#i just lay here not recognizing who tf i am

[traumadumpling]

Sometimes at night I just lay here and get sad that my body has changed so much in the last three years. I also feel like I've missed out on so much of my life. All thanks to my stupid chronic illness.

[musical-chick-13]

Like, I DO think people get too wound up over fictional constructs--that, very pointedly, are not real and whose actions are made up and do not actually affect any real people--doing horrible things in-story, but I also think it's fair for someone to say, "This action sits poorly with me even in a fictional setting, in such an intense way that I cannot move past that or find sympathy for it," and "People are saying this bad behavior isn't actually bad, in a way that is meant to be taken seriously and at face-value, and that makes me severely uncomfortable."

Granted, this all gets muddled very easily because that's not what people mean most of the time, they just want to over-moralize fiction and say, "If you like this pRoBLeMaTiC thing for any reason, you are a menace to society" for Superiority Points. (They also like to invent problems that don't actually exist to "prove" that they have the moral high ground in not liking something remember when people tried to say catra/adora was incest because they grew up together because I sure do.) But I feel like there is a split between people who use "[character] apologism" in the sense of "I will be okay with this character doing whatever fucked-up thing they want in the story because I like them" vs "If you find this character compelling or want them to succeed, you would one-to-one condone their actions irl" vs "I have seen people genuinely say, with no joking or irony, that this character never actually caused any type of harm to the other characters within the story, and I don't like that."

[itsravenbitch]

i’m officially leaving the community bc i just feel i am the only answer i need. but i’d like to say this. <3

often, it’s always “but what if it doesn’t happen?” shit isn’t going well now, so why not give it a FULL SHOT ?! right this second, cut the bullshit & just fully live in the end. i spent all this time from success story to blog. one, we don’t know these people up here. 😭 anything could be anything. two, we all have our own ways we want to live. recognize how seeing all these success stories isn’t enough? recognize how seeing these blogs say the same thing in different colors & fonts isn’t doing anything? bc it’s literally us y’all. we have to do it within. it’s not enough because YOU need to be enough. shit, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. this may not be enough to get some of you outta of this loop of needing to see success or what blogs or whatever tf anyone has to say, but i really hope it is. what got me here?? i sit and lay in my room fucking pissed and say “what if it really doesn’t work??” “what if people are lying?” what if this & what if that. and i finally told myself, bitch what if you actually do something? 💀 i’m sorry but i literally just went off on myself. you sitting here on your ass & feeling bad for yourself bc your sad about the 3d & you don’t know if it’ll work. what is this doing tho? nothing good. shit isn’t working right now, so why not see if it does work??? why keep being in a loop of not knowing when you could just try? so that’s it. i’m on my fucking way & i got my shit together. 🤣 truth be told, we don’t know anybody on this mf. 😭 so if you believe anybody, you better believe in yourself. quite frankly, who even cares if people are lying?? you’ll move on to the next person to give you hope & wanting it to work. so make it work fr. if you’re here because you don’t believe or some other negative shit, how is that helping?? GO. GO DO YOUR THING. we got this. enough is enough, isn’t? LIVE IN THE END RIGHT NOW. it’s better than the loop. be real with yourself and let everything go and JUST LIVE IN THE END. again, we got this! ⭐️ why did it take so long to get here lmao? it’s all within fr. is anything i’m doing giving me a good result? so why not do something that could lead to a good result???? anything is better than being sad & doubtful each day. law of assumption is real. but you need to be real with yourself first. how are you really feeling? what is the issue? are you truly living in the end?? and go from there. fix it & LETS GET IT.

“truth be told, we don’t know anybody on this mf. so if you believe anybody, you better believe in yourself” 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 EXACTLY! not saying anyone is lying, but y’all believe blogs when they tell you they manifested this and that. so why can’t you give yourself the same exact energy??

i love how you worded this too, anon. hopefully this’ll give someone whatever push they need to manifest what tf they want!! do you really want to be stuck in the same loop that you complain about, but also do nothing about ?

some of y’all HATE your current life and don’t do anything bc it’s “comfortable” and its all you know. but comfortable doesn’t mean that situation is the best one. there is so much more than the 4 walls around you. and when you realize that, you’ll literally be unstoppable!

[ghost-town-story]

FebruarOC Day 27: Midnight Siren

(Midnight Siren = the probable name for the Mythological AU. Oh my god this got so long and it’s not even the full scene XD but I figured I’d spare you some of the nuances of how tf werewolf packs work in this AU so it wouldn’t get even longer lol)

Waking up in a hospital was never a fun time. It was significantly less fun when Theo realized that not only was he in a hospital, but he was in a hospital somewhere in Colorado, several hours away from his mom and in the middle of a tour. Not ideal circumstances, to say the least.

Theo kept his eyes closed for a few moments, trying to remember just how he’d gotten here. His memory was spotty though, only dredging up flashes of a dark street, people yelling, and… dogs?

Theo opened his eyes. The ceiling was painted in golden sunlight, warm and welcome compared to his fragmented recollection of where he’d been before waking up here. He gingerly sat up, only to fall back against the pillows with a hiss as his left shoulder throbbed with pain.

A second later, a familiar black and green mask came into sight. “Careful there,” Jaybird said. “You don’t want to hurt yourself any worse.”

“Jay?” Theo gasped. His mind whirled, trying to piece together all the fragments, but all that he got was a slowly building headache. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”

“Long story,” Jaybird said with a shrug. “I’ll explain in a bit. You wanna sit up?”

Theo nodded, not wanting to look so helpless laying down like this.

With Jaybird’s help, they got the hospital bed adjusted so Theo could sit up without straining his shoulder too badly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked again once he was settled. “I thought you guys were down in Florida this weekend.”

“And how do you know my tour schedule so well?” Jaybird asked with a grin.

“Aiden.”

“Ah. Checks out. Like I said though, it’s a long story.”

“Why are you even here then, if you don’t have time to even explain what the hell’s going on?” Theo snapped, losing his patience a little.

“It’s not a question of time,” said a new voice. Theo startled, biting back a whimper as his shoulder flared with pain. “Rather, he knows he’s supposed to wait with the explanations till there’s an adult around,” the newcomer finished.

“Uncle Jared!” Jaybird said. “You’re still here?”

“Of course I am.” The man, Jaybird’s uncle apparently, crossed the room to ruffle Jaybird’s hair. “I may not like hospitals, but it’s my duty to see this through.”

“See what through?” Theo asked, something like dread coiling in his stomach.

“We’ll get to that in just a second.” Jaybird’s uncle grabbed one of the uncomfortable-looking hospital chairs and pulled it up to Theo’s bedside. “First, introductions. I’m Jared, his great uncle.” He nodded at Jaybird, who waved as he grabbed a chair of his own. “And you already know… Do I have to call you whatever it is?”

“Nah.” Jaybird pulled off his mask and flopped down into his seat. “I just figured it would be better if Theo actually recognized me at first.”

Theo blinked at the singer, his brain shorting out. Jaybird and his band had spent an entire summer plus all the time he and Aiden spent chatting keeping their masks on and their real identities a secret. It felt wrong for Jaybird to just suddenly and casually throw that away.

“Anyways,” Jaybird said, filling the silence of Theo’s brain absolutely breaking, “this is Theo, guitarist of Siren’s Call.”

Theo blinked again. Right. Other things were happening. His head hurt. “Uh. Yeah. Hi.”

“Nice to meet you properly,” Jared said with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh.” His headache was slowly getting worse. His shoulder throbbed steadily in time with his heartbeat. He just wanted to go back to sleep and wake up in his hotel room to Nessa throwing herself on top of him, or Aiden climbing into his bed because he was cold. “Fine.”

Thankfully, his blatant lie wasn’t called out. Instead, Jared leaned against the side of his bed. “What do you remember about last night?”

Theo frowned at the question.

“I promise we’ll explain everything,” Jaybird piped up. “Just, go with it please?”

Theo sighed. “Fine. We went out to dinner, I don’t remember the name of the place, it was some local Italian within walking distance of our hotel. On our way back, I wasn’t paying attention and I got lost. After that…” Theo’s hand drifted up to his shoulder, trying to sort through his muddled thoughts. “A dog?” he asked. “Bit me? Is that what happened? I can’t remember too well.”

“You’re not too far off,” Jared said. “Now, Theo.” Theo suddenly felt uncomfortably scrutinized by the man. “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

Theo blinked. “Why do you ask?” he asked slowly.

To his surprise, Jaybird let out a snort of laughter. “How about this,” he said “What all has Aiden told you?”

“Nothing!” Theo immediately said, followed by a wince as he realized just how frantic he sounded.

Jared, meanwhile, was raising an eyebrow at Jaybird. “What does Aiden have to do with this?”

“He’s Summer’s cousin, remember?” Jaybird asked. “From the siren side of the family.”

“Ah,” Jared said, nodding as if that explained everything.

Theo was losing the entire plot. He really wanted a nap right about now, or to curl up in somebody’s lap and stop thinking for a few hours.

“So,” Jaybird continued, “I’m taking that blatant lie to mean that Aiden’s probably told him the basics.”

Finally, Theo felt a puzzle piece click into place. “You guys know?”

“Yes,” Jared said, looking significantly relieved. “James and I, and the rest of our family, are werewolves. The Lunacen pack, to be specific.”

“Cool.” Theo could feel himself passing right over freaking the fuck out and settling directly into that realm of numbness where things might as well just happen because why the fuck not.

“So,” Jared said, “what we know right now is that last night, you were attacked by a member of the Redskill pack. We’re still not sure why they targeted you, but we’re trying to figure that out.”

Theo’s mouth felt dry. “By attacked, do you mean…”

“One of the ways of becoming a werewolf is by being bitten by a werewolf during the full moon,” Jared said. “And last night was a full moon.”

“Cool. Gotcha.” The first thought that popped into Theo’s head was that he was no longer the only human in the band anymore. He had to tamp down a hysterical laugh at the thought.

“You okay man?” Jaybird asked.

Theo gave him a thumbs up in response, because he was pretty sure if he opened his mouth again he would either start laughing hysterically or crying, and he didn’t want to find out which.

“Are you sure?” Jared asked. “I’m sure it’s a big change for you to adjust to—”

“I’m fine.” Neither. Good. Theo took a deep breath. Finish this conversation, get all necessary answers, then the second he was released from the hospital he was going to go find the nearest pillow and scream. Or human-shaped scream-void that gave good cuddles. Whichever was more convenient.

[kithtaehyung]

RYEN u really wanted to break my heart huh,, u wanted me to feel soul crushing sadness from this interlude didn't u. it's a double edged sword getting into yoongi's head bc i know i def wanted to see what he was thinking and how he feels about/around reader and what went down at basketball but poor baby :(

it's so upsetting that he thinks so poorly of himself and that he feels like he isn't enough ,, he puts so much thought into how reader must have been treated badly in the past and recognizes when she starts feeling off because of it but then turns it on himself saying he should do better :( like BABE ?? who hurt him in the past i'm so ready to fight for him he's doing his absolute best like GOD when he's thinking about his GUITAR. no. i'm stopping that right here. it doesn't exist in my brain i just erased it i can't take it. someone give him head scratches rn lay him down and treat him gently for a minute he's so. GOD RYEN i'm actually going to cry thinking about it i'm moving on LMAO

i'm really excited to go back and reread this side by side with all the other pars because getting to see both perspectives and compare how reader and yoongi were feeling/thinkng,,, they're so similar fr. i wish they could see that they're both MORE than good enough for each other and that they're both feeling the same way </3 me telepathically communicating that to them rn it'll get through eventually don't worry i got this !!

but seriously, from what i can remember from my (v recent hehe) reread,, everything ties in so well and adding that extra Flavor and Depth to the scenes UGH i love it here, seriously. i don't think i've ever felt such a strong emotional connection to a published book, let alone a fanfic?? and i'm a bitch who ANNOTATES books, ryen. highlighters, sticky tabs, notes in margins. there's just something about your writing and the way you weave everything together and build on top of the past things you've written that hits just right. it all feels so relatable and real it's DELICIOUS.

i loved seeing the friendship between jimin and yoongi !! i wish yoongi would LISTEN TO HIM tho fr,, reader is so into you AND YOU'RE SO HAPPY WITH HER LIKE ?? i get that bro (did i officially announce myself as team namjoon is bro bc yes) finding out is something that he's worried about, and i get that fr. bro has been there to watch all of yoongi's mistakes, it makes sense that bro would be concerned and maybe even upset, especially about them keeping it a secret for so long but like,, bro even dom admitted that yoongi was different with her. i rlly think he would come around after he saw them together bc god they just,, they both are just so good to each other and they care so much for each other </3 heart hurty

anyways here take the lines that i would highlight tf out of if this was anywhere that i could do that lol

"Just this once. Let him be the only one that worries." OUCHIES

“I did what I thought you would do.” yes yoongi would in fact go to the ends of the earth to make sure she was safe thank you for pointing that out and hurting me jimin .

“What are you gonna do once you stop?” um hahaha who said there had to be an end ahahahahahaha nooooo ahaha stop jimin ahaha dw i'll distract bro for the rest of forever he will simply not find out !!!

"What the fuck are you doing to him?  If you came up to him right now? He’d give you anything you wanted. All you’d have to do is say it." i am punching a wall right now btw :-) "Once a space that saw many destructive arguments and silent, unfinished meals, your appearance started giving it new life. New energy. Energy that he can physically feel as he passes it on the way to his room." i can't take this one actually "Lips at your temple, he vows, “That won’t happen again, love.” okay so this was a personal attack and i can't accept this i want to get you back for this so bad i am crying i can't take this this is kind of like embarrassingly long and if i tell u i've reread this 2.5 times already you WILL pretend it's been longer than a day. ig i could copy paste this into the feedback form but <3 it's already here so i will apologize for the wall of text . i did indeed get carried away but such is life -loona anon (should have a character limit fr)

LOONA ISTG THIS REVIEW IS DAMN DELICIOUS. apologies for not getting to it sooner! i needed the right amount of energy to respond bc holy hell you typed so much and i appreciate it sm :')) did i wanna break hearts? yes and no. i didn't wanna write yoongi's inner thoughts like that, but that's what they were. so i didn't wanna disrespect his character by writing it lightly. rest under the cut bc i have an essay lol

you're right. it's completely upsetting to know this is how he thinks of himself. whatever happened before seemed to really stick with him, to the point where he doesn't even give himself credit for anything good - only the bad (like being the reason the threat was made, etc.) when he's thinking about the guitar? i wanted to cry and i did tear up a lot. so. yeah. i understand if you cry while thinking about that bc i know i did. especially considering the song he played for reader in dalo.

OOOH yes!! they were actually meant to be read side by side if you have the time/resources to try it. i had to make sure they lined up well, despite their thought flows being different. i hope your telepathy works! the flavor worked? i'm glad.

oh my gosh.. a strong emotional connection to something i've created? that is one of the highest compliments i could ever receive, truly. maybe it can be printed someday so you can annotate it and keep it forever! i would love to hear commentary like that. i'm glad it's all woven together in a coherent way. i'm having so much fun and i hope you continue to enjoy the rest!

JIMIN AND YOONGI MY BOYSSSSSS UGH. i love them so fcking much it is absurd. (putting you on team joonie!) i know we all see that reader and yoongi have huge chemistry and care between each other, and the people that are around them enough can see it. but the thing with bro is that he's not actively looking for that. all he sees is his best friend and his sister, and they've had banter between each other ever since the old days. coupled with the fact that he's been gone and is thinking about so many other things. i just think it would be one of the last things on his mind, whereas people like dom and jimin can see the slipping bc yoongi and reader act different without bro around.

now for your annotation worthy lines:

"Just this once. Let him be the only one that worries." YEAH THIS ONE BROKE ME.

“I did what I thought you would do.” oh god... yeah. you picked the hard hitters, didn't you.

“What are you gonna do once you stop?” REALITY IS A BIIIIICH

"What the fuck are you doing to him?  If you came up to him right now? He’d give you anything you wanted. All you’d have to do is say it." i am punching a wall right now btw :-)

"Once a space that saw many destructive arguments and silent, unfinished meals, your appearance started giving it new life. New energy. Energy that he can physically feel as he passes it on the way to his room." you know what they say about unfinished meals in literature...

"Lips at your temple, he vows, “That won’t happen again, love.” HE SAID IT AGAIN. HE DID. THE SECOND TIME AND ITS WHEN READER IS ASLEEP dklfjdkvj

thank you so much for all of this, love. i thoroughly enjoyed it all and read it a shameful amount of times before finally putting this hopefully coherent response together. seriously, thank you!

[dadsbongos]

Reges Sumus

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa (which game/anime? who tf knows) Dynamic: Izuru Kamukura/Reader (heavily mentioned Hajime Hinata/Reader) Warnings: despair arc tings, i tried to put more into izuru’s character so i’m sorry if he comes out ooc :( Summary: Izuru knows he’s miserable, but he can never find himself pulling away. ~~~

“The world has fallen into despair. A despair so deep the entirety of humanity has cascaded into bloodlust. Anger. Fear. Hatred. Those outside our walls feel it all. Those outside our walls are jealous of us. Of our hope. Of our unity. Of our home. We cannot let them take us. We cannot let them take anything that is rightfully ours. Protect this place with your lives, for if you fall - so does our hope. So do I. So go out and fight, fight with all you have, fight with all you are. For your spouses, for your parents, for your children - for me. As long as you do so, we can save this world. We will save this world using my Ultimate as a weapon.”

“Praise be, oh Dominus.”

“Praise be, Reges Sumus.”

(Y/n) outstretched her arms to the crowd, “Now go, my children, my loves, save this world!”

In near perfect synchronist, the people pulled down their masks and turned to the large front door of the ransacked mansion, picking up their guns, bats, and knives as they left. Just in case, of course, it wasn’t their fault if someone wasn’t willing to give their rations to the leader. Same as it wasn’t their fault if their bat slipped over someone’s head, hard enough to crack open the skull like a nut, or if their fingers slipped over the trigger long enough to kill a small family over a can of beans. It wasn’t their fault. It was despair’s. It was Junko Enoshima’s.

“Dominus, aye?”

Looking to the source of the voice, (Y/n) gave the boy a close-eyed smile, she turned completely and waved off the guards that escorted the pair, “Fuyuhiko, Peko, my dears!” she let her hands fall on the blond’s cheeks, pressing a holy kiss to his forehead, leaving a lipstick stain in her wake before moving onto Peko and doing the same, “It’s lovely to have you visit.”

They both knew better than to wipe off the lipstick stains on their skin, anything even close to slander aimed at (Y/n) could be met with merciless death at her follower’s vengeful hands.

Fuyuhiko looked about the lavish room, decorated with stolen jewels and furniture, before nodding, “Not fuckin’ shabby.”

“Thank you,” (Y/n) clasped her hands together, bringing them to her chest in delight, “As much as I adore having you here, I must ask why drop by so suddenly?”

Peko piped up, “We got chased out of a hideout. Kazuichi thought it’d be funny to send us some Monokumas.”

“Oh, my! That’s not good at all,” the girl shook her head before turning and beginning to walk up a set of stairs, “Come.”

Following close after, Fuyuhiko watched as his fellow Despair trailed her fingertips gently over the paintings of herself hung in the hall. (L/n), (Y/n), Ultimate Charisma, had truly built herself a cult of lies. The belief that somehow her followers could rebuild the world and rid it of despair, somehow she could save the world with the power of her ultimate status.

She had no intention of doing so, but it gave the people something to believe in and fight for - and that was good enough.

“Here we are,” (Y/n) opened a bedroom door, a queen-sized mattress laying on the floor with no bed frame, “It’s the best I can do at the moment, my dearest apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fuyuhiko brushed off - he knew better than to complain.

Peko nodded, “This is enough.”

“I’m glad,” she gestured the pair inside, taking each of their hands and pressing a kiss to their knuckles, “Anything for my comrades.”

As she left, she shut the door. What despair would become of the poor soul whose room that was, a shiver went down (Y/n)’s spine at the mere thought.

Minor, of course, but only in the moment. It was one of many things that would slowly build up into a cacophony - and she was reveling in it.

Entering her own room, (Y/n) jumped slightly at the dark silhouette standing by her king-sized mattress, completed with the fanciest bed frame she could steal, before recognizing the long, flowing hair. She smiled at the boy, hands already reaching out for him, “Oh, Izuru, my darling,” she took his cheeks, lovingly brushing her thumbs over the bones and bringing his forehead to her lips in a staining kiss, “Did you get in with Fuyuhiko and Peko?”

He made no gesture of nodding but the agreement was there, or perhaps he simply ignored her question and she was projecting upon a blank canvas, “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to start a cult, but won’t they tear you apart when they realize what you’ve done?”

The lies she’s told. The things she’s stolen. The people she’s killed. The sins living in her veins thrived on every weeping babe and execution splattering across these walls of hers.

“Isn’t that the point? The despair. Having everything I’ve worked for crumble when the worms revolt,” she answered, sitting upon her bed and patting the space beside her for Izuru, “Sit, my dear, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” he corrected.

“No, but I missed your face,” she leaned over, not particularly caring of any personal boundaries he may have, and brushed back his hair, slicking it away from his face and tying it back, “Well, it’s not truly your face, is it?”

Izuru didn’t respond, simply watching as the woman took a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“It’s Hajime Hinata’s,” her smile faded for the first time in a long time, a soft frown taking its place, “We were close, you know?”

“So I’ve heard,” Izuru grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist as her fingertip brushed his cupid’s bow, “I have no memory of that, you know.”

“I do.”

“So don’t force me to.”

“I’m not,” denying his claim, (Y/n) knew he didn’t believe her - though to be fair, she didn’t believe herself either, “I just like the despair of being so close, yet so far, from my beloved Hajime.”

Silence festered within the room once again.

A smile slowly teased back onto (Y/n)’s face, “You must be tired, but there’s something I simply have to show you.”

He knew where she was going with this, an attempt at recruitment as usual, but something deep, deep, deep down told him to go along with it. Perhaps it was a rare pity.

Perhaps it was the part of him enamored with the one called Dominus.

Perhaps it was the part of him that mourned the Ultimate Gamer.

Perhaps it was both.

Perhaps it was him. 

Any which way, he stood and followed after the woman, the red of the sky drenching the walls through cracked, dusty windows as they traversed down the hallway.

Passing Fuyuhiko and Peko’s room, passing the guard’s posts, passing the main room - (Y/n) led Izuru to a room at the very end of the grand corridor. Cardboard had been hastily tacked onto the wood with messy, uneven letters spelling out ‘nursery’ in bold. She pushed the door open easily enough, despite the clear indication it should’ve been locked, and gestured the long-haired man through. 

It was dark save for the faint light emanating from a baby monitor hooked onto a stained crib in the corner with ‘K.S’ etched into the corner. From what Izuru could see, there were about four cribs in the room and all of them filled with a sleeping baby.

“I feel no sympathy for babies in despair.”

“I never wanted kids,” (Y/n) brushed past the man and his words, her voice quiet to avoid waking the children, “I always thought they were snotty, whiny, loud, annoying little money-suckers who took and took and took until they were of age to take care of themselves and then they leave you forever…” she ran a finger over the sticky wood, “and I still do. But Hajime,” she hesitantly took a glance at Izuru, knowing she’d never find what she wanted in his gaze, “Hajime liked kids. He wasn’t sure he wanted any but I think he might’ve.”

Izuru watched the woman slowly revert back to his side to watch the babies as they slept, “So?”

“Do you want kids, Izuru?”

“I’m a war criminal.”

“War criminals can want kids, can’t they?” she huffed at his difficulty, previously cheery attitude slipping into her real feelings, “Someone being unfit to be a parent doesn’t stop them. I don’t know of any restrictions preventing someone from having a child, do you?” when he didn’t respond, she continued, “Hajime’s parents were unfit and still, they had him. I’m glad he was born but I wish it was to better people.”

“He didn’t seem to resent them. From what little I can feel of him.”

“He doesn’t seem to resent a lot of people he should. But it’s his life, who am I to interject?” she sarcastically mumbled, patience for Izuru Kamukura growing thinner, “I told him the procedure was an awful idea and look who’s standing next to me…”

“You seem to hate me and yet you strangely desire me at your side.”

“I told you already, it’s the despair.”

“I’m not stupid, (Y/n), I can see through you.”

Her shoulders tensed.

“Your request is impossible and you know that.”

She just wants her boyfriend back, is that really so much to ask for?

“My request is…” she paused, pursing her lips and furrowing her brows, “My request is…”

“I’ll be taking a room for the night,” he coldly informed.

“Stay with me,” (Y/n) took Izuru by his sleeve, fingers grasping at the clothes she’d never seen on her lover before - and she still hasn’t, technically. Because it wasn’t him, no matter how much she wished for him to magically wake up and be Hajime again - deep down, she knew better.

Izuru looked at the woman, her eyes slowly wetting and bottom lip quivering. She didn’t want him. She may have thought he was attractive, but that was only because he had stolen a man’s face.

She’d never want him.

It… stung. To know a woman so enamored with a lesser version of yourself, or who you had taken over, wasn’t similarly enamored with you. And she never could be. He didn’t like feeling so hurt over her rejection. He didn’t like knowing why it hurt.

Because he always wanted her.

He shook off her hand before wordlessly leaving the room and beginning his trek towards their shared abode for the night.

He wasn’t Hajime Hinata, he was Izuru Kamukura and he knew that no matter how much he wanted the sting to die, he would still be Izuru Kamukura when he woke up in (Y/n)’s arms the next morning.

It was Junko’s curse.

It was despair.

[jinkicake]

Freaky On Camera

Osamu, Oikawa, Sakusa reacting to their s/o sending them the lyrics to Doja Cat’s ‘Cyber Sex’ (like the tiktok challenge).

Miya Osamu x Reader

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

I hope this is fine Anon~ This is my first time writing Sakusa so I hope it isn’t too ooc,,,, I really like him LOL. Also, I don’t support Miss Doja or condone any of her actions because that bitch never really apologized for the shit she pulled. However, her music does slap. 

WC- 1,485

~~~

Miya Osamu

I wanna get freaky on camera

‘Samu would know what tiktok is but I don’t know if he would be on it,,,,,

He would be familiar with it because of Atsumu, you can’t tell me that mf does not make thirst trap tiktoks that gain hundreds of thousands of likes 

So Osamu would know the gist of the app but he probably has zero clue of what happens on it

He’d take your snaps so seriously like this mf would actually think you’re going to sext him LMFAOO

Please, he would be so pissed when he finds out they are lyrics and not your actual thoughts

His reaction would be so funny, it would be dirty talk like ‘how badly do you want it?’

And then you’d post it on tiktok and it would go viral because of how intense his reaction is

Osamu only finds out because Atsumu shows him your video, his brother would be like “’Samu you were on my fyp!”

And Osamu is like “tf is a fyp”

Osamu would be sooo mad, he’d start ignoring you, you’d have to stroke his ego a little bit to get him to forgive you

“Osamu.” Silence. “O-sa-mu.” Silence. You puff your cheeks out in frustration and stare the side of your boyfriend’s face, he refuses to even look at you. “I’m sorry.” You apologize and Osamu turns to look at you, narrowing his eyes to pierce you in the process.

“Look at this comment. ‘chill out dude, it’s just some song lyrics’ It got twelve thousand likes.” Your boyfriend complains and you move to sit next to him on his bed though, with the way Osamu is moving away from you, he would rahter cuddle with the wall before he touches you.

“Yeah but the top comment says that I’m so lucky because you’re such a cute boyfriend! It has forty thousand likes!” You try and compromise and Osamu pouts a little bit. “Everyone is just jealous that they don’t have an Osamu, and I do!” You lean down and presses kisses all over his face, Osamu scrunches his nose.

“You want to know why I was so mad?” He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you into his chest, laying you down on top of him.

“Why?” You ask cautiously and continue to stare him in the eye.

“Because I got a boner from those pictures,” Osamu confesses and you don’t know whether you want to coo in awe or laugh out loud.

“Seriously?” You refuse to believe it. 

“Seriously.” He confirms and you laugh so hard his entire house shakes, you don’t stop laughing even when tears are streaming down your cheeks and when Osamu pushes you off of him to sulk against his wall.

“I’m flattered, my sweet precious love~” You coo but can’t help the chuckles that leave your lips. “Awe, baby, are you mad at me again?” You poke Osamu’s arm and he growls in annoyance. “Let me make it up to you, I’ll take care of all your boner problems.”

Not before you laugh for the next twenty minutes, after that, then you will start to do stroke his cock ego.

Oikawa Tooru

Wish you were here right now, all of the things I’d do

You don’t think the Tiktok legend Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t recognize what you’re doing the second you send it?? Because he would,,

Let’s say you do try it, you’re not going to get that far

After you send the first lyric, Oikawa will literally send you the rest of the lyrics with his own pictures to match

You don’t even have time to process that he overtook your challenge

I feel like, Oikawa would then post his photos later and tell his followers that he did the challenge better than you

You best believe his comments are full of people kissing his ass and telling him how cute he is

The tiktok went viral, by the way, Oikawa is a tiktok star

“Why can’t you let me have my moment Tooru?”

“Because I do it better, (Y/N)!”

Oikawa would then redo another challenge with you and make sure you’re the star in it so you can have your five minutes of fame. It would also go viral, but not as viral as his videos of him and Matsukawa

I wanna touch on you. You send Oikawa a picture of yourself as you lay back on your bed, your mind ruled with boredom. The curiosity of how Oikawa would react keeps clouding your mind. Before you even get a second to take the next picture Oikawa has already snapped you back. 

You click on the little red square and screenshot the mirror picture Oikawa sent you. His back is arched like he is trying to break it and his head is tilted at an odd angle. You see me in my room.

You barely get enough time to screenshot the picture before Oikawa sends another. This time when you open it, it is him and Matsukawa. It’s another mirror pic and their hands are curved into little hearts. Wish you were here right now.

You decided to let Oikawa take over the challenge and just wait patiently for his next snap, each picture he sends gathers more people. In this snap, it is him, Matsukawa and Hanamaki. It’s just a simple selfie with all of them cheesing like the dorks that they are. All of the things I’d do.

In the back of your mind, you start to wonder where Iwaizumi is. The next picture comes just as quickly as the first three and this time, it is just Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Mainly Oikawa with Iwaizumi in the back trying to practice his serve. I wanna get freaky on camera.

The next photo doesn’t come for another ten minutes, this time it is a Hanamaki centered photo. It’s a selfie with his bright smile and in the background, Oikawa is getting smack upside the head by Iwaizumi. I love when we get freaky on camera. ;-)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

I wanna touch on you

Sakusa is the type to always be on his phone and never answer your texts

He’d purposely swipe away your notification until he wants to open it, you’ve seen him do it with your own eyes

When he finally does open your snaps, he leaves them on open

LMFAO then he will text you three hours later asking if you had dinner yet, caring boyfriend thingz~

If he does choose to respond to your snaps it’ll be something like ‘I’ve seen that before, try something else’

Or he will tease you and say ‘aren’t you supposed to send that to your boyfriend?’

Like Sakusa,,, a-aren’t you my boyfriend? TTT

I think he would screenshot your photos just to have them so he can always look at them and be soft

Or he would zoom in really close on your face and make it his lock screen so it’d look like you’re trapped in his screen

Someone would ask ‘who’s that on your phone’ and he’d just be like ‘my ugly s/o’ LOL

“Please, Kiyoomi.” You whine and stare at your boyfriend with puppy dog eyes. Sakusa dips his dark-haired head and stares at you back, his face emotionless. He sighs and goes back to scrolling through his phone. “Please do the tiktok trend with me or at least pretend to react.” You beg and Sakusa refrains from rolling his eyes, he glances at you once more and nods his head.

“Fine.” At his words you reach up and kiss his temple, your heart flutters when Sakusa leans into your touch. “What do I do?”

“Okay, so I am going to send you some snaps and you just have to send your reaction to me back in a snap.” You explain and Sakusa purse his lips into a little pout.

“Why do I have to do this?” He asks and you lay back to take your first snap.

“Because you love me~”

Much to your dismay, your answer is met with silence.

After you send the pictures you watch your boyfriend with hawk eyes at how he reacts. His face doesn’t change at all. He tilts his head in curiosity at one of the pictures and you note how he screenshots every single one of them. Sakusa glances at you and when you eagerly nod back at him he sends you a reply, a simple picture of his face and his familiar mask covering more than half of it.

The photo has a simple caption, busu.

“Can I post your picture?” You ask and Sakusa sighs, it’s not like it’s going to blow up right?

“Yes.”

Wrong choice Sakusa. The tiktok does blow up, and it’s only because all the comments are filled with how hot Sakusa is despite only being able to see his eyes and up.

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane

[figonas]

Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

[whumpmatsus]

I’m gonna pass tf out shortly BUT because I’m nuts with passion for this AU, here’s a sneaky peeky of Puzzle Pieced chapter 2~

GETT HYYYYYPED

Matsuyo chuckles and reaches for something under her chair. “You were always one of our most strong-willed boys. Do you want to see a picture of your brothers? Though I’m not sure it would be of any use, and it probably won’t jog your memory… obviously, we only have pictures of you boys as kids. I set a box of them down here earlier… just in case you… wanted to see.”

“Oh, my God… please!” He has a sneaking suspicion what they’re all going to look like. Regardless, he slides the photo closer as soon as she sets it down on the table.

As soon as he lays eyes on it, he recognizes these boys. He doesn’t know any of their names, of course, and he isn’t even actually sure which one is him.

But looking at it conjures memories of every strange dream he’s ever had of these same-faced children. These are the boys from his dreams, the ones who look exactly like him, the ones his dream-self knows as his best friends. The ones he cries for when his dream-self is torn away from them.

They’re dressed similarly in this picture ― the same shirts in different shades, most likely color-coded for the parents of six identical children to be able to tell them apart more easily. They’re all smiling, hugging each other, as if they were caught in a candid moment and not aware someone was taking a photo.

They all look like happy little boys, siblings who don’t know anything except how to love each other and maybe count to ten on their fingers.

He doesn’t really know them. Looking at this picture, though, he feels an unmistakable ache in his chest: he misses them.

“Which one am I?” he asks, glancing up at Matsuyo. “D… do you know?”

“Maybe I couldn’t tell you apart as babies,” she chuckles, “but once you all started to walk and talk, there was no mistaking any of you for each other.”

She points to the green-clad child in the photo. “This is you in the green shirt. You tried to be a troublemaker, you had such an attitude, but if you got in trouble, you’d go running to your big brothers to protect you from Mama’s punishment. It never worked, even when you switched clothes, but you still tried.”

He chuckles, his face coloring again. Although he remembers being a bit of a brat when he was a kid, he was certain he grew out of it fairly quickly. “A-ah, oh, wow… haha… s-so, wait… what order were we born in? I-I mean, I have older brothers, so… am I the youngest?”

Matsuyo shakes her head. “Oh, no, dear. You’re the third eldest.”

So… I’m a middle kid. I have big brothers… but I also have little brothers.

He thinks he likes that idea.

[itriedandimtired]

Birthday

a/n: GUESS WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS– I've had this in my draft since March, and the moment it became May I was like- “why don't I publish this on his birthday?”, so here we are! Happy Birthday Roman Sanders 😔❤✨ also thank you so much to @palette6 (is that the url? They're deactivated I can't tag them :( ) for helping me with parts of whatever this is! :D

AU: Human!AU

Genre: Hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: toxic mother, feeling bad, hint of s*x joke, a little crying as well. it will be fluff by the end tho, oh also a LOT of time skips, bad writing because I'm too lazy to edit-

_____________

Roman jolted up on his bed.

School.

Roman thought, he gets up quickly turning to his door. That's when he stops for a second, recalling the fact he won't be going to school today. Of course, Patton was disappointed, but that was Roman's parents decision.

His parents insisted on visiting his brother, Remus. Roman had just plan to go out with Patton today, but guess his birthday can't go as well as he wishes.

Birthday.

‘One year closer to death’, as Virgil would say.

Roman sigh as he flops back onto his bed. He glance at his bags those he had packed up last night.

He will need to get ready soon.

_____(beep boop time skoop)_____

Roman dried himself up as soon as he finished taking bath. Usual morning, usual routine.

He soon changes into his outing outfit; which includes a pastel red sweater, skinny jeans, quarter white socks and his slip-on shoes.

Ding!

His phone lights up from the notifications.

Space nerd 🌌: Happy birthday, Roman.

Padre 🐶❤: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROMAN!! 💖💗💓💕

Emo nightmare 🕷: yo princey, happy birthday lmao

Okay, that made Roman smiled. God, he loves his friends so much.

He send replies to them, simple ones as his mother already called for him.

Roman shuts his phone then slips it into his pocket as he walks over to his bags, picking them up and walks outside his house in a fast pace.

He placed his bags inside the car, was ready to take a seat-

“You're not going to help your father? Really? ”

Those words from his mother hurts. He takes a deep breathe as he makes his way to his father and helps with what he could. He could tell this will be a tiring day, though anything barely starts.

_____(time skip brought to you by my love for Roman)_____

It was half-way through the journey when Roman had his earbuds on.

“Laying down my pride, I need to tell you how much I need you now.”

He leans against his window as he lets his mind drift off to the song. He loves the song, it reminds him of the time back then when he was mean to others, specifically Virgil.

He really wants to apologize, he really does. He just doesn't know how to. He just-

“ROMAN!”

He flinched at the call, quickly pulling off one of his earbuds as he stares at his mother. “Ye- yes?” He stuttered out.

“Jesus Christ, you're always with your earbuds! What are you even listening to?”

“I was listening to a song-”

“Well, does it have anything to do with your education?”

“No-”

“Then it's not worth it!”

Roman chew on his lower lips, he hates this. He doesn't like it when his mother keeps yelling at him for whatever interest he has.

“Roman, you're falling behind from your friends already. Quit disappointing me.”

Roman only nods at that, he only nods at every single words his mother yelled.

“How do you want it? How do I say it? How do I let you know that I'm sorry? ” the song played.

What a perfect timing.

_____(another time skip I'm so sorry-)_____

“Roman, pass me the tissue.”

Roman woke up from his sleep, barely awake. He passes his mother the tissue box – that's what she wanted, right? – weakly, haven't gaining his energy yet.

He swear he felt the tissue box was lift up, he swear someone had taken the tissue box from his hand. So why had it fallen when he let it go?

“Roman! God, can't you do a single thing right?!” his mother started yelling.

Roman is fully awake now, shrinking himself. He glance out of the window as his mother is still yelling, noticing how they're in front of the hotel they'll be staying at.

Only God knows how grateful he is for that.

Soon, but not soon enough, his mother stopped yelling. “Whatever, just go help your father with the bags.” Roman nods, getting out of the car to his father.

“Here, bring these. I'll bring the others.” His father said as he hands the younger male a bunch of bags. Roman takes them carefully, balancing himself and he makes his way to the hotel's main door.

“Hey, son?”

Roman stops, turning to his father.

“Happy birthday,” his father smiled.

Roman froze, before he returns the smile and whispers a soft “thank you”.

_____(last time skip I swear-)_____

Roman lies on the bed as he stares at the ceiling. He doesn't share the same room with his parents, which he thinks is a very good idea. Not only can he avoid his mother, but he could gives his parents some space if they're into.. something.

Roman chuckled at the thought, Remus had rub off on him. Then he remembered what happened that day. It's not that he's not used to is, because he is. He doesn't even know why his heart broke so much that day whenever his mother yells at him.

Could it be because it's his birthday? He doesn't know either. He never really feels like anyone care, so why is today any different? Why is his heart so sensitive specifically that day? Why are his emotions so messed up? Why-

Then he broke down. Roman burst into tears, he doesn't stop for quite a while. He doesn't know how long has he been crying, but it sure as hell feels really long.

His phone's ringing is what stopped his crying. He looks at his phone, realizing it was his friends who are calling him, and he's not in the mood for that. So he waits, until the ringing stops.

And when it does, he sighs of relief. The notification, however, changed his mind.

Space Nerd 🌌: Roman, I believe you do not want to upset Patton. I suggest you answer the phone next time.

Emo Nightmare 🕷: Dude, answer ur phone tf

Padre 🐶❤: answer the phone plsss :(

Roman stares at his phone, if Logan and Virgil agree on a thing; he knows for a fact that he should be doing whatever that is. But doesn't mean he can't disagree. Patton saying it, however–

Whatever, it was too late for that anyway.

Riiiingggg!

Or not. He sprinted to the bathroom, splashing water to his face. He messily wipes the water away before he answer the phone.

“Roman!!” Patton speaks happily, as Virgil only shows his ceiling leaving Logan to formally greet Roman.

“Hey guys! What's up?” Roman greets through the phone, Virgil then lifts up his phone revealing his eyes and eyeshadows under them. “What's up? It's your birthday, duh!” Virgil says.

“Yep! Oh, we prepared something!” Patton informed, getting up from the chair he was sitting on and sprinted to somewhere else. Roman is shocked, to say the least. This is his first birthday to celebrate with his friends, even if it's through the phone. He clearly hadn't expected anything more than a “Happy Birthday”.

However, here he is; laying on a hotel bed while he's face timing his friends, confused to why had his friends prepared something for his birthday.

Then Patton is back, with a paper in his hands. “We were planning to give it to you today, but you didn't come to school. But that's alright! I will read it out to you, alright?” Patton says cheerfully.

“Alright??” Roman answers- well, more like questioning.

“I will start with mine first! May I?”

“Of course, Patton. Go ahead.” Logan speaks, for the first time since his greet.

Patton takes a deep breath, before he starts reading the paper.

“Hola, Roman!” Roman quickly recognized the usage of Spanish, and he must admit; he's impressed that his friends even remember that he could speaks in Spanish. “If you're reading this – well more like listening now – happy birthday kiddo! I know you're going through some stuff, especially with your self-esteem–” Roman quickly teared up at the words “–but you stayed strong, and that honestly impressed me. I've always said this but, I'll always be here for you. You don't have to be afraid, because I'll fight for you just like how you Fight For Me.” Roman chuckled at the Heathers reference as he rubs his watery eyes. “Thank you, Puffball,” Roman muttered, luckily loud enough for the others to hear.

“You are very welcome! Logan, do you want to read yours by your own?” Patton asks directly at the logical male among the four. “That would be,, nice, Patton. Ahem- Roman, I'd like to wish you a happy birthday.”

It was quiet for a while, to the point Roman questioned if Logan is done. That was, until Logan speaks again.

“I also would like to let you know, you might as well be one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me. Having you as my best friend is an honor, admittedly. Though you could be loud and obnoxious at times, you still stick with me until now. I always thought friends will never be my main priority but, you proved me wrong–” Logan takes a deep breath “–I started my journey alone, until you came along. From that, the four of us got along. I am never great with emotions, so I hope you get what I mean.”

Roman was stunned, he never thought Logan out of all people would be the one who said such a thing.

“What I'm trying to say is, thank you Roman. For everything you've sacrificed, though it might looks silly, I know it means a lot to you.” Logan spoken again, which froze Roman even more. The tears he had wipe away are just coming back again threatening to fall off his eyes.

“Virgil? Would you like to read it by yourself or-”

“God- please read it for me, I don't think I have the courage.”

“Certainly,” Logan flips the paper he was holding. “Oh- I don't think me reading this would be a great option, so uh- Patton, if you'd like?” Logan phrased unsurely.

“Of course!” Patton flips his own paper before reading Virgil's letter.

“Yo, Princey. Happy birthday. So uh, y'know I'm not good with expressing feelings with words and cliches bs like this–” Patton had look confused when he reads the word ‘bs’, however let it go “–but just to let you know, I appreciate your efforts. I know you've been trying to improve yourself and trying to be less mean to me, and you're doing great. Yeah, you were a jerk and all but hey, past is the past and let's get over it. I know you feel guilty, and you're allowed to. But just know, you don't have to. And oh, another thing;” Patton smiled excitedly, before he reads out the last sentence.

“Thank you for willing to accept me, and now I'd do the same to you.”

Roman was crying, at that point. Sure, he was crying as well before they were video chatting but this time.

This time, he feels happy. He feels loved, accepted and content.

Breathlessly, he whispered “Thank you so much, for everything.”

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 28

catch me completely ignoring dark cybertron lmao

yeahhhh so I'm just gonna skip dark cybertron bc no thanks. I did read the tf wiki articles for the issues tho, which is more than I did in the past, so at least now I kinda know what happened, though I had to suffer thru reading about dark cybertron to learn stuff about it. yikes. reading ABOUT dark cybertron further enforced my decision to not actually read thru it

anyways. the best part of dark cybertron was when chromedome threw prowl off that cliff. that was baller lmfao

a 1 page recap of dark cybertron is about all I can handle. thank you

ooh, the 6 months later smash-cut, I fucking love itttt

nautica’s here!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy I love her. also brainstorm, and I love their friendship sm

hvbjdkhfbshdfj god I love them. they have such a fun dynamic 

everyone eavesdropping on a therapy session vhbhdjkhafbhkjsdf. hipaa laws mean nothing as usual 

the casual reveal of captain megatron, oh god 

the title fucking slaps, as usual. this is one of my favorites - ‘world, shut your mouth.’ great stuff, and a song title/reference to boot! and this being part 1: towards peace...chefs kiss

and then we flash back to 6 months earlier...yknow now that I'm rereading this, mtmte has a LOT of framing devices used - there's story-within-a-story, flashback/flash-forwards, storytelling with narration, etc...I love it

god hbvhjakdfbshjkdf rodimus saying ‘magic’ and then the little *magic = science rodimus doesn't understand HBGKJHSDBFKHJSDF my idiot boy ily

rodimus roasting prowl is my fav hbfjdkafshsbjkf ‘maybe the knights can help us find a cure for your personality’ ily sm

and then prowl agreeing w/rodimus a few panels later about megatron’s guilt...

optimus...don't you think that making yourself chief of justice is...maybe a bad idea...like, maybe there's a conflict of interests here...just a little bit of bias...a bit too much history, perhaps...

the fact that all the big roles in the trial were given to high-ranking autobots who were heavily involved in the war...I see that cybertrons justice system is as much of a farce as their medical ethics and patient confidentiality laws 

the ‘you BROKE the MATRIX’ panel is so good bjhkdhfbajskhdf

rodimus: LISTEN dad I just wanna resume my space cruise with my frat bro ship I have no interest in politics

psychiatrists HATE him! local former warlord refuses to recognize the validity of psychological analyzation of people’s actions

ravage casually breaking hipaa laws and chilling in megatron’s therapy session like >:3

I love rung...he’s so good at like, passive-aggressively cutting right to the heart of someone’s issues, and he’s so generally mild that you can’t even really get mad at him 

the sudden inclusion of megatron as a major character in mtmte is kinda jarring at first - mostly, for me at least, due in part because I didn't read dark cybertron so this is like, megatron’s introduction as a relevant character in general - but I feel like jro does a great job laying a lot of intrigue down from the very beginning w/his character - like, I already want to know more about what his whole deal is, even though we have, ostensibly, seen pretty much all of his story play out already 

rung name-dropping froid...i remember that made me lose my shit bc cmon. FROID....jesus christ

rung and megatron: holy shit! we’re suddenly being drawn in a 90s-esque sci-fi tron-looking retro-futuristic style!

interesting that megatron sought rung out, and not the other way around

RIPTIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favorite sharkboy is HERE

CREWDITIONS...YES....

‘we’re not allowed to take anyone who might remind rodimus of prowl’ vhbhjdkshfbhaskfd brutal

I love nautica so so much. a perfect autistic scientist after my own heart

I adore that nautica brought chromia along for moral support

hgvbjdakhfbhsj and then swerve saying that rodimus hates ‘trisyllabic names’ and nautica is like....but....‘rodimus’.....

and then nightbeat busts in to get all bbc sherlock on they asses hgbfhjadkfbjaskdf

WHY was perceptor at the crewditions if he was already part of the crew lmao

ooof, and then we have megatron flipping out when chromedome, a mnemosurgeon, shows up

also damn the autobots were rlly like okay so we wanna speed this trial up so lets just like, probe megatrons brain, that seems completely ethical, especially when you consider the history of shadowplay and stuff that our previous government had

I know important stuff is happening but megatron is holding a CUBE and I love CUBES so I'm distracted by that. C U B E

and then right after a scene where we see chromedome willing to perform mnemosurgery again - despite rewind’s like, dying wish for him not to - we hear that he’s been locked up in his room rewatching rewinds goodbye message over and over again :( I'm fucking depressed

I love nightbeat, he’s so funny and kind of an asshole

and then you see more missing letters behind them next panel...clearly nightbeat is right and there’s a mystery afoot...OR somebody is fucking with the ship’s lettering as a prank, which is a plot point I would absolutely buy

yeahhhh skids is right, chromedome is clearly Not dealing 

the dramatic graffiti on megatrons door...I wanna know who spray-painted ‘die’ everywhere like they're reaper overwatch

oh god. whirl vs megatron

really cool red lighting tho

GOD its so brutal, all the stuff megatron said about how he told the cons not to kill whirl...and doesn't that end up being false anyways? so he was just saying it to dig at whirl, which is awful

also I'm never over the fact that literally everyone - including megatron and whirl - blames whirl for ‘turning megatron violent,’ as if the entire Point isn't that whirl was a tool for a corrupt system, and if it wasn't whirl it would've just been someone else, and megatron turning away from pacifism was inevitable given the circumstances, AND also a choice on his part, so he really only has himself to blame for his OWN ACTIONS

bye bye whirls right arm, see you in lost light 

‘people never stop changing’ that IS something I say all the time...damn you warlord grandpa! how can you steal my philosophies?!

ohhh man and then rewind’s goodbye message being different....oooh

AUGH the fact that whirl was basically trying to goad megatron into killing him, just like he did in issue 1 w/cyclonus...It Hurts Man

also I do love the hint at who he’s talking to w/whirl shooting megatron with the bow and arrow earlier, and we know that atomizer is a fan of those

ok, but here’s where my philosophy diverges - megatron talks about throwing away his past and starting new, but I think that you have to learn from and build on your past...either way, megatron’s arc is one that I enjoy greatly from a character writing standpoint, and I'm excited to get it underway, especially w/how controversial it is lmao

big ole double-page spread...I like how you can pick out individual characters in the background crowd, which is crazy cause that's a LOT of people. also how come cosmos is so HUGE

phewwww 4.6 billion cybertronians died in the war, that’s INSANE. that's like, an incomprehensibly huge number. is there an estimate for their current population? I bet its not a lot. no wonder jro leaned into reproductive themes so much in mtmte/ll - of course the continuation of your species would be a concern for many if your numbers have been that greatly reduced

optimus w/his fancy tyrest-lookin crown

oughdajbfsbdf and the fact that megatron ALSO murdered 100 BILLION non-cybertronians...bruh. I feel like they maybe should've dialed those numbers back a little to allow his ‘redemption arc’ to run a little smoother lmao. but also I admire the commitment either way

and then we end w/megatron doing captain stuff, and seeing The Coffin...and we never did see rodimus in any of the flash-forward parts of this issue, did we???? I love how concerning that is. where's my BOY

also of course we gotta remember the warning from way back at the beginning of mtmte: ‘don't open the coffin’....

and so begins mtmte s2! man I love s2. I love mtmte in general lmao. s2 takes on the impossible w/the whole ‘megatron redemption arc’ thing, and I know that’s like, a divisive plot point and stuff, but from a writing standpoint I enjoyed it a lot...I think it was pretty much as well done as it could've been given the enormity of the task, and I thought it was a really interesting direction for the story to go in 

also espec if it’s true that hasbro was like ‘hey jro put megatron in your story and give him a redemption arc’ rather than jro like, planning/asking to do it 

anyways. I doubt ill talk much abt the disc horse(tm) here bc this is just for fun and also my own personal opinions and whatever, but I for one am excited to reexperience this stuff 

so yeah s2 off to a strong start with some wild shit already happening! cant wait to read more!

[the-bjd-community-confess]

DoA megapost (22 confessions)

Mod: So https://true-bjd-confessions.tumblr.com/post/189300138511/mod-due-to-excessive-offtopic-arguing-in-the

All you guys’ pending DoA confessions presented in no specific order, before we move into the hold, as announced above.

To be clear: I think this is a feature DoA should have yesterday. It’s completely inappropriate to force people to use deadnames and names which are related to traumatic life experiences, or be banned. 

However, *weary sigh, gesturing at the multiple 70+ reply confessions on this topic* people told me they were finding the rapidly escalating discussion to be upsetting and offputting, and that’s not my goal for this blog. ❤️

1.

I am exceptionally weary of all the DoA hate over the person who got banned over making a new account after not being allowed to change their user name. DoA isn’t the only doll forum out there. If you don’t like their rules, don’t join. I for one find their rules about on- and off-topic dolls to be unfair and arbitrary as hell, but in the end it comes down to their house, their rules. Move on.

~Anonymous

2.

Us: Sure would be nice to maybe be able to change your name on DOA.

Some of y’all: Are you asking for anarchy?? If we allow this, what’s next?? A reasonable review of outdated rules??? The rules are there for a reason!!1! The reason may be antiqued because technology has updated and changed since then, meaning there are better solutions available, but it’s still a reason so we DEFINITELY should NEVER change!! Change is too scary for me. :( You’re bullies who want to be special :((( Stop that :(

~Anonymous

3.

I love seeing people get so offended at anon saying “bigots”. How do you know it was about you ? Guilty conscience? DOA could allow name changes if they really wanted to. There are other hobbies where they forbid certain people from entering forums while still allowing name changes. It’s not hard if you really care.      

~Anonymous      

4.

Honestly the way people fall all over themselves to defend DoA against any sort of criticism (regardless of how you personally feel about the validity of said criticism, reader) makes me glad I never got into the community aspect of this hobby. It's just... stressful.          

~Anonymous  

5.

The transphobia in the comments on this blog in particular are so gross. Being a bigot makes your dolls instantly hideous. And no, I’m not saying everyone who is defending DOAs decision is transphobic. I’m talking about the one who thinks trans people transitioning is wrong and their friends. You’re gross and so are your dolls.

~Anonymous  

6.

scammers can & will get around DOA's no name change policy, it's really not that safe. also, DOA isn't the only website which allows the sale of high-value items.

~Anonymous  

7.

First it's "if you want name changes coded in DoA, offer to do it yourself!", then it's "why tf would DoA accept some rando to help code their site?" make up your goddamn mind, your argument is falling apart. 

Also when did this issue become "DoA vs trans people"? Like, I like DoA yet I also recognize it should be more accessible and updated for the modern userbase. I want it to become as good as it can be because I like the community and would hate to see it die out like so many other forum sites do. Yes, it has flaws- and believe me, the folks who get extremely upset about the idea of admitting that embarrass me- but I liked the format since I was new to the hobby. I just wish it was more inclusive!    

~Anonymous    

8.     

girlisav3rb: "this isn't about exclusion or leaving anyone out". Also girlisav3rb: "I'm just kicking your punk ass off [obvious metaphor for DoA]" yyyyiiiiikkkees      

~Anonymous    

9. 

The DOA username debate is really starting to feel like 4 people's personal beefs against each other. It isn't really about dolls and I wish it wasn't dominating all the confessions here. I don't really care about watching pomoaples, pupkinspce, aigisthewlve and tellmeifthursday make fools of themselves daily.        

~Anonymous      

10.

Say it louder for the people in the back: IF YOU INSIST ON NAME CHANGES FOR DOA, THEN VOLUNTEER YOUR CODING EXPERTISE. Don't know how to code and are just squawking about something you can't directly contribute towards? Then shut up or offer up money so the mods can hire a computer programmer to make the changes you're DEMANDING from a FREE service.        

~Anonymous

11.

God it's so painfully obvious to see how many of the people defending DoA on the grounds that name changes would destroy the integrity of the website have never ever worked on or even been part of a forum or really any website of any kind in their lives. Seriously arguing that "the database" would break if you changed a name like?? No??? Have you ever seen a server backend before? You can automate this shit, you know, keep a log of former names, just... it's not some big huge challenge??? 

~Anonymous 

12.           

I don't have a horse in the trans name change race but calling DoA one of the friendlies communities around is abject bullshit lmao. There's not a more elitist, paranoid, abusive community this side of comic books -- but that kind of goes for this hobby as a whole, let's be honest.           

~Anonymous     

13. 

THE RULES ARE IMPORTANT WE CAN't cHANGE THE RULES IT WILL LEAD TO CHAOS IF WE CHANGE ONE RULE WHERE WILL IT END THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!!!!!! In my town it used to be THE RULES that POC have to go to separate schools and use separate bathrooms, but sure, the rules are the most important thing, not the people. And before anyone says cOmPaRiNg DoLlS tO rAciSm, 1) shitting on trans people IS a form of prejudice you smoothbrains, and 2) my ass is POC and I call it like I see it. Check yourselves.            

~Anonymous   

14.   

I personally think DOA should just.. go away? It’s been around for years, most people use it as reference rather than a community anymore. Everything is on FaceBook and Instagram now, DOA is pretty much just a glorified Dolly Dictionary at this point. Besides, if they aren’t going to change an Incredibly simple, easy thing to change just to accommodate transitioning people, it’s not the best place to be.

~Anonymous  

15.

I mean about the whole rules is rules is rules thing about doa: the thing is, some rules are there for a reason and obviously do need to be respected whether you agree with them or not, like don’t block fire exits, murder is bad, etc. but some rules eventually become outdated and need to be changed to keep up with society, and that doesn’t make the people pointing out that they need to be changed evil or entitled or spoiled. Imagine if we all still had to drive 10 mph everywhere because when someone pointed out that car technology had improved since 1915 and the speed limit should be increased accordingly everyone had just shouted them down with “BUT TEH RUUULLLEESS!!!” You’d be pretty interested in getting some of this “special treatment” yourself so you could get to work on time, huh?

~Anonymous  

16.

Honestly the easiest solution would be let people change their names only once and have it trackable.. as a trans dude its NOT that deep.     

~Anonymous        

17.

I notice that the unrelenting attacks on DoA are now even using the same phraseology along with the name-calling and implications of sinister motives. These are textbook bullying tactics. Next is the boycott, except that most of these people already say they don’t use the forum because they are just too “21st Century” for it.

Luckily this is just a confession board and no matter how many folks you manage to rile up here, it’s not going to affect DoA. Now, this is why I love DoA–you can’t go on their own site and spew this nonsense. They have Rules. They are Strict. They attempt to avoid drama, especially off-topic drama, and they don’t allow meanness, vulgarity or obscenity. If you’re looking for a pleasant, safe space, it’s your best bet.

~Anonymous

18.

Easy to lay bigotry, laziness, stupidity and worse on DoA mods for not just accepting tales of trauma and pasts to erase.  But the internet has always been full of lies by people trying to get their own way or escape consequences. Not just pro scammers. People who cry things like illness, trauma, disaster, family or pet problems over and over to get sympathy for demands or as all-purpose excuses. Recast ownership lies. People who never got a no before, and don't like being turned down no-how.

~Anonymous

19.

I just realized that no one understands the people saying DOA can allow name changes are the people who have actually modded forums before, most forums unless they’re running a totally outdated system use user id numbers that are linked to display names, which can be changed, and you can write a simple string of simple-baby-code to show old display names on a profile, to explain it in simple terms.   

~Anonymous                    

20.

Honestly I think that the anti-name change people are mostly just shilling for DoA because they can't believe that their precious forum with its volunteer mods could be anything but flawless. Or something like that, given how indignantly these people have *always* reacted to confessions criticizing DoA, even before the trans controversy was a thing. There have definitely been some obvious transphobes as well though, whose bile is really more suited to conservative FB pages or something. Go away!          

~Anonymous

21.   

the DOA mods can obviously change people's usernames because it's 2019 and basically every other site in existence can do it. they might have to change the site slightly to accomplish this. maybe there are reasons for them to choose not to do that, but let's stop pretending it's some technological impossibility.

~Anonymous

22.

How about this: Implement a system on DoA that indentifies users by a unique code and allow users to have a changeable display name. Changing the display name could become a paid feature to pay for the technical changes. Think of a system like discord has. It's a win-win situation. Thoughts?            

~Anonymous

[peachymhaechan]

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera.”

Genre: fluff, babey !! nothin like a good ol idol au, am I rite, laid ease??

Warnings: bad words (like everything else I've written ever lol)

Pairing: Taeyong X female idol reader

A/N: junior year is almost over, thank god. I am so tired. writing this was such a good break from studying for my ap exams and cramming for finals. thank u, Taeyong. also, im working on something for the superhuman comeback, stay tuned, yall :)

you had been a model for sm for a few years now

well within your first year you had gained so much popularity that you became the company’s most hired model and had received a nickname from your employers and fans

you were their Golden Girl (hhhhhffk listen,,, we been knew I ain’t creative), and everyone was dying to work with their Golden Girl

most notable for your bubbly personality and striking looks, every employer was fascinated by your ability to pull off any look 

very similar is lee Taeyong, another artist signed to your company

with his stark beauty, it was no understatement to say that you would not have minded working with someone as pretty as him

so, when your manager told you about an upcoming project where you’d be working with Taeyong and a few of the other nct boys you were #sh00k to say the least

“wait..... WHAT?!” was all you could say in response to your manager telling you the good news

“Yeah, I know. I know how long you’ve wanted to work with him. Well, get ready. For this photoshoot they need you to have bubblegum pink hair, and.....” 

for the next few days, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to happen

yeah, you guys were signed to the same company but that doesn't mean you saw him all the time

you had only seen him once, and that was when you had just become a trainee and were walking through the halls to try and find the recording studio on the third floor

you accidentally went into the dance studio and found yourself interrupting a dance practice for nct u

“Sorry, I have to find someone in the recording studio, where-” 

“You’re fine, don't worry about it! If you go out this hallway, make the next left turn and it should be the second door on the right,” Taeyong said, giving you a small smile 

that was the ONLY interaction you had with him, but boy even when covered in sweat was he gorgeous

and you got to WORK WITH THAT 

the day finally came where you got to work with him yayayay

you woke up at 4 am after having only 1 hour of sleep, thriving

you got up and took a quick shower, did your skincare routine, and changed into comfy clothes for the day

on your way to meeting your manager you grabbed a few coffees for the staff as a thank you for the opportunity

you met your manager at the company building and it started to hit that 

//ohmygod this is really about to happen//

your manager tried her best to calm your nerves but damn, you were not having any of that

scrolling through Instagram, you anxiously awaited the company van that would take you to the photoshoot set

when it pulled up after about twenty minutes of waiting, you and your crew piled in and then you heard your manager tell the driver to hold the van for a few more minutes, seeing as Taeyong and his people were running a little behind

that only made your heart beat even faster

hgjaonfnwnw anxious from waiting, you just wanted to get it over with and rip it off like a bandaid

five minutes later, you saw three people walking over to the van

one of which was wearing sweats, sneakers, a hoodie, and a mask

you automatically recognized who that was despite the baggy clothing and half hidden face

oh fuck oh shit

one of the other two men talked to your manager, who had gotten out to speak to taeyong’s manager and the other person there

Taeyong climbed into the van and made eye contact with you in the back row, spotting the empty seat beside you

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding to the spot right next to you

you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and your throat started getting closed up from nerves

so all you could do was shake your head no

he sat down and gave you a small smile, then started yawning and stretching out his arms

you had one extra coffee left from earlier and you figured it’d be a great ice breaker maybe 

“I have an extra coffee from a coffee run I went on earlier, do you want it? It’s not super hot or anything, but its still a little warm, and its caffeine,” you said and his eyes immediately lit up

“Oh, yes please!!” 

you grabbed the last cup from the drink carrier and gave it to him, and he thanked you right away

“How did you have enough time to go on a coffee run this morning?” Taeyong asked in shock

“I got up at four and am running on one hour of sleep,” you explained, not even trying to seem like you have it together

that's what its like being a hot mess, babey !!1

“That’s not good, you need to get more sleep. Were you out late last night with your schedule or something?” 

concerned mom? yes

“I was out until about eleven pm, yeah, but in all honesty... I couldn’t sleep because I was very nervous to meet you.” 

bro you need to get some sleep and get your filter back in place

bc when you get no sleep?? a bitch has NO filter whatsoever

Taeyong was genuinely surprised that you were nervous to meet him

“Really?? You were nervous to meet me?? Why, am I really that scary or something??” 

“Its not that you’re scary, exactly, but... I have wanted to work with you for a very long time, and it still hasn’t fully set in that this is my reality.” 

he nodded after you spoke, and it seemed to both impress and confuse him

no matter how popular him and his group got, he never got used to having people look up to him

and to hear it from someone as successful as you, someone he has constantly seen in the media for so long?? mind boggling

it kind of made him nervous tbh

before he could reply, the managers and everyone piled in and the van started moving to the photoshoot set

as soon as you guys left the company building, your head leaned onto the window and you passed tf out

when you woke up, Taeyong was tapping you on the shoulder and telling you that yall got to the set finally

taeyong’s face greeting you when you woke up? shocking, but not an unwelcome sight

“Alright, we need to get you guys into hair and makeup, then we will send you both over to wardrobe and they'll make any last minute touchups and then you can get to work. Sound good?” your manager told you two, and when you both nodded, she immediately directed you to the makeup studio

your artists were very excited to work with you, which made everything much more pleasant

“The feel we are going for with this shoot will perfectly fit your aesthetic and your features, I’m so excited!!” and “You’re naturally this pretty? And after only one hour of sleep? Oh my god, my under eye bags are permanent and it looks like you don’t have any at all!” or the occasional “I wish I could be as stunning as you without even trying...” 

it sounded like Taeyong was going through the same thing, as you could hear some of the other makeup artists gushing about his sharp features

“Wow, your eyes are so beautiful!” and “Your smile is stunning!” and “I wish I was half as pretty as you are!” 

you could tell it made him a bit uncomfortable because he sat there with a :} face 

(unrelated but: that face looks like the grinch lowkey, ok sorry for interrupting lol, back to the fic)

you two made eye contact in the mirror and you could practically read his mind

I want this to stop, they’re making me uncomfortable, oh my god. 

to which your eyes said, Same here, and I am used to dealing with this on a daily basis.  

luckily, they finished putting shadows and liner on your eyelids, and then they sent you to the hair department

for hair, they teased and curled your hair, giving you a tired and just woken up look

well, a styled just woken up kind of look

Taeyong came in halfway through your hair and all they had to do for him was throw some gel in his and make it a little messy and he was good to go

by the time you made it to wardrobe Taeyong was already on set and getting individual pictures for the concept

they threw you in clothes, and by clothes you mean a men’s oversized white button up, short shorts, and a bright red bra

and before you could even leave to head to the set, they made sure that the first few buttons were undone on the shirt

to say you felt a lil bit exposed and cold was an understatement

the second he saw you, Taeyong had a glint in his eye and he couldn't stop staring at you

naturally, that made you blush and get really self conscious

?? wot

“Hello, I am your photographer for the day. This shoot is supposed to be sort of a couple, romantic fashion shoot, so I hope you two know each other very well and are comfortable with being close to one another. Do you two have any issues with that?”  

you both looked at each other, 

and then lee Taeyong, 

while staring dead in your eyes, 

said

“No, sounds perfect!” 

bitch

what the fuck was that supposed to mean ?! 

“sounds perfect” uhhhhhhhhhhh lemme get a mcfuckin explanation 

he gave you a small smile before you managed to get out, “No issues here.” 

that only made him smile more

njsdncvcaehcfabcafcb bitch!! you were whipped for him already

“Great! Let’s get started, then. Y/N, I will have you stand over here, and...” 

let’s just say that the photographer had you two start with basic stuff, like you two standing next to one another with Taeyong putting his hand on your shoulder and things like that

it quickly escalated though, and he had you doing things like laying your legs across his lap and running your hands through his hair

“Sorry if this is a little too intimate for you,” you whispered into his ear during another shot, where you were draped over his sitting form and your hand caressed his cheek

“Don’t apologize, it’s not. If anything, I’m a little flustered to have someone as pretty as you staring at me the way you are, Y/N, even if it is just for the camera,” he told you, shifting so that you were turned with your back to the camera and chest flush to his, your hands delicately placed on his upper arms, his hand resting on your lower back and you staring up at him

faintly you could hear the photographer say,  “THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE ONE!”

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera,” you mumbled, not able to filter yourself due to sleep deprivation

you thought he didn’t hear you, but then a smirk formed on his face and you knew you #fucked up

the end of the shoot was arriving, and there were a few more pictures the photographer had in mind, but he wanted to let you guys do your own thing and see where it ended up

“You guys can do what you want for these next few pictures, just do what feels naturally and I’ll angle it well.” very encouraging, right

making use of the pieces of furniture on the set, you decided to lay on the bright red couch and Taeyong looked down at you from behind it

“I couldn’t hear what you said earlier, can you say it again please?” he asked, trying to fish a confession out of you

Oh, Mr. Lee Taeyong, it won’t be that easy. 

“Hmmm, what do you mean?” you asked, purposefully trying to be as close to him as you could, so you sat on your hips to the side more and pulled him down so your hand rested on his cheek and your face was //right there, you could feel his breath on your lips//

(the photographer would have fainted there if he could get away with technical time theft while on the job)

taeyong’s breath hitched and a blush crept onto his cheeks and you knew you got him

ladies and gentlemen.... we got ‘im

even still, he tried to get it out of you

“Well, I thought I heard you say something under your breath before the photographer spoke to us,” he coyly explained, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap

at that point it became a game of who could get the other to blush more

and lemme just say, mama didn’t raise no lil bitch, so you were NOT about to lose

grabbing both sides of his face in your small hands, you leaned in and whispered, “I hope it’s okay that I’m going to kiss you now.” 

his eyes went wide, and then he said, “MORE than okay.” 

and the next thing you know, your lips were planted on his and the photographer was sobbing genuine tears

“THIS IS PEAK PROFESSIONALISM, OH MY GOD, IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE WORKED WITH MODELS AS GOOD AS YOU TWO, OH MY, THIS IS THE SHOT THAT WILL MAKE IT BIG, I’M-” 

of course his enthusiasm made you start giggling, and you could feel Taeyong smiling into the kiss

when you two broke apart you leaned your forehead on his and stared into his eyes

“I think we both know what I said earlier,” you told him, throwing your arms around his neck

“Good, because I hope we are both on the same page,” he said, smirking slightly

“And that is?” 

and all he did in response was kiss you again, but this time not smiling from the photographer’ s goofy remarks

the photographer gave the okay after he got that shot and told you two that he wish he’d gotten to work with you sooner

the ironic thing here is that you and Taeyong wished the same thing

you headed back to the dressing rooms, hand in hand, getting stares from the staff but not caring much

or at all, really

#bad bitch club: RISE

“I hope you know that as soon as those pictures get released, people will assume we are dating, right?” you said, wiping the makeup off and combing through your hair

you quickly ducked into changing room, throwing on the clothes you were wearing when you arrived

you heard him chuckle from the other little makeshift room

you exited your changing room and found him waiting for you

“Why let them assume when we could tell them the truth ourselves?” 

and somehow, despite the crazy hectic schedules you both had, 

and all the crazy ups and downs of being in the public spotlight,

a few months later, when the magazine finally hit the shelves and the cover image was you two kissing each other and looking like the happiest couple in the world,

when you got invited to an interview to discuss the inspiration for the images and the experience of working with each other, 

you two walked in hand in hand, smiling brightly and looking like your average couple that was in love

and when asked if you two were dating, 

you replied, “Yes, and it has been the best few months of my life so far.” 

:) uwu

[afriendtokilltime]

Okay, fine. Let’s talk about parasocial relationships.

The term “parasocial” has been making the rounds as a very very smart sounding thing to say. It not only establishes that you know an unusual and complex word, but also that you are too smart to fall for marketing tactics, and that you are much too cool to show enthusiasm for anything!

So, what’s a parasocial relationship? It’s a one-sided relationship with a celebrity or fictional character--the entire relationship takes place in your head. You’re reading this on tumblr, which means you have lots of parasocial relationships. You’re very parasocially popular! Maybe you even have one with me. (Probably not, I stopped posting for a long time, so we probably don’t parasocially know one another at all.)

I first encountered this term being used as an inherently bad thing, something to avoid, as though the term referred to the negative version of itself. What I saw was not people explaining why it can be harmful, but speaking as if we all know it is (the way you’d use “alcoholism”).

I see people carefully watching themselves to make sure they aren’t engaging in a “parasocial relationship,” or referring to a behavior they don’t like as “borderline parasocial relationship behavior.” But, there is no such thing as “relationship behavior” other than closing the psychological distance between yourself and another person. “Parasocial relationship behavior” is doing this, but it’s one-sided. You get closer, and they do not. That’s it. That’s the only thing. Does that mean building a shrine to Kristen Stewart? Does it mean crying with joy at Hbomberguy’s Mermaids/Donkey Kong stream? Does it mean writing a 100k fanfiction about Hermione Granger, Vampire Slayer? Does it mean buying a David Bowie CD? Does it mean begging the show writers to finally make that queerbaity relationship canon? Does it mean killing the president? You decide! 

Becoming psychologically closer to people and characters is not inherently unhealthy, whether they know who you are or not. How you treat them and respond to that closeness, and how they choose to cultivate closeness, can of course be unhealthy...but so can reciprocal relationships.

What’s weird to me is that we generally seem to be aware that there are bad and good (healthy and unhealthy) relationships. I have a good relationship with @randomshoes because we support each other, are interested in each others’ success, spend quality time together, and communicate well. If I was to stalk her or kill a president for her, or if she was to abuse my trust and take all my money while falsely assuring me she loved me, our relationship would be somewhat less healthy. 

So, what’s so bad about parasocial relationships?

They don’t actually care about you and they are taking your money.

If a marketing team/a celebrity uses these relationships to prey on vulnerable people, that might be an abusive relationship...in the other direction. If I manipulate a friend I know out of her money, I’m the bad guy, right? But if I’m famous, and she’s 16, and I knowingly manipulate her out of her money, then she’s the bad guy, because teenage girls are dumb and they should feel bad for ever liking anything, forming identities, feeling attraction, or basically being uncool and childish in any way.

It is definitely a good idea to remember that transactions are a part of how art is usually consumed, and not to express your affection or deep identification with an art/artist by spending lots of money on tee shirts that depict them. However, even this type of interaction can be encouraged in a healthy, positive way.  Patreon seems to really make people mad, but it’s not the worst system for artists who Live in A Society and don’t happen to have any lembas laying around. “I’ll pretend to love you so you can make me a millionaire” seems kinda gross but “I appreciate that your support helps me continue making the art you love” kinda sorta does not.

Some people go too far and commit heinous crimes because they expect their parasocial affections to be reciprocated.

Those crimes would be heinous even in an already reciprocal relationship. (I  already mentioned this, but if I committed terrorism for my very real girlfriend who knows exactly who I am, that would probably make me no better or worse than Hinkley.)

You’re an isolated loser and need real friends.

Okay. Anybody pouring all their energy into one relationship is probably not doing life correctly, regardless of how parasocial that relationship is. But this is a point on which I simply do not agree. People engage in these behaviors regardless of how wide their friend circle is. If not with celebrities, then with fictional characters, or even historical or political figures (think more “little father” than “senator” though what you do with that Bernie Sanders picture in your room is between you and God). Oh speaking of God, relationships with religious figures might arguably have some similarities and speak to the same human tendency, but there is of course the difference that Justin Bieber doesn’t know who TF you are, but God does.

Uh, sorry, you didn’t address my point. Forming parasocial relationships stops you developing real relationships.

I actually think it encourages reciprocal socialization. I didn’t have many friends growing up. When I met two other kids who were obsessed with Harry Potter, we bonded over that, making up our own characters (next generation type of BS...still better than the book 7 epilogue), and this formed the basis of a friendship that lasted basically my entire pubescence. These parasocial relationships are generally part of a broader interest, and interests and hobbies help you meet people, break the ice, and uhm...form real relationships.

It’s not just interests, though. I was hardcore into dinosaurs as a kid. Literally every child likes dinosaurs, but that didn’t help me form any new friendships. The other reason I think parasocial relationships lead to better real relationships is...practice. You are engaging in social behaviors, whether or not you’re any good at them, whether or not you succeed. This is what’s required to learn any new skill, but it’s generally discouraged.

You don’t just learn about how to socialize, you also learn about yourself. You develop a sense of identity and learn what you like and dislike by associating yourself with favorite characters.

Children and teens often imitate their behaviors, and though that can be a bit annoying (why yes I do have the Spanish Inquisition sketch memorized but thanks for repeating it to make sure I got it), it also helps them figure out what kind of people they want to be (maybe you want to be funny, so you over time learn that what made Monty Python so funny was surprise, surprise and fear, and you develop comedic timing). Knowing what kind of person you want to be is important.

Right, but it’s selfish. You keep calling it “one sided” which it literally is. There’s no checks on your behavior.

Right. I think that’s good, though? I think it’s good for people to sometimes do selfish things. I think it’s good to cultivate parasocial relationships because they are a way to self-soothe, and get your own needs met, without burdening others. We are social creatures, and we absolutely need relationships, but nobody owes you a relationship. Nobody owes you affection or love. Having a way to cultivate that for yourself is actually incredibly valuable.

It’s worth commenting here that I think my strongest parasocial relationships are probably with characters I’ve made up myself. They are “a part of me” in that they are always there in my life, but unlike some writers, I do not base characters on myself or see them as reflecting specific parts of me. I relate to them in the same way I relate to Harry Potter, except that I was the one who made them up initially, and books I write about them can be published and I can make money off them. (On some theoretical plane of existence.) It’s pretty clear that I am the one doing all the work on both sides of this particular parasocial relationship, but it doesn’t feel super different to me than the fact I very intensely relate to certain characters not made up by me. I don’t conceive myself dating one of them, like I don’t have a Dorothy L. Sayers thing going on, but I don’t really think it would be wrong if I did.

What do you mean not being a burden on others? What about toxic fans putting pressure on creators?

Yeah...that’ll be in the “unhealthy relationship” category. But, okay, I guess where I am ending up here is I do think it’s good to recognize parasocial relationships exist and talk about them, because it reminds you that even if a relationship is not reciprocal, you do have responsibilities. If the other person is real, that means they are only human, and even if you have no choice but to stan, you should give them some breathing space. The Shinji Ikari ContraPoints in my head can be my super close friend, but if I expect the real Natalie Wynn to give me any more energy than she already does to her entire audience by making the awesome videos I enjoy so much, I’d be really rude, demanding, and honestly not worthy of her friendship if it was “real.”

Parasocial relationships are relationships which means, just like with reciprocal ones, you have to not be a dick. You have to respect the other person and recognize they are a human being separate from you. Even with characters, Harry Potter can’t be hurt by anything weird and demanding you do, but Rowling could, and so could other HP fans, so respect is still important. If it’s not already clear, I strongly disagree with people who suggest fanfiction is disrespectful, so.

If you understand that your relationship is abstracted, and that you do not deserve any kind of reward for all the energy and love that you pour into it...then enjoy your parasocial relationship, because it is absolutely normative, human, and can bring great joy and meaning into your life. In fact, almost all of what I just said applies to reciprocal relationships, too.

[hawkeyebabe]

Guys, I couldn’t stop myself, I wrote a fic that I got way too into for this incredibly angsty art by @thesilentwatcher​ sorry. (please go look at it, it’s perfect and my jaw’s on the floor) (no you’re not going crazy, I’m reposting this as a separate entity just so I can organize the way my works are published)

Title: The Hypothesis and Execution of Sentiment Rating: T (blood, violence, heavy themes, questionable ending) Note: I really did flesh this tf out, it just kind of happened. Just a sprinkle of Royai in there because I have zero self control. It might hurt to read this, who knows, enjoy. Summary: During an attack on Central Command, Riza becomes gravely injured with only Edward as witness.

—–

What they heard first, echoing like distant, crashing waves, over the curve of the buildings and through the limbs of the naked Autumn trees, were the screams. Piercing, unmistakable screams, shouts of mania and cries of panic. They shredded the air like nails, biting into the cheeks of the setting sun, and Riza and Edward exchanged severely alarmed looks.

“You’re a major, Edward,” Riza had said with a joking smile, lightly pushing on his shoulder. “I don’t know why you don’t just stay in the officer’s accommodations on Central Campus. It would be far cheaper than a hotel.”

Edward had laughed and pushed her hand away from him.

“Because no way am I going to be any closer to this hellhole then I have to be. You guys are a cancer.”

“WE are a cancer,” she corrected him. “You’re one of us. You’ve been assimilated.”

She’d widened her eyes, allowed her expression to go blank, and lifted her arm like a machine. Edward laughed again and smacked it down.

“Cut that out Lieutenant!”

“Edward…” She turned towards him, eyes wide, expression blank, no whisper of a joke on her features. The hand returned, strong and demanding, to his shoulder. He did not push it away this time.

“Stay here,” she said sharply.

Something exploded in a place they couldn’t see, and the screams intensified. She held his gaze for a long moment, asking him to heed her, asking herself to protect him, then turned on her heel and bolted towards the sounds of chaos.

Where they had been, the southernmost side of headquarters that was sandwiched between the stone buildings and a small wooded area, things had seemed peaceful. Should no noise be heard, with the grass browning naturally and the picnic tables sitting beneath the trees invitingly, it seemed as pleasant a day as ever. But noise was heard; the noise of people dying, and the noise of people killing.

The images of these peaceful things blurred past her, streaking in dull colors as she pushed forward in pounding boots, pulling herself towards the rising crescendos of hysteria and ill intent, towards the booming, intermittent blasts of explosions and now gunfire, and something whispered to her wickedly that this was anything but peaceful.

The sounds of pandemonium sparked upwards like a firecracker, shrieking over Central, its origin emanating from the north; the entrance. The most populated, most vulnerable area. She ran. The rushing air flowed like river water over her bared arms, her jacket having been left in the office for what she assumed would be a short stroll to catch up with Ed.

She turned the corner to charge up the western side, and saw people running. There was another explosion and chunks of stone debris blasted through the air, whistling and pounding into the dirt. The fear that clawed at her body, ripping into her throat to try and smother her, was pushed down with the heavy blanket of reason and action. She turned the next corner…

“Hey!” she screamed furiously, her gun rising in the air as her legs continued to slam against the ground. The man, whose own weapon was pointed at the head of a civilian on their knees, looked up at her before his right eye erupted in blood and he fell on his back. Riza yelled at the civilian man to escape swiftly as she turned her attention to the rest of the grounds.

Clusters of people were running like a panicked herd, scrambling and tripping and pushing, running where, she wasn’t certain. Away, she thought. Just away. A few bodies in uniform lay dead on the ground, lives given in duty, and Riza felt nausea.

Men dressed in black, armed with rifles or handguns, were scattered around like paint drops. Each one bore a red armband, on it a symbol she did not recognize. It was stitched in hatred, and she hated it directly back. She did not know who they were. She did not care. They threatened the lives of her people.

She shot four more insurgents as she waded her way towards the center of the madness, her body a lone sail in an ocean of mayhem.

A wave of fleeing people pulled back a curtain to the scene in front of Riza, of three men planting an explosive in the barrel of a metal trashbin and pushing it up against the base of the stairs. At the crest of the stairs, the door to Central was firmly closed, likely locked; there were at least 15 people running down those steps, reaching to one another and searching madly for a place to escape, hugging and running and sobbing. One of the men pulled out a match…

The weapon in her hand vibrated savagely at each pull of the trigger, shaking the bones in her forearm and briefly numbing her fingers. The man’s match fell with him, dead. His two comrades flailed for a moment, shoving their arms over their heads in an attempt at cover as they searched her out. The blood in her fingers danced at another pull. One of the men’s hands flailed again, but this time at the impact of her bullet, and he too joined the dirt.

Her index muscles pulled into the weapon, asking it again to fire. It answered no, and it clicked, clicked, clicked, at its empty magazine. She felt her eyes widen, cursing her inattentiveness to count, before flipping her hand back to the leather pouch on her belt, popping open the flap to reach for her next clip —

The proceeding gunshot was so abrupt, so thunderous, she jumped backwards as though struck and whipped her head to the side. A man stood ten feet from her, thin wisps of smoke protruding from the barrel of his weapon, and on his face was insanity.

She felt the shallow cut on her shoulder begin to bleed, but she did not allow herself the time to marvel in her fortune.

Better luck next time, asshole.

Without taking his eyes off her, he shouted at his friends to continue their mission. To pick up the match. With a slap of fear, Riza pushed the magazine into her handgun as she turned back towards the men with the explosive, glancing up to see the civilians and unarmed military personnel on the steps scream at the match being handled, but the shadow in her eye forced her to drop as a piercing shot rang out. She barely managed to tumble to the ground as his bullet whizzed over her head. Rolling on her stomach, she pushed herself back to her feet and immediately fell back down as he shot at her for the third time. The grass pricked into her palms.

Dammit…! Anxiety tornadoed up through her lungs and chest as he shot again and she continued to dodge his untrained shots, her precious few moments between each pop of his rifle dedicated only to the defensive; dropping and rolling and jumping away from the eye of his barrel —

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw something bright, yellow, hot and red, and it twirled through the air like a beacon. For a wonderful, blissful moment, she thought she’d hear his voice, see him and relish in his aide, hear that unmistakable snap and know things would be alright, but her ears were instead met by the voice of a detonation, a bellow and clamor of antagony and flame. Daggers of metal trashbin screamed through the air and skewered the ground.

Someone had succeeded in what she had failed to prevent, and she was completely gripped with a drowning fear for the price of her failure. She spun herself around to look with wide, dreading eyes. Somewhere distantly behind her, she heard the click, click, click of an empty trigger…

She saw rising flames, licking at the smoke hazying overhead, she saw burning grass and crumbling stone stairs…

She saw the ground moving like the ocean, like water, as it scooped up the falling people and shielded them from the flames and debris. She saw a red coat and a yellow braid. A relieved and desperate choke fell out of her lungs at the sight of their safety.

Something cracked into the side of her head, sending her body reeling to the ground and her mind through a fog. The gun fell from her hand, flung in a direction she couldn’t discern. She gasped and grabbed her throbbing skull, feeling warmth trickle through her free-flowing hair. The clip laid in pieces beside her.

Her mouth opened in shock as she saw the man’s boot coming for her face, and she shielded herself with her palms just in time for the toe of his shoe to smack into her hold. Grunting, she grabbed the boot with one hand while the other wrapped around the back of his calf. Sucking in a breath, letting her adrenaline pulse through her without tame or control, she pulled him off his feet, his back smacking on the same ground she was becoming far too familiar with.

The man let out a war cry, a declaration of his commitment to his unjust, cruel, murderous cause, and flung himself towards her. His hands hit her shoulders like a pair of anvils despite her wrapping her arms around his, pushing against him, hitting, yanking. They were heavy, they were strong, they were impending, and they snaked towards her throat despite her every effort to fend them off, and suddenly she could not breath.

She tried to gasp but felt only the bitter and painful disappointment of nothingness.

The dirt beneath her fingers rumbled like an engine, humming, drumming, and the man soared off her body. A log-shaped protruder made of dirt stood in his wake, and behind it, the view clear thanks to the disappearance of the man, was Edward.

“Edward!” she coughed, forcing herself onto an elbow. His hands sparked as he rose from the ground. “You shouldn’t be here!” It was a reprimand, but Riza knew his presence saved more than just herself.

“I thought you could use some help.”

Riza looked away from him, glancing at the thinning crowds and the smoking remains of the bottom half of the stairs leading up to the Central building. The small group that had once been there was running, far enough away to be safe, their backs to Riza.

Beyond the broken steps, up there at the top, stood eight men, shoulders bolting into the wooden doors, guns blasting into the heavy internal lock, shouting and pounding on the door with the butts of their weapons. Someone flung a large bag off their shoulder and unzipped it.

“They must have locked down the building…” she surmised, rubbing her throat, breathing heavy from her fight.

“I imagine they must have some important stuff to protect in there.”

“And important people…” She watched them yell as they ran themselves into the door again. Inside were men and women of the highest statute; generals, politicians, journalists. The quickest way to a statement was smearing the blood of those people on the steps of the most important building in Amestris. A hand reached into the mysterious bag and pulled out something square.

“If those men get their hands on either asset…”

They were nobodies, affiliated with a cause she did not know, but their driving, mad passion to make themselves known left her hollow.

“I’m on it,” stated Edward frankly, running forward without another word, red cloth flowing freely behind him.

“Edward!” she called out immediately. He didn’t hear her over the sound of the detonation of another bomb. The thick oak door splintered horrendously, but did not breach. One of the men who stood too close was thrusted backwards over the steps.

These people were insane; they were grown, brawny, dangerous men. They were enraged; they were driven with detestation. Their brows were turned down and their voices scratched with yells of malice. They were foul. They were killers.

A boy ran towards them, a boy named Edward who was none of those things, and Riza felt her boots collide with the increasingly ashy ground as she followed, her body rigid with fear and her hands tingling with a terrible kind of foreboding.

The men began to shout at each other when they noticed the boy’s approach. They reached into their coats, into their belts. Bodies of metal glinted in the orange sun.

Riza yelled with all her energy, screaming at Edward to retreat back to her, but he did not hear. She screamed for him to stop, but the third bomb that sun setting day shook the very wavelengths of the air so she could not hear even her own voice. The door broke wide open and pieces of wood sailed skyward, rising and falling like rain.

The boy clapped his hands together and slapped the ground, the browning grass weaving together, swimming over and upwards, ascending towards the men and puddling over the entryway they had just created. It blocked them completely, someone yelled shoot him down, and Riza’s heart lurched so aggressively she thought it would stop beating. Voices muddled behind her but she could not perceive who they belonged to. Her legs burned with every step, her muscles numb, as she neared Edward. The redness of his coat tricked her into seeing him covered in blood and it made her very own run cold.

The metal bodies raised. There could have been one hundred of them, or there could have been one. They could have been just an intruder, or the Fuhrer himself. They could have been an entire army. They could have been God or the Devil or anything in between. Nothing would have stopped her.

Edward clapped again. He slapped again. The earth covering the door thickened, ending any kind of chance the terrorists had at entering, and the steps flattened like bread so the men’s ascending comrades sunk into rising air and billowing dust. Her eyes burned, and through the tightness of her throat, she felt a great swell of pride for the young alchemist.

His eyes were down, then up, watching them, ensuring their demise, concentrating wholly on what he’d set to do, on the goal he’d given himself, on the lives he intended to save, and through the dust and smoke he didn’t see the metal bodies at the top of the steps raise at him nor did he see hers clamber around until she blocked his sight entirely.

She barely made it. In fact she feared she may not have, having heard the shots before she came to a complete stop, fooling her into thinking she was a just a breath too late, but the truth was not so. The guns rang out, dotting the smoking afternoon with the sound of desire, a want for a boy dead, and the air in Riza’s body left her gently, ghosting out of her open mouth, and she jerked just barely at the impacts. The reassurance she felt, the incomparable solace at knowing she’d succeeded in sparing him, was spectacular.

She blinked slowly up at the men at the top of the stairs. They raised their weapons once more and yelled at each other, aiming down the sights and forcing back their hammers. That’s fine, she told them silently. I’m not moving anytime soon.

But after a few moments, they began to drop like insects. One after the other, they fell, little red flowers blossoming on their heads or their shirts or their necks. She didn’t hear the bullets sliding into their bodies, but she saw them. She saw them sink.

Who…she wondered, accepting that their threat was gone, as she too fell backwards.

Her head fell over the arm of a young man, and she took him with her to the ground. Her body shook aggressively, but after a moment she realized the jitters were not coming from her.

Edward was on his knees holding her, an arm wrapped back behind her shoulders and a thigh beneath her for support, and in his face was absolute horror. His body wracked irregularly as he took in unbelieving, shocked, panicking breaths.

“No…” He protested, his voice shaking. “No…”

She hadn’t the time to realize that despite the season, she had been sweating from her involvement in the attack. The crisp Autumn air cooled the clamminess of her forehead, and the slickness of the several wounds on her stomach. It was only for a brief moment that the injury pained her so terribly that she couldn’t think, but the sensation flitted away so she was left only throbbing. She raised a steady hand to push against the wounds and blood spilled between her fingers.

A gloved hand pressed over her soiled one.

She was surprised at how easily and naturally a small smile crossed over her features as she looked up at him, looked up at his wide, petrified, scared eyes. It was a smile she called for to mask the unmistakable pulsing pain, and to mask the severity of the situation they’d stumbled into it.

The gravity of the moment, the significance of her wounds and how they felt against her beating heart, came to Riza like speech. It was simple, concise, and transparently obvious, and in a language only she could hear, she knew two irrefutable things; she was going to die, and Edward Elric was the one who was going to witness it.

Oh, Edward…she thought with an utter sadness. I’m so sorry it has to be you.

The corners of her mouth rose further and she lifted her free hand up to his face, the back of her fingers brushing across his cheek.

“Edward…” she said as she studied his peril. “It’s alright.”

Tears welled in his eyes and he failed to fight back a sob. She heard the shouts, the orders, of military men. They were distant and foggy, like they were behind a thick wall of glass. He’s safe…

“No, Lieutenant, no, I didn’t…I didn’t mean…”

“Ed you did nothing wrong, sweetheart…” She’d never called him that before, but as she bled and as he held her, it came off her tongue naturally. He was young. He was good. He did not deserve to be there with her.

“You stopped those men,” she continued softly, “from breaching the building…”

Those impending wounds in her body, pulsing and stabbing, began to grow numb. The back of her throat and the depths of her gut iced like a frost.

“You…saved…so many…”

“Don’t,” he choked. “Don’t do that, please, Lieutenant Hawkeye, please…” He could not stop the sob that wracked his body or the tears spilling down his face. “You can’t go, I can’t let you, dammit!”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Her fingers wiped at the tears. “It’s fine, Edward. Really.”

Her insides trembling, Riza was selfishly grateful for her need to comfort the boy. Without it, without him, she’d be left to swim in the terror she surmised was lurking beneath her strength.

“Listen…” Paresthesia prickled her failing nerves. An invisible sadness pushed against her heart as she pictured his face. “I need you to look after the Colonel for me, okay?” It was a question asked through a calm smile. She coughed weakly, and knew by the bitter taste of iron in her mouth that something red was running slowly down her face.

“He needs…someone to keep him in check.”

Crying, Edward could not stop shaking his head, like the repeat of the motion would chase away the scene. Would chase away the dark figure waiting patiently for Riza to finish consoling him. Would wake him from the nightmare he’d found himself in, from the nightmare she was responsible for. The fingers around her shoulders tightened.

“C’mon, Lieutenant,” he forced. “The soldiers are here, they’re…they’re here, arresting those guys…” He tore his eyes away from her as though realizing his words, looked around wildly, and he screamed,

“Help! Someone please help me! HELP!!!”

But no one heeded his plea. The mania of the event had not yet dissipated, and there were more civilians and criminals than soldiers. No one spared him a glance, or likely even heard him.

“Someone’s…” His chest convulsed as he took in a breath. “Someone’s gonna come…and,” he inhaled terribly. “And get you help, alright? Please…”

She looked up between his eyes, his bright, golden eyes, and she saw him. Saw his past, and his future. She saw a broken boy and a strong man. She saw how he looked at his brother, and how he studied his books; she saw a history in them that was so saturated yet still so incomplete, and she saw something, someone, truly magnificent. In his eyes, she saw herself loving him.

“Don’t let Mustang push you around too much, Edward…keep fighting for you and your brother…I know you will…get your original bodies back…”

The muscles she’d grown with, used since birth, toning and fighting and living with, whispered to her when once they sang. They deteriorated completely until they disconnected, abandoning her, no longer a continuation of mind, as she continued to die. Darkness crept into the corners of her eyes, bleeding towards Edward’s face, and things began to fade.

“It’s alright, Ed…trust me…it’s…alright…”

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, please…!”

“Come on, Edward…” Her eyelids drooped as if she were falling asleep. “Don’t be upset…it’s okay…”

He shook her, a wild attempt to jostle her bleeding body, to wake her, to stop the descent of her eyes, but it did nothing to sway a stilling casualty.

“Lieutenant!”

“Ed…” It was a breathy release of his name. Her index finger moved just barely, a final smooth stroke of his cheek. “It’s okay…”

Her eyes slipped fully closed, the fingers against Edward’s face stopped moving, and the hand fell limp against his shoulder as her head lolled with the absence of life. She became completely, utterly, unquestionably still.

Edward cried openly, then. Cried out her name, cried out a curse. Sobbing, shouting, eyes clenched shut and wet tears falling, desperation clung to him like a wrap. No amount of despair brought her back to comfort him yet he could not halt its onslaught. No amount of regret could halt his crave for her to touch him again, to tell him it was alright even though it was not. Her body was heavy against his, her blood slick beneath his palm, her face pale and her whole self stiller than sleep.

Edward! It’s great to see you! How have you been?

Edward. You really ought to be more gentle with Al. What harm could a little kitten do?

Edward, don’t let the Colonel, or anyone, for that matter, bother you too much. Everyone’s grumpy around here anyway. And they’re old. Go to the library and do your research.

He hugged her close to him, smelling the gunpowder on her clothes and feeling the warmth of her flesh drift away.

Lieutenant, how can you stand to be here all day every day? Aren’t you going mad?

I would have when I was your age. But this is my purpose now. And believe it or not, I do not hate it. But you, of course, would.

Her lips were parted silently, open as her head hung backwards. Pieces of blonde hair stuck to her face, the rest of it splaying both over and under Ed’s arm, rough against his coat.

Hey, Ed. I heard you and Al were coming by today so I brought some of that tea with me. You really should try it, it’s very good. And here are a few of my books for Al; I finished them a long time ago.

The scene fell on deaf ears and and blind eyes. Uniformed men dug out of the mud entrance of Central to detain the living; identical boots marched over the grass to tackle stragglers and lead hiding civilians; ash still falling, still drifting, from the explosions prior, peddling over her black shirt and down her hair.

Some men were born to light things on fire, and some men were born to put those fires out. He’d never noticed the flash of something in her eyes when she’d said that. You don’t need to be both, Edward. You can just be the one who fights for what is good, and what is right. You don’t need to try being the arsonist to be the one who fights them. Trust me…it isn’t worth it.

You’re a good person, Edward. Don’t lose that, okay? It’s a rare thing. And it is you.

“…Fullmetal…”

Ed’s eyes snapped open to look at the knees of a man in blue, and they traveled up to lock with the gaze of Roy Mustang.

But the contact was brief as Roy’s eyes landed on the body in Edward’s hands. He watched him as Mustang fell to his knees.

“Please save her,” Edward spurted, tears dribbling down his cheeks. He didn’t know what else to say, or how to say it. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know anything.

“Please save her…”

The older man wordlessly slipped his gloved hands beneath the woman’s shoulders and knees, and he pulled her into his lap. The limp hand that was against Edward’s shoulder fell to the ground with a soft thud. Blood stained Ed’s pants like a commandment.

“…I can’t…” Mustang finally said quietly.

Edward’s eyes widened, the skin beneath them gray and hopeless, as he studied the officer. You can’t? he thought. You can’t?

“Then…how…?”

Edward, of course, knew the answer. He’d known it the moment his only hope in the form of Roy Mustang had said no.

The raven haired man tensed as he watched the woman in his arms and he just shook his head. He did not tear his eyes from her, and he shook his head, shook his head, like she’d done something disappointing, shook his head…

Remember something, Edward. What the Colonel and I do, or what the military does, or the Fuhrer or the receptionist or the chefs or the accountants or the damned garbageman, do not be concerned with our agenda. Because we’ve had…well, we’re rarely right. Adults don’t know what they’re doing. I certainly don’t. Don’t pay attention to us. Just focus on you and your brother.

Don’t tell him I told you, but the Colonel’s car broke down two days ago. He’s always more short when his machine is broken; he loves that thing too much. Don’t take it personally.

Are you in town for awhile, Ed? Good. I want to have lunch with you boys.

Alright, Edward. Have a good night.

The Flame Alchemist’s features quivered until he finally closed his eyes, slowly, like he’d been made of molasses. Edward sat there lamely, the backs of his hands against the ground, as he watched with his mouth open and his tears falling.

Mustang turned to stone, as still and unmoving as the person he held.

Numbly, without thought, Edward rose to his feet. He blinked and let his eyes drift, felt shock twine around his spine and inside his skull. A faceless soldier had his knee on a person’s back, cuffing him. A man and a woman embraced each other and cried. A mother held her child and spoke tearfully with an officer. There was a person sprinting up the street in black slacks and a grey sweater, a white labcoat draped on his shoulders and a black briefcase swinging with his gait.

Something without reason, something that didn’t just see Riza Hawkeye close her eyes, told Edward to take a step towards him.

I know you’re dedicating your life to finding the answers, Ed, but don’t forget to try and have fun once in awhile.

Ha. What’s ‘fun’ mean, Lieutenant?

Who knows. I’ve never tried it myself. But I think you should.

He took another step. The man looked like a civilian doctor, coming to count the cost and aide out of good nature and service. Ed stepped again, again, and each step he took increased in speed until he was galloping, his arms and limbs turning to jelly, the tears drying and the salt sticking to his skin.

Edward, hey! It’s great to see you.

Edward, please eat that sandwich. I brought it for a reason.

Edward! I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.

Edward, I know you’re stubborn and don’t want to tell anyone if you’re having a hard time. But if you or Al need a place to stay, my door is open. I have a dog and hot meals. What more could you need?

Edward…

…I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?

Yes, he thought bitterly. Yes, you will.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I don’t speak in class and yet here I am saying this anyway (sorry for the really overt reference...bye)

I didn’t mean to do this, but, since I’ve been sick and laying in bed a lot because I haven’t really had the energy to do anything, I started reading interviews with and articles about Pearl Jam. A couple of them I remembered I’d already read, but I kept reading, anyway, because I forgot some of the things they mentioned and how they said them. So, somehow, after I finished reading all the interviews/articles I felt like reading, I decided to watch the “Jeremy” video again. And, afterward, I started having some serious, analytical thoughts about it, so I opened up OneNote on my phone and started taking notes. Only, these notes weren’t just notes. And then they weren’t just about “Jeremy.” So that’s why I’m writing this now, even though in my head I already wrote this post and I wrote it completely differently than the way I’m writing it now. Bummer. Thoughts are only good once, I guess.

So, the reason I’m writing this, after the context above, is because, after writing down some of my critique ideas about “Jeremy,” I ended up going off on a tangent and critiquing Pearl Jam, instead. And the thing is, awhile back I talked about wanting to write a gender critique of Pearl Jam, right? I did. I said so a couple times at least. But I haven’t really touched the article since I first had the idea for it, and maybe one other time, very briefly. I definitely did not intend to come back to that article now, and I have no idea where these thoughts came from precisely. But I wrote them down, nonetheless, and now…well, now I have anxiety. So I needed to write, of course.

I just find it interesting how I planned to write the critique of Pearl Jam, and, in my head, it was going to be mostly positive. It really was. And maybe that’s because the topic is fairly narrowed down – gender – but I really had it in my head that it would be a positive critique. Well…I guess I didn’t account for getting sick and having all this seemingly-extra time on my hands and these thoughts that are most likely not influenced by my illness but I suppose it’s possible they are. But hey, I’ve thought them so far, so there’s some validity in that, at least.

Anyway, long story short, this critique I suddenly started writing ideas down for that ended up not being related to “Jeremy” at all became a critique of the band. Gender was definitely a topic I centered most of my ideas around, as well as philanthropy and social issues (now that was directly related to my piece about “Jeremy”), and so, to explain further, I think I came to this topic when I started writing about subverting expectations. And basically I concluded in a fairly short space with only a few ideas to support this idea, that Pearl Jam do not and have not inherently subverted any expectations. So…it became a negative critique. In other words.

And honestly, hence the anxiety, I guess I’m struggling with that right now. Since I became such a big fan a few months ago, I recognize now that I was participating in the very thing I’ve been so annoyed about: ultimate, blind fandom. Of course, a lot of the fandom I’ve been annoyed about involves sexualizing the musicians which I have not been doing, but blind fandom – I mean, they’re in a similar space, I think. So now that I feel like I’ve regained my sight, I also feel disappointed in my own actions, let alone theirs. (And, anyway, their actions have nothing to do with me. I’ve simply critiqued theirs to the point where I feel less good about all the respect I previously amassed upon them.)

Now, before anyone gets up in arms over this, I’m not sharing any of my critique here tonight or probably for a long time in the future. I just needed to write about this to document my struggle with it. And it is a struggle, which maybe you don’t believe. But I typically don’t start liking something or someone, become obsessed with it, critique it, realize the error of my affections, and then immediately get over it. That’s definitely not what happens, and that’s not what is going to happen here. To start with, I didn’t become obsessed with Pearl Jam when I started listening to them. In fact, I listened to their first three albums for an entire year before I started watching live performances and became interested in them as a group/as people. So, basically, I think it’s fair to say I was wary. I was wary for the same, low-key reasons I mentioned just a few months ago, for example, when I tried identifying their personality types – I judged them based on my own bias. But the thing about that is, and not to alienate anybody (or myself?) but my first impressions tend to be pretty dead-on. Whatever I feel based on the way someone comes off a lot of the time ends up ringing true in the end. Which is to say, I feel whatever I do about someone, I warm up to them and think I was stupid not to have given them a chance earlier, and then we come full circle and whatever it was I didn’t like about them from the beginning ends up ending my connection to them. And I’m not saying that to be like, ‘Haha, look at me, I can identify people and their true nature really well from the very start and it sucks for all of you people who can’t…’ because, like…well, no, because if that were true, I wouldn’t end up giving them a chance. But sometimes I do, and look where it’s gotten me! So I don’t actually always learn my lesson with that.

So here’s me not learning my lesson…again.

However, I do think it’s important to say that, no matter how my critique ends up turning out (be it positive or more on the negative side of things), I still respect the music. While I may not learn my lesson about trusting my gut instinct about someone or something from the very start and ending up down a rabbit hole of ‘everything depends on my respect for this person/group’ in particular, probably, I still have this blessed ability to respect the art and be able to put all of my admiration and energy into respecting that. As an artist, myself, I absolutely believe that art is sacred. Not everything art has to say is sacred, but the act of creating and sharing that art is THE MOST sacred thing. Not to get all preachy, but I really do feel that’s true.

Even though, sometimes, I will admit I have moments where I’m listening to their music and I think ‘Hm, um…you know what? This…this actually…really isn’t that good…’ And I never know if I think that because of my mood – because I’m feeling particularly antagonistic/critical (about the music or, perhaps, more specifically about/because of the band) – or because there is some little justifiable reason for the thought, but other times I obviously rock tf out and I feel the music very deeply and appreciate its existence. Still, whatever I feel about it, I still respect it. But the fact of the matter is that my respect for the music and my respect for the people who make it is not intertwined. I know it is for a lot of people, and hey, maybe it is for me right now (hence the struggle), but that’s not how it is for me all the time, and I absolutely appreciate that. When the artists let me down, the great thing is that the art is always there for me. I can always depend on the art. And I always want that, because, a lot of the time, that’s how I fucking stay alive. That’s how I decide to keep living. So yeah, I fucking respect the art. But I don’t inherently owe my respect to the people who make it. That’s just a lucky bonus that sometimes happens.

The thing is, back to my “please don’t kill me, fellow Pearl Jam fans,” I don’t not respect them. I respect their philanthropy efforts a WHOLE HELL of a lot. For one thing, when I became a fan, I did NOT expect to respect that so much, but that’s really something that they’ve been about since their inception, so there’s no reason in relation to that for me to say, ‘Nah, fuck these guys, they’re not doing enough’ or ‘They’re not doing anything that’s actually making a difference.’ Not that I think anyone – fan or not – would actually say or think that, but I’M JUST SAYING…I'm not saying that. At least not exactly. I recognize that, as a band who already does a great service by sharing their music with the world, they’re not, by any means, obligated to support other/outside and often political issues. Like, especially me, I believe wholeheartedly that art is political. And it may be a lot more obvious with a band like Pearl Jam, but still, I think that should say even more that they’re not required to be political otherwise. And yet, they are! And they’ve done AMAZING, INCREDIBLE things for people and their community (which I happen to sort of be part of) and issues that are really important to them. So I’m not discounting or discrediting that at all, for a second. All I’ll say about my critique is that, from just some of the ideas I ended up writing down, I realized that I’m disappointed there is not more to admire. And yeah, I did just say in this same paragraph and then disprove that “they’re not doing enough,” but well…in some ways – just some ways! – that is true. In issues unrelated to the things I’ve already mentioned/that most PJ fans already know about, and things I’m specifically educated in/about, I’m thinking there is veracity in that. And that’s all I will say until I post my actual critique, which I do plan on doing, but possibly not until the far future because I want to be as thoughtful and resourceful in my critique as I possibly can be. This…this is really just me writing about my reaction to the realization. But this isn’t at all the realization, itself. At least not fully formed and eloquently stated with sources and evidence to support my idea. :) I definitely admit that.