#i havent even stuck them in the same room yet

[renewingfire]

[another inspo to add: T.ohru H.onda]

[i think a couple of inspos for Pace have become V.ash and A.ang. a mix of other things too, but moral-wise Pace is kind of very along the same lines as them]

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: somehow, somewhere, cole caulfied gets yn to go to his end of the summer party down in michigan. it works in her favor due to college starting back up. pt.5

series masterlist

“no fucking way, cole.” you said into the phone, sitting at the island of your brother’s house. the sliding door nearby was open, sending small gusts of wind in, causing you to shrink closer to your body.

“oh come on, please!” cole whined from the phone. cole tried his hardest, but if he tried his hardest, his party would not be held, on the hughes property.

said party will also have jack hughes— and even trevor zegras.

“cole—“ “no come on, y/n, i havent seen you in forever. i get trevor and jack will be there, but just ignore them, please. i miss you and i dont want them to be the reason we can’t hang out.” cole pleaded.

you let out a sigh. “can i bring a plus one?” you ask. you can hear cole whisper a small ‘yes!’ in victory before speaking, “of course, is it gonna be your brother?”

“uh no— i was gonna talk to sab…” you trailed off.

“i dont care who you bring, as long as i get to see you, bells.”

there is was. the nickname you had been given one summer many years ago by cole, that soon everyone in the hughes summer house called you.

he started to call you bells because of how quiet you would walk into a room, he made the joke you needed a bell to stop scaring them. fast forward, he bought you some and forced you to have them around your neck, and the nickname just stuck.

it was almost endearing at this point. not some joke.

“okay” you whispered, bringing a leg up, resting your chest against your knee.

“when is it?” you asked.

“next weekend. so is this a yes?” cole asked excitedly. “i guess so. i better get paid back for this unexpected flight.”

“fuck yeah, i cannot wait to see you, bells.”

“cant wait to see you too..”

you sigh softly, curled in a fetal position on your bed, your white comforter draped over your body. you hated how after a year, you were still hung up on your ex, who was doing way better than you.

he had a girlfriend, your best friend, hockey, he had it all. you shared your music to the world, not as an act of revenge but as a way to pour your heart out and see if people have and are going through the same thing.

you feel lucky to know you have yet to receive a message from jack, or even his girlfriend. that doesn’t mean you havent seen the comments though.

quinn commenting every once in awhile kind of scared you. what was he telling jack? what was he telling trevor? what was he saying about you in general?

but you and quinn had a good relationship, he was practically your third older brother (right behind your actual one, and auston!). you went to him for advice about jack, or to complain about jack.

luke and you also had a good relationship. one that crumbled when you and him had a small argument over your break up with jack, and him ultimately choosing his brother. you didn’t blame him though.

sad fact is, is you believe that all the hughes brothers were your soulmates in some form. quinn and luke were your platonic soulmates. jack was your romantic soulmate, in every possible way. but not anymore,

jack is on your mind constantly. all you see is him everywhere you go. all the time its just him.

you wanted it to stop. jack was practically your roman empire and god you needed to find a new one.

but hey, at least you don’t have to pretend you like acid rock anymore, because god some of his playlists for game days were bad.

but he was happier now, right? with his new girlfriend who definitely dissed you online..

maybe its a good thing, yknow? now that you dont talk..

tags: @honethatty12 , @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lovinbarzal , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @shadowsndaisies if u want tags, lmk <3

[sageryuri]

BETWEEN HIS FINGERS, JAKE SIM.

pairing jake sim + fem!reader.

genre i’m not really sure what to class this as, they’re just friends who can’t seem to talk about their feelings.

summary jake always knows you'll find him, and you know he can always make you feel better.

word count 0.9k

warnings alcohol usage, marijuana usage,

an sorry for those waiting for the sunghoon fic, i’m so busy atm and havent had time to attend to it :(

There's nothing you hate more than house parties.

People are bumping into you from every corner; their hot, drunk breaths on your neck bother you more and more with every second. It was barely twelve yet, and people were already out of their minds, you couldn't tell who were incredibly drunk or had taken pills because they all seemed to act exactly the same.

You look around trying to find your friends, but it appears they have been dragged into the chaos as they break out moves in the centre of the living room. You've already lost them in the storm, there's no turning back now.

Drinking wasn't the go-to, not for you. With a lack of control once you start drinking, it always leads to bad decisions and tears. Instead, you stuck with the delicacy of dried leaves crumbled into a thin paper- or a bong.

It was never your friends taste, so it was rare you ever had any at parties, considering strangers would be begging you for it. You just had to keep an eye out for one person in particular.

You're sure he's locked himself in someone's bedroom, making himself comfortable with the open window with a well-rolled joint resting between his fingers. That's if he had even turned up, feeling similarly about these parties to you, only being there to babysit.

"Hey, Leah! I'm gonna go and find Jake, you all going to be okay by yourselves?" You shouted across the room, waving your arms wildly for your friend to see. Leah sees you, albeit with a headache-inducing blur, she grins widely and offers a thumbs up while bopping her head to the music.

That's enough for you to wander off on your own adventure to find your trusted companion who's sitting on a goldmine of desired goods.

You watch your step while you walk up the stairs, avoiding the light-weights that are loitering so they don't trip over their own feet. There's a deep red stain on the top step which makes you wince knowing this is in fact Mark's parents house, and he's going to get more than a slap over the head when they come back home in the next week.

There's multiple doors, as you would assume there would be in such a house. So many doors, yet none seemed to stick out to you, apart from the one that had been slammed shut by a couple as soon as you took your last step.

A sign that writes 'Mark's room' with 'DO NOT ENTER' plastered underneath seems plausible and you find yourself laughing at the superhero stickers spread across it. To be polite, you knock four times and await the sound of Australian twang behind the door.

"I've been waiting for you!" He shouts, and you take that as an invitation, opening the door and shutting it just as quickly. As expected, Jake has perched himself on the window ledge, smoke falling from his lips.

He has always been so hypnotic. You'd never admit it to him no matter how close the two of you were, no matter how many times he would say you could tell him anything, but you could stare at him for hours and hours.

There was an unusual time where the two of you were so high you could barely move, having to lay next to each other in silence. At one moment, you had only examined each other, and your finger began to trace every detail of his face. After that, neither of you really decided to speak about it, leaving things how they had always been.

Confusing, frustrating- yet blissful.

"I was hoping you would be around here somewhere. I wish I'd come up here earlier, it's a complete mess down there." You sigh, sitting down on Mark's bed and closing your eyes. The music is not so loud, and you can hardly hear anyone outside the door, just the quieter whispers in the back garden.

"That's why I've been up here, knew you were gonna come up here eventually." He stands up, makes his way over to you and passes you the joint; which you happily take, "You look really pretty, by the way. Never seen you in that dress before, I like it."

The dress had been forced upon you by Leah, who insisted it would fit you perfectly. You weren't really opposed to it, but sometimes the lingering eyes, both lusting and judging, were too much. It was tight around your waist, where it then flowed down to your mid thighs, a deep red colour.

"It's not mine, but I like it too. Thank you." You smile at him, taking a drag from the roll. Feeling calmer, your head falls onto Jake's shoulder and his arm sneaks around your waist to hold you up comfortably, "Do you think Mark will be angry we're smoking in his room?"

"Nah. He's got bigger things to deal with than a little marijuana in his bedroom. You see that red stain on the carpet?" He responds and you can't help but laugh after seeing it on the stairs those few minutes ago before you walked in, "It's huge. There's no way that's coming out- they're gonna make him buy a whole new carpet."

"He can afford it, he'll be fine. One hell of a stain though, I'm horrified for him." You murmur, you find yourself snuggling against him a little worse and slip the joint back into his hands. His face isn't visible to you, but you can imagine the sweet smile he always had spread across his face.

A comforting silence falls over both of you and his free hand soothingly rubs your waist. The unknowingness of your true feelings of each other leaves a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you try to enjoy the moment as you can.

[bitchsister]

I havent seen anyone say this yet but the fact that Croz/bubbles and Croz/Rosie never got their happy ending in EYY either is just as heartbreaking as everything else 💔

I totally agree with you.

Actually, there’s a whole chapter that I scrapped that sort of went into what Crosby was feeling about being different. This chapter was originally how I intended for Curt to find the letter Marge had sent to Gale about the baby, but decided to take a different route altogether and bring Nosie Rosie into it instead.

So, I’ll post it here for you!

It’s not edited, but maybe it’ll help you understand why Crosby never ended up with his boy. (Guilt, internalized homophobia)

The three of them were always good about taking time apart, even if Curt found himself bored out of his mind without Bucky to drink whiskey with or Gale to mutter jokes to, whom he’d crack open bottles of Ginger Beer for with his zippo — because he was a gentlemen, and it was a decent bar trick.

He allowed himself to feel guilt for what he’d done, which was shove the letters Gale had been carrying around with him in his kit for some time now, the stack growing larger each week. Realistically, he rationed that he deserved to know what they’d been talking about — but wouldn’t that mean Marge deserved the same respect?

Perhaps so, but it’d kill her.

Stress isn’t good for the baby, Gale.

Curtis sat in the plaza overlooking the shoreline, his eyes fixated on the sentence he had read countless times. As he nervously bit his fingernails, his mind wandered to a world where he wasn't so intrusive, a world where he remained blissfully unaware of Marge's pregnancy with Gale's baby. He knew this was none of his business, he was well aware, but his body was still full of Gale, and so was his heart

The baby.

The baby.

How long had Gale known?

A chill crackled over his spine like a white hot surge of electricity, a cold sweat washing over him as his hands gripped tighter the letters in his fists. “Baby.” Curtis whispered, his jaw clenched hard enough to make his jaw ache. “A baby.”

His eyes, glazed over and far away had swept across the plaza as if by chance they’d land on something safe — though, Curt had been scarcely aware of what was safe anymore, and what wasn’t. Who could he trust, if he couldn’t trust one of the men he’d laid in bed with that morning?

He wasn’t dense.

He knew Marge hadn’t deserved for her boyfriend to be balls deep in his ass only hours ago, but what Gale had going on with Marge had seemed so far out of his realm; it sounded made up, like a story of what men ought to be, what they’re meant to become — the picture perfect family, the all American man.

One of them Golden dogs, as Bucky had called it, a white picket fence, and an extra room for a nursery, which would be occupied sooner rather than later.

He’d been warned, time and time again — Bucky was right.

Stress isn’t good for the baby.

Curt sighed softly, folding the letters again and tucking them away into his back pocket where they stuck out as he walked the plaza, his arms crossed over his chest as he thought — the halcyon days of being blissfully unaware were over, and now it was time to face the music.

His eyes traced carefully each cobblestone he tiptoed, avoiding the cracks, some kind of splendid predestine leading him to the shopfront of a Gelaterie where it had seemed miles and miles of gelato had been plopped right there, just for him.

And who was he to deny destiny?

He stood in front of the gelato case, happily grabbing at the little spoons he was given by the woman working there who couldn’t seem to stop feeding him samples. Each reaction was better than the last, but he’d eventually landed on pistachio, because it was a lovely green color, and that’s about it.

Back into the plaza he went, licking at the cone in his hand, and then his knuckles once it began to melt. “You aren’t coming to dinner, Curt?” Crosby had jogged to catch up with him, slapping him on the shoulder once he did, “It’s our last one before we go back to base.”

Curt jumped, turning his head to look at Crosby who was already a little pink in the cheeks, probably hopping around with Rosie and tasting wines all day once the rain had stopped. “Why would ya think that?”

“You’re eating ice cream.”

“Well, that don’t mean shit.” Curt mumbled, licking a fat stripe over his cone and sighing, “What’s with you boys and thinkin’ sweets can’t come before supper, huh? That’s how the French do it, I heard.”

“So now you’re a frog?” Crosby reached to ruffle the messy brown waves on Curt’s head, taking note of his leisure attire — he looked like a normal boy, just like anyone he’d gone to school with, no longer the typical vision of a hardheaded pilot in the war. “Whose side are you on, Biddick?”

“Well, if they won’t give me a hundred questions about my eatin’, then yeah.” Curt plopped down at a table near the fountain in the middle of the plaza, watching Crosby sit across from him — he wore a solemn expression, one that Curt had mirrored right back. “You alright?” He timidly rose his eyebrows in his direction, well aware that they couldn’t ignore Bubbles’ absence for the rest of their days.

It didn’t seem right.

They’d both gone mute for awhile, Curt licking at his melting cone and Crosby staring off in the distance at the flying fortresses that were executing some practice runs, departing from other bases neighboring their own.

Still, he held a naive hope that Bubbles would come back, or maybe he’d made it to Switzerland somehow and he’d receive a letter any day now — perhaps even a postcard.

“I loved him.”

Curt looked up from his lap, blinking over at Crosby a few times and although he nodded, he wondered how deep that love had really gone. What were their boundaries — had there been any? Curt whispered, “I know.” As they exchanged a sapient glance. “What about Rosie? He’s been takin’ care of ya, hasn’t he?”

Crosby nodded slowly, his chin resting on his fist when he directed his attention back at Curt again, facing his own music. “He’s kind.” He cracked a smile, a blush creeping over his cheeks and painting even the tips of his ears a pinkish hue. “Hated him at first, though.”

“Don’t he gotta girl back home?”

“Doesn’t Gale?”

Curt’s shoulders deflated, his chin tilting as he chomped on the cone that was becoming a mess in his hand. “Got me there, Crozzy.” He grumbled, reaching in his back pocket and slapping the letters onto the table, a nod in his direction urging Crosby to take a look.

The two of them had never explicitly admitted their involvement with any of the other boys on base, but had seemed to come to an unspoken understanding as time went on. Curt had noticed Crosby getting handsy with Bubbles — and had once caught a glimpse of them behind the showers, to which Curt had warned him in passing, Anything that ain’t behind a closed door or under a roof ain’t safe.

After that, Crosby made sure to keep a curious eye on Curt who had taken a fond liking to Bucky first and then, like a growing cell, they absorbed Gale into their little love amoeba.

“A baby?” Crosby peeked over at Curt from behind the stack of letters, eyes squinted when he folded them back up and tucked them into the envelope decorated with hearts, where they should have stayed. “Well,” he slid them over, “You’re not surprised, are you, Curt?”

Crosby had met Marge, at least a couple times — she was kind, a little conservative, he thought, but it seemed at the time Gale had been looking for that sort of thing. He’d done his parents proud, according to him, and Crosby had thought that was reason enough for the two to be together.

That was most of the relationships he had encountered.

Until Bubbles, of course.

“He never said a single fuckin’ word to anybody about it.”

Crosby sighed, leaning over the table again and scooting closer to Curt who was wiping his hands over a napkin, “It’s better off this way, Curtis.” He whispered, reaching forward to pat his forearm, “Boys like you and I aren’t made to be wives — and boys like Buck are made for a woman.” He realized it may have sounded harsh, but at least he was alive. “And what about Bucky, anyway? We all knew Gale would knock Marge up at some point.” Crosby sat back in his chair then, his arms crossed over his chest. “Guess we just didn’t stop to think it could have already happened.”

“I love Bucky.” Curt nodded quickly, as if to confirm as much. If he had ever made it seem as though he didn’t, he was willing then to set the record straight. “I can’t really put it into words, y’know? Always been bad with that stuff.”

“And Buck makes you feel the same?”

Curt shrugged a shoulder, “I love ‘em. I do. And I know he loves me — it’s different from Bucky, though. It don’t stop me from imagining life after all this, still. Every time I picture it, Buck is there.”

“Delusion is the key to happiness for people like us, Curt.” Crosby shrugged, “I mean, you think Bubs and I would have been married or somethin’? Do you think Rosie is going to drop down on one knee for me someday?”

Maybe, Curt thought, but he stayed silent instead, wide blue eyes locked onto the only other man he’d ever met so much like himself.

“No.” Crosby shook his head, laughing at the thought of it. “Never. And, you know, I might imagine it, too. Picture it, even. A perfect life — our own version of the American dream.” He looked near the little winery on the plaza where he spotted Rosie with Bucky who was grimacing at each drop of liquid he tried, hollering about how he would have preferred a whiskey instead of all this. “But shit like that doesn’t happen, Curt. I’ve made my peace with being a placeholder — it’s just another way I’m doin’ my part in this war.” He reached over again to pat his palm gently over Curt’s sticky knuckles, “A willing piece of ass for the fighting men of the United States of America. It’s a bit more freeing to look at it that way.”

“Right.” Curt looked at the cone in his hand, obliterated from the anxious grip he held it with. He’d be a liar if he said he’d never thought of it that way — it was human nature to seek sexual fulfillment and to a man whose last breath could be any minute, someone else’s genitals may not have been the most important attribute to their company. “What do you think Bubbles would have said, if he heard you sayin’ that?”

Crosby smiled, hunching over the table yet again and knocking the cone out of Curt’s hand, replacing it with a wad of napkins, “I know wherever he is, we’re happy.” Their eyes met, Curt’s curious gaze begging for Crosby to explain himself. “We get to live how we wanted. If heaven is what they crack it up to be — well, that was the heaven we always talked about.”

“Well, why couldn’t ya make that real, Croz? What’s so hard about it?” Curt urged, wiping his hands free of the green sticky mess he’d made of them.

“This world wasn’t made for men like us, Curt.” It had come out in a whisper, as if he hadn’t wanted to say it, but he’d already said it in five million different ways already.

“So, you think heaven is? Don’t gays go to hell, or somethin’?”

Crosby snorted, shaking his head, “I don’t think so.” He mused, adverting his gaze again to make sure the boys who were growing in numbers near the winery were still visible — he’d inadvertently blown their cover, making eye contact with Foxwood. “That’s not how I look at it.”

“Well, you gotta real stupid way of lookin’ at it.” Curt had refused to believe his daydreams could never come to fruition — without hope, they had nothing.

“Hey! Croz!” A voice called out, making Curtis groan into his lap. “Curt! Get your asses over here!”

“Ah, I think we’re being summoned.” Crosby stood and followed Curt to the fountain where he stuck his hands under the spray, washing them clean. “You don’t have to live your life for anybody else, Curt. Live it for you. We fear dying too often for it to be any other way.”

“That’s what I thought I was doin’, idiot.”

“No,” Crosby nudged his shoulder, “You’re livin’ for everybody but your goddamn self. You stole those letters. Was that even somethin’ you needed to know?”

“I think so.” Curt turned and shook his hands dry, nudging into Crosby to push him to walk first.

“Nah.” Croz shoved his hands in his pockets, his sights trained on every step they made as to not meet the eyes of the boys who were watching them. “But now that you have, you need to talk to him about it.”

Their conversation had ended there, the two of them finding their respective seats that had been saved, one next to Rosie, for Crosby, and one in the middle of Gale and Bucky for Curtis.

Once they’d all gotten themselves good and wine drunk, Crosby had been the sensible one to raise a finger, “Fellas, fellas! We gotta nice dinner tonight. Behave, behave.” He swatted some of the wine out of hands, even stole a few glasses from those who seemed to be a little too drunk for five o’clock in the afternoon. “Pay the sweet people and let’s get a move on. I have to shower, Curt got his ice cream hands on me.”

The walk back was a stumbly one for just about everyone and yet Curt had still taken care not to step on any cracks in the cobblestone, still sharp as a thumbtack and thinking again and again about what he’d say to Gale, or if he’d say anything at all.

A placeholder, a willing piece of ass, like Crosby had said.

Perhaps there was truth in that.

“You okay?” Bucky asked once they’d made it back into their apartment, Gale locking himself behind the bathroom door to get himself ready for dinner, leaving the two of them alone. “Been quiet.” He stood in the threshold as he watched Curt gather his things and drag them into an unoccupied room down the hall, grunting all the while.

“Fine.” Curt murmured, pushing past Bucky again to grab his shirt, which he’d forgotten, and the towel he’d claimed as his own.

“Don’t look fine.” Bucky walked behind Curt at a distance that he hoped wasn’t smothering, but he was cautious as ever now that he’d seen what could happen when Curt’s mood changed.

“I’m great.” Curt stood in the middle of the room he’d picked, painted blue and decorated with tacky old lamps and a dresser that couldn’t hold his weight like the other one could. “Any more questions I could answer for ya, John?”

“Woah,” Bucky waved his hands, “Don’t go all government name on me now, Curtie. You’re movin’ your shit out of the room like a pissed off girlfriend.” He watched Curt’s shoulders tense in that very instant, his body slowly turning to face Bucky who was drunk, and stupid looking.

“I’m not no fuckin’ girl.” Curt threw his crumpled shirt at Bucky, and then a shoe from his left foot which Bucky had caught, despite the wine that had stained his lips red. “And I never fuckin’ will be.” He took his right shoe off and threw it, too. And then a pillow, and an old, broken alarm clock which Bucky had dodged by a hair.

“Good thing you aren’t a gunner, Baby. Your aim is tragic.” Bucky narrowly dodged yet another piece of decor flying toward his head, an angry and red in the face Curtis stomping toward him.

“Don’t call me that.” Curt’s jaw had clenched again, his fists balled at his sides as he stood before Bucky, neck craned upward to look at him. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that. I’m not your baby, and I’m not your fuckin’ girlfriend.”

Bucky’s expression had changed then to all five stages of grief, and just about every emotion he’d ever felt. “Of course you’re my baby.” He whispered, reaching his hands forward to grab onto Curtis who swiped them away.

“Who you got at home, Bucky? Somebody I don’t know about? You get some bird pregnant, too?” Curt surged forward again, poking at Bucky’s chest to taunt him. “Oh, better yet — you probably knew, huh? Didn’t ya?” He was bordering hysteria and yet Bucky wouldn’t back away from him. In fact, he stepped closer. “You told me about that fuckin’ nursery. Probably did it so I wouldn’t be surprised when I found out. Hm? Admit it.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Curt?”

Curtis yanked the crumbled envelope from his back pocket, covered in sticky melted gelato from earlier and shoved it into Bucky’s chest where he’d been poking him. There was no way he’d be able to feign innocence now — he’d stolen them, read them, and now he’s taking their contents out on Bucky who unfolded the papers and scanned the neat cursive writing.

Stress isn’t good for the baby.

His eyes met Curt’s again. “I didn’t know.” He whispered, thumbing through the pages and finding the first letter, one that had been dated nearly ten months back. If his limited knowledge about pregnancy was correct, then Marge had already given birth by now and Gale was a father, not soon-to-be. “These letters are old, honey. From before we ever—“

Curt ripped them from his hands again, “I don’t give a fuck!” He shouted. If he could see himself, he’d feel embarrassed. “How does that make anything better, huh? Some poor innocent baby’s militant, absent daddy.” He threw his arms up, the letters falling at their feet in crumpled heaps. “Who likes to watch his friends fuck. Oh - not just that, huh? Not just that.” He shoved Bucky’s chest with his hands then who tried again to catch his wrists and pull him in, “Not just that.” His voice wavered, his cheeks were red, “We promised what we did when we went all the way was for us, Bucky. Nobody else.”

“Are you sayin’ you didn’t want to fuck him?”

Curt growled with anger, shoving him yet again but that time Bucky had caught him by the forearms which he twisted behind Curt’s back, pressing him against the wall and holding him there. “Stop it.” Bucky’s voice was firm, his knee pressing into the base of his spine to prevent him from wiggling free. “Fucking stop it, Curtis.” He listened to Curt whine and huff out of his nose, body wiggling to try and break free. “I’m not leavin’ you. You won’t sleep without me. I’ll sleep at your door, Curt. Try to get rid of me all you want, you can’t.”

Curtis groaned, his cheek squished against the wall, “This world ain’t meant for people like us.” He whispered, relaying to Bucky the exact sentiment Crosby had fed him earlier. Each word had tasted like pistachio, burned so viciously into his memory.

He felt sick, in more ways than one.

“Maybe it’s not.” Bucky leaned his head against Curt’s shoulder but kept him pinned to the wall, his maneuver softening just slightly from that of restraint to more of a forced embrace. “But we’re together in that, aren’t we?” He nuzzled his face into Curt’s neck, murmuring against his damp skin. “You can’t get rid of me. I’ve already lost you once.”

Curt had never liked to cry. Rarely ever had he let anyone else so much as see a mist in his eyes whenever they’d watch an old film in the mess hall, or even when his friends never made it back. When he fell as a child, he never made a peep — but it seemed all that had built up, the pressure hitting its high and causing him to erupt.

He was eventually turned around by Bucky who held him, swiping the letters under the bed with his foot as to not bring Gale into all of it just yet, though he couldn’t help but to wonder how dinner would go that evening — Curt was bad at hiding his emotions and Bucky had never been the most skilled at pretending nothing was wrong when there certainly was.

[astranite]

WIP Late-Wednesday

Scott needed help. Scott asks for help even if its just a little thing.

This is a part of a scene I've had in my mind for a while that follows my fic Close Call. Ao3. Probably is still comprehensible if you havent read it but like also look more earth and sky!! So here a rough partial version though its got a fair amount to it and words for a wip Wed so here!! Enjoy the earth and sky moment.

---

Scott let out a growl of frustration, flapping his hand about in an attempt to dislodge the tape. A foolish attempt, he found, as it flipped around and stuck to the other side of his hand. So now it was sticking! It hadn't before to the point and clearly the adhesive wasn’t the problem, it was very effective except at going where he wanted it!

He wadded up another ball of the athletic tape to join the other attempts. At this rate he was going to run out before he managed to get any to stick where he wanted it. He was trying to take care of his shoulder and do all the right things. He’d done his physio exercises each morning with Gordon after their respective swim and run so he wouldn’t forget and Gordon would tell him if he thought he was pushing himself too hard. He’d worn the sling, even though he hated having an arm immobilised. 

He really was for once trying to take care of himself  because he’d actually listened to Virgil even when it took both of them having a sobbing breakdown for it to stick, but the entire universe seemed dead set against it. The ugly, beige tape and bits of paper backing stared up at him from where they were strewn across his bathroom counter. A couple had even landed in the sink. Scott averted his eyes, same as he’d done from the mirror, staring instead at his bare feet. There was yet another failed attempt fallen down there.  The blue polish from when he’d let Gordon paint his nails was still stuck to them. He wriggled his toes into the fluffy bathmat in an attempt to distract himself.

As he rolled his right shoulder backwards, the joint popped and clicked. It had healed up alright after he’d dislocated it weeks back so Virgil and Grandma were finally letting him back on active rescue duty. Not just light duty protocols where he wasn’t even allowed out of One no matter how much he ached to help properly. Virgil’s firm commands and the memory of his terrified anger, along with the way John’s eyes had widened, expression crumpling the one time he’d almost moved had kept him in his seat.

Scott pulled his shirt back on. At least now he wasn’t gasping in pain every time he had to manoeuvre his arm into the sleeve. His shoulder was pretty much back to its usual level of dull hurt if he overworked it and sharp stabs if he did something really weird. Virgil had also informed him when he accidentally said this that it wasn't normal for it to hurt all the time at all without a current injury. So that was something too.

His feet took him to the lounge room where he knew Virgil would be painting right now, what was left of the roll of tape in hand. He let himself walk up to Virgil’s easel, like this was totally normal, like he wasn’t doing anything new, or unprecedented. There was nothing to be nervous about. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

A deep breath in, let it out. Then: “Hey Virge.”

Virgil immediately looked up from his stunning landscape of the island, brows nearly meeting in the middle.

Yup very normal, Scott. Virgil the musician totally wouldn't notice how his voice was a pitch higher than usual.

“What’s up?” Virgil began cautiously.

Scott balled his hands into fists before consciously relaxing them. 

QOUTE 

QUOTE

The memories played back in his mind. He could just ask.

“Virgil, I need your help?”

It came out as more of a question than Scott had meant. He was ready to stuff the words back down his throat in the second of silence that followed.

His brother stiffened minutely, grip tightening around his paintbrush. But then he smiled up at Scott, putting the brush into cloudy turquoise water in the jar.

“Sure, what with?”

Oh. 

Like that Virgil was ready to help him.

Scott head spun, he’d been holding his breath and he let it out shakily. Why the hell was this harder than jumping out of One? He was just asking Virgil for help with what was objectively a small task and it wasn’t like they didn’t ever help patch each other up and check over gear on missions. But this time it was him approaching and doing the asking.

“My shoulder, I’ve been trying to strap it up for today, like you said.” He waved the tape around vaguely.

Virgil settled a hand on his uninjured shoulder, grounding him with the weight. 

Scott let himself lean into it. Impulsively, he tipped forward so he could hug his brother press their foreheads together. 

Virgil’s deep brown eyes widened in surprise before softening at the edges.

He rested a warm hand at the back of Scott neck, smiling at him.

“I’m happy to help.”

Scott closed his eyes, letting the relief sink in and hope to fix this moment in his mind so next time it was something big he’d remember this.

[habizuh-studios]

oooo another random wip i havent touched since 2 months ago..... in which i made a love letter to my past self and made one of those "X gets stuck in a room for 24 hours" except without all the cringe because i cannot handle htat. and also exposition. Enjoy!! TGCF fic btw,,,,,

Xie Lian was not expecting this to be the way his evening turned out, but all is well and good. He’s not dead yet. What is not well and good, however, is the fact that he’s here with Feng Xin and Mu Qing, who clearly haven’t been in this situation due to their reasonable luck. In all honesty, Xie Lian might have been able to do the mission himself. He’s sure that he is capable enough to escape, but clearly his abominable luck had other plans. This curse had caused them to be transported to a room surrounded by dirt- no visible airholes or anything. He’s sure that he would survive, but San Lang would worry, and Feng Xin and Mu Qing can die, even if their lives are prolonged by their God status. Gods can still die. He’s seen it first-hand. STRIKETHROUGH: (He’s experienced it first-hand. He just came back after.) Well, whatever. They have bigger problems to deal with, like trying to escape. Xie Lian’s observational skills have noticed that the room is (274.32 centimeters by 182.88 centimeters) long, the walls are entirely made of dirt with air holes so small that they cannot see it even if their were any, and the word ‘truth’ in dim letters above their heads. It’s almost transparent, but he cannot figure out for the life of him what that is supposed to mean. He isn’t sure if they were here for twenty minutes or two hours, and they need to think of something. From experience, it would probably take two days to suffocate due to his strength and immortality. It would be safe to assume that the same is for Feng Xin and Mu Qing, due to their Godhood. “Fuck, what the hell are we supposed to even do here?” Feng Xin suddenly says, startling both him and Mu Qing. “Your yelling isn’t helping anybody,” Mu Qing responds with a sneer. They’re always like this, so Xie Lian doesn’t worry, but he doesn’t want them to waste their breath. He wishes San Lang were here. He would know what to do… But the password. He shakes his head quickly, messing up his hair while doing so. Either the two don’t notice or don’t care, because they don’t even look at him while glaring daggers at each other. “Let’s not waste air, you guys…” He tries to placate them. He’s not above begging- he’s done it multiple times. If only they would think rationally instead of yelling at each other… He isn’t really doing anything either, so he can’t really be talking, but still. --- AND that's all i have so far! things in parenthesis are stuff i need to edit. yk..

[everydaygremlin]

I would

YIPEE! i havent edited it yet or anything, but here it is

do you remember

the cry of the birds in the morning

waking with the sun

but staying stuck in bed

because nobody else was up then?

well of course you don’t

because you weren’t lying there

do you remember

fighting against the current

in a bright yellow boat

paddling against it

struggling to stay afloat

well of course you dont

becasue they were one person boats

do you remember

the crowded dining room

loud and full of sound

waing with bated breath

to be called for seconds

of a food we dont know the name of

well of course you dont

because you weren’t in the line

do you remember

standing in lines in the early morning (and evening)

slowly becoming a feast

for the blood sucking bugs

well of course you dont

because i didnt hear you slap at them a futile effort

to evade their bites

maybe instead

all you can remember

is something different

other

than mine

maybe you left bed

and stood in the early sun

ignoring the screeching

somewhat understanding the preaching

of the people who tell you

to take walks alone

maybe you were picked up by the current

and instead of fighting against it

it carried you exactly where you wanted to go

let you sit there

and brought you back home

with no water on you

not even a drip

maybe you sat

with your best and closest friends

for every meal

laughing with them

over the best memories

you made together 

maybe you made peace with the bugs

and you let them suck your blood 

leave the bites all over your legs

and they thanked you

with never bothering you again

and finding me to bite instead

maybe you and me

maybe we’re opposites

or maybe we’re the same 

just in different circumstances

but maybe you were lying there

in the early sunlight 

maybe you were in your own little yellow boat

fighting the same battle alone

maybe you were all the way at the back of the line

too far back to notice

maybe you were in the lines in early morning

you just remembered to bring bug spray

[xxchthonicreaturexx]

Matchup Trade with @frostfall-matches

Hello hello :) Thank you for doing the trade with me <3 The MysMes match might be a little off since it's been a long time since I've played or read anything from the fandom, but here it is! Hope you like it :)

Twisted Wonderland

Lilia Vanrouge ~

....My little gramp vamp <3

I decided to match you with Lilia :) Why? You know why.

Okay so first of all, your styles would completely go hand in hand. Like hands down, whether it's you or your self insert, from what you describe it's the same kind of alternative vibe. Like, have you seen Lilia's band/pop club outfit? You guys would probably lowkey be matching from what I imagine. And he probably will ask to borrow your combat boots from time to time. They kinda remind him of his time as a War General to be honest...

(Plus your insert is a Fae? Hello? He won't have to worry about you growing old and dying like he is Silver?)

That being said, Lilia is a little asshole of a rascal, and he will prank you just to get you to snark some attitude towards him. (It probably turns him on.) Like he'll do everything in his power to spook you and annoy you just to have a smirk on his face while you shoot him some insulting little quip. Oh but what he'd do to see you ACTUALLY annoyed for once-

While you're distant but respectful, he's more so...everywhere and nowhere all at once. Bro is an enigma, and somehow you got stuck with him. But underneath all the spooky pranks and vampiric allure, he's actually kinda a sad man. He's been around, he has seen some shit, and i mean he's literally a dad so?? He knows coping mechanisms when he sees them. He won't force you to talk. He knows not to pry and try and help you when you havent asked, but he makes it known that he's there to help if there ever comes a time that past trauma pops up. He makes sure you know that he's just an old fae with coping mechanisms too.

Despite being a fae that knows more than most, he doesn't enjoy babying people, fae - human, doesn't matter. He doesn't baby people, and he can recognize that you're independent without him. It's more so you entertain him. You guys are able to play around and yet be serious on another level as well. (He probably encourages you to break rules with him)

Lilia definitely has you play video games with him. Wants you to play that shoot-em up game with Idia at some point, even if Idia will probably rat on you the whole time. (Like he has room to talk-)

I can guarantee too that he will learn languages with you. I mean, he's how many centuries old? He probably already knows multiple. With time like that, he probably is at LEAST Trilingual. Studying together would be cute though <3

Overall score 8/10.

Lilia is an amazing character, but cons would be his pranks. Bro is a menace and he will never stop. Also he's been around for YEARS so he lowkey thinks he knows everything- I imagine living with him for so long will get annoying but he's incredibly loyal and entertaining!

Runnerups: Malleus or Floyd (...Don't question- I had ideas...)

Mystic Messenger

Zen (Hyun Ryu)~

Okay so HEAR ME OUT...

Zen is a cool guy but he's a little....narcissistic. BUT I do believe you have just enough of a mix of blunt attitude and slight arrogance to make him reel back and be like "Woah-" Because lets be honest, just because he has a pretty face doesn't mean he can be all about himself. (Well sometimes.)

On the other side, it's also known that Zen can be very self doubting and beats himself up at any miniscule mistake. Again, you're blunt and have enough spark to quickly reassure and pull him from his depression.

Ex: Zen -"Sweetie, I appreciate your help, but as far as I'm concerned I can't get this role. I screwed up while auditioning. I failed."

(Probably) You - "Stfu- It was a tiny voice crack no one probably even noticed. You're seriously gonna mope? Get over your pity party."

Or atleast how I imagined you two would kinda banter. He can be SLIGHTLY overdramatic.

He'd definitely take you on cafe dates though. He knows the best spots and he can afford those real fancy drinks. Oh and don't even get him started on DIY or home projects- He's setting up pinterest boards, finding aesthetic blogs, and posting cute pics and vids all over social media. It's a win-win. Content for his fans and he's spending time with you doing something fun! Not to mention he'd ask you to work out with him. A jog? Hiking? Still physical activity to him!

He's not super into gaming but I don't think he shuns it (that I remember anyways-) but he might just go ask 707 for some tips and ask to play a multiplayer game with you. Something easier though like Mario Kart or Gang Beasts. Lighthearted and easy to learn.

Oh and the TRAVELING- oh honey- Zen is a somewhat successful performer so I GUARANTEE that he travels whenever he has the chance. You wanna go back to Korea? Absolutely. Spain? Why not. Antarctica? Not sure why you'd want to, but maybe there'll be penguins!

Overall: I'd give you guys 7/10. Zen is a good guy, really! But you two might clash sometimes, just because he does come off a little narcissistic sometimes. He doesn't mean to, in fact it's a coping mechanism for his own self doubt, but it just comes off the wrong way sometimes. Overall though, he's handsome, has money to travel, and would definitely learn languages with you for the sake of getting new roles and whatever else!

Runnerup: 707

Thank you again <3

[queerspaceprince]

super long post

i saw the tv glow spoilers, me being depressing, tw's in tags

i went to see I Saw the TV Glow this afternoon. i got it. def cried a little (idk if hrt has stopped me from crying more bc i havent cried since i was in hs anyway) my sib got it, tho we havent talked ab it yet bc im still processing even now. my mom did not get any of it. at all. wasnt affected. thats fine, whatever.

and. jesus. i give the movie a 15/10, but it was. a whole lot. i have too many emotions.

Im def gonna mention a few spoilers so if you dont want to be spoiled, is your warning.

it made me feel too much. is the allegory really allegory if the hidden meaning is right at the surface?

when owen says that thing during their convo on the bleachers -i cant remember the exact words fuck- something about feeling hollow or missing something or whatever, how he thinks something is wrong with him and his parents do to-i feel that. so much. i felt it so much more before my egg cracked, but i still feel it in relation to my depression and anxiety. that hit me.

there was also that part about feeling like you're watching yourself from the outside, as if through a tv. oof.

then the whole thing maddie said about how time didnt feel right, how nothing changed when she left. i get it. I was 10 nd my parents got divorced, and suddenly im 11 and thinking i wanted to d1e for the first time, and then im 14 in a kind of manipulative relationship, with like 1 friend and super depressed, and then i was graduating and realizing im queer and exploring my gender and going through a breakup. then im 20, and getting my first job, and coming out to my family. and now im 26. and i still mostly feel the same way i always have. i have more good days, and im more confident now, but i still feel like im just going through the motions a lot of the time.

when did I stop being a kid? ive been an adult for 8 years and Im still only working part time (32 hrs), still living with my mother bc rent is $$$$, still barely functional enough that I havent cleaned my room since last year and ive only showered 3 times in the past week, and i have to force myself to go get coffee on my days off or else ill stay in bed all day. Im just stuck here. i shouldve taken driving lessons when I could. id be out. except i cant leave my sibling behind with my mother. shes not awful, but them being alone is an explosion waiting to happen. but they dont have a job and i doubt i could support both of us. and now i dont trust my eyes enough, like i read for 15 minutes and everything else goes blurry, like im seeing triple.

anyway. next is the scene in where she talks about k1lling herself to get back to the pink opaque world. I. have to admit i nearly threw up. the imagery, the way she spoke about it. she said she regretted it while she was stuck underground, then how she felt good about it, about getting out....ive been sitting in a low spot for a while, it was better while we were on our trip, but it just reverted when we came back. i keep thinking im going to relapse into sh again. i feel so close to the edge sometimes. and theres really no reason for it either. my life is fine. not great, not perfect. but adequate. anyway i had to close my eyes and take a minute after that.

i feel that even without wanting to go back to the other world, maddie was suicidal. she wouldve found some reasoning to k1ll herself. Now ive only ever been actively su1cidal once, when i was 15 -or 16- idk my teen years are all a blur of depression and anxiety. im good now. well. i say good. im more, self destructive then really wanting to d1e. just. i feel so bad on the inside for no reason, why can i have a reason to hurt on the outside?? anyway, im ok now, im 3.5 years clean, i dont want that to change. im working on my coping mechanisms.

there was another quote from that planetarium scene that i couldnt stop thinking about but has now vanished from my mind entirely. bc sometimes getting my thoughts in order is like. catching smoke.

anyway. then everything after that. him growing old. knowing something about him is different but not wanting to acknowledge it or it would drastically his life as he knows it. I understand that feeling. except for me, its not exactly acknowledgement of myself, its doing something about it. while I didnt exactly stay in the closet long, that feeling of not wanting anything to change is why the closet exists. i realized i was queer in 2014, trans 2015. came out as bi that summer, but i didnt come out as trans until 3 years later. when I had a job. access to money if i ended up getting kicked onto the street. i literally had a bag packed and ready to go. and yet. even when i did come out, i was too afraid to correct my family on my pronouns or name for another year. my sibling really helped with that. immediately used them. Tbh theyre my fave person and id do anything they asked.

the whole thing about there still being time.

i see a lot of tiktoks about this. people watning to do stuff now bc there is still time to change your life or whatever. im interpreting it differently.

there is time now, but your hourglass will run low eventually. live while you still can, while you can still do something about it. how that message showed up after maddie left- their time together had run out, but he might still be able to do something. make a change. idk. but owen was too scared to do anything.

im still scared to do anything.

i still dont correct people on my name or pronouns if they get them wrong. i still dont speak up if my family says anything not pc (they are learning tho). im too scared to talk about any big feeling i have bc ive always been brushed off in the past and i dont want to feel worse becasue of it.

i still havent done anything to get my name or gender marker changed bc im scared. idk why. ive been living as a man for 6 years, i got top surgery almost 3 years ago, and ive been on hrt for nearly 2.

it terrifies me for some reason. maybe ts the complexity of it. ive found 3 different versions of the paperwork, and nowhere does it tell me exactly how or who to submit it too. one of those said i could submit online but it had to be printed, notarized, and scaned back into the computer? none of the other versions said it had to be notarized???

and i have nobody who has any knowlege that could help. my aunt worked for a lawyer for years, and yet she just said all I have to do is go to the dmv. like babe. no. thats not how that works.

i think ill start on that again.

while i still have time.

[moodr1ng]

re last post while im being chatty (sleeping pills do that to me): i have a kinda strange relationship w my knuckle tattoos. when i was 17 i was in a pretty rough spot in life. though i wasnt in The Absolute Worst Years, things werent going great on pretty much any front. i was failing out of school at the time, i saw no future for myself, i felt like i had fucked up all my options beyond any redemption. i lived in a "bad neighborhood", in a social housing apartment where i shared the one bedroom with my sister and my mom slept in the living room. i had like, two irl friends and one of those friendships was quite toxic and codependent. my mental health was abysmal and my parents were at the end of their rope with what to do with me. nobody even believed id manage to graduate high school anymore. i had no money except what i could glean from art commissions on tumblr and whatnot. i was perpetually broke and so were my friends (we shoplifted quite a bit at that time). i always knew my mom and i didnt exactly have much money but i was really feeling it then, and more than that, i felt like this prophecy was hanging over my head, that i would too end up like my parents: an underpaid worker in a shit job with seemingly no upsides or ways to move forward.

yet i had an inkling that one day i might get out of this; that i might one day escape this and 'rise above my station', 'make it' in some way. i pictured myself as someone who did make it: an older version of me, who i pictured very clean-cut and acceptable-looking, maybe wearing a suit or something. i hated that version of me; the sellout. i looked at that future me and thought: dont you dare forget about me. dont you dare forget about all of us here - not just my family but everyone i loved, and the people in the same neighborhoods and the same situation. i guess it was a moment of class awareness and solidarity. i thought: ill never let myself become a clean-cut, law-abiding, middle class sycophant who looks down on people like me.

so i got commission money for the cheapest tattoo machine i could get, some $50 crappy machine i got off ebay that came with needles and inks, and i sat at my kitchen table one afternoon with an internet friend on a skype call and tattooed my own knuckles - right hand tattooed with the left hand and all. i chose "DIRT POOR". i thought: there. not only can i see it, everyone can. i can rise up as much as i can in the world. but there will always be this neon sign on my hand that says: i came from here.

and i stuck with that for a very long time. i loved those tattoos. when i stopped loving them (because theyre kinda ugly, and i dont like explaining them to people, etc) i still loved the meaning behind them.

but then i actually 'made it'. i mean, not really. i didnt truly make it. i dont have a job, my main income is disability benefits, but im blessed that i also have my etsy shop and a roommate who helps with rent and a very cheap apartment, all of which means i have an income thats almost minimum wage and benefit from a lot of government aid, and through that ive set aside sizeable savings. i dont have to worry about paying for my food or home or clothes or other necessities, and i can go for drinks with friends or order takeout or buy myself little eccentricities just because i want to. i certainly didnt turn out clean-cut and proper in a suit, but i got to a place that 17 year old tattooing himself on a dirty kitchen table thought hed never get to.

and now that im here the tattoos feel.. silly. shameful. the people who ask me about them are most often panhandlers - and when i translate what it means to them i feel like such a poser. like, dirt poor? really? but im not dirt poor. im doing fine. if i dont get into the extensive backstory of the tattoos every time, i just.. look like someone trying to look rougher than i am. i feel like im appropriating a struggle that is no longer mine. and i dont even like the tattoos anymore and havent for a long time, and now the message itself doesnt feel worth having them.

like id forget where i come from if i didnt have it etched in my hands? like i even needed that reminder anyway? in the end, i got these because i didnt trust myself - because i thought my class solidarity was disingenuous, opportunistic, based only in my current circumstances. but ill never forget how i grew up. the message is already in me. i never needed a reminder. my past will always be a part of me.

so, anyway, ive been thinking of getting the tattoos lasered off. im far from being sure i wanna do it, though almost only because of the price, but ive been considering it often. i still feel a bit like its a betrayal of my 17 yo self. but then again, i think if he saw me now, 10 years older and in the position im in now, hed probably get it. hed see i havent really changed, not in the important ways. i think in the same way i need to forgive my past selves, maybe they too need to forgive me for moving on from them. so i really might get the laser, if not soon, then someday.

if i do, ill still have other hand and finger tattoos, so it wouldnt change much if i get new knuckle ones. if that does come to pass - im thinking "GOOD LUCK" this time.

[maplecaster]

i dreamt that there was this mansion that was also a school, actually this was a recurring dream. i had the power to speak to “lost children”, kids that have been forgotten by time and space. there was this series of rooms where each one was a trial, and within each trial i would save a lost child by remembering them. they would be a ghost, and then i’d have the power to resurrect them fully once i complete the whole thing.

here’s an example. one child was a 7 year old girl, i think she was the youngest out of them all. she played the viola and in her room was a viola bow, a small piano keyboard, and some sheet music inside a drawer. you had to play what was written, but i couldn’t read the sheet music.

one of my pursuers, i forgot why they were chasing me but they were akin to bullies. i locked the door to the trial room and they teased me by pulling out a viola and playing a scale upwards. on the last note, they played the wrong note, and i knew that they did it on purpose, and that the girl played the same exact wrong note. in fact, playing that was the answer to the trial and i could move on, but they did it maliciously. they told me they wish they had her real viola so they could smash it, and when they saw i had her bow they tried to take it.

before i left the room, i saw the girl’s ghost. as i did with all the other children, i asked what her name was. ofc i dont remember it now but they were all japanese.

the next trial was the last one, and actually this one didn’t have a lost child because it was a repeat of the first child. also a girl, maybe around 10 years? i was able to communicate with her regularly through cryptic drawings that appeared on my phone. i got really stuck on what to do in this room. i asked her if we should leave before finishing (as i said it was a recurring dream, so canonically i kept leaving and coming back) and a drawing appeared of a large tree with children surrounding it. some of its branches were red and bent towards one child, the one i was speaking to, going inside her face. i figured this meant i should stay, but then i saw a new drawing which i mostly forgot by now. the next one i saw was the girl standing at the edge of a windswept cliff, a door behind her open with the other lost children coming through it. it was one of those magic doors where it was just a frame and a door, no wall, but it still lead somewhere. i interpreted this as that this was the last trial (i didnt know that before seeing the drawing)

the room was the size of a storage closet with some stuff wrapped in plastic near the far wall. i ripped open the plastic, hoping for a doorway to come, but there was nothing. btw i havent mentioned them yet but there were like 2 people with me and one of them was able to figure it out while i was stuck. he told me he said a little poem, the fifth line being “open the mansion of new york city.” now, nyc isn’t a mansion but its big and theres a lot of space so it counted. when he said that the plastic i ripped open became a portal to nyc. i figured if that counted as a mansion, and this portal can only be opened to mansions, i thought to try “open the mansion of your mind”. i dont remember the full poem, maybe it didnt even contain real words lol. it worked, and i went through the portal, but i wasn’t in the lost child’s mind, i was in a car of a teacher. the same teacher that set me on this quest. he thanked me and told me to remember all of the children. as i remembered their names, they each emerged from the same spot as me and my group did, no longer ghosts. it was really sweet ok.

[bishiglomper]

I need to rant

But omfg. The niece. The niece is going to finally drive us off the deep end.

She wants to keep the baby if it belongs to current, 3 week old boyfriend.

He's got priors, went to jail for something drug related I think. And he's on the registry. Which we dont even get to know the situation because niece refuses to ask.

Now so far as a person, I dont have any bad feelings about him. He's nice and polite, he can function, he can read, unlike her fiance.. He says he can cook. Has expressed sentiments like getting niece new shoes because hers are falling apart. No sign of anger issues yet like the last 2. I think she said hes got like 2 kids out there

And i dont know what color flag this is, but he once told the niece he chopped off his beloved hair to see her reaction. He wanted her to blow up but she was just like "its your body." Then she reiterated that she expected the same respect. Like if she got a piercing he may disagree with. Shes still gonna do it.

Who knows where pregnancy stands on that line.

Oh and by the way, she still hasnt even said "i love you" back yet. But she'll have his child??

But this bitch is in no fucking means ready for a child.

She's a good caretaker, I would trust her to babysit for a few hours just fine but thats it.

For one, she neglected her rats to death.

She told me with no shame that she absolutely doesnt touch a litterbox, and that she starved her cat.

The woman doesnt even take care of herself. She barely eats and she keeps losing weight. Shes like 5"2 and in childrens jeans. And even though she kept passing out and was told ahe has super low B12, she refused too take suppliments. Even if i handed them directly to her.

If that keeps up shes just going to end up having a miscarriage or a premie with medical problems.

And i dont know what smoking weed during pregnancy does. But its worth looking into.

She does have her own apartment, but does she stay there? No. Only when she has someone over to do things together.

My sister and her son already sleep on the floor in the living room. Niece sleeps on the chaise

You think we have room to help raise a baby, even if we wanted to? Hell to the fuckin no.

Speaking if which. I can already see the dynamic that will be

She'll want us to watch the baby while she continues to work at applebees, where she'll be stuck forever now instead of getting back to college eventually. But she'll have strong weird opinions on how shes going to raise her child.

i just know shes going to be like her bff and teach her toddler to say "mommys a bitch!"

Because i was thinking if there were a smaller child around we could probably get nephew to cut it out. But nah, she would encourage it because its funny.

By the way, we're hiding this from the nephew. It was almost ww3. Sissy doesnt want him to know. And niece is offended because its her brother, he can understsnd the concept of abortion and ahw doesnt like to keep things from him.

Also not telling the aunt. Niece doesn't give a fuck and may do so out of spite

We still havent recovered that relationship enough to have dinner together. And aunt said something like "since (mom) isn't saving your souls, I'm going to have to do it"

So if she finds out, its just going to get really, really annoying. And drive more wedge between us all.

Niece asked her mom if she was gonna be mad at her if she kept it. Sissy told me she was mad either way. There will be no winning.

My mother and sister are being way super gentle and calm about it all to her. She does not deserve it. She needs to sit there like an adult and listen to our concerns before she makes a decision just because it's current boyfriend's DNA in there. She never wanted her own children. And if she wants to suddenly play adult, she needs to make some adult fucking decisions.

[puppysdog]

I know nothing of your OCs tell me about them

ive got way too many so im gonna talk about the final girls ocs i have from my horror movies !

first is Áine from Goldberg. shes one of my favorites since shes the first final girl i came up with. she was really fun to make bc i realized i didnt have any “weird girl” ocs which was a tragedy. college aged, lived with her bestfriend izzy (pre death) and her two closest friends after. shes got copper curly hair (like the irish actress jade jordan), big brown eyes and glasses, and the same set of five tshirts and cargo pants from high school. shes super into horror movies and murder mysteries, and is over confident in her abilities which continuously puts her in dangerous situations, but also helps her get out of them. she ends up with the killer at the end of the movie which i think was a fun turn on the final girl trope

for the movie The Summoning in the Forest (title in progress still) both Alex and Ranger Butch Ryder are the final girls. ive always been a big fan of unwilling mentor/younger character with no family left type tropes so i thought what better way to do so than with a butch lesbian and a just-came-out-two-months-ago 17yr old. Alex loses her sister during a ritual summoning to try to being back their parents, and accidentally unleashes a demon in the forest. Fire Ranger Butch Ryder and her dog Sapphie live out in a near by fire tower for the season, and end up taking Alex in while trying to stop this demon from setting her entire forest on fire. I havent worked on the script for that one yet, but i want to focus on Ryder’s butch aspects and show them as desirable and hot. I also think Alex and Ryder being able to bond through their sexuality is a great way to steamroll through two strangers wouldnt work together bc two lesbians stuck in a horror situation would no doubt team up

Dakota is the final girl for Haunted House and oh boy shes gotta be my second favorite. British, fat, shaved head, dyke, 80s type punk chav vibe, hot headed, literally everything to me. She ends up inheriting a house from a family member shes barely heard of, and being a broke mid twenties yr old she immediately is on board. the house has a minor staff run by Ms. Adeline Falls so Dakota doesnt even have to do anything but play head of the house and follow the rules. Except shes really bad at following rules, and the house hates her. cue movie horror montage of a haunted house trying its best to kick the most stubborn girl out. i think this one will have more of a crimson peak/bly manor type vibe than anything? gothic semi tragedy horror is the feel i want to go for. also she basically ends up getting with the house at the end, so theres that

My last final girls are Belle and Julia from Sleep Over (title also in progress) i hesitate to call Julia a final girl since shes the antagonist, but she does end up alive at the end with Belle so ig she counts. very horror comedy with an over the top weird girl, Belle. Belle is absolutely obsessed with horror and the macabre, extending to serial killers and such. she has an entire room dedicated to horror props and set pieces, and she’s extremely elitist about her opinions on the genres. shes very much like May from the movie May, super awkward but much more outgoing with it. Julia and her crew are the new up and coming serial killers of the city, and decide Belle is gonna be their next target. Belle, already unhappy with the groups work and considering a shame to true serial killers, turns her house into a deadly home alone mixed with saw style death trap, and the serial killer trio slowly realize theyre the ones trapped in the house. I really want to give Julia and her crew popular mean girl type vibes. Like hair done poofy, cherry earrings, gold rings, lots of matching pinks, etc. Her and Belle dont end up together or anything but they do get the same life sentence, and the movie ends with what looks like them breaking out together

and thats my girls <3

[squid-ink-symphony]

im really liking story mode and splatoon 2 in general so far, and i just got to the 4th area, so here are some random thoughts i have on it in no particular order.

I rlly like that Marie is basically the only other character here. I may be biased cuz she's my second fav character (shiver is number one ofc) but i just rlly like her commentary. But not have Callie here to also say random stuff is kinda sad..... Like at first i was like yessss lets go only Marie(no offense, i love callie). But i miss her :(

I may be one of the few sheldon enjoyers as someone who actually likes reading all his dialogue, so i appreciate him also being here.

THIS IS HARD. I know i suck at video games... but some of these levels just feel so LONG. And making me fight enemy octolings with a charger is evil. Anyway yeah i need some easier levels spread out between these like splat 3 had. Cuz this is..... not good. I have to keep taking breaks cuz the long levels do be mentally taxing. Like hello this is funny squid game i cant be bad at smth intended for kids. I havent straight up failed a level yet but ive come close.

Hello?????? The ruins of ark whatever its called salmon run map is so cool????? Why dont we have this in splat 3 yet. Its so fun.

speaking of salmon run, not being able to throw eggs or have the movement of splat 3 is so cursed. like, what do u mean thats not a thing????

Yeah the not being able to do the lil charge thing up wallls is so unsatistfying.....

I had to play as a guy cuz i wanted my splat 3 hair. (the ponytail) which i dont usually care about in games, but the girl inklings have cuter voices.... Oh well i am a dude now lol. Luckily gender is a game to me so i dont actually care other than the voice difference

Pearl and Marina my beloveds.... HOW COME WE DONT DONT GET STAGE SPECIFIC DIALOUGE IN SPLAT 3????? not only do deep cut not get many chances to speak in story mode they also have repetitive news segments...... so sad.. its ok i still love them. But yeah i love these funny creechurs. why are they like that. they say so many insane things. pearl and marina are so funky :D

Forcing me to use the hero charger for certain levels is so evil and messed up. I only like dualies, rollers, and sometimes brella. They cant do this to me.. I cannot aim....

As with splat 3 i am enamored with the backgrounds in the story mode levels themselves. i love just wasting like 5 mins just staring at them. I want to make literally any of them my desktop background but idk how to get a good pic of them.... man especially the upside down city looking one in 3. its so pretty and just UGH ITS SO GOOOD/

I am so poor..... what do u mean clothes cost money/?? i have to play the game??? all i want is to dress up my funny lil squid... i need a splatoon spinoff that is just a casual game thats like a dress up/room decoration game. maybe w like a cooking minigame too. thats ideal. like animal crossing or smth but squids. Shooting ppl is stressful.... (dont ask me why i play splatoon if i dont like combat cuz its scary. i couldnt tell u)

WHY ARE ALL THE INK COLORS IN THIS GAME SO MUCH PRETTIER THAN THE SPLAT 3 ONES???? ITS NOT FAIR. Some of these blue's are so pretty... i want...

none of the multiplayer maps have rlly stuck out to me in any way. Like they all just kinda feel the same lol. I think like maybe one or two i thought were cool? but idk the names. i def like the aesthetic of a lot of them.

I wanna just try all the weapons and specials but noooooo i gotta level up. just gimme everything ok

i also wanna explore the stages but as far as i know there isnt recon. I was just gonna do a private battle but turns out u cant do those w one person. And i was so excited cuz there were splatfest stages availbe too...... so sad i just wanna check out the maps but idk how to/if i can do that.....

the amount of times ive fallen off the map in the main level select area of story mode is more than i can count. its not even funny at this point

I also just cannot find some of the scrolls/sardines in some levels despite playing them mulitiple times. Not to just expose myself as incompetent over and over today, but i am 100% gonna need to look up a guide cuz i do not have the patience for this.

Also the rhythm game is surprisingly one of my fav things so far??? Like i am having the most fun ever with this thing. I want it in splat 3 so bad w all the new songs. Its actually just so fun. Like idk maybe better than story mode somehow. Maybe i just have my priorities wrong tho lol

Anyway yeah tats all i have 2 say for now... I think. idk im having fun w the game so yeah

[kiisuuumii]

Things will get better. Know your worth. Sometimes it’s hard to see, especially when you feel let down or unnoticed. Sometimes the best way to get what you want is to be open to it, no matter what form it comes in. You catch more fish with a net than a rod and line. Your talent and way with words does not go unnoticed, and your sensitivity is not a weakness. As a sensitive person, I too struggle with overwhelming emotions. It does however mean that when something feels good, it’s a deeper feeling than others will feel, and it also means your empathy is so strong that you will always be openly compassionate which will encourage others to do the same. You are capable of influencing others to do good deeds as well, and when you are able, the good you feel is incomparable. Focus on your light, what makes you happy by being you. Follow your bliss in yourself, then the need for another to make you happy will become less important. There are ways to create the love you so desire through writing. If you really see yourself in it and feel it for the thing you are writing of, no one can take that away.

-Sky Anon

its a bit of a curse, isnt it?—feeling so much, i mean. youre right though that that means we feel the good just as deeply. i know that things will get better, i'm not one to be so much of a pessimist that i start to really believe that things wont; i very much cling tightly to the probability, no matter how small, that ill one day live the life that i want, in the love that i want, with even more people who love and care about me for who i am, just like i want. one day the things i feel now (and maybe the things you feel now) will be just a memory; we wont remember how we felt, only that we did

i think that might be why i am the way i am in this moment, and lately (i promise im not usually so openly self-deprecating, this is just a particularly rougher patch lmao); i want to hold onto some of the feelings i have right now, for a little while longer, just to really feel them, until im spent. esp when it comes to trying to be open to other forms of the things i want. ive been trying to stay optimistic ofc, but i think if youre stuck on something, theres a reason for it; it wouldnt be smart for me at least to force myself open rn when there are things this closedness is probably trying to teach me

certainly doesnt mean im not trying to move forward tho ! if you can picture it, im always walking on a path forward, only looking back occasionally, while crying my heart out lol

also, one thing you might have a bit wrong about me is that i don't want someone to make me happy. id done a lot of looking for that in other people when i was younger, and as i separated myself from that version of me over the years, ive come to learn how to find and make happiness for myself (even if its not perfect, the way i do it, and even if it takes me a hot minute sometimes); i guess you could say im more looking for someone(s) to be happy with, to live life with, the good and the bad (even when i cant see past the bad at times), and that im trying to put aside some of my own feelings to make room for that

i feel like i sound condescending or dismissive, and im sorry if i do come across that way, but lowkey this helped me kinda see why i still havent let some things go despite my saying so; so thank you, sky anon, for taking the time to write such a heartfelt message !! i might not understand everything yet, but youve given me a piece of clarity thatll at least help me start

[x-lynx-x]

lynx log #2

i wandered into jimmys room, and it was now snowing!! like how there was leaves everywhere in victors room, theres now snow in jimmys(i think it had something to do with nicole waking up, cuz jimmys room kinda looked like hers....)we sat on the bed for a bit n they were having trouble talking, so i thought i'd read a wolvie comic to help get their voice back >:[ theres a lot of comics on our desk that havent been put away yet, so i chose this one cuz it kinda looks like jimmy on the cover.....

so i was reading it(a lot of the panels look a lot like jimmy!!facial recognition stuff) and uhm. this page made me realize something.

nothin special on the page, just was the one i realized on. we're been thinkin a lot lately on if we have a primary soul, n who it might be! cuz everyone seems to think theyre the real soul....but its probably jimmy ): we get a lot of messages thru media n we gotta out them together like puzzle pieces. a message we got a couple years ago(but was reminded of today cuz someone liked one of our old posts abt it) was for a character named church. SO a scientist guy made a clone of his consciousness called epsilon, n put epsilon thru a bunch of simulated trauma, which then split him into other consciousness (like us!) n church was a direct clone of epsilon who didnt remember any of the trauma. and also didnt know abt the experiment!! then eventually he found all the other consciousnesses and epsilon n him fused together n he remembered EVERYTHING!! we've had the word epsilon associated with memories ever since '^' and theres a comic where a guy named epsilon red starts giving wolvie his memories back too!!

we've known abt the experiment since we were uhmmm maybe 11? or 10? we've been gettin hints for awhiilleeee but our recent journey in remembering all of eachother again feels similar to the journey church went on....oh yea! context -> me n my system used to know eachother when we were younger, but around age 15 we all got stuck together n forgot ): but in the past month we've been slowly separating n remembering eachother again!! it was a prophecy for vic n victor(similar but 2 different guys hehe) to spend our bday with jimmy, n it thankfully happened!!! we were worried abt there being a big fight that day(since sabes n wolvie usually fight on that day) n well....that turned out to be true too v_v they forgot how often they fought n there was a fight that morning n victor ended up also fighting with tiff(another member) during the day too(the problem was that jimmy didnt believe either of them were real, n victor even really tried proving himself by fronting for a several days before they remembered eachother! he was searching really hard for jimmy, just like jimmy had been all those years he couldnt remember him...). but that day ended good, so thats all settled now :3 except for the nicole fighting today lol oops.

anywayyyyy back to the story!! after i told jimmy abt this theory, he started changing more into logan(the one in the comic) and vic got concerned and came over to our room. he was crying and didnt know why ): he looked similar to the comic too.

vic held logan for a bit....uhmmm what did we talk about hmm.......OH

right!!!the experiment!!!!so this comic is about how they layer a fake memory over top of real ones, so it implies that sabes n fox were also being experimented on like X was!! so in our case, maybe we're not fake split offs, but rather we're all connected somehow. (we have a member whos name means 'birth of X' btw!!)

that was one of our theories at age 13, that all of us were sleeping in the same lab somewhere. but maybe we knew eachother too.....

the big question is -> whos helping us wake up?

woahhhh cliffhanger :o stay tuned for more fun lynx adventures!!!!!✨✨