#i know it's my own fault that i haven't been active and have been mostly on discord but. hhhhhh

[msfbgraves]

Fanfic authors have been getting increasingly horribly exploited in the past five years especially. Our work stolen to feed AI that is then being used to put other writers out of work. Wattpad antics. The reselling of plagiarised works published for free. And then this trend of not including an author in the gushing about the works. That is like holding a birthday party for a person to share how much you love them, only not inviting them. Because your love for that person is personal to you and your other friends and none of the celebrated person's business. You're shy! You don't know what to say!

I have been incredibly lucky on having had a lot of engagement on Tumblr in the Silverusso fandom, but I have been in other fandoms whose works are still on Ao3 and also still being clicked on, for what purpose I don't know. But with the current climate, I don't feel like adding much more to other fandoms there especially. There's a few Cherik fics I have toyed with updating, but haven't been inspired enough for, knowing that it's like a lottery nowadays. Sure, the effort could pay off, but what is more likely to happen, at least when posting on Ao3 alone, is mocking silence. Deep in my heart I know that some people will be made happier if I did do it, but knowing that others will use it only to enrich themselves is not a joyful thought at all.

Love will get your fanfic authors a long way in sharing their stories, but if they get nothing at all in return, while knowing that people may even be stealing it for their own ends; that is not an environment conducive to writing. It's an abusive relationship, and we all know that not doing anything beats being in an abusive relationship.

I mean, theoretically my works and other works are being enjoyed because there is an outcry when Ao3 is down. But there is a reason people applaud after live performances. If they didn't, people would stop doing it! Even when the reasons to start doing it are mostly altruistic on the artist's part. Everybody tells you in life to stop putting your efforts where they're not actively appreciated. I mean, did Cinderella's stepfamily enjoy the efforts of her labour? Did it enrich them? Likely yes! Would you have encouraged her to keep providing it, even if she may have started out of love for her family's home? Girl no! Even this kind hearted girl left, because that is what you do when your efforts are unappreciated and exploited, even when they're clearly of value.

If I simply posted and got zero response - no engagement even, I could say the fault was mine. Either for being in the wrong place or doing the wrong thing. But when there is engagement, but no appreciation and people are hawking it somewhere, which I now know they are through the mere existence of AI, adding more is an actively stupid thing to do.

I'm not blaming readers exactly, I'm just pointing out that when you're getting no appreciation and are being exploited, continuing to do something isn't wise and stopping an activity (in this case, writing fic) is a rational decision to make! There's more rewarding things anyone could be doing, even if the activity itself is of much value!

Maybe I will post more in some old fandoms or even new ones, but right now, the only thing that could really compel me to post anything when I am not 100% certain there already is an active audience is an obsession so strong it overrides logic. And that will get you some fic, but not multiple longfics, I assure you.

And no updates. Things that aren't nourished die.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[hotelbitches]

feeling like i'm getting left behind here sighs

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Pick a Card: Message from Lord Apollo

Take what resonates and leave the rest behind, baby. But always be open to new experiences. Decks used are Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck, True Black Tarot, believe in your own magic oracle and pure magic oracle.

🌤Tip your Reader🌻

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Libra, Leo, Aquarius

Song: Apollo by Faith Zapata

Vibes: Yellow, red, white, indigo, owl, pidgin, scrunchies, tot bags, forge, swords, renaissance, skulls, poison, dancing, bus rides, public transport, arm tattoos, 333, 8787

Cards: Justice, 3 of Swords, Queen of Swords, 8 of Cups, The Sun, 7 of Wands, Hidden Familiars, Confidence, Belladonna Visions

Welcome to your message from Lord Apollo, pile one! I can see you had to walk away from something that meant a lot to you to gain a dream come true. You do not feel confident about your decision at all. Mostly because you haven't been able to feel the rewards from this huge change yet. You might have moved away from home or left a job that you have been at a long while. You knew you had to do it. The energy from where you were was changing into something that didn't resonate with you anymore. There was a chip on your shoulder where you used to be. You were not being treated with respect. Where you are going is meant to remove that chip and show you how you genuinely deserve to be treated.

Lord Apollo wants me to let you know that the heart break will be worth it. He knows that you are scared about the future and what is to come. He wants me to tell you that you have been guided to this new experience. Good things are coming and you don't need to be scared. The rewards will come with time and practice. Stand firm in your decision and know things will work out for you. You will receive anything and everything you need to help you succeed where you are going. He knows this isn't something you would normally do. You are a very logical person and you always have a plan. This feels like it is something you jumped into without much planning and it feels really anxiety inducing. Trust yourself. Trust that your guides will have your back. Not everyone is going to agree with your decision and you need to know you don't need their approval to make this decision. Things will work out without the approval of others. It is okay to be unsure. It is okay to be scared. Clarity will come to you on why things needed to go the way they need to go.

_________

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Gemini, Cancer

Song: SUNRISE by MICHELLE

Vibes: Yellow, gold, blue, pink, black, squid, octopus, crows, activism, spiral, swirls, fencing, fairies, bubbles, stars, oranges, grapes, peaches, apricots, fruit, 4444, 88, 13

Cards: King of Swords, 4 of Wands, Death, 7 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Page of Swords, Raindrops, Opening Circle, Baraka

Welcome, pile two! Lord Apollo wants me to tell you to take a chance on that person. It could be someone you are romantically interested in but it could also just be someone you want to get to know better. This person you are interested in feels like an air sign (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius). Remember you aren't as naive as you used to be. Broaden your horizons. You don't have to sell yourself short anymore. Change how you think about yourself, my dear. You have changed in nature but you still see yourself in the same light that you used to see yourself. You aren't a victim anymore. I will also say don't throw all caution to the wind. Make sure you have a back up plan and remember to keep yourself safe. Just know you don't have to be as scared as you used to be. You are strong. You are driven. You are powerful. You don't have to hide in fear anymore.

Lord Apollo knows you have been through some scary stuff in the past. What you went through wasn't your fault. You have spent a while mourning and that was important for you to do. You don't have to mourn anymore. You can open your heart up to healing. You can look for love in other people again. He recognizes how much you have grown and wants you to know he is proud of your progress. You have learned what you needed to learn. You are protected from the pain you felt before. It won't happen again. The universe, Lord Apollo and you are looking after you. You are safe. Lord Apollo promises that.

____________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Aries, Taurus, Capricorn

Song: Under the Sun by TWRP

Vibes: Grey, purple, orange, green, shore line, salamanders, lizards, raven, lion, baby's breath flowers, nest, wedding cake, birthday cake, solar plexus chakra, sacral chakra, 1010, 1111

Cards: The Tower, King of Wands, Queen of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, 10 of Cups, 6 of Wands, Wings, Earth Mother, Mantra Medicine

Hi, pile three. Lord Apollo really wants you to listen to your mentors and friends. There is something you want to do. I don't want to sugar coat it, my dear. It is a bad idea. Your guides have been trying to steer you from this path because it is going to be very hard and it doesn't have to be. He asks you to listen closely to the music you have listening too. Pay attention to the music you hear when you are out in public. The lyrics are trying to tell you something important about this big choice you want to make. There is a reason things have been delayed so much. There is a reason why everything has been going wrong. Your friends and guides are trying to protect you from someone who is hurting you. Why are you letting them hurt you? Why are you letting them control you? Why? I want you to really REALLY think when I ask you this. Is this person hurting you? Do they actually make you feel good? Are they erasing who you are? Do they make you wear a mask when you are around them?

Lord Apollo showed me visions of my ex when I started doing this reading. He showed me how depressed my ex made me feel. He showed me how all my friends told me not to go with my ex, but I did anyway. The song I put in this readings description was a song I listened to when I was with him to cope with the pain he put me through. (I hadn't read the cards yet when I put that song there.) Please hear me. Please hear you friend and please hear Lord Apollo. Do not trust someone who says they love you but then treats you like trash. You are so much better than that. You deserve better than that. I see that there are two paths. You can either deepen you connection and trap yourself with this person who is not treating you right. OR you can leave them and give yourself the freedom you deserve. If you choose to deepen the connection it will prolong your pain. You will still end up leaving this person. You will just leave with darker bruises and no self esteem. I have been with someone like this. My guides told me to leave too. It took me a long time to listen and it hurt more the longer I stayed. Please trust Lord Apollo. Please trust your friends. They truly love you. They want what is best for you.

_________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Sagittarius, Virgo, Pisces

Song: baseball by Hippo Campus

Vibes: Light yellow, light blue, light purple, pastels, black, alternative fashion, yoga, smoke cleansing, geckos, flowery patterns, florida water, perfume, white roses, red dress, sunflowers, hyacinths, cats, 333, 4, 22, 111

Cards: Ace of Wands, Queen of Swords, Page of Swords, The Lovers, Queen of Wands, The Well, Tower, Vervain Everlasting, Salamander

Hello, pile four. Welcome to your message from Lord Apollo. Lord Apollo is telling me you lost someone. You think about them a lot even though you are trying to be independent. Your heart longs for this person all the time. I'm so sorry you lost them. I don't mean to be insensitive but you need to let go of them. They aren't yours anymore. You aren't theirs even if you are still under their spell. I'm very sorry. I can hear your crying to love songs you two used to share. It hurts deeply to listen to something that used to give you so much pleasant emotion. Lord Apollo knows how that feels. He know how it feels too long for someone and cry for days at the loss of them. It is hard to move on. I won't doubt that. He apologizes for your pain. Apollo wants to help sooth your heart.

Lord Apollo wants to help you express the pain you feel. I think you may have felt the need to write something recently. He wants to encourage that desire. He will help you. Write poetry or journal. Whatever you feel drawn to do with writing. I think writing romance stories might help you sore heart heal. Your emotions are a well of creativity. Harness the pain and turn it into ecstatic beauty. If you still feel lonely after writing you heart out my dear. You should get a cat and some rose quartz. You are spellbound by this person who had to go. Cats are good at protecting you from energy from spell work. They absorb negative energy and neutralize it. It will be good for your heart to love a little creature. Cats are also very good at teaching independence. Plus, they are very good cuddle buddies. Apollo and me wish you luck. I hope you heart moves on from the pain. I believe in you, my dear.

[spicedwatermel0n]

Young adult designs

Finally redesigned them!!! I wasn't really comfortable with keeping my late teen designs and young adult designs looking mostly the same aside from a few minor details so this is to fix that!! I've said I was gonna do this for a while lmfao... Anyways this look will span from 21 to 30 in which they undergo changes that I may not post rn? Adult and early teens are both sort of untouched designs. I have the looks in mind, but they're not really heavy on plot so... They haven't been drawn out. But I will post middle aged designs!! Now for obligatory "what are they like"

Nigel: looks pretty dead beat. He lost his arm in a mission for the KND some time ago. He's difficult to find, as he doesn't really... Live anywhere. If you need him, just wish for him. He'll probably arrive... Or not, because he's not a mind reader. He's starting to get into minor conflicts with the police. No one knows anything more about him, and that's probably his goal.

Hoagie: went cold turkey on EVERYTHING when he got his apartment. He's too busy fooling around with Wally or working to do anything bad to himself... He works a pretty rough 7-5 at a store where he does whatever they ask him to. Stock shelves, mop the floors, deal with customers... But it keeps a roof over his head, so he does it. He tends to wear a basic company uniform to work, that he absolutely DESPISES. Once he's home, he usually gets into something feminine. His job sometimes requires him to work extra hours or stay a bit longer to finish something. He holds internal anger for it, because he just wants to get home and smother Wally with love, but he does it because he DOES get paid for overtime. That's the least he could ask for, really.

Kuki: working a 9-5. She plans on getting to college to become a lawyer at some point. No one knows what exactly her job is. It's not her fault, she just doesn't care for it enough to remember. She got top surgery at 22 after working her ass off for the money she'd need. Don't tell anyone, but Hoagie helped a little. Also, she has her own apartment, too. It's really fancy and decked out, but she lives alone. She likes it that way. After years of living with her parents, she needs alone time all the time, unless she actively decides to invite someone over.

Wally: also went cold turkey on everything when he moved into the apartment. He's taking college classes at UVA to become a pediatrician. It's not quite Harvard, but it's damn near close. He's actually pretty dedicated to it. ADHD medication is the sole reason he can be so dedicated. He tends to wear somewhat feminine attire, as he's learning to understand that he doesn't have to conform to how society believes the genders should dress, and isn't any less of a boy just because he wants to wear feminine clothing.

Abby: going to an unknown college for her therapist degree. She doesn't tell anyone because she worries they may show up there to bother her, or something along those lines. She's often very busy studying, and if she isn't, she's doing volunteer work. She lives with her parents still. Chronically tired, just like, a little bit more than before. She has stopped caring about what she wears and just puts on whatever the hell works. She visits Kuki whenever she needs socialization or love.

Additional piece: the layout of Hoagie and Wally's apartment. This was for my own reference but I'd figure I'd post it

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Fifteen

A/n: Hey:) There's a lot going on in this part, but also a new pov, though it's really short! Couple of surprises in here too... haven't been too active as of late either and I'm not too sure when the next part will be out, just struggling atm but I hope you enjoy fifteen!:)

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Body issues, insecurities, panic attacks, lots of emotions basically... but there's some fluff too, very lovely stuffs:)

Masterlist

--

“You ready?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Lee’s gentle voice. He was stood in the bathroom’s doorway waiting patiently for me, he wore a soothing smile. The unnecessary gesture helped ease my mind somewhat, but I noted that my hand was still trembling even as I moved to stand. 

I nodded at him in a silent reply. 

Even after the assent, it took me an embarrassing amount of time to pull myself up off the hospital bed- I had been getting better and better at it though. In truth, it had taken everything but a forklift to get me up out of it the first time around, since then things had only gotten easier for me, even with all the aches and pains. Because if there was anything anyone should know about me it was that I was stubborn to an absolute fault.

Lee didn’t comment on the pace though, nor my stiff gait as I slowly made my way towards him. Instead he simply asked me other things to keep my brain active. How I'd slept, if I'd caught up on this new show we'd both been watching, what music Matty'd had me listening to.

“Where’s our Matty today then anyway? Patients have been commenting on the sudden peace and quiet.”

I snorted and Lee, the sweetheart, gave me an apologetic smile when I winced at the sudden pain that flooded my chest. Even so, I was still unable to help the small grin I gave him.

“He’s downstairs getting breakfast with Ross.” I replied, picking at the remnants of the plaster they’d removed from my inner elbow when they’d taken the IV out. “Wanted to be on my own for this part.”

I was gifted an understanding nod in reply to my faint admission, and Lee took my good arm in his when I finally reached him. That was all that was said on the topic.

The bathroom was pretty big compared to what I’d actually pictured the first time I’d tried getting out of bed for a wee. It was a shower room, or that’s what Matty had called it. It had a sink and its very own toilet, but it was essentially just a massive shower. The head was situated on the far side wall and had a square drain just below it, but there were no dividers in the floor that separated the shower from the rest of the room. Only another long drain by the door’s threshold. 

It was a pretty cool concept, but I’d yet to put it to actual use. That was what this morning was all about though. And to say that I was nervous would have been a huge fucking understatement.

I inhaled as best as I could whilst my eyes darted around the mostly void space, needing to ebb some of the anxiety I felt, but even that simple task was slowly getting easier for me. I had to admit that Dr. Mann’s advice on doing those breathing and coughing exercises had sounded inhuman and had fucking killed the first few times round, but they were working. Helping a lot actually. And that’s all I could really ask for. 

Hopefully soon enough I’ll be out of this place. But I’ll easily admit that I will definitely miss all the lovely patients that have been in and out of here too, as well as some of the wards amazing staff. They’d truthfully been such a massive support system and had helped endlessly when I’d needed a distraction from my own frail state.

“You gonna be okay?” Lee questioned me then, it was a prompt, that much was sure, but his voice held so much sincerity. He was one of the few I’d come to treasure most. 

I glanced towards him and forced myself to give him a verbal response, after all he’d had to put up with my silent nods and moody cues all morning. 

“Yeah.” I breathed, eyes dancing away from his again, scared he’d see through my lie. “And you’ll be just outside the door, in case I need you?” I added quietly. 

“Just a shout away.” Lee reassured me in that sweet tone of his, rubbing at my forearm once before evidently letting go. He gestured towards one of the bathroom’s corners, “And if you can’t shout, then try and pull that long orange rope for me, yeah? Like we spoke about.”

I swallowed then pulled my bottom lip into my mouth. 

Lee must’ve known that I wasn’t in much of talkative mood, because he smiled once more and then went to take a seat back by the bed. I dragged myself to my impending doom, carefully shutting the door behind me.

I took a moment then to centre myself, locking the latch promptly, and then turned to have another look around. A towel had already been hung up for me just by the sink, one from home, and a small array of shower essentials were lined up on a hanger by the shower head, though, the mirror was what caught my immediate attention.

It was something I’d been avoiding each and every time I came in to use the sink or the toilet, now though… I almost felt myself drifting towards it. First with my eyes, unable to draw my gaze away from it for too long, and then with my body altogether. It just seemed to automatically stray in that direction.

Then with a jerk, I realised the intention there and quickly turned away before I could get a close enough look, pivoting back towards the shower head instead. I started it up.

It had been a long couple days. Tiring, although all I'd done is mainly just sleep. 

They’d seemed to drag on though, so repetitive, so mundane.

Just meds, meds, meds.

And talk, talk, talk.

I wanted to be out of here already. I wanted to be back home, where I felt safe. Home, where I could hole away for a while and deal with this all properly. Instead of facing it head on whilst having to front a smile for everyone else at the same time.

One bad day. One terrible fucking evening. And now my whole world felt as though it had fallen apart. Like sand seeping through clasped hands.

Usually, I was the one who knew how to deal with it all, with everything life threw at me. I knew how to cope. I was the one who’d always coped. I had to be. I’d always been. That was just how it had always worked. With my dad, then with mum, and the guys…

The water heated beneath my palm. I let my eyes slip close.

I was devastated, honestly. That’s the only word I could use to describe the way I’d been feeling recently. 

It felt like I was stuck in this never ending loop, a blackhole of nothingness. A vicious cycle of good and then shit and then fucked. Because when things were finally going good, finally getting better, life would just mow me the fuck back down. Literally, this time around, my mind unhelpfully supplied.

So as I carefully undressed and stepped under the shower's warm water, I had to try very hard not to think back to that night. To the screech of tires. To the shouts of my name. But the water it reminded me too much of the rain. It itched and it burned my skin. And it all felt a little too much. 

Blindly I swatted outwards towards the shower’s temperature dial, turning it and turning it until I shocked my body back to the present with a sharp stinging cold.

I had yet to even open my eyes either. To peer down at my battered body. The scars that marred it, both new and old. And still, I wanted to cry.

I swallowed, again. But that lump I felt forming in the back of my throat was only growing. I had to lean against the wall to stabilise myself, body shaking now. Panic coming in waves. I only had one free hand, the other in its cast and wrapped up tight, impenetrable to the water. I used it to soften the fall of my head when I let it hang, unable to hold it up much longer. 

My hair was wet, I could feel it clinging to the back of my neck. I promised I’d try to keep it out from under the spray, the wound they're still tender. But now it was wet and I’d gone and broken that promise. That thought only crumpled me further, cowering me in the corner just outside the spray’s cold curtain.

My chest heaved even in the frigid room and the water clung to the tiles and to my skin. It made me shiver even though I felt like I was close to melting.

My ribs hurt, my whole upper body really. And my arm slipped out from under me causing my hand fall to my side. Thoughtlessly I laid my fingertips against the skin there, wondering briefly if it was yellowing, or if it was still black and blue and purple. My breath hitched when I felt the new groove there. The line that numbed my fingers enough for them to dart away on their own accord. My arm followed just behind them and I found myself slumping, turning and slipping further down the tiled wall. Everything so cold.

I don’t know how much time passed before a tentative knock sounded on the door.

My head darted up so quickly I fretted over whether or not I’d just added whiplash to my extensive list of injuries. But I had to make sure that the door was still locked. That no one else could get in. I didn’t need anyone seeing me like this.

“Y/n? You alright in there?”

It was just Lee. 

“It’s just Lee.” I whispered to myself then inhaled sharply, ignoring the heat that licked its way through my chest. I forced a bravado. “Yeah!” I called back to him over the strength of the shower, “Fine!”

“You sure?”

“‘Course! Be out soon.”

I heard his hummed assent and then saw his shadow disappear from beneath the door. 

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I huffed, digging a knuckle into the corner of my eye and forcing myself to toughen up. “Fuck.” I repeated again, even softer than the last. The panic still looming.  

I strained myself trying to stand, gripping the nearby bar to aid me, but I did it in the end. And I had to push everything out of my head during the next few moments that followed, strategically washing myself down and rinsing off before I could crumble again. I kept my eyes tightly shut throughout it all, dismissing the more tender areas of my mangled body and focusing on the task at hand.

I could only assume that it was over in minutes, but those minutes had felt like hours to me. It’d almost been torturous.

I was quick to step away from where I’d been toying with the spray, too scared to fully submerge myself under it again, and was cautious not to slip as I tiptoed my way over towards the towel. 

It was honestly by chance that I happened to look up when I’d gotten the towel wrapped round me, only to see that I was in line with the mirror. 

So I stood there, bare feet pressed against the chilly laminate tiles beneath me, and tried to keep my breaths even. Match the heartbeat I heard in my left ear. The fine cut of silver that hung above the sink stared back at me mercilessly, and although now it was slightly fogged, I couldn’t find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The girl who stood within its four harsh lines was the same person I’d always been, only this girl, she was also the person I’d been running from. Trying to escape. For so, very long.

I watched when the smudgey girl walked closer to me, then observed the way she held up a frail hand to wipe at the chilly glass. The sound it made echoed within the room but it cleared the steam. 

Looking, I saw that her hair was long -unruly, really- longer than it had been in years. The ends of it they crept their way across the line of her shoulders and like ivy they intertwined, framing her features and darkening the colour that normally resided in irises so bright and alive. Those eyes were somewhat sunken this morning, hazy, hidden beneath heavy lids and black lashes that were long. The skin beneath them dark, only emphasising the vivid scarlet that rimmed her waterline and shot across the whites of her eyes like lightning.

Her cheeks were hollow which only made her look all the more gaunt. Haunted almost. And were exaggerated by the gloomy shadow of sodden hair that had fallen into her face. I blinked, watching the way she licked lightly at her muted pink lips. They were dry, bitten and frayed from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted ever so slightly that her hot breath was able to fog the mirrored glass a tad. 

The face she wore was young, unlined by worry, supple yet sharp. But had also been kissed by the cruel blades of glass and falling debris, spoiled by fading bruises that crept across the skin of her jaw and temples. Those bruises trickled though, inch by inch down her body, over her shiny collarbones and beneath the towel she’d swaddled herself in.

Some, a mere few, had described her face as beautiful, effortlessly pretty, but if she was being honest, deep down she knew that it was just a mask. A disguise used to conceal everything she herself didn’t want to see, didn’t want to seep out and taint what little good remained of her.

I gazed at the sad reflection, and it gazed back at me. I had to bite back and swallow down the fear that crawled its way up my throat- because yes, she was pretty, but she was also ruined, monstrous, and marred. The accident only further proved that point and I had to stand there and just stare, picking myself up piece by piece. 

And believe it or not, it wasn’t for the first time. I found myself wondering over how many pieces I'd lost, missing or scattered, like that of an overused puzzle. 

—ROSS’S POV—

“Fucking stupid.” Ross mumbled hotly under his breath, wondering why he’d ever even agreed to helping out in the first place.

“Oh just piss off, Ross.”

He turned his head and sent a bored glare in the direction the voice had come from. Matty was on the other side of the room from him, playing with blankets and pillows, and just being an overall twat really.

“You piss off. How the fuck have you had me standing here for the last fifteen minutes? My arms are aching, mate.”

Matty merely rolled his eyes and Hann, who was a way away, holding up the other end which belonged to one of the endless supplies that Matty had coerced him into bringing over, sighed too. For a minute there Ross actually thought he was going to have some back up, but knew he was wrong the second Adam opened his fat mouth.

“Toughen up and hold it higher, would you?”

“Yeah, what Hann said!” Matty snarked, looking back at them from inside the fortress he’d started to build. “Besides, you’re a fucking tree, Ross, this should feel like light work to you.” 

Ross’s eyes only narrowed further and he had to clench his jaw to keep from actually decking Hann and Matty both when the pair of them only continued to hassle him over his placement of the string. He just hoped that Y/n showered quickly.

—

Even though it’d been a fucking task, one which left me feeling drained and scrubbed raw. It also did feel really good to be clean again. No more blood or sweat.

I’d long since shut the shower off and had to call out to Lee to ask for the clothes I’d accidentally left on the foot of my bed in my haste to get this whole thing over with, as well as my reluctancy to even go through with it. My head had been a mess, in shorter terms, so it was just a surprise that the clothes had been the only thing I’d forgotten.

Although, instead of the neat pile I’d made, Lee had slipped a baggy through the cracked opening I'd made in the door whilst cowering behind it, wrapped up securely in my towel. I’d frowned and told him he must’ve misheard me, but the nurse only shook the bag and told me, with a small chuckle, that he definitely hadn’t misunderstood. So I’d taken it and had been so pleasantly surprised by the sight that had greeted me upon opening it up.

My dressing gown! The one I lived when I was home, the same one I’d been gifted a few years ago by my nana. It was the perfect ratio of fluffy to towel, and left you feeling as though you were wandering around a spa. I almost squealed as I draped it over my shoulders, revelling in the immense comfort it brought me even with the struggle to get my casted arm through the sleeve.

I didn’t sneak another glance in the mirror though, mostly due to the fact that I couldn’t face it, but also because already knew that I was sporting a smile. It was a very thoughtful gift and I wondered over who had the foresight to bring it to the hospital for me. 

Nevertheless, I upturned the rest of the bag I’d been handed and found that the gown hadn’t been my only gift. A pair of newly brought slippers rested at the bottom, alongside a silk hair-tie and a pair of… lacy knickers. 

I snorted out loud at the sight of them, instantly clueing onto the suspect at hand. Only Healy would push his luck like this. But I still slipped into them, as well as the slippers that felt like an honest to god dream. Then took the time to try and tuck the damp strands of my hair into a loose ponytail with the tie I’d been gifted, but it was a shoddy attempt due to me being only one handed and unable to tug my arms up any higher than my waist. And that was with me really trying, too. 

I sighed huffily to myself and gave up after the third attempt, but didn’t let it dampen the warmth that had shrouded me since I’d received the goodie bag. Though, I did find myself having to take a couple more breaths before I actually unlocked the door and pulled it open.

I didn’t know what I’d expected waiting on the other side of it. Perhaps Lee lounging on one of the many chairs that scattered the room, or Matty and Ross pissing about after having returned from the canteen. But this.. this surely wasn’t it.

“Surprise!” The four boys shouted at me. Ross wearing a fancy tiara and grinning like a clown from where he’d made himself comfortable on the end of my bed. Hann holding a tray of cupcakes topped with chocolate and fondant whilst giving me a lopsided smile, one that sort of gave away his helpless shrug and said, ‘Sorry if you hate this but here you go’. Lee was there too, chuckling away at the picture my face must’ve made, recording it all on someones phone. And then there was Matty, who was beaming brightly just by the bathroom door with his hands hidden behind his back, rocking in place.

My mouth was wide open and swinging in complete truth, this was all so incredible. From the buffet of snacks that had been smuggled in, as well as the banners and streamers that were hung up on the walls, to the balloons which littered the corners of the room and made the entrance to the pillow fortress that had been made even grander.

My eyes, watering and bright, darted between the four as I struggled to find the right words to say, or any words at all.

“Wow.” Was what I settled on and chuckled along with the rest of them even when Matty pulled me into a hug. “Did you plan all this?” I whispered out loud, wet gaze still jumping around what had once been my dreary hospital room.

Matty’s grin when he pulled away from me was only that much brighter and he nodded at me rapidly before he asked, “You like it then?”

“Like it?” I breathed out in awe, “I fucking love it.”

I turned to the rest of them on shaky feet, “Thank you. All of you. I- I don’t know what to say to be honest.”

“How about dig in?” Ross decided for me, already jumping up to cross the room. My attention followed his. “I picked up a Chinese a while ago and it’s been sat in that bag just waiting for me.”

I cracked an airy chuckle and rolled my eyes at him before gesturing to go ahead. “By all means, mate. Hate for you to go hungry on my account.”

Matty snorted from beside me and I glanced over when he leant in closer and whispered, “Watched him eat three cookies and eight of them mini sausage rolls before I had to have Hann take over unpacking everything for him.”

“Sounds about right.” I hummed, taking a cupcake from Adam when he approached whilst Matty darted his way over to take the phone from Lee. I could only assume that they'd started watching it when the two of them begun chuckling and smiling down at the thing. “Thanks again, for the cupcake and the party.” I smiled towards Adam and took a small bite out of the side of the frosted treat, “So, who’s bright idea was all this then?”

Hann quirked a brow in retort that told me more than his smirk ever did. “Do you even need to ask?” He jerked his chin back over towards the curly haired prat in the corner. “Texted me late last night, wanting to cheer you up.”

Ah.

I nodded at Hann slowly. Last night had been a tough one. I’d felt grim. The pain wouldn’t subside so I couldn't sleep. And I was non-stop crying. Just fraying at the edges, waiting to come undone.

Matty had been there though, alongside the doctors and Lee. I hated the thought of them seeing me like that, so weak and fragile. Even a bit embarrassed about the whole charade now I was stood with Hann. I tried to ignore it.

“Carls should be by too,” Adam mentioned to me, “Wanted to stop in after work.”

I grinned, I loved the party they'd thrown but seeing Carly right now would probably top seeing Bowie play live. Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. But I’d only seen her in brief passing this week, when I’d been hazing in and out of sleep due to the medication I’d been on. But I did know that she’d stopped by an awful lot though, I’d woken up to see flowers on the sill, and my favourite chocolates on the side. Her lovely perfume always seemed to linger too. 

The late morning quickly bled into afternoon and I found myself forgetting about pain and hurt and lies. Just bathing in the warmth I felt surrounding me. Lee had gone back to making his rounds but said he’d be stopping in again before he finished. Leaving me with two adult children and an annoyingly loved up couple when Carly finally arrived. I made the most of it though, because I loved them. And I could see the amount of love they had for me in return during the time we spent playing board games and talking and gossiping about ours lives and just laughing.

It all felt so surreal.

It was actually long past visiting hours when the nurse on-duty finally had to kick Ross, Hann and Carly out- but they’d only been able to stay as long as they had because no one else on the ward had had any complaints about them, seeing as we’d passed around the shit ton of food Matty had gone and ordered.

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling away though even as the door shut behind the three. I was sad to see them go but still so energised by the good time we’d had.

“Oi.”

My head turned towards where Matty’s voice had come from and frowned when he was nowhere to be seen. 

“Matty? Where the fuck are you?” I asked around an amused snort. I really shouldn’t have been all that surprised when he stuck his head out of the fort he'd made with spare sheets and filled with pillows, but somehow I was.

“You coming or what?” He beckoned me.

I stared a him for a very long second before an airy laugh escaped me, the only sort that didn’t seem to hurt all that much these days. And without another word said, I stood and made my way over to join him, smiling in appreciation when he gave me his hand so that I could lower myself down onto the floor.

“Your castle awaits you and all that crap.” Matty whispered to me with a goofy grin and helped settle me into a comfortable position, one where a mountain of pillows was able to cocoon my body.

Once I was okay and ignoring the twitch in my back, I could finally glance about the place. I hadn’t had the chance to look it over before with all the excitement that'd been going on, but it really was incredible. Somehow Matty had managed to wrangle up an impressive number of sheets which stretched from one side of my bed over to two chairs he’d found, he’d strung up a few strings of battery operated fairy lights that trailed from one end to another, and had my laptop already opened up to Netflix.

The smile I broke into stretched my skin when Matty pressed play and the intro to one of my all-time favourite films begun to play. It then grew impossibly wider when he pulled a bowl of popcorn out of nowhere and nestle it between us.

I had to reel it in a tad, I knew that, but it was hard. I didn't think many people had gone so above and beyond for me before. I felt truly loved.

“This better be salted, Healy.” I told him with a mock stern expression, cautiously taking a piece from the bowl.

Matty rolled his eyes at me, “Yes, alright, Drama queen. Don’t have a conniption on me.”

My mouth quirked on its own accord. “Be the best place for it, but I’d hate to go and ruin your plans.”

With an exasperated shake of his head and a hidden smile that wasn’t quite so hard to see, Matty stole a handful and popped some into his gob. “It’s salted, princess. Promise.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “For your sake you’d better not be lying.”

He laughed happily. “What’ve you got against sweet? Or buttered, or God forbid-”

I shot a hand out to clasp it over his mouth. “If you dare say toffee, I swear.”

“Toffee.” Matty finished, having licked my palm to free himself from my hold. I grimaced at both the foul gesture and the flavour.

“It’s the worst kind!”

“As opposed to stuffing your face with salt? It just dries your mouth out.”

I levelled him with a serious look, “Says the man inhaling it.”

Matty shrugged at me, eyes locked back on the screen. “’S good.”

He hushed me before I could contradict him and so I simply settled on a well deserved huff, relaxing further into the cushions whilst the films soundtrack played and Matty stole another handful of popcorn from the bowl.

—

My brow pinched when I stirred awake and my entire body ached with it. I hissed quietly to myself as I peered through squinted eyes to try and get a grasp back on reality.

It seemed like Matty and I had fallen asleep in the fort whilst watching old film classics late last night and if the sun, which skittered through the opening of sheets surrounding us, was to be believed it was now early morning. 

I rubbed at my tired eyes then practically jumped out of my skin when Ross’s giant head popped into view at the entrance, scaring the shit out of me. I put a hand to my heart as an inaudible gasp bypassed my lips and had to narrow my eyes at him when he merely laughed in retort.

“Knob.” I cursed him, sniffing before I caught sight of a still-sleeping Matty sprawled out beside me, mouth wide open and catching flies, his head nestled into my side.

“You love me really.” Ross replied rightly as his gaze skirted between us. His happy expression dimmed by a couple dozen bulbs and was rapidly replaced by a solemn sort of smile, “Er, you fancy coming out to join me? And maybe not waking him up whilst you’re at it.”

At the confused face I pulled, Ross just gave me an imploring sort of look with his eyes that I couldn’t outright ignore, and so when I carefully nodded in agreement he stuck out a hand. Slowly but surely he pulled me from the makeshift tent and with a pained wince I thanked him.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He replied and the furrow between my brows only deepened at his words.

“Ross, what-” 

But my sentence was immediately cut short when my eyes met the shrivelled figure who was stood by the door, their face a priceless picture, appearing as though they were about to make a dive for the window instead of the actual door. Desperation and guilt swarming every fibre of their being.

“George?”

Part sixteen>

[bingerzone]

Hey!! So about the OCs in your most recent art post, what’s going on there? I see a lot of drama there and i would love to know more 👀

I love you for asking this. Insane amount of lore under the cut. I'll also be adding the art I've already done when I talk about that part of the story! Btw fair warning this Yaoi sure can toxic!!! (Some light cnc and sex is mentioned)

So, firstly, I'll explain who these ocs are :)

So, this is Dios Apate- he is a hexblood who, after running away from his mother at 14, was raised by a thieves guild known as The Veil- mostly by it's leader, Erwin Mourningmoon. He's a cocky, flirtatious conman who probably? Maybe? Has a heart of gold under all of his greed, but with him actively trying to hide any hint of goodness in him, who's to say?

(^Art by @kiwibyrd ) Ok, next up,

Dante is the son of Erwin Mourningmoon, Heir to The Veil and Dios's childhood friend. They were trained side by side by Erwin, who, much to Dante's chagrin, treated Dios like a second son (Although they never saw each other as anything even close to brothers- in fact, Dios had a crush on Dante from a young age). One day, Dante overheard his father and a higher-up in the guild discussing which of Erwin's "sons" would inherit the guild- and the moment Dios's name left his father's mouth Dante ran off, not listening to the rest of the conversation... So, Dante planned to have Dios arrested by tipping off the guards where the next place he would be robbing was. That... didn't quite go as planned. The guards decided one dirty street kid wasn't worth the trouble, and decided to just kill Dios outright. However, Erwin, who had a bad feeling about the job, had been tailing Dios, and jumped to his rescue- only to fall after taking down well over a dozen guards. Dios believed he was caught because of his own stupidity- and therefor, that Erwin's death was his fault... so he ran. However, in The Veil, when you fuck up, there is a way to atone. A gift is traditional- but it must be as valuable as the mistake you made. So, Dios set off to be the richest man the city had ever seen, hoping to give everything he had to Dante- the new leader of The Veil- and beg for forgiveness for causing the death of his father. Dios finds himself in a new land- a new continent altogether, about to start the pre-written adventure Call of the Netherdeep (We haven't started yet, we gotta finish Strahd, so to stave off my brainrot I have been just talking about possible things that could happen with my partners- after this point none of it has actually happened yet, and might not happen at all, but I consider it a type of canon, even if it won't be canon to the main timeline) So, that's when Dios meets Harlow

Harlow Goldbriar belongs to my boyfriend @aberranteidolon ! He is an Earth Genasi paladin who has a stick so far up his ass that you can see it when he talks. Harlow is a walking weapon, and is treated like nothing but a tool by his peers and family. He is serious and convicted, which makes him the perfect toy for Dios to play with. And, even better, he's married! (Little does Dios know it's a loveless, abusive marriage- his wife married him only for the precious little gem in his chest. She has plenty of jewelry made from his amethyst heart). Still, Dios has zoned in on this man and is dead set on fucking him and ruining his marriage, for fun. Dios is a little shit. They get into many, many arguments and physical altercations, and whether they admit it or not, getting each other bloody and panting is the most they've ever enjoyed themselves. And yet, when he finally see's Harlow's heart for one reason or another (probably in a 'only one bed' situation lets be real) he realizes two things. 1. Inside of Harlow is the biggest gem he's ever seen, and not only is it huge, it's laced with magic. This alone could pay off his debt to Dante, and 2. He can't do it. Harlow is asleep beside him, and his fingers are wrapped around the sharp stone- it would be easy, just one tug and it was his and Harlow would be gone. But he can see the way Harlow's chest is rising and lowering in his sleep, and the way his expression is so soft, so serene... and he lets it go, deciding to make his fortune in other ways.

They grow increasingly obsessed with each other, and just closer in general. Dios starts sneaking copies of Harlow's favorite book series (trashy vampire romance, of course) into his bags while he's away. Dios's flirting starts to really get to Harlow, and he can tell there's something... wrong. He's actually considering cheating on his rich, powerful wife with this sneaky little thief... all because it's the first time he's ever felt loved.

After weeks of adventuring together, the tension FINALLY snaps and they fuck. We have many, many ideas for how their first time would go, but my personal favorites are "A fight gets so sexually charged that Harlow just starts fucking him" and "Dios says it's not cheating on his wife if Harlow doesn't consent and fucks Harlow while Harlow half-heartedly goes 'wait, dios, no, please' and makes absolutely no move to stop him".

The second one is extra fun because if Harlow wanted to he could easily toss Dios across the room, and has before. From there, it goes from sexual tension to romantic tension...

And then, Dante enters the picture again. We don't know why yet or how it will go down, just that we will have the ability to have him in our party at some point. So, of course, Harlow and Dante don't get along at ALL. Harlow is jealous of how sweet Dios is around Dante, and of how close they are/how long they have known each other, and Dante is jealous of how head-over-heels Dios is for Harlow and how Harlow has actually had sex with him. Dios has been in love with Dante since they were kids of course, but he is also deeply in love with Harlow at this point and terrified of it. It leads to some fun possessiveness and probably some rockin "I bet I could pleasure him better than you" sex that Dios gets stuck in the middle of :3

Eventually, though, they all start to get closer. Still- Harlow confesses to Dios first. Dios is the first person to ever treat him like... a person. The first person to be upset on his behalf, the first person to learn about his interests, the first person to hold him softly and treat him with reverence, like he was fragile... It sort of breaks something in Dios to hear the confession, so he completely reverts to his old self and laughs in his face, "Love me? You don't even know me! I... I can't believe you fell for my loverboy act, are you an idiot? I... I could never fall for... I would never..." And he just runs off, and Harlow is left alone. Dante tells him to chase him- and Harlow does- he finds Dios hiding, nearly sobbing in a closet, and he holds him. He holds Dios tighter than he's ever held him, and Dios scratches and bites and says awful things to try and get away, but Harlow doesn't let him. He holds him and takes every bit of it until Dios calms down, telling him over and over again that he loves him and that he's not going to let him run off so easily... and once Dios's body is exhausted from thrashing and his voice raw from yelling, he says "I love you too."

And, this part is far less developed, but eventually Dante and Dios get together romantically as well, and it becomes a hinge polycule... Dante starts off a shitty little asshole- he's always treated Dios like his property, and he didn't start getting better until he realized if he didn't start treating Dios well, someone else would. He does love Dios- I think he has for a while- but that doesn't mean he respects him as an equal. On his adventure, Dios gains a lot of self confidence and the ability to stand up to Dante, which scares Dante to death. He has to learn to respect Dios, or lose him forever, and he mostly does the former, eventually. Because Harlow puts the fear of god in him lmao. I have no idea what would happen if Harlow found out that Dante is the reason that Erwin died, and was the reason Dios almost died... but the drama would be fucking INTENSE. If Dios found out (which he probably would) He would attack Dante, using only his fists, no daggers or rapiers, and Dante would take every hit while Dios dissolves into a sobbing mess above him. I love the idea of Dios's voice cracking "I... Dante I loved you..." and him responding through busted lips, "I love you too."

That's a lot of it, but far from all of it, so if you have any more questions or want more info on certain parts, PLEASE ask, I LOVE talking about them so fucking much!!!!!!! And here's the TLDR (An old thing I made honestly before they were very developed at all:)

[doodle-pops]

Dating Celegorm Would Include...

↬ One of the most spontaneous persons in the family. When you’re with him, you’re never bored.

↬ Unless you don’t like outdoor adventures, then you’ll have to convince him to stay more indoors. This would be a challenge since he was practically raised outdoors and he's going to take you hunting quite often.

↬ He’ll take you on adventures, almost every day, from visiting lakes to meadows, fields of flowers, waterfalls, and random hikes at two in the morning.

↬ Huan always accompanies you two, in case you get tired of walking, he’d carry you. This, unfortunately, has been a reason for arguments to break out on your trips.

↬ Huan will offer to carry you and Celegorm will become jealous that you're giving his dog more attention than him. This results in him snatching you from Huan and whisking you away because that should be his job.

↬The look on your face is what makes him believe that he’s doing a good job in your relationship. If you’re not smiling, then it's either his fault (which takes forever for him to admit, or it’s either your fault). There’s no in-between.

↬ He is all for PDA and no he doesn't care what others think about him showing his affection. He mostly enjoys these acts to see you flustered, which means he's going to be taking them up a notch. He loves to walk around shirtless just to see you combust, you are lucky you haven't suffered a nosebleed those times or you did.

↬ With that being said, he’ll kiss your lips every time you two meet. In front of his family too. No shame.

↬ ‘What do you mean I can’t kiss them in front of you’ ‘ammë and atya do it all the time in front of us’ not with that much vigour Celegorm. They’re more modest.

↬ Most, if not, all of your dates are outdoors, so cuddling is done outdoors. Though it would be difficult to cuddle someone so active.

↬ Getting him to calm down so you two can cuddle would be a task on its own. But once you do, it's heavenly because his arms are buff but it's uncomfortable because he's always warm so you're sweating.

↬ I mean you can’t, he’s buff and stronger than you, so you’re pinned down for life. But it’s the perfect opportunity to deliver all those extra kisses. So, it's good that you're pinned in those arms.

↬ You do still need to watch out for his anger. As much as he tries his best to avoid you receiving his outbursts, you still get caught up in them. He's quick to defend you and mostly fights to do so. You'll have to be the one to reassure him that it isn't necessary.

↬ He still attempts to fight the person though, behind your back because he knew if you found out...

↬ When you do cry or become upset, he tries his best to make it up to you. Just know that you do have to deal with his temper from time to time.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @starborne0661 @floraroselaughter @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[twistedshipper]

While I haven't vidded as much this year compared to the previous few (lack of inspiration, poor mental health), the several vids I have made just about all deal with dark themes (which may just say something about where I've been mentally as of late), and that includes the one I have scheduled to be released on the 1st of October.

This is something I've felt like talking about on here for a while though but something has always held me back when I would open a new draft to write a more personal post, but, generally, I feel as if the creative spark that has burned so strong and vibrant within me these few years (really since the lockdowns of 2020) has just gone out.

Aside from writing SL (and also working on my prompt for the Merlin Rare Pair Fest, which to be honest I haven't done much for either), I just feel like I have nothing left to say when it comes to Merlin. When I felt my desire to vid fading over the summer, I was excited to feel it replaced by learning how to gif, but even that new energy has waned. I want to create so badly; I know I need to for my own wellbeing, as it brings me so much joy, but nothing is speaking to me at the moment.

I'm not looking for any advice to solve this, as it should be only natural, that inspiration comes and goes (and I've been pretty active in this fandom space for years at this point, so this is only normal, and I feel it must come back at some point), but this brings me to the loneliness I've been feeling on tumblr lately, and that's mostly my own fault for failing to join in the conversations in our small community; again, something holds me back, and that is mainly that I feel unable to hold the conversations I wish to have on here for fear of reproach or an overall lack of interest in the parts of this story that intrigue me.

Anyway, I'm writing this here just to say how I've been feeling and to explain why there's been little new from me lately. I hope that changes in the coming months. But if anything, there will be a new Merlin vid come October (one fitting for the Halloween season) and then there's a few older gifsets I had made on my old blog before I deactivated it that I've been waiting to post again here since I think the content more fitting for the autumnal season. 🍁💀🕯🍂

[timeoverload]

Ok I'm sorry about what I said last night. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or be insensitive so I apologize if it came across that way. You didn't do anything wrong.

I'm just very confused and I guess I should stop worrying about what's going on. Your life is none of my business and I shouldn't try to get involved in anything. I don't know why I keep trying to get answers. I need to accept the fact that you don't want to talk to me or share any information with me. I can't force you to tell me anything. I don't know what you are going through so I shouldn't assume things. I just want to know what is bothering you. I need to stop obsessing about it and I'm sorry for caring too much. It's difficult for me to pretend like I don't.

I'm not sure how to interpret all of the messages you are trying to send me. It seems like you are trying to tell me that I'm evil or that I need to overcome my demons or something. I'm not sure why you would think that I'm evil because I don't think that I am. I don't know if that's what you are trying to say or not.

I'm not sure what demons I need to overcome at this point. I know I'm a lot better than I used to be. I don't really enjoy being sober but I still am so that should count for something. I'm sorry for having the desire to smoke weed to manage my physical pain and anxiety. I don't think having that desire makes me a bad person but I still haven't been doing it since I can't anyway. I also have moved past my previous relationship and I'm mostly content on my own. I do struggle with some stuff but it's mostly due to my physical limitations and I'm learning how to live with my disabilities. I literally can't help the fact that I'm bipolar and it's a disease that I have to live with for the rest of my life. I'm trying really hard to manage it and I'm a lot better at dealing with it than I did when I was younger. I'm doing my best to overcome the anhedonia that I've been experiencing for a while and I don't feel like I should be punished for it because unfortunately that's just a symptom of my mental illness. I shouldn't have said anything bad about my brother either because depression is a very serious condition and I know that. I'm also sorry for being anxious about things and that's another thing I have to try to manage forever. I'm sorry if that bothers you. Also, I have to remind people that my brain isn't structured like everyone else's because it didn't fully develop and that's not my fault. I can't change the fact that I'm different.

I'm actively trying so hard to get out of a toxic work environment on my own. I'm not expecting anyone to fix shit for me and I'm not totally helpless. I know I don't lack self-efficacy. I have gotten out of a lot of bad situations on my own. I deal with a lot of problems by myself. I know sometimes I talk about not having a lot of motivation but I still accomplish more than you think. Sometimes it makes it easier to do things after I vent about it. I have actually gotten a lot of shit done today. I'm a lot stronger than people might perceive me to be. I have literally never been in a situation like this before so I think I'm handling things pretty well given the circumstances. The past couple years have been tough for me.

I also don't think I'm wrong for wanting to spend time with people on a physical level. I don't think I'm wrong for not wanting to spend all of my time in my room and wanting to get out and experience things with people. I don't think I'm wrong for being depressed about not being able to do that. I'm only human and that's a normal thing for a human to desire. I'm sure my serotonin levels would be a lot higher if I could actually be around the people I care about. I don't want to have shallow connections or friendships. That's another reason I didn't want to go to that party last night because I don't feel a deep connection with those people. I do feel a deep connection to the people who read my blog though and it really sucks that everything has to continue to be a secret. I'm tired of all of the rules.

Life is short and I want to be able to enjoy the time that I have instead of wasting it by myself. How long do I have to work on myself and be alone before I'm deemed worthy of human interaction? This sucks and I feel like I have been alone long enough.

I don't have to share anything with you but I choose to because I want you to be a part of my life. I can't force you to reciprocate that even though I wish you could. I should be able to be open about stuff without it being used against me. I should be able to talk about the things that I'm concerned about. Communication is very important in a healthy relationship. I want to have a normal relationship so badly. A lot of disagreements and misunderstandings could be avoided if we could just talk about stuff. I really just want to get along and not argue about anything. I don't even know if you are actually mad at me but I'm not sure what to think right now.

I decided that I should just refrain from posting personal things for a while. I'm not in the mood to continue sharing my feelings at the moment. I'm not trying to "get back" at you for anything but it doesn't seem fair to continue to pour my heart out to you all the time if you can't respond with words. I also don't want to offend you anymore because I feel like I do a lot of the time. I don't want to create any more problems. I just can't continue doing this right now and I spend a lot of time writing stuff. I'm just going to be quiet for a while unless I have something to say that's important. I appreciate you all for putting up with me and listening to me. I love you all.

I love you Maxwell. I really hope we can work things out someday because that would make me extremely happy. I'm looking forward to the day that we can actually have a conversation. I appreciate you and thank you for everything. 💖

[erensrag]

bimbo!reader x judgmental nerd eren

eren x y/n (wc: 3173)

warnings: nswf, slut shaming, slight dubious consent

i don’t think i did this correctly….

"no please, take your time. it's not like we've been here for hours." eren's sharp voice brings you out of your thoughts.

his piercing gaze is right there to meet yours when you finally stop staring at the wall. you chew on your pencil, quickly diverting your attention to the paper in front of you. you've done your best to avoid looking at him the majority of the time you've been here.

it's not your fault you can't look into his eyes for longer than a second. he's the one who's always observing you with that cold, calculating stare. you've been on the end of judgmental looks and not so quiet whispers for years now and have learned to not let them bother you—well you thought you mastered the art of simply ignoring those kinds of people. until eren.

you didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago. the introduction for you two consisted of a simple bumping into each other in the crowded hallways of school, it ended with him bitterly muttering something about idiot cheerleaders as he stumbled away. not even sparing you a second glance. after that, you saw him often and he made his dislike for you evidently clear.

which makes no sense. how can someone not like you?

it's usually jealous girls giving you the stink eye and making up the ridiculous rumors. they're the ones who don't want to associate themselves with you. not nerdy nobodies who can't walk without stumbling over their own two feet. no, people like him usually worship the ground you walk on. or at least drool a little.

seriously you've tried everything to get rid of that menacing stare and frigid tone he always greets you with. it's like he's immune. "jesus y/n, how dumb are you?"

and they definitely don't talk to you like that. you know you're not the brightest, which is why your teacher got this jerk of a nerd to tutor you right before exam week but is that really an excuse for him to treat you like this? biting the inside of your cheek, you nudge a corner of your sweater until your left shoulder is exposed. leaning forward and batting your eyelashes which gets no response from him other than a blank stare. "i'm not dumb. i just don't get it." you pout. "can't you just tell me the answer? we've spent like thirty minutes on this question."

"thirty minutes cause you're an idiot." he mutters more to himself.

"i'm trying my best!"

"you should've learned this months ago. you would've if you didn't spend your time skipping class to hang out with your pig muscle boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend..." you go back to chewing on the pencil.

"so you just make out with any guy behind the bleachers?"

"you seem to know a lot about me." you look at him again, that stupid cold stare looking back at you through those glasses.

"who doesn't. you're y/n. the whole school knows of your...activities."

"those are just rumors." some of them are. most are true. you enjoy living life to the fullest. it's not your fault the people in your school saw a confident, attractive woman and instantly decided to put less than appealing labels on her. "and besides they're none of your business."

"whatever. just solve this, this is taking longer than our usual sessions and my mom will be home soon."

you groan, looking down at the textbooks and not understanding a single word. “please just tell me the answers.” you ask one last time, desperate.

“no.”

you huff, returning your attention to the book. “you’re going to age badly with all that scowling you do. just so you know.”

“shut up.”

"eren..." you say after five minutes which causes a frustrated sigh to leave his lips. "do you have an issue with me?" it's been four sessions of the frigid tension he always puts between you two and there's a lot more to come before graduation so you just want to get whatever problems he has with you out of the way.

it takes a few seconds before he's looking up from the textbook, pushing his glasses up as he sends you probably the most intimidating glare you've seen from him. "excuse me?" the very tone of his voice has goosebumps forming on your skin but you force yourself to stand your ground. you're not going to let some loser who's probably never even kissed someone to look down on you.

"you— you just seem to—"

"i don't have an issue with you y/n." he slams the book on the table causing you to jump. "having an issue with someone like you would imply i care enough and trust me i'll never care for such a ditzy little slut who doesn't respect herself."

you've been called worse than that and usually by scorned boys you hooked up with. but they were popular gym rats, not some overconfident lanky freak. you had a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but with the cogs in your brain suddenly malfunctioning, you could only stutter out a pathetic, "i—i'm none of those things!"

"really?" he scoffs, actually getting up and walking over and as he does you think maybe it would've been a safer option to just keep your mouth shut. "wide doe eyes without nothing behind them. check." he starts. "plump lips perfect for what you do best. check." and the asshole has the nerve to slowly swipe his fingers across your bottom lip.

you should stand up, tell him to go to hell and get out of here but you're frozen. limbs not moving an inch as he continues, "empty little head. check. skimpy outfits to attract attention. check. i mean let's face the facts.."

you never would've thought the loser that always sits in the back of the class with his nose buried deep in a book would speak like this to you. it's insulting. freaking degrading. he knows nothing about you and yet he has that expression on his face like he does. "if i'm such a ditzy little slut as you so nicely put then i'd be jumping at the chance to hook up with you but here we are." you seethe.

that seems to finally strike a nerve as he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. you cut him off before he can defend himself.

"is that it...you're angry i haven't made a move on you because that's what sluts do isn't it? bone everything they see? is your pride wounded that i don't see you in that way, eren?" you let out a mirthless laugh. "well news flash, pretty girls like me don't go for freaks like you."

you got up, ready to grab your things and run out all while trying to ignore the nerves inside of you. he just stands there, rigid and glaring. "really?" he asks once your books are back in your bag.

"y—yes. now if you'll excuse me—" your wrist is being grabbed before you can take another step and for a second both of you are stunned, you mostly frozen in your spot because this creep has the audacity to touch you after everything he just said. you don't know what his excuse is but he only stands there like a shocked puppy before pushing you on the desk.

a gasp escapes your lips at being manhandled by him  of all people, what the fuck is he doing? you're on your stomach, feet on the ground as the fucker puts a hand on your back, keeping you there. "w-what are you doing?" you pant out, bewildered at everything that just happened.

"i..." he trails off, not saying anything before manhandling you again. only this time it's for you to lay on your back and fuck, you could fight back. he's surprisingly strong for such a lanky freak but you're a cheerleader who does complex moves out on the field almost every day. you could kick him off, slam that big textbook in his face to the point his nose breaks and run out, making sure to report him.

but you don't. it's not that you can't. for some reason, you just don't want to. maybe it's curiosity, to see what exactly he plans on doing. to see if a loser like him actually has the balls to do anything but back away and apologize profusely.

"you're not fighting back." he simply says, sounding a bit confused as he comes to lean over your body. his hands on either side of your head as he stares down, those stupid piercing eyes staring down at you. "why?"

"shouldn't i be the one asking the questions here? like why the fuck you have me on this desk?"

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back and grabbing your thighs causing you to squeal in surprise. he spreads them, raising the dress you’re wearing until it's pooling at your stomach before you can even blink.

shit. what's wrong with him?

what's wrong with you? you should be kicking at him, you could easily shove him off. you could do it in a blink of an eye so why the hell aren't you.

where there's supposed to be fear...there's only anticipation. "you really are a slut." he laughs cruelly, pulling your panties down until they're completely off. where he throws them, you don't know. probably in some corner to hide so you forget about them, who knows what a pervert like him would do with it?

"you barely know me and yet...look at this." you shudder as his finger circles your clit before swiping across your cunt, bringing his hand up to show you your slick as if for emphasis.

"shut up." you grit through your teeth. "you're—" you don't have time to finish your insult before he's kneeling down, tongue immediately latching onto your clit.

your nails instantly scrape against the desk, shuddering as he begins to suckle on your clit. his tongue delves into you, fingers digging into your thighs on purpose as if the freak wants to hurt you. you can play that game too if he wants, fingers going to grab at the strands of his dark hair, pulling as you ground your hips against his annoyingly experienced tongue.

usually, your sexual partners don't willingly choose to eat you out but here is he. practically eager to get to business. he acted so high and mighty and still has the gall to continue doing so yet he's the one on his knees right now. freaking nerds are so easy. even overly judgmental ones with sharp gazes.

he’s basically lapping at you, moving from sucking your clit to eagerly drinking up your juices. never coming up for air as if he was made to simply do this. "f—fuck." you didn't want to make any noises, any implications that what he's doing is actually making you feel good but dammit it's hard when a tongue is diving deep into your most sensitive parts.

a particular bite has you instantly bringing your legs together but he quickly grabs them, forcing them apart to shove his face in between your thighs again. your breath catches in your throat as he licks up your dripping pussy. he doesn’t relent even once and the moans won’t stop escaping your lips, “sl—slow down. gonna…dammit.”

his tongue licks…freaking everywhere. the obscene noises causing you to hang your head back, he’s licking and sucking everything up as if it’s his favorite meal.

and it’s embarrassing. how fast you come. but how can not you? you mercilessly pull at his hair and shamelessly moan when you do. somehow you're the sweating and panting one as he stands up. "so that's what all the hype is about?" he tsk, seemingly bored.

it takes a few seconds for you to find the breath to say “don't act like you didn't enjoy that, with the way you were eagerly—”

"shut up." he takes his glasses off, putting them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

"you're disgusting, you know? the nerve you have—"

"i spent the last two hours teaching you simple biology and somehow you couldn't do one question by yourself, if i'm testy that's all on you.

"it's not my fault." it comes out as a whine and you hate it, you were supposed to be insulting him. at least have some pride when you're about to be fucked by the guy who looks at you like you're nothing but a dirty piece of gum.

"shut up, for crying out loud. shut up." his voice is raspy as he unbuckles the belt to his revolting khakis.

you can't help as your eyes widen once his cock is in view. for such a nerd, he's actually packing. one hand holds your hips as the other guides his dick towards your leaking area and slight panic starts to take over. "a-aren't you gonna prep?" as orgasmic as that oral job was, you doubt just that will be enough to prepare you for that.

he grins, probably the first smile you've ever seen on his annoyingly handsome face. "don't worry, i'm sure a slut like you has a loose enough cunt."

"you little shit! that's—" your words get caught in your throat, back arching as he moves his hips forward, piercing inside of you. "fuck."

a broken sound leaves your lips as he continues to push his length in. it doesn't hurt like you expected it to but there's still a strong ache that you know will leave you limping tomorrow morning. it burns, burns so good you have to squeeze your eyes shut. you need something to hold onto as he starts to move, anything to give you some sort of balance but the flat surface underneath you offers no help. "ngh...eren..." you're not sure what you want to say but he doesn't give you time to think of something before he sets a rhythm.

it's surprisingly slow at first, like he wants you to feel every vein on his cock and you do. your walls desperately clench around him as you bite on your bottom lip, the room suddenly feeling too hot as his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. into that stupid gaze he won't stop staring at you with. his mouth is slightly open but no sound comes out. he's perfectly collected and you hate it. people like him should be cumming the second you touch them but he's...it's annoying.

his pace starts to speed up—he doesn't even give it another second before he's ramming inside of you. holding your hips with both hands as he sets a brutal pace that has you moving up and down the desk. "p-pretty decent for a nerd—ah!"

still, he stays silent. ugh, what's wrong with him? you bring your arm up to your mouth, muffling the moans spilling out of your lips in spite but his hands are immediately pulling them off. he chuckles, coming close enough that his breath fans against your face and a lewd moan comes out of you as he hits an even deeper spot. "don't do that, we all know this is what you want. to be fucked hard and fast to the point you're nothing but a mindless whore whose only purpose is to scream in pleasure."

you don't respond, biting down hard on your lips. his thrusts became more aggressive as he scoffs, "fine." his hand finds its way to your throat, squeezing slightly.

you suck in a shuddering breath just as his hold tightens, bordering on dangerous but for some reason the lack of air only makes your pussy throb, clenching tight around him. why does it feel good? why does everything he's doing to you only make you want more? his thrusts have now gotten erratic, almost forcing your body off the desk but the hold on your hips and throat keep you right where you are. you want to let out the moan clawing out from inside your throat but his grip stays, merciless as he pounds into you.

you don't know how much of this you can take, everything feels too hot. it's too much. "fuck look at you, didn't think you could look even more dumb." he pants, staring down. he finally removes his hand from your throat and you cry out the second he does.

"eren, please i'm—fuck...too much, it's too much." you gasp even though a sick part of you knows you could do this all night.

but right now...with the way his voice is dripping with cockiness— you hate it, hate the way he looks at you and talks to you. it's infuriating and too much. a tsk comes out of his mouth, "who knew you had a limit?" he rolls his eyes and in the next second, he's spilling inside of you. spilling and spilling until some drip on the floor.

like he's been holding himself back all this time.

fuck. he could've at least let you release a second time. you didn't think the asshole would be finishing right after you said that. you're panting, eyes staring at the white ceiling as he pulls out. he zips up his stupid ugly looking khakis as he steps back. "can you get off my desk now?"

the nerve of him...ugh. you slowly sit up, dress sticking to your skin due to the sweat and you have to refrain from asking to use his shower before leaving.

he gets you your bag and you slowly take it, throat aching and dry. there'll definitely be bruises around your throat and hips tomorrow and you're sure he's secretly delighted at that fact. "uh...." you trail off.

this is usually the part where they ask for your number, pleading for a second night with that desperate look in their eyes but he doesn't even send you another glance as he gathers up the papers on the desk, putting them into a binder. "make sure to study before sleeping tonight...if your body can handle that." his lips slightly curve up at that last part but he's not bragging, no just mocking you.

"o...okay." you lick your dry lips, suddenly needing a mint. "uh...bye?" you stand up too fast, cursing at yourself for it but his arm is around your hips before you can fall.

you bite the inside of your cheek, the proximity too close even though he was just inside of you a minute ago. he sighs, "do you need a ride home?" he asks grudgingly.

and you should say no. you don't need to be in an enclosed space with this asswipe for another second. just say no and walk into class the next day, demanding for another tutor. and then you'll never have to talk to him ever again.

but instead a weak nod comes out.

[ohhgingersnaps]

for the character bingo: jonathan harker / wheatley / sebastian stardewvalley :)

Thanks for asking!! Gonna do these in order of Strength of Feeling

(From the Character Bingo post here: x)

Sebastian Stardewvalley, my beloved blorbo emo boy, current hyperfixation, love of my life, etc. He is confident in who he is and what he wants! He is an introvert who has the self-awareness to know when he needs space and enforce boundaries politely! He's complicated and independent and loves frogs and has cool hair and likes horror films and runs a fun DND campaign for his friends! He tries to be edgy and cool but really he's just a big soft nerd and I love that about him. I always accidentally romance him even when I don't set out to do it, just because I really enjoy talking to him. Whenever I hear Iris (Goo Goo Dolls) on the radio I turn it up in his honor. Also Colors (Halsey). Actually I have an entire dedicated playlist lol

Admittedly I've been on a big SDV kick lately, mostly because I've been working on this novel-length superpowers AU (which ofc features him as one of the protags), so a lot of what I like about him is definitely shaped by my own version of him viewed through that lens, but he was my first-ever SDV spouse and I'm pretty sure he's always going to secretly be my favorite

Side note: I came very close to also checking "everyone but me is wrong about them <3" because although about 90% of the fandom takes on him are good, every time I see a bad one (specifically ones that malign/mischaracterize him for being an introvert who's good at enforcing boundaries, or bad takes about how he relates to his family) it does make me angry enough to block on sight. I have a lot of strong feelings about their family dynamic actually, because it reminds me of a less healthy version of my own?? not to project my own life onto this but tl;dr nobody is really at fault and it's all mismatched expectations and badly-paired neuroses, but this is a story for another day

Wheatley! Specifically Blue Sky Wheatley is just. Chef's kiss amazing, Blue Sky Wheatley still has one of the best character arcs I have ever seen in my life. I have marked "wow! they are a horrible person" because he is, but like, in the same way all of us are, you know? It's about the redemption arc. The important bit is that he actively chooses to be better. Obviously he also works better as part of a dynamic with Chell, that's part of the point, right? He is still a blorbo but he's like, a dormant blorbo I haven't thought about in a minute. I'm sure I'll pull him off the shelf again to put him in the main rotation whenever I reread Blue Sky for the dozenth time, though.

Okay so, Dracula Daily is really my first ever exposure to Dracula (and therefore Jonathan Harker)? Like, everything I know about Dracula is via cultural osmosis, so I don't know a ton about him yet, besides what I know from fandom osmosis and the entries we've had so far. I do think it's very sweet how much he cares about Mina, and that earns him several bonus points. I also think his mentality of, "This is my first big job after passing my exams, I better get a good grade in this customer interaction," is absolutely relatable, which I enjoy. He's just a little lawyer man trying his best, and I really hope he makes it through his ordeals in one piece. (It's not looking like he will, but, you know, I can hope, right?)

[n7inky-fanfics]

Lost

CW: Injury, blood, alcohol

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The crew of the Normandy loves Shepard. She is different than any other Commander in the Alliance. She took the time to deeply know every member of her crew. While her name may inspire equal admiration and fear in others, it inspires warmth and loyalty in her crew. Everyone trusts her with their lives, and even on her worst days they never fear her.

That being said, the ship is now uncomfortably quiet and tense. For the first time ever, the crew is walking on eggshells around Shepard. Her own shell has cracked, and to avoid vulnerability she is lashing out at pretty much anyone in her path.

When the shore party returned from Thessia, Shepard maintained silence and a cold demeanour until she had finished her call with the Asari Ambassador. She managed to use the last bit of her usual grace to comfort Liara. Then, she broke. She snapped at Joker and the two of them had it out on the bridge. The argument ended with both parties shaken, but it was clear that they would forgive each other once they had calmed down. The crew had never seen Shepard like this, and it worried them.

It's the end of the main dinner shift, and no one has seen Shepard for hours. James, Garrus, and Kaidan have done their best to reassure the crew. Now, Kaidan is making his way to Shepard's cabin with a dinner plate. He doesn't think she'll eat it, but he has to try. EDI informs him that Shepard's door is currently set to lock out everyone, including him. When he arrives outside the door, he knocks gently. "Hazel, it's me. Please let me in. I just want to help." The red glow of the locked door turns yellow and then green as it is unlocked. It slides open to reveal Shepard's room.

Broken glass and puddles of alcohol cover the floor. The desk chair is upside down in the middle of the floor. A large, bloody dent mars the wall. Shepard sits in the floor, on the right side of her bed, with her head hung low. She's wearing her Alliance t-shirt and a small pair of shorts. Her short, pink hair is a ruffled mess. Her right hand is bloodied and bruised. Pieces of glass from the alcohol bottles stick out of her knees and shins. Despite the strong presence of alcohol, she seems sober. She must have destroyed every bottle she had without drinking a drop.

Kaidan stands in the entrance. "Hazel, you're injured. We should really get you to the med-bay."

"No." Her voice is steady and cold.

"Can I at least get a kit and start getting that hand cleaned up?"

"No. Leave it."

Kaidan sighs deeply. "Fine, but I'm coming further in." She says nothing as he makes his way to the couch, careful to avoid the broken glass. He sits on the couch, hoping she might get off the floor and sit with him. Instead, she remains still. "Shepard, we're worried about you."

"Fuck..." she whispers.

"Hey, it's not your fault. It's Cerberus. You know that."

"Like hell it's not my fault!" She looks up at him, her eyes puffy, red, and furious. Dark energy begins to glow around her. "I should have anticipated this. Fucking Cerberus has their nose in everything. Of course they'd be there, and of course they'd try to use me to lead them to what they wanted. I was a fool and Thessia was lost for nothing! Now, everyone is screwed and we're all going to die because I couldn't get the damn job done!" Her biotics glow brighter, and the field around her swells.

"It's not over yet, Shepard. We'll find them, we'll get the VI back, and we'll end this for good." Kaidan says gently.

"Don't you get it, Kaidan? I failed! The whole galaxy is relying on me to save their asses again, and I failed! I can't do this! I can't save them!" Her voice is raw and strained. She clenches her fists and screams "Fuck!" A wave of dark energy shoots out from her in all directions. Kaidan throws up a barrier, protecting himself from the force of the blast and the bits of glass that flow with it. He can't help but be a little grateful that Cerberus equipped her room with reinforced glass. If they hadn't, the fish tank and model ship display would have exploded. The coffee table, which had flown towards him and bounced off his barrier, settles upside down in front of the bed. Shepard's eyes widen with shock and fear.

"I... I haven't lost control like that since... since I left the Reds... Kaidan, I'm so sorry." Her nose starts to bleed slightly, and tears begin to slide down her cheeks.

Kaidan makes his way to her and pulls her into a tight embrace, leaving just enough room to avoid brushing the glass still embedded in her legs. "It's okay, Hazel. I understand." He holds her close and gently strokes her hair. When she seems to have calmed down some, he pulls back just enough to look at her face while he wipes the tears from her cheeks. She's pale and shaking. Her nose bleed hasn't stopped. She must be exhausted. After all this and the battle on Thessia before, even the best biotic would be. When was the last time she ate?

"Hey, let's get you sitting down." He guides her to sit on the bed and retrieves the food he had brought for her from the couch. "Eat this while I get Dr. Chakwas up here to have a look at you."

"Kaidan, I don't want anyone else to see this." She looks around at the mess she made.

"It's either that or I carry you down to the med-bay. I think you'll collapse if I let you walk it yourself."

She sighs deeply. "Okay, bring her up here."

Kaidan activates the direct link to EDI from Shepard's terminal. "EDI, can you please ask Dr. Chakwas to come up here with the necessary equipment to support an exhausted biotic and remove shards of debris from a person? And please, keep this on a need-to-know basis."

EDI confirms the request and Dr. Chakwas arrives minutes later with a large medical kit in tow. If she's surprised by the state of Shepard's room, she doesn't show it. She follows the mostly cleared path that Kaidan has made with a broom from the supply closet in the bathroom. Shepard is slowly eating the dinner Kaidan brought. "I'm going to get you an IV with fluids and nutrients, then I'll take care of your legs." Dr. Chakwas says.

As Shepard recovers, Kaidan cleans the mess. By the time Dr. Chakwas has gotten all of the glass out of Hazel's leg, the glass has been safely disposed of, the alcohol has been mopped off the floor, and the furniture has been set back where it belongs. "Thank you, Karin. I'm sorry about all this."

"It's my pleasure, Commander. " Dr. Chakwas replies. She places a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, now. Remember that I'm here to help. Come see me if you need anything." She packs up her kit and leaves. The room falls silent. Shepard stares into her lap and Kaidan wonders what to say to help her.

Finally, he says "Hey, you should get some sleep." She nods, still looking at her lap. "Goodnight, Shepard." He kisses her forehead gently, then turns to leave.

"Wait..." Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"At least until I fall asleep. Please." She's still staring into her lap.

"Okay, Hazel." He says. He climbs into bed and gently guides her to lay next to him. She curls into him and he wraps his arms around her. She drifts off to sleep faster than he had expected. She must be so exhausted. He, too, falls asleep shortly after her.

In the morning, Kaidan awakes to an early alarm and an empty bed. He finds her in the war room, mulling over data for answers. He brings her a coffee before he starts his day. He's sitting in the observation deck, coffee in one hand and data pad in the other, when Dr. Chakwas comes in, locking the door behind herself.

"Kaidan, I'm glad you got me last night. How is she doing this morning?"

"She's back at work, trying to find a solution. She was up well before her alarm, I think. She's stressed, and I doubt she's okay, but she's functional. I'll keep an eye on her, try to make sure she takes care of herself."

"Yes, please do that..." Dr. Chakwas trails off and looks away from Kaidan.

"What is it, Karin?"

"Shepard has always had it rough. You and I both know this to be true. She's always hid her emotions and buried them deep. But dying... it broke her in ways I can't fix. In ways she hasn't recovered from. Then, she lost people. Good people. Hell, she lost Earth. Now she's lost Thessia as well. It's all piling up. She struggles, and I fear that she's reaching a point where all those bottled up pains will all spill out. When she does, we need to be there for her. Please, make sure you're there for her."

She doesn't say it, but Kaidan knows what she's thinking. Be there for her this time. Don't abandon her like you did on Horizon. Be there for her this time. He nods. "I've got her back, Karin."

"Good." Karin nods and takes her leave. Kaidan stares out the window and sighs deeply. This war won't be won without a great cost. He just hopes Shepard doesn't have to pay the bulk of it.

[nobodyfamousposts]

I haven't read or watched Twilight but I'm very invested in the recent salt posts so please tell me about this Seth's flaws

In my opinion, it’s not worth reading or watching. But I am biased against it because I am a cynical person who hates the series with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns.

But a brief explanation is that Seth is a side character of limited importance to the series. What little importance he has is to emphasize how “cool” the other characters are supposed to be. He is one of the werewolves introduced in the second book (New Moon) and the younger brother of the only female werewolf, Leah (whom is unfairly treated like crap for the crime of being the sole girl to be able to transform into a wolf).

Seth is a fanboy. Plain and simple. He is younger than the other members of the pack and blindly looks up to and supports Jacob (the so-called “true alpha” because bloodline says so), to the point of being fully willing to abandon his home, his family, his pack, and his duty to chase after Jacob when Jacob chooses to abandon everything in order to protect Bella, the main character and single most important person in the series despite the fact that she does nothing useful while also being directly responsible for nearly every bad thing to happen in the series.

Seth’s idolization of Jacob and the other guys is his defining character trait in that he will do anything to be recognized by them (particularly Jacob) and won’t argue with them. Even when they’re being jerks in general or actively contemplating the death of his sister specifically for being annoying and in their words, a “bitter harpy” (because she’s justifiably angry about her ex fiancé leaving her for her cousin and then being forced to transform into a wolf and follow said ex’s orders).

Seth’s importance to the series comes in two ways. Once during the mostly undescribed “Newborn war” when he is praised for killing a vampire on his own off screen (which is like…one of the entire army, so okay but not really THAT great), which seems to be used less as a matter of his character and ability and more to serve as a direct contrast to the results of his sister’s attempts to do the same. Leah, being a female who isn’t Bella, is noted to fail when trying to take on a vampire on her own off screen only for Jacob to somehow have to “save” her from it and get injured in the process, making everyone feel bad for Jacob and blame Leah for trying to handle something on her own or in any way “prove herself”. (It should be noted that the rest of the pack has never actually tried to make her welcome in the group and even indicated they kind of want her dead, btw, which doesn’t exactly make for a team you can trust to have your back in a battle but surely would have NOTHING to do with her choice to try and handle things on her own……really.) This serves the purpose of having Jacob be injured in order for Bella to have an emotional visit with him while he’s recovering without her being the one “technically responsible” for his injury so she can feel guilty without actually appearing guilty (even though the entire war only happened because of her in the first place).

The other and more notable point of Seth’s importance in the series is when Jacob yet again abandons everyone he’s supposed to care about because the wolves are planning to attack the vampires because the vampires are going to break the treaty with the wolves and turn Bella into one of them (at HER insistence, despite knowing full well there is a treaty and that the vampires turning her would be breaking that treaty). Jacob actively abandons his people to try and protect the people he still very much hates just because Bella will be at risk.

Seth is notable for being the first to leave the wolf pack to join Jacob during this time. Because he’s Jacob’s fanboy. And he gives no real thought or concern to the fact that he is similarly abandoning his home, his family, his friends, and everyone he’s ever known to follow Jacob in trying to defend what are essentially strangers who are directly responsible for the current conflict.

Bear in mind that Jacob’s initial abandoning of his people to protect the female protagonist who has made it clear by this point she isn’t interested in him is shown to be the “right thing to do”, and that similarly, Seth’s trailing after him like a puppy is also the “right thing to do”.

Seth’s leaving after Jacob results in Leah leaving the pack to join them because Seth is her younger brother and she wants to protect him. Jacob wanted to be a lone wolf in the first place and tries to use Leah as an excuse to not have Seth join him. Seth then proceeds to turn on Leah at this point and tell her “You ruin everything!” in a line that comes off as so wholly ignorant, insensitive, and pretentious that I almost mistook him for one of the main characters.

This is bearing in mind that Seth is Leah’s younger brother. He KNOWS what she has been through. He also knows damn well that what has happened to Leah was not her fault (losing her now ex fiancé, her father’s death, turning into a wolf). And whether he meant to or not, he essentially blamed her for everything that has happened to her.

Seth actually appears to be acting from this incredibly childish frame of mind that turning into a wolf and being forced to fight and kill to protect people is a super cool thing that only the “elite” get to do instead of a DUTY. He’s stoked that he’s finally allowed into the “special kids club” except that he’s stuck sharing it with his sister who doesn’t want to be there and whose only priority is keeping him alive. And with this being his mind set, he proceeds to whine and blame her for keeping him from getting to go off and do the cool and incredibly dangerous thing he wants to do just because Jacob is doing it.

AND AT NO POINT DOES HE APOLOGIZE.

AT NO POINT DOES HE EVER GROW UP.

[pens-swords-stuff]

idk if you're still doing the ask thing but uhhh what's it like being one of the best writeblrs in town? what's your primary source of inspiration? are there any old wips that you gave up ages ago but are tempted to go back and change/finish? are there any wips that you haven't told anyone about yet but are dying to share? (pls share if you want!) Finally, why do you like writing so much? (you don't have to answer all the questions i just really like asking people these questions bc they're fun)

Thank you so much for all of the questions! I really enjoyed answering them :)

It’s a bit long so I’m putting it all under a cut!

What's it like being one of the best writeblrs in town?

Oh my gosh, I really don’t think I’m anywhere near being one of the best writeblrs in town, but I’m super flattered that you think I am! 

Overall, I love being a writeblr, and I love the little community of friends, mutuals, and followers that I have. I definitely wouldn’t still be around if I didn’t enjoy the community so much! I love being able to support people, and sometimes sharing what little I have. The amount of passion, creativity and kindness here is phenomenal, and I’m really honored to be a part of it!

It’s pretty normal, honestly. I’m definitely not one of the super popular writeblrs that gets a whole lot of engagement (though I am really thankful for every bit of engagement I get 💙💙) so I think that I have a lot less going on than most people might think. That’s mostly my own fault though I think, because I haven’t shared a whole lot of my writing or projects. I reblog stuff, post stuff sometimes, I try to reblog and leave comments on people’s work when I’m feeling up to it, and occasionally I’m delighted by a very kind comment.

It’s not all roses and sparkles though, a lot of really hard work went into getting where I am. Being a bigger blog with a certain reputation also brings with it a lot of problems and frustrations that I usually don’t talk about because I think it’s pretty tacky to rant about publicly on my blog. 

But it’s worth it, you know? The positives definitely outweigh the negatives, and I met so many amazing people here which is the best gift. I just don’t think that my writeblr experience is that different from most other people haha!

What's your primary source of inspiration?

My writing partner is a really big one. She’s super creative and I absolutely adore writing with her. She comes up with the best ideas, and talking about our ideas and projects and characters with her is always a surefire way for me to get excited and inspired about something, even if I’m in a slump!

TV shows, movies, books, video games that I’m into also sometimes ignite a spark! When I’m creatively drained or suffering writer’s block, I always try to just disconnect from writing for a bit and immerse myself in other media until something clicks.

Otherwise, aesthetics are one of the primary ways I get into an idea or a concept so that’s pretty important as well!

Are there any old wips that you gave up ages ago but are tempted to go back and change/finish?

It’s been a really long time since I’ve written for any of the WIPs that I’ve announced on tumblr. For Queen and Country, Morsmordre, Post-Script, Wanderlust... Between me and my partners feeling burnt out, or stuck, or just otherwise busy with other things, they’ve all fallen to the wayside a bit and that makes me a bit sad.

I don’t think any of us have given up on them, but right now they’re not active and I really wish that they were.

Are there any wips that you haven't told anyone about yet but are dying to share?

YES!!! Two of them, in fact.

One of them is a fanfiction that will be accessible to people who aren’t part of the fandom and have no knowledge about it — it will have no spoilers for the fandom, and all of the fandom-specific worldbuilding and such will be explainable. But it’s an incredibly original idea; there’s no fic anything like it on AO3, fanfiction.net or wattpad, and I’m a bit paranoid that once I start talking about it, people might take the idea and run with it? Which you know, might not happen and I know I’m being overly cautious. But I’ve demanded a gag order until we’re ready to post the actual story. It’s so good and I can’t wait to tell people but I want to keep it a secret until it’s ready and faljdskhcnlkdsjcnlakdjn

The other one is my Nano project!!! I’m really close to being able to share it!!!!! So close, yet so far... Hoping to be able to announce within the next week or so.

Finally, why do you like writing so much?

I’ve been writing for my entire life basically, ever since I was 5 years old. It’s just been my choice of a creative outlet, I suppose, and I never really questioned it.

My first serious attempt at writing was play-by-post roleplaying, and I adored that because it allowed me to flesh out characters and character relationships with other people. That’s still a massive part of the appeal because I write with partners. Being able to collaborate on an idea, and endlessly talk about character relationships, dynamics, and plotting is definitely among the most rewarding experiences I’ve gotten with writing.

Like I said before, writing it my creative outlet. I’m a really creative person, but writing is really one of the only ways that I can express it because I’m not artistic whatsoever, and I don’t have a whole lot of other skills. Writing is something I can do though, and I often feel like I’m going to explode if I go too long without creating something. And it’s so immensely satisfying to be able to look at something I wrote or created and be like “Wow, I did really good.” My progress isn’t easily trackable, but I am able to look at my writing and see that I’ve improved, which is really motivating.

But when it comes to the question, why do I like it so much... I’m honestly not sure! Writing has always just been one of my things, and I’ve never actually delved too deeply into the why. It’s an interesting question though, and hopefully I’ll find an answer someday!

[iforcedabot-blog]

I Forced a Bot To Watch Every TNG and DS9 Episode and Write One of Its Own

You may have seen “I forced a bot to watch” posts where someone claims to have “forced a bot” to read or watch hours of video and written it’s own script. Those weren’t real but in recent history it has become possible to do it for real in a pretty convincing way with OpenAI’s GPT-2 system. This is an unbroken, unedited sample of GPT-2 ‘fine-tuned’ on all the TNG and DS9 scripts. Note that television scripts have have distinct formatting and style and all of that is copied perfectly by the bot. It even *almost* gets understands page numbers (in the first example – 28, 28, 28A).

28   EXT. PLAZA/SURFACE - DAY (OPTICAL)    Data and Worf as before.                    DATA                (puzzled)            You left him there? He left him            there?                    WORF            Yes. He had been there for            hours... then decided that I            was going to kill him.    Data frowns, he can't figure out how to phrase what    he did...                    DATA            I do not understand.                    WORF            You knew?                    DATA            I was afraid.    They exchange a look... Data thinking quickly, is    back to the source...                    DATA                (continuing)            I could have programmed some            medical bank monitors to monitor you            for a pulse response when you            could enter Klingon memory.                    WORF            We would have --        STAR TREK: "The House... " - REV. 08/10/94 - ACT FOUR       45. 28   CONTINUED:                    DATA            But I was afraid that it would            disrupt my memory.                    PICARD            I'll tell you what I have to do.    They look at him and then Picard EXITS. Data sits in    command.                                           CUT TO: 28A  INT. WORF'S QUARTERS    The room is DARK and distant. Worf is struggling to    regain his senses as Picard ENTERS.                    WORF            Captain... everything I saw is            gone... everything.    Worf regards him for a moment... then he starts to fight    it off... he stops in surprise... he doesn't know how    all this is going to impact his relationship with    him... he's uncertain what to do... he glances at the    wall panel and frowns, surprised at the way he sees    Worf... he glances around the room and tries to    find a way to fight it off-kilter... it's pretty    night... Worf hits the wall panel and it OFF.                    WORF            I was... heading somewhere.                    PICARD            Worf... what's the matter?    Worf decides to break for a moment... he EXITS.

That was one the first scenes I generated that impressed me, though it cheats a bit with by being mysterious enough that it’s hard to rate how coherent it is. But you could almost see as one of the more moody and experimental character-focused episodes in Season 7 TNG. Earlier networks could copy the formatting of a TV script but they totally fell apart when you tried to actually understand the content. Even which characters were present in a scene did not stay consistent from line to line. GPT-2 handles this amazingly keeping track of not just characters but subject of conversation in a scene.

Here are some more samples chosen mostly for the humor:

                  DAX            I think we're lucky this was            just a bad batch of            equipment.                    KIRA            I'm glad you think that.                    DAX            I'm glad we're lucky.                    KIRA            Okay.  I'm going to let you use            the Bajoran storage bin to backup            your data on this trip.    And with that, Kira heads off down the Corridor.  We    HOLD on a thoughtful Dax. 19   INT. OPS    Kira and Dax EXIT the turbolift, followed by Sisko, who    goes to the Transporter Room in frustration.             DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE            12. 19   CONTINUED:                    KIRA            It's not working.                    DAX            I'm having trouble retuning the            transceiver.  The adaptors            won't work.                    KIRA            Maybe they should replace us by            rentals.                    DAX            With what?                    KIRA            With your arms.                    DAX            With your hands.                    KIRA            Your arms.                    DAX            You're lifting your arms.                    KIRA            My arms.                    DAX                (the hurtiest)            Your arms.  They're my hands.    Kira takes a beat, looks down at her arms for a moment.                    KIRA            They're your hands.                (a beat)            You know what I see when I get            this...                    DAX                (laughing and crying)            Kira, you never told anyone about            your arms.             DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE            13. 19   CONTINUED: (2)                    KIRA            When you get to the wormhole, you            should see them grow into shape-            shifters.  And you'd be right...            because their arms are like that...            closer than you can get.  They            grip off your arm.  Bad dreams.                    DAX            I thought you weren't going to talk            about me.                    KIRA            I told myself I was not.  But when            the time comes... I want to figure            out what we're doing and what we            are.  I always figure it out.    Dax looks at her own hands.  Kira's too fast for her    good measure.                    KIRA            I'm holding all the cards.  I'm            playing them all.  I'm a prisoner            in here.  I can't be happier.                    DAX            You seem like you've got a lot.                    KIRA            You have me all.    Kira takes one last look at her hands.  Kira can't help    her enthusiasm.  Her hand.  Kira takes another step toward the    desk.                    KIRA            You're not going to hurt me.                    DAX            You're not.  And that's a            good thing.

This is from a later batch where I stripped out some of the very repetitive content in the scripts before training — mostly headers and footers that repeat the exact same information every page. Another sample that was weirdly hands and arms themed:

42   INT. ENGINEERING    Geordi and Data at their respective consoles.                    GEORDI            We're ready when you are, Data.                    DATA            I will prepare enough data for your            desire, Commander.                    GEORDI            Good. Data, what was the vessel            in which the shuttle was            launched?                    DATA            The vessel was slightly more            complex than the starship I            estimate, sir. It chose a            specific set of coordinates to            target the specific            nodes on the Enterprise-D.                    GEORDI            And it didn't work. That's            your fault, Data.                    DATA            I fault is very fault, sir.            I should have realized that.                    GEORDI            If you had, the Enterprise-C            could have taken out a few more            nodes...                    DATA            I do not believe we could have             survived the attempt on the            shuttle, sir.       STAR TREK: "The Loss" - REV. 10/10/90 - ACT FOUR       51. 42   CONTINUED:                    GEORDI            I know Data, it would have been            difficult for you to break into            hands and legs and grab a few            nodes... I've never run into a            shuttle in my life that didn't            get that lucky.    Geordi looks down at his hands and arms, frowning.                    GEORDI            What are you so angry about?                    DATA            My heart... and possibly my entire            psychology.                    GEORDI            That's not good.                    DATA            I am angry that Starfleet has            let you down, Commander.                    GEORDI            I know... but I was relieved            that no one tried to destroy            my shuttle.

INT. DATA'S QUARTERS    Data, still in his Starfleet uniform, is sitting at a desk    working at the computer. The door CHIMES.                    DATA            Enter.    The door OPENS and Geordi ENTERS.                    GEORDI            Data, what are you doing here?                    DATA                (stands)            This is my quarters.    He looks at the desk for a beat, then EXITS.                    DATA                (continuing)            You are here to examine my            computer.                    GEORDI            Computer, is there anything I can            do about your...            computer?                    DATA            Computer, are you aware of what I            have just said?                    GEORDI                (nods)            In case you're wondering... I've            told you something before...                    DATA            I have never spoken to my computer            before.                    GEORDI            That can't possibly be the case...    Data shakes his head.                    DATA            I have been trying, but I            have been unable.                    GEORDI            Why?                    DATA            I have been trying for over            three, four nights.                    GEORDI            It must be a pretty long night.                    DATA            As long as it is not.                    GEORDI            And what does it feel like?                    DATA            I have been experiencing a            sustained, transient, and            unsteady increase in the            emotional neurotransmitter-like            activity in my cerebral cortex.            The same as if I were completely            offered a cup of tea, or a            coffee, or an air horn.                    GEORDI            That sounds like someone who            has been through a lot.    Data nods.

I experimented with mixing other TV show scripts, the complete set of Frasier in this case. GPT-2 learns very quickly never to mix characters and language from the shows — too well, I wish it would mix them! But I swear the samples trained with some Frasier feel more like a sitcom:

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL)

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL)    Riker's face...                    RIKER            Captain, I am detecting a Class-M            planet with high radiation            unaffected by the sun.                    PICARD            Which planet did you detect?                    RIKER            Class-M.                (beat)            I'm sure it looked like a Class-            M planet...                (beat)            What is it?                    PICARD            A small planet with low surface            radiation.                    RIKER                (laughs)            Not class-M.

Here’s another one that feels more like a sitcom, in particular, the repeated dialog lines are something I see a lot in the post-Frasier samples.

======== SAMPLE 15 ========                    KIRA                (to Dax, explaining)            Dax, we were just talking about you.              I realize you're upset about            me, but I've always looked            good in a tuxedo.                    DAX            I don't look good in a tuxedo.              I've always looked good in a            clutch, Benjamin.  And I'm glad to            say, I haven't seen you since I left            the homeworld.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I know you're upset, but I've            always looked good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX            And I'm glad to see you've never worn            it anymore.                    KIRA            I've never looked good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX            Well, I've seen you look good in            it all... when you're wearing            anyone else's tux.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I never look good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX                (smiles)            I'm glad you said you were going to            be happy at the Bajoran wedding.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I'm glad you said that.    Dax smiles and they walk off.                    DAX                (re: the wedding)            I suppose I'll have to mention it            to someone.                    KIRA            I'm not planning to.                    DAX            Who's next?                    KIRA            My husband.                (a beat)            I guess he'll be staying with us            this year.                    DAX            He'll probably be staying with us            this year.                    KIRA            I know.  I just got here last            night.                    DAX            I mean it's just a question of...            who?                    KIRA                (beat)            I'm still not sure.  I've got a            surprise planned for the next few            weeks.  Besides, it sounds like            somebody's going to need a place to            keep me warm.                    DAX            I'm sure they will.                    KIRA            I'm sure they will.                    DAX            Now what about you... are you sure            you don't want to stay with me for            a while?                    KIRA                (re: the wedding)            I have a job to do... I'm a            pretty gal...                    DAX                (reacts)            I hear you're married...                    KIRA            That's right.                    DAX            And what about Jake?                    KIRA            He's leaving Starfleet.                    DAX            A few weeks ago he was sent back            to the Institute.                    KIRA                (reacts)            He's gone?                    DAX            He's been living on the station            all his life...                    KIRA                (beat)   ======== SAMPLE 16 ========

This sample is as long as you can get right now the limit on the output is about 1000 words in the tiny version of GPT-2 that OpenAI let’s us play with. It would still be possible to create an entire script by taking the output from one sample and using it a ‘prompt’ to generate the next sample, over and over until you have a complete script. Since the scripts do clear structure like page and act numbers it should eventually get to ACT 5 or stick an ending on there. Maybe a project for the future.

[amoralto]

Hi, I don't know if you remember but a few months ago i sent you an ask about john's preception of paul's supposed indifference in the media in the early 70s, and i was wondering if your still planning to respond? I mean if not thats totally cool, i just would be really interested if you have even incomplete fragments that you haven't posted (cause you posted a few in the past, i think?) Anyway, i really love what youre doing with this blog, have a great day!

Oh, I remember very well, my dear long-suffering anon, and at this appallingly ponderous rate I’ll probably have a response written up to my own fathomless standards within the next two years or so. 😞😓😩😖 I’m so very sorry; I’ve said so before, but it befits me to say it again. My overall productivity where @amoralto​ is concerned has ground to a halt this past couple of weeks for colourless personal reasons of depression and malaise, so I’m feeling awful about that as well. More fragments I can provide, though - they’re mostly just Thoughts From Several Years Ago, me looking up old notes I made when I was working on this response to your ask, but I hope it provides at least a modicum of entertainment:

I don’t prescribe to the idea of attributing someone’s entire personality to a specific, singular event, but the childhood experience of finding himself in the position of effectively having to choose, symbolically, between the love (and affection, guidance, trust, loyalty, presence) of his father and his mother, would have significantly impacted his ideological makeup and ingrained within young John Lennon a predisposition to see love as a zero-sum game where going with one means abandoning the other forever, and having it both ways is an impossible lie, because you’ve never had it both ways, and in fact, you will see to it personally that you won’t have it both ways, because you’d rather fuck it up yourself than let them fuck it up for you, because they will always leave you anyway. So I’d imagine that as a young John Lennon growing up in schism, comparing your household to others’ and painfully aware of what you don’t have that they do and vice versa and all else, you’d both justify the notion and rebel violently against it. Fulfill your own prophecies. Hence the impulsive, headlong infatuations with gurus, and the incensed, guillotined fallout afterwards. Hence the inveterate need for a parental figure, alternately resenting their authority and desiring their attention and coddling.Why these systemic issues with love, family, and abandonment seemed to pronounced themselves so profoundly in relation to Paul in particular is probably for all those indefinable symbiotic reasons that have been waxed lyrical about. Just as it was a magical buoy for their partnership in its naive and romantic beginning, this indefinable and ineffable quality to their relationship was also an obscure leaden weight to their partnership in its latter-day disillusionment. It’s not so much the fact of its ambiguity itself that was an issue, but that it was conditional, and neither was consciously aware of it until, well, the conditions arose. I mean, this isn’t at all meant to be a summative Where Did Our Love Go? précis, but just in terms of their communication with each other as emotionally hedging Northern lads, their relationship, from John’s perspective, seemed to depend on an implicit awareness and understanding of each other, on the reading of each other’s minds, on recognising each other’s unspoken thoughts and desires and enacting upon them, which he eventually realised was unrealistic and unsustainable (even if he never necessarily stopped longing for it). But they couldn’t have grown as a partnership without expecting and accepting each other to grow as individuals apart from each other, and they couldn’t have gone on continuing to looking to each other and expecting to see their own reflection without depleting themselves.But, uh, rather than go into histrionic ramblings about ego and identity and projection and fear, I think what I mean is: knowing what you don’t want isn’t the same as knowing what you do, and in such immovable contention there was only going to be disappointment and despair. Not knowing what you want but expecting the other to know and give it to you, and not get it? Hurt, rage, betrayal, you never loved me if you did you would have known I was in pain you moon-eyed fucking Engelbert Humperdinck I bet you knew and you just got off on seeing me suffer.

On that note, a candid illustration of John’s Paranoid Troll Logic, circa mid-1966 to early-1967, i.e. the “I was going through murder and I knew Paul wasn’t” period:

1. You’re happy and working and I’m sad and idle.

2. How can you be happy and working when I’m sad and idle?

3. If you really cared about me being sad and idle you couldn’t possibly be happy and working.

4. Maybe I’m sad and idle because you don’t really care about me.

5. Maybe you’re happy and working because I’m sad and idle.

Or two: 

1. I’m miserable, and if we’re as close as I think we are, you should be able to tell.

2. If you’re not able to tell, it must mean we’re not as close as I thought we were, which makes me even more miserable.

3. Maybe the reason why I’m miserable is because we’re not as close as I believe we were, and I can’t tell how close you believe we are.

4. I can’t ask you about it, of course, because I shouldn’t have to, and it’s your fault anyway, you should be the one asking me first, it’s not like you’re the one who’s miserable.

 5. … Maybe you’re making me miserable. On purpose.

Or three:

John: Sometimes I don’t even want to be in this fucking band anymore. I can’t stand being Beatle John, it’s going to suffocate me, but in the situation we’re in I don’t even know who else I can be. We’re in this together, Paul. You understand. We need to break away from all this.

Paul: Hey, I’ve got an idea! Let’s make a record where we all pretend we’re in a made-up band! Then we won’t have to be in this band, not really, because we’ll be other people playing other people’s music! It’ll be liberating!

John: … Remember when we just canceled all our engagements and went to Paris?

Paul: Sure I do. You know what, you should come out to London with me some time, it’s an amazing scene! All the music and plays and films and happenings… John: Hey, why spoil it when you’re already having so much fun without me around? What’s so good about all that, anyway? Pretentious tossers, the whole lot of them. Not that I care. Paul: They’re not so bad. Have you written any new songs? John: I haven’t written anything in weeks. Bothered.Paul: Well, bother yourself, then! And get something done by Friday. We have an album to make, you know. I’ve already written about four new songs - nothing much, just some melodies I whipped up in between this and that, but we can work with them.

John: You’ve just come here to gloat, haven’t you.Paul: Are you having trouble writing? I can help you out! What are partners for? Not today, though, today I’ve got a gallery to set up and two articles for the International Times to write and then dinner with Groovy Bob and a lot of artsy mingling to do with my new queer friends you’re so intimidated by for some reason. Want to come along? John: No, because I’m in pain and you don’t care and I hate you for not loving me enough. Run along, I’ve got my own lysergic work to get to. This ego of mine’s not going to destroy itself, you know. Paul: Alright, alright, I’ll leave you to it. See you on Friday!John: … Please don’t leave me.

And some waffle on Paul’s manner of Dealing With Things By Not Acknowledging Them (which, when aligned with John’s Desperate Need For Verbal And Explicit Acknowledgment, would hurtle them both towards a terrible ending):

As an affect of his stubbornly persistent optimism, to put it glibly, one could see how Paul’s need and inclination to focus on the enactive and positive side of things would also preclude an avoidance of anything he thinks he can’t achieve, help, or deal with, because direct confrontation of the problem would entail the risk of him losing control in that situation, which would render him vulnerable, or worse, being seen to be vulnerable. The avoidance thus manifests as both a defense and a coping mechanism for uncomfortable situations or unsavoury trains of thought - remember, this is someone who isn’t inclined toward navel-gazing, who doesn’t at all like to examine his own thoughts or emotions,  because it would hang him up. He has to deal with them in some way, though, so what can he do? Diffuse (project onto someone else), deflect (be hostile and passive-aggressive), or dive behind a piano, essentially. So if Paul’s way of handling things (during the Beatles years at least) was to avoid the Negative, redirect attentions and efforts to something Positive and hopefully in the process overwhelm the Negative entirely by all that is Positive, then you can see how the avoidance played out in, say, the case of Brian’s death (Let’s all travel far far away from this smog both figuratively and literally and make a new film about us going on a mad bus trip and make a new album to go along with it and be together all the time as a band again because we can totally manage ourselves and this will prove it and everything will be fine!), or the latter-day disintegration of the band (Let’s plough through the sessions because things have to get good before they get better and it’ll be a good album because we’re us and at the end of it we’ll all be proud of ourselves because it’ll prove we can still do it and maybe just maybe we’ll stay together and make more good albums and everything will be fine!). He couldn’t ignore the plaguing tensions at hand, and knew he couldn’t address it directly without inviting confrontation or contributing to the existing tensions, but he knew what he could do, practically - make music, and involve others with making music. As long he was actively doing something, then he was actively moving himself and everyone elseforward, and if they kept moving forward for long enough the problem would recede into the distance until it ceased to be a problem entirely. And so he did, until they were far along enough to move onto the next phase, or until they couldn’t possibly be moved anymore.