well as alcohol. andy only came home to go to their great-aunt's funeral (used it as an excuse to get out of doing a pop culture piece he found distasteful; i'll figure out what it would be in 1989 with some google searches, idk). in 1997 cash shoots himself in the head in their garage after a drunken bender, but not before penning a three page letter to andy. the content of the letter is nonsense, blaming everyone in his life for his struggles, saying they (celeste, his coworkers, silas, the child celeste is pregnant with (that's not actually his), the dogs) are of the devil, saying he's fighting against children of satan, etc. andy, who is now in his 40s, hasn't had a major relationship in 10 years and is rather worse for wear. he receives the letter, and uses it as an excuse to visit celeste, who is now widowed. he doesn't see this as him taking his husband's widow, but rather him saving her from a life of single motherhood. the script is celeste and andy talking to each other and it becoming increasingly clear what andy's motives are. the conversation gets more and more tense as his not-so-pure intentions are laid bare to the grieving, over-worked celeste, and she throws him out. as andy drives away, he sees a kid beating up another child in the front lawn of the neighbor's. the kid leaves the other on the ground and makes eye contact with andy as he's come to a stop. it is clear (through dialogue from earlier in the script) that this is silas, and that his father's ways have already been instilled in him. end of script!

[bitegore]

🍄♻️🤔

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “_ + =__”

okay for the sake of my fucking sanity i am NOT going to presume I get any real wiggle room here. or i will do another 400 line proof. because it is fun but oh my god it takes so long.

((Felyx + Taran)(Rex + Haven + Taran) + fake dating)^spite = fireworks

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP(s)

not sure it qualifies as a "wip" because I haven't actually decided to pull it out of the graveyard of abandoned-works out-of-progress yet - call it a wip-aspirational or something lol - but the more I poke at Haven and Taran's actual story the more fun I have thinking about siccing Rex on the two of them. In like 2020 or 2021, so, a good while ago at this point and at a time I'd describe myself as "rusty" I started working on whatever the worst version of a meetcute is (ending in the equation above) lol. If I recall correctly my endgame then was that the three of them would fall into a stable orbit. I think that's kind of silly now. They're not that kind of people.

other scrapped idea, same story: Rex and Taran were meant to get along. That's not happening. It's a lot funnier if Rex and Haven (both deeply, deeply difficult people to get along with who hate accommodating for other people) can find a way to coexist pleasantly but Taran, resident NormalGuy who is extremely accustomed to unpleasant asshole bullshit, genuinely cannot get over Rex's various fuckeries beyond, like, the civility of "I recognize that you are living in my house now because the other person who lives here really likes you, and I don't want to have a screaming match in my own fucking kitchen." I tend to make Rex tolerable to speak to when I write him on his own because it's narratively difficult to use a protagonist who will just spit anything handed to him in someone else's face, but in this particular setup he is actively attempting to get Taran's genuine actual hatred on purpose because he's under the impression that's the goal and he's having fun with it also, so it lets me just make him a huge cunt asshole too which is more fun than having him show any scraps of humanity anyway :D

ok let me come up with something you have actual interest in lol

The Rex & Casey conversation fic I was working on ran into an unrecoverable roadblock (I decided the premise needed work) and has to be restarted in a different place with a slightly different version of Casey (tragic!), so one of the things I had to scrap to keep it rolling is Rex commenting on the color of the sky. It's really sad for me because I always think it's funny when you have a guy In a hell dimension like "damn... this place is weird.... the sky isn't bright red, it's eerie". But I can't justify The Story bringing Rex into The Real World as a Plot Element now that I know more about how it works, so I

......

Aha. Well. Actually. I can't justify Alan using The Story to bring Rex into The Real World, because I know how he works. Might have fixed my opinion on my own premise.

We'll see, I'll sleep on it. It needs to cook longer anyway. I also realized (aw2 spoilers) (for serious) (skip this paragraph now if you havent at least finished the first run of the game) if it happens in The Story In The Real World it's got to be situated between Saga's first time going through the loop with Alan and the Final Draft, but I still haven't found enough time to watch t full playthrough of Final Draft, so I'm sure when I hit Zane's part in there and then endgame I'll know a bit more about the direction I want to take.

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet

Anything like that I have, either it's so busy being a concept I cannot write it yet, or I've started it just to make sure I won't forget it XD so it's hard to come up with. And most of the concepts are less "this is the kind of story I want to write", so much as "this is the kind of effect I want it to have". You know. I want to write something ~mind-bending~ or I want to ~do talking animals but cool~ or whatever.

A lot of words to say I'm drawing a huge blank on this question.

I think - and this is something I keep approaching with different stories but not leaning into, because, frankly, I'm the first line of concept-check for myself, and i get bored - I'd really like to try a story that works as one extended record-scratch. You start at the very end, in a scene that means basically nothing to anyone, and then in the events of reading the entire rest of the story you get more and more context until the very end of the book is the exact same scene as the first part, like, down to the description, and then it just loops infinitely. Something you could read spiral-binding style so it doesn't really have a "start" or an "end", just points between chapters with cardboard so you can close it anywhere, if it's a physical book. you know, some experimental shit.

Unfortunately I find time loops boring as hell to write. This would be ONE loop, so it'd maybe be better, but I'm still kind of burnt on being willing to touch another timeloop from how badly I did not enjoy the one I wrote for an exchange like two full calendar years ago. And also I do have other things to be doing.

That's also not a story! That's a plot structure! I might as well say I want to write The Hero's Journey for all it really tells you 😂 at my heart I'm a parodist, I'm going to need to see someone do it wrong and decide to do a better job than they did to really get a fire lit for an actual narrative here. I do love me some themes of insurmountable stupid bullshit you put yourself into on purpose because you decided you could surmount it and then discovered you couldn't, and some futile attempts at some stupid shit for retroactively-really-dumb reasons that weren't worth it, so it'll have that. as seasoning. because what is a permanent stable timeloop but one person committing suicide over and over? I'm only really able to approach the properly frozen-in-sequence ones as either Hand Of God (boring) or Sunk Cost Fallacy On Steroids (fun! interesting! miserable in a slightly unusual way!) so...

....well, it's going to have to keep simmering, because I like what I've got in the broth, but there's no meat in there yet, only spices. It would make a terrible meal right now. But it answers the question, I think.

[rarepairnation]

LOLL i was gonna start like ‘hey there im denethor anon’ but u beat me to it. SIMILAR MINDS. Haha i read one of ur fics, was immediately smitten & was like i MUST follow them. (I’m glad i did, love the vibe of ur blog and the Flavour of ur opinions.. TASTY) so im a more recent follower but i’m gathering younger you weren’t a fan of denethor, huh? Can’t say i blame you. PJ certainly made some Decisions. he was like how do i convert a complex character into The most loathsome creature ever. He really did our fav gondorians sooo dirty. I literally watch through those scenes SEETHING in rage.

So I’ve been Thinking about denethor and faramir and nothing else for two days. like i am a denethor girlie. in my mind. spiritually. haven’t posted much abt him on tumblr. but nowww. you’re exactly right, ‘denethor Is a good leader…[insert ur paragraph here]’ yes yes yes you get it. listen denethor was a prideful, angry, resentful man but he was also valiant, resilient and noble. He guarded his city, alone (which takes GUTS, again, he was a badass!!), so well, for literal YEARS that Sauron was fearful/wary of him. i wish people were more understanding of him. he’s such an interesting character there’s so much to explore there. as you said the duty-vs-love, the weapon-first-person-next of it all. the layers. denethor as a weapon. denethor as a symbol of both sword/shield. AAHHH

BUT i think some people dismiss him hate him bc he is the mirror (the ugly side? if that makes sense) of humanity, of us. we ought to show him some compassion tho ‘cause havent u ever been taken under the darkness of life? felt the world slipping away & struggle to keep up w it? dont u ever feel hopeless? that things will never change, no matter what u do? DO YOU HAVE FEARS HAVE YOU FACED THE MONSTERS? WERE YOU ALONE, SCARED AND HOPELESS? AND HAVENT YOU MADE MISTAKES IN YOUR GRIEF AND PUSHED PEOPLE AWAY?? THAT’S what denethor experienced. He was described as a leader & a learned one at that for christ sake. He knew that evil was awaiting him and his kin and his people! he saw his future. yet. yet he soldiered on until. war declared. his sons killed (or so he believed). that’s when hope abandoned him. what was the point of staying alive now anyway? Evil was upon them, they would surely be tortured w a fate worse than death, so why should he not end the pain and kill himself? he fought the war against Time, Evil and The Dark Enemy himself and WON. he was a brave man indeed, to have fought these dark forces so much stronger than him. but he finally lost the war against Despair (and Grief), the cruelest of them all. imma cry 😭😭😭 no no no u don’t understand he didnt give up hope, hope abandoned him he- [GUNSHOT] (i don’t know how much of this even made sense lmao) anyway,

Faramir <333. do i even have to say anything about faramir? he’s the specialest little guy i love himm 🥰. On god i am one step away from rereading lotr just for him (plsss dont tempt me finals are in less than a fortnight) his and denethor’s relationship like u described my godddd XDD. fucked up familial relationships MY BELOVED. i am feral about this trope. the resentment… the jealousy… the mirror image of each other… the you’re-the-same-like-me-and-i-hate-that… mmmhm. hey do u ever think about 12 year old faramir admiring his father much the same way he did boromir and wishing he would grow up to be just like him? and do you ever think about 28 year old faramir knowing that he’s more like his father than anyone else and hating that? hating him? i do.

I’ll stop now lol im afraid my coherency has diminished by now. also sorry sorry for replying so late i am preparing for my exams. but rest assured i WILL be Rotating faramir around in my brain :3

hiiii denethor anon LOL this is the greatest ask ive ever received. every day i endeavour to provide only THE juiciest of opinions. aka this is my diary and you all are subjected to it. anyway im so glad you liked my fic i would love to know which one you read! i got into lotr via the films when i was super young so my past opinions were def coloured by The Choices. i have learned and grown since then<3 i was watching the book-to-film analysis vids on the extended edition dvds a couple weeks back and it made me so mad that i had to get up and turn off the tv. did you know there are other character options besides 'paragon of virtue' and 'one dimensional villain'...truly kind of a "nice dichotomy idiot! now what lies outside of it" situation. A Waste Of Your John Noble, To Be Honest. idk i still hold the films very close to my heart but the choices...i will simply respectfully disagree. and dont even get me started on faramir we WILL be here all night. another time. i have denethor thorongil situationship-fic to write. (i am serious about that) (i was simultaneously playing it 100% straight serious AND kind of joking about them. i shouldve known better. well.........we are so in it.)

you are so real for this. i have ALSO been Thinking about denethor and faramir and nothing else for days. weeks, even. sorry to everyone coming to the faramir goes to rivendell au for faramir and the fellowship the first 10k is literally just Keeping Up With The Stewards. we'll get there. i Will blame you for the impetus for my recent denethorposting on main but also encourage you to also do this. do whatever you want forever<3 nooo but straight up...guy who has so much strength and will that The Lord Of All Evil wouldnt contend directly against him and had to bring out the big palantir guns to bring him down. and if he'd not lost both of his sons i mean...who knows what would've happened. sometimes your sons ARE the only thing keeping you from killing yourself Do It For Them-style and lets be real that is a valid coping method. (i don't have an answer for that one and boy oh boy do i wish i did. it is going to become a massive thorn in my side in, oh, 70k or so when i hit rotk. well...i will blow up that bridge when i get to it.)

im actually putting a read more in this time bc this post broke a thousand words. continue at your own risk. there IS also faramirposting at the end here i promise.

just imagining denethor leading the siege of minas tirith. um. now stay with me here...riding out with imrahil's sortie. STAY WITH ME HERE. what do you think the livery of a steward going to war looks like. jesus christ i need to go lay down. yes i purposefully placed the read more before i decided to go momentarily horny on main. its also lowkey very vague au spoilers. sorry everyone but denethor IS canonically hot and we need to acknowledge it. Anyway.

denethor as a weapon denethor as both a sword and a shield...i am chewing glass for real. you GET IT. god i love person-as-weapon metaphor soooo much. When The Iconography Is Getting A Little Too Real. denethor as gondor, as her vanguard and standard-bearer and. i am straight up frothing at the mouth. all he ever wanted was to be a gentle lord in a time of peace.....and death was his reward...Sorry For Stealing The Fingon Death Quotation But I'm Right. so much of his behaviour and the strain on his relationships with his sons and all that is sooo...informed by the fact that to cope with having to be lord of a country at war he had to be so so unbending. he couldn't allow himself to waver, ever, not even for love, not even to save his sons.

did you know he was 21 when sauron returned. pov you are 21 years young and you have been alone all your life you are the steward's only son you are his strange numenorean heir and no one else has the LITERAL PSYCHIC POWERS AND VISIONS that you do and you have had to contend with that, alone. master your own mind, alone. learn how the shape of politics and lordship and life bends around you. and the dark lord the enemy who brought down your forebears has now set his eye on your lands again. Jesus Christ. How Would You Fucking Deal. sorry i would have a nervous breakdown and go and live in the desert. Man. TWENTY ONE? LIKE ME? most days i feel like a teletubby with a job and a credit card. if you scale it to account for numenorean lifespan inflation i mean i don't know how the math works but like. i bet it comes out to being like. 17. HELLO? basically everyone i know was barely a person at 17. the dark lord of all evil and he's MY problem to deal with?

i mean exactly. haven't we all been prideful and angry and resentful. haven't we all been there. once again [pippin voice] let's all understand poor denethor a little better. havent you ever been taken under the darkness of life [your paragraph here] yeah exactly what you said. the idea that he fucking won the war against the darkness and only lost to despair is..........so much! goodbye i have to go cry!

faramir, me AND fate's most special precious little guy....oh captain my captain....exactly. Exactly. i cant morally endorse a reread right this second but like. After. make it through finals and then it is Faramir Time. (and good luck! you got this!) tactical smartass little bitch master of both man and beast wizard's pupil (complimentary) star and hope and jewel of minas tirith knight in shining armour...my beloved. the idea that like faramir as presented, as the diplomat, as the scholar, as the numenorean, was supposed to be the one to go to rivendell...it haunts me. where is denethor sends the right son to do the right job.txt. he is gondor's no. 1 horse girl he is better suited to the wild than the battlefield he has read every sindarin text in the library he KNOWS the story of elrond and elros. he is literally telepathic and psychic and prophetic. thinking about him interacting with elrond and galadriel (and every other elf. but them in particular) makes me feel deranged. its very...self taught dnd wizard meets guy who went to wizard school energy. he's insane.

YEAH ITS CRAZY THAT THEYRE THE SAME GUY. it's. boromir gets to be boromir but faramir has to be denethor.txt. gracious and lordly as a king of old...now who is consistently referred to as noble and kingly...that a younger faramir would've looked up to...yeah. the perpetuation of denethor's second-best complex. i have a whole nother post in the drafts about that i CANT get into it here but jesus christ men who are NOT breaking the cycle. they even look the same. i mean 37 year old faramir as steward is 100% the spitting image of his father and that makes me....genuinely fucking insane actually. i mean like older councillors are doing double takes every time he walks by. i mean like sometimes people call him by the wrong fucking name. WOW where did that come from. the complex that that would give him...hello? turning this over inside my brain at WARP speed.

you are not late at all lol we are leaving little letters in each other's mailboxes to read when we have the time. i hope your exams go well!!! there will be more Faramir And Denethor Hours soon<33

[asbestieos]

we used to be friends, way before, and like, wow, youve gone so far, proud of you

🥹🥹🥹 oh my goodness!! anon if youre who i think you are (i am somewhat confident in my silly hunch), im so happy to know youre still out there even if we dont talk anymore!!! admittedly i have the most terrible memory ever so i barely remember much of our time together (i wish i remembered more!! but as is, i cant even remember the last time i showered lmfao) but since its been such a long time, i hope its ok if i give you a Riley Life Update of the past.. two, three years? <- it feels like it has been longer than that 😭😭

2020!! i graduated!! i enrolled in school! i girlslayed hard! however due to World Events, i cant go to school in person and am relegated to online classes in my room </3 unfortunately im also in the deepest depths of my genshin phase and ran both my own And denver’s acc. sometimes i paid for her acc’s battlepass too it was bad DBDKBFJ

2021! girlslaying starting to fail from burnout and severe depression from being shut in! i passed my first semester exams with flying colors! i failed all but one of my second semester exams. also come january im both afflicted with covid and experiencing a bad bed bug infestation. #girlsuffering. i dropped out in the summer ^_^ this is when the terrible moodswings hit (i thought they were moodswings but as it turns out, i was incredibly emotionally unstable!! more on this later)

2022!! last year oh my gosh! denver and jasper/moth and i started talking about moving in together, which requires me to have money of course. so aprilish i get a job! i work at starbucks! i girlslay REALLY hard. i also start playing ensemble stars (the beginning of my curse……..). come july i had a massive breakdown and almost broke up with denver and our mutual friend group 👍 it was Bad bad.. but things worked out? <- this experience has led me to believe im probably a bpd haver becos of how wildly unstable i am. fun! crasy asf!

moving plans fall through as summer goes by, im still employed at my job, still havent gotten my license yet but it is ok i will get it soon, and come 2023, moving plans are back on!! hopefully will be seen-through ny the time summer comes…

tldr i have bpd, i dropped out and got a job, im gay a shit over idol bot gacha game, and by summer, ill hopefully be moved in with denver!! yeha those are the important updates! for me at least. randys in college now btw!!! in her sophomore year!! shes incredible truly! she lives on campus so i usually only see her once a month or so but shes literally awesome ^_^

very long update post and i made it all about me 💔 theres history between us that ive unfortunately forgotten and im sad that ive forgotten (then again i could always read back, but every time ive tried, ive only cringed at myself like OOGH is that me?? sickening) but im really glad to have gotten this anon!! if youre not the person i think you are thats okay and also i am sorry i assumed UEGEJVFDJF i needed this i think to try and reflect back on. the crazy ass time my newrly three years of adult life has been.. im 21 in july!!! crazy as hell!

i also hope the formatting is ok, i try to break up big paragraphs w/o starting a brand new one for the sake of readability <:] i think i mightbe learned that from you? i dont remember though guwbddjjd.. but i think about you on the occasion as i do with everyone ive ever met ever and im glad to know youre still kicking it like i am.. life is rough a hell 💔

theres not enough words i can say that can make up for not remembering us too well and also for saying and doing hurtful things to you if theres one thing ive not forgotten, its that i was not a very nice person way back when. but i hope now youre in a better place and you have friends who love you just as much as i did and still do!!

i have to go to work but uuwheuehehhehehrhfht thank you for reaching out anon i hope this post was nice to read and feel free to live in my inbox for forever, even if you wanna stay anonymous forever i dont mind! if youre not the person i was thinking of, rest well with the joy that youve given me a moment to reflect on myself euwhhwrh but if you ARE the person i was thinking of. im sorry i hurt you. and thank you!! i love you!! im glad you were a part of my life. i hope your day is good and your tomorrow is better!! live in my inbox if it pleases you!!

EDIT: FROGOR TO SAY IM PROUD OF YOU TOO 👍

[stairway-to-dio]

I think my position is best summarized by a monologue from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.

"Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with the lid on it? Nor do I really. Silly to be depressed by it. I mean, one thinks of it like being alive in a box. One keeps forgetting to take into account that one is dead. Which should make all the difference. Shouldn't it? I mean, you’d never know you were in a box would you? It would be just like you were asleep in a box. Not that I’d like to sleep in a box, mind you. Not without any air. You'd wake up dead for a start and then where would you be? In a box. That's the bit I don't like, frankly. That’s why I don’t think of it. Because you'd be helpless wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that. I mean, you'd be in there forever. Even taking into account the fact that you're dead. It isn't a pleasant thought. Especially if you're dead, really. Ask yourself: if I asked you straight off I'm going to stuff you in this box now – would you rather to be alive or dead?

Naturally you’d prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all. I expect. You'd have a chance at least. You could lie there thinking, well, at least I’m not dead. In a minute, somebody’s going to bang on the lid and tell me to come out. (knocks) "Hey you! What's your name? Come out of there!"

To me the most important part is the very end. Not the last paragraph, but the last half of that paragraph. The part where someone comes knocking asking who you are, inviting you to join everybody outside of the coffin. That can't happen if you are dead.

When my mental health was at it's lowest I was living in a town I didn't really know with zero sense of community and a total of two people I could consider to be friends. I was so mentally unwell that it was affecting me physically, and because my roommate wore noise-canceling earbuds to sleep there were nights where I was genuinely worried I might die and no one would be there to save me before it was too late. It was the single worst year of my life.

Fast forward to right now and im back in my hometown, slowly building a community of people who genuinely care about me and want to see me. People who hug me when I havent shown up to a place in a while. People who ask where I am if Im not home by a certain hour because they want to make sure im safe. People who would take the time to sit down and ask what was wrong if I seemed upset, and people who understand my particular quirks and unique behaviors. And frankly none of that could have been real if I had died. Being dead isnt like being alive in a box. Its not knowing the box is there. Its not having the chance to leave the box. Its not having the chance for the good, hell, even the great moments of life. I think that chance is particularly precious.

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now

[midnighteloquence]

i just wanna talk

uh minor (MINORS!!!!!!!!) vent because im thinking

(mention of sui, sh, purg1ng, etc)

i actually dont know what to feel anymore. i dont really feel much these days except for pure, unbridled sadness. i can feel excited over my interests, but that excitement doesnt really last long till im just nothing again.

ive been getting more frequent stomach aches. not a stomach bug i mean the anxiety stomach aches. theyre here right now actually. ive just been super anxious and on edge recently, and i dont know how to stop the ever growing pit in my stomach. it grows every time i enter a room, when i have to present something infront of my classmates, when someone talks to me, when i text people, when im alone, when im with people. its everywhere and i dont like it.

earlier this term i avoided people because i was just so tired and empty. i hoped that it would somehow make me feel better, if i avoid the person who did me wrong. it really didnt. i didnt give them a satisfactory answer whenever they playfully insulted me because i could not bare to have them insult me one more fucking time. you know what happened? they started saying “ok.” to me saying literally fucking anything. i said “ok” to you dryly because you pissed me off, but if im talking about my interests casually thats nothing to be pissed off about.

i apologised to them for distancing myself (even though i was trying to fix my mental health) and told them i would talk to them more even though i dont like them anymore. the next day they sent a paragraph talking about how i wasnt really “proving myself” and that “they waited for me to talk to them instead of them starting the rare conversations we have” which actually killed me a bit. thats over exaggerating but im trying my fucking hardest to try and be your friend but my best isnt worthy enough. and also when have you ever put any effort into what im saying? like actually if i talk about my interests you say shit like “thats crazy” in a disinterested tone. i may be autistic but i can still pick up that you do not fucking care for a word i say. i actually pay attention, and you tell me im not proving myself to you? im sorry i started ranting haha

i think my crush started hating me. and this is a super common thing with all of my crushes for some reason. i just cant get them to not think im annoying. i just get so attached to them and the thought of being with them that they just stop liking me. and then i pick up on this and ask them constantly if they like me. he barely texts me anymore, his texts are super dry, its so obvious he doesnt want to talk to me. i started leaving him on read, just hoping he’ll start liking me again. thats probably super immature and slightly mentally unstable of me but idk im sorry

i stopped thinking about my future because i dont think i see one. i spent all week tired, crying in the school bathrooms, crying in my own bathroom, or crying in my room. i post constantly about killing myself or cvtting myself or purging because at this point i do not care what happens to me. my friend might be moving, my other friend im so fucking tired of, my other other friend is probably tired of me, the rest of the friendgroup probably wouldnt care less about me, i havent been the daughter i couldve been to my parents, im distant towards my brother, my crush lives far away anyways and probably doesnt like me anymore. it just seems like nothings really worth it. how likely is it that i get into a good university and get a good job? i dont even know what i want to do with my life past 18. the clubs i joined are just exhausting to go to now, im making no progress in my language learning, i get average scores in my tests, the only two hobbies i have i barely do anymore. its just so nothing

i have no dreams or aspirations, i have no hope for the future of not only me, this whole world. it will take me a hot 48 hours to think of a thing i wanna pursue. no one wants to be in a relationship with me. im pretty but not pretty enough for people to like me, and even if someone’s attracted to me, theres still my personality. its nothing special, plus just a bunch of red flags like jealousy, attachment, being distant, being sensitive, the list can go on. im just nothing really, i feel nothing, my personality is nothing, my looks are nothing, im nothing.

idk what else to say so bye :0) (clown)

[uniformbravo]

it's nanowrimo & i havent touched my wip since last year so im gonna reread it all rn to jog my memory lets goooo

-

"And so, class, as you can see, blah blah blah…"

Silan wasn't listening, so neither should you have to.

i didn't know how to start it skjfdkngkf

-

goes on for several paragraphs about why he wasnt paying attention, making up a bunch of bullshit about him being sooooo sleeby bc he watched a horror movie last night & then couldn't sleep, fascinating stuff

-

So no, he wasn't listening to the lesson going on at the front of the room, nor was he prepared in the very least to be called on suddenly.

"Silan, what's your answer to number fifteen?"

Like a bucket of ice water was sitting upright on the ground beside him instead of upturned over his head, Silan's brain fog persisted as he struggled to catch up with the moment.

ok fine the ice bucket line is kinda funny im here to subvert ur expectations not unlike a mime thats allowed to say fuck

-

"Y equals seven…?" he guessed, understanding completely as he said it that it definitely would have been better to just say "I don't know," or "Could you repeat that?" or even "Sorry, I didn't sleep well because I watched a horror movie before bed and was too scared to fall asleep for hours and now I can't focus because I'm so tired, so I honestly have no idea what's going on right now."

As it was, his actual answer garnered a few laughs scattered around the room, from people who'd given Silan way too much credit and assumed it was a very intentional joke. He couldn't look his teacher in the eye, that knowing gaze piercing right through him as if to say, "You may have fooled them, but not me. I know that was a real attempt at an answer, and I am disappointed in you on multiple levels. I'll see you in my office and also you have detention forever."

What he actually said was, "Mr. Scott, this is a Biology class."

CHRIST i take it back im a comedic genius

-

Chris is A Dude in Silan's class, but he's so much more than that; sports ball player man, wearer of varsity jackets and knee-length shorts of all varieties, copier of his friends' homework whenever one of them has actually done it on time… He truly is just Some Guy, but to Silan? He is The Guy.

WHAT are u fuckin TALKING ABOUT HELLO

-

If Silan himself were to be the one to describe Chris, that paragraph would have probably gone a lot more like: Chris is on the baseball team, so he's fairly muscular; he has a sharp, square jaw and dark brown hair that's not quite long enough to submit to gravity just yet, so it sticks up and looks just sooo fluffy and soft (do you think he lets anyone touch it?). He's never actually grown a beard but he does have stubble across his chin and jaw that suits him extremely well. His eyes are brown and his skin is a natural tan and it all suits him perfectly and he's hot okay. He's hot.

Silan is gay.

and he is being sooo normal about chris

-

They'd only ever spoken a total of two times; once when Chris had gotten the rows confused on a day he'd seemed particularly groggy (this class ran from 10:45 to 12:15 and was the one right before lunch, though, so it was beyond Silan what exactly had put him in such a state) ((I'm the author though, so I know exactly what it was, and it's that he'd been out nearly all night with his friends to the subsequent dismay and rage of his parents, and his request to stay home from school the next day was vehemently denied)),

this is fucking unhinged. publish me right now

-

That had been just a few weeks ago; the other time was last year (junior year, or 11th grade, or year 3 out of 4 of high school, whatever makes the most sense to those unacquainted with the American school system) in April and I will tell you more about it later.

FUCKING HELLO

-

It was the urge to doodle their initials in a heart together in the margins of his notebook like… like some kind of lovesick middle schooler (not that. He'd ever done that. In middle school,).

silan would never

-

The combination made him want to launch himself directly out the window, had one existed (the only windows were over by the door, which Silan sat pretty much across the room from).

He was kinda fucked.

tfw u cant throw urself out the window bc of ur school's evil fucked up floor plan

-

Rhoden, while still fairly small for his age, definitely isn't the same kid Silan met back then. There's a maturity to his jaw, his brow, that he's really come into since, and his voice has deepened considerably; anyone who might still initially mistake him for a much younger boy would be instantly enlightened the second he opened his mouth. And then they'd have to figure out how to politely decline a spontaneous interview proposal from a guy they'd thought was twelve two seconds ago.

when u get within a certain radius of him a giant health bar appears at the top of the screen & boss music starts playing

-

Today, though, was a photography day.

They were always Silan's favorites. He did enjoy his other tasks, in general, but none of them were as fun or freeing as photography.

It made him look at the world around him differently. Taking such a wide expanse of possibility and narrowing it down to that one perfect shot; knowing where to look and how to find potential. It was capturing a moment, but not just that; it was turning a moment, even the smallest, mundanest occurrence, into something timeless- into something special.

(And, of course, there were other perks to the job, but we'll get to those later.)

i am 100% certain said "perks" are getting to Observe chris at baseball practice which is a very funny juxtaposition to the previous paragraph

"photography is a timeless art form, truly nothing as magical or poignant could ever exist.... also i get to look at hot boys cha-CHING"

-

"Silan," she called out now in lieu of a team name, since the work of a photographer was mostly individual.

"I'm, uh, shooting baseball practice today."

😏

-

A few short minutes later, Silan was signing off for the club's camera, which he needed permission for every time. This was one of Mrs. Springet's few roles as an advisor, to make sure the camera wasn't being stolen. It was a nice camera, to be fair.

Oh To Steal The Journalism Club's Nice Camera

-

While Chaulden High did have a football team, the undisputed star of the show was the baseball team; with a coach that led them to victory time and time again, it wasn't hard to see why.

As such, the New Moon always made sure to leave room for a section on the team, even going as far as establishing a series they ran every year called "Dug-Ins & Outs," in which various members of the team were interviewed.

ok still proud of that title TBH

-

Which meant Silan was often sent to obtain shots of the team, which was no problem. Less than no problem. He was pretty fine with it, actually. Perhaps even looked forward to it, some might say.

Because Silan was definitely interested in the team, as a whole, all twenty-six members. All of them, and not a single one more than the rest. He would never single a specific member out to accidentally focus 90% of his attention on. That would be ridiculous, and highly unprofessional of him. Perish the thought.

…

So uh. Chris is on the baseball team,

cups hands around mouth fucken NERD

-

The coach, Mr. Wendell, stood with a clipboard tucked under his arm by the dugout, clapping and calling out to members who were lagging behind in the group of joggers. He always made Silan nervous, if he were honest. He was something of a hardass, with high expectations for his team and a grueling training regimen he held them all to. He had a loud voice and a firm handshake, was broad shouldered and tall, and if Silan weren't so intimidated by him he might even find him [REDACTED].

OK ALRIGHT CALM DOWN THERE BUDDY

-

CRASH!

Just as he clicked the shutter the chain-link fence behind him exploded into sound and he jumped violently, sending all of the birds flying. Heart pounding, he sat up and turned around to figure out what the hell that was.

On the other side of the fence was one of the team members leaning down to scoop up the offending ball as the coach's voice echoed across the field, "Stop fucking around, Neely!"

fucking Neely

-

It took him a good five or six more minutes to calm down, sitting there in the grass and pretending to flip through photos on his camera. This time he made sure to face the fence to avoid a repeat scenario- because of course, Silan was known to have the reflexes of a tiger and wouldn't even flinch were another ball to come hurling at the fence.

jotting this down in my Extremely True Silan Facts notebook

-

He sat on the very top row and zoomed in on the players, scattered across the field. The fence still sat between him and the rest of them, reaching high for maximum audience-shielding ability, so he decided to see how many of the players' heads he could frame perfectly within the open links in a single shot.

His average came out to about four, mostly because it was basically impossible to keep track of any more than that at once, but he did manage to get one with six on accident, so that was pretty neat. It didn't help that they were all constantly moving around- Silan probably would have had more luck trying this with the birds.

He spent about another twenty minutes doing this, occasionally moving to other parts of the bleachers for different angles to see if they made any difference (they didn't; the lower he went the wider the holes got but also the closer together the player's heads became, so it balanced out), before the main event, as far as he was concerned, finally began: batting.

silan: boy oh boy i can't wait to take pictures of the baseball team!!!

also silan: does this bullshit

-

Everyone knew baseball players looked coolest and most iconic when at bat, and anyone who disagreed was simply wrong (second best was pitching, third was sliding). Silan's opinion on this was in no way swayed by visuals of Chris that may or may not have been burned into his memory.

Evidence:

[three pictures of a batter, a pitcher, and a sliding athlete respectively side-by-side, the batter obviously being the coolest most hyped up one with dynamic lighting and stuff, whereas the pitcher and the slider are intentionally lame, like cheap-looking clip art or pictures where they're making really ugly faces]

im gonna lose my fuckin shit (no theres no actual pictures this was just a place holder for when i eventually found & inserted them which i was absolutely planning on doing)

-

He stayed on the other side of the fence, lest a stray ball hit him (or worse, the camera)

TRU

-

He was tall (he had several inches on Silan and a good few on Chris), and he was slender and lean and really quite handsome in general. His thick, curly black hair was neatly shaved close to his head and the corners of his jaw were pleasantly pronounced.

Not that Silan could see any of that from this distance, especially with the helmet obscuring most of it. But as a member of the newspaper club these were things he had to know. For professional reasons.

i believe him

-

He should have been adjusting his position to line up the perfect shot, but it was hard not to watch as Chris rose up on one foot, twisting his torso with his arms raised and clutching the ball- then sprung into action by slamming his foot back down into the dirt and following the momentum with his upper body, arm arcing into a powerful throw. A split second after Silan saw the ball hit the backboard he heard the noise, a loud, solid smack!

God. God.

SCREAMS ALRIGHT SILAN CALM DOWN FKFSKGNKSDJFKD

-

"Make sure you're getting my good side, yeah?" He joked, grinning and striking a stupid pose.

silan watching chris: beautiful. flawless. show stopping. groundbreaking. so so hot and sexy hehehauhaoehemeheuenana

silan watching lucas: clown ass motherfucker striking his goofy ass POSE what an idiot 000/10

-

"Yo," Devon greeted as he pulled himself to his feet, flashing his hand in a pseudo wave.

"H-hi," Silan answered haltingly, heart beating a little fast from the maneuver he'd just had to pull. Devon offered what Silan could only describe as a dashing grin before turning his attention back towards home.

hee hee hee hiiiiiii devonnnn *twirls hair* (silan impression)

-

They rarely talked but Devon had always come off as a nice guy with a friendly vibe. He'd certainly never referred to the newspaper club as Mooners- not that Silan had heard, anyway. Though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did, since the nickname was pretty widespread at this point. But it was nice that he didn't.

Also, he really was quite handsome.

this would have been a very different story had silan gone for devon instead of chris, devon would NEVER pull the shit chris is about to pull in this story fksndkjfdkjg he doesn't even call them mooners 😭

(school newspaper is called the new moon so people call the club members new mooners, an extremely clever & funny joke that i came up with myself)

-

(ok context, silan was gonna take a pic of chris sliding (the team's doing this whole exercise where they alternate from pitching to hitting to sliding) but bc he was so focused on getting the shot he didn't realize the ball was headed right for him so chris collided w him trying to intercept it)

Silan turned around, seeing the coach standing with his arms crossed as Chris examined his elbow. He looked up when Silan moved.

"Thank Christ. That was stupid as hell, you both could've gotten way more hurt." He hadn't even checked if Silan had been injured. "Jumping over another guy like that. We're not a goddamn gymnastics routine."

"But I caught the ball," Chris grinned, holding it up and waggling it around. Silan immediately had to stop himself from asking if he could have it.

LMAO SILAN???????????? DOWN SO FUCKING BAD

-

As he walked off herding the team away, Chris stepped closer to Silan, instantly setting his heartbeat into overdrive, more than it already was.

"Your shoulder okay?" he asked with a gesture towards the shoulder in question, and Silan just about passed away on the spot.

when he checks if ur ok after he ran u the fuck over 😍😍😍

-

Then he looked to the left, in the direction Chris had tossed the ball just a minute ago, at the spot in the grass it had rolled to a stop.

The backboard of the catcher's box announced another missed swing, and Silan picked up the ball, examining it.

The object that had ruined his perfect shot. That had come careening directly towards Silan's head (or worse, the camera). That had resulted in the disastrous collision and subsequent injuries of Chris and Silan. That had wasted precious minutes of Coach Wendell's perfectly scheduled practice regimen.

He tucked it neatly away into his hoodie's front pocket and took a seat on the grass right where it had been.

STOLE THE FUCKING BASEBALL this is unhinged behavior and also exactly the kinda shit i would've pulled in high school 10/10

---

uhhhhhh that was chapter 1 and i feel i should perhaps stop here for now since this is getting like way longer than i thought it would lfksndlfmdkgj the whole thing is like. 30k ish words? i feel like i wrote about 3 or 4 chapters

i like. shoulda done this shit a few days ago so i could start writing again today (the 1st) but i was too busy drawing heehee uhhh whoopsieee >w<

its ok its fine this year i will make it to 50k easy peasy dont even worry abt it ;3 i will definitely not go back to drawing today that would be sooooooo silly and goofy of me hahaha :)