#i really want to write the rest of this

[sangijazz]

Love Megabytes - a Lovebug AU Stanley x shadow!Narrator fanfic

Stanley swears he saw something crawl its way into the parable.

The Narrator says there is nothing to worry about. It is just a harmless virus.

---

note

Narrator uses it/its in this one folks

There is abuse of zalgo in this

slight tw: obsessive behavior, behavior altering virus,

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Chapter 1

"This is a story of a man named Stan- Stanley! What do you think you are doing?!" the Narrator asked infuriated, the avatar normally waits for it to finish the introduction before causing chaos.

The man in question was crouched under his desk, seeming very interested in something there.

Saw something. signed Stanley briefly before extending his arm to search further.

The Narrator frowned to itself - it didn't make sense, nothing was supposed to happen now. It absent-mindedly looked at the model of the room from all angles trying to find what had distracted its creation so much. Since Stanley didn't know what he was searching for neither did the dark being. 

"Nonsense, Stanley!" the shadow crossed its non-physical arms, projecting itself below the man, replacing his shadow. "Nothing has changed from last run. Now, chop chop, we have a story to get to." But it was ignored, there was nothing it hated more than being ignored. The Narrator mumbled to itself, something something stubbornness, narrative integrity, petulant.

The stretched fingers felt the wall carefully, Stanley had his brows knit together and the tip of his tongue out in concentration. 

"Will at least tell me what you saw, Stanley? What could be MORE interesting than my story?" pouted the British voice.

-ots of things- thought Stanley louder, I saw something crawl out of here. I'm trying to find from where.

  "Crawl? Here? Don't be ridiculous, Stanley!" the Narrator scoffed "I have no asset that could do that! The most similar to crawl an asset does is the baby and I have not seen something that big crawling here, Stanley!" 

Nothing pink? Small? asked the man, as he now explored the right corner of the 427 office. The other replied with a disagreeing shrug. Pink was a difficult color to harmonize with the Office.

A silent exclamation of triumph left Stanley as his fingertips brushed again something, he turned his head and squinted to see what he had found. 

A hole. Not larger than his ring finger. It seemed to go all the way through the wall, direct through the code. 

Stanley has never seen something like this, the Narrator was always very careful with the parable's code, knowing fully well that if it wasn't, the avatar would find a way to mess with it, probably breaking it beyond repair. 

Even if Stanley did in fact like some chaos, this was extremely odd and too dangerous for now so, Narrator? He called and showed his finding to the other. 

The Narrator moved its form to the wall indicated, its projected yellow square glasses close to the anomaly. 

"Oh, dear..." The shadow disappeared since it was easier to investigate this from the Narrator's office.

The vessel stood up, sat back in his chair, and started to fidget with his hands, nervous as he felt the other's anxiety. This was beyond the Narrator’s limited unlimited control of the parable and Stanley’s control by free will. 

The panicked mumblings of the dark creature echoed through the map as it searched for whatever could have done that. It appeared to have eaten its code to get inside, a small and not really important code but still not acceptable! 

In a room, in its office, somewhere not really physical, the Narrator went through its scripts with alarm. The walls were covered with monitors, some flicked between ten, hundred, thousand of angles of the parable, searching for others showed rows and rows of code, simple commands such as Object Chair; or as unreadable strings of zeros and ones, for untrained eyes, nothing seemed wrong but there were gaps where there shouldn’t be; each second that pasted more gaps appeared. A few papers cover some screen

It was eating the code. Multiplying. And eating more.

A virus.

The parable had a virus. 

A BLOODY VIRUS HAD MADE ITS WAY THROUGH THE NARRATOR’S CODE.

The shadow being was livid. 

How could something like this happen?! 

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END

As the other panicked, Stanley made his way to the employee lounge not really knowing what to do. He sat on the ground with some pen and paper he snatched from some desk on the way. The problem seemed to be big from the not-so-subtle ramblings of the narrator, but Stanley didn’t have something to offer except to give the other peace.

The vessel wasn’t really an artist, only beginning to draw recently..? When the parable had begun. In the first 20 resets? Time got too tangled after so many runs. Anyway, it began as a way to piss off his companion, drawing dicks and other immature things on the walls with a marker from the meeting room. The entity had been so disgusted with the display of “childish and improper” - its words - behavior, it had berated the man until it couldn’t take anymore and reset.

Stanley didn’t repeat that for some resets, mainly then only snatching paper, pencils, and pens, and bringing them to the broom closet when he was overwhelmed or just need space. There he would try to sketch the closet’s items, the bucket (if he had brought them with him) or the simple shape of the Narrator’s shadow form, its somehow yellow square glasses, and Line™ tie, the dark shape of its hair that sometimes changed to new hairstyles, the ever-present headset that was likely just for show, the glasses too to think of it. 

The drawings in the start were lost after each reset, this made the avatar unhappy but understanding. However, after spending three hours redrawing his office, Stanley did ask the Narrator if there was a way to keep it.

 It was actually surprised by the request and by the fact that its creation was making art. It couldn’t really see what Stanley did in the broom closet, so it had just thought he was making “improper” drawings on the walls again. Stanley couldn’t really deny the assumption since it happened once in a while. 

Nevertheless, the Narrator was more than content to keep the drawing, and after he mentioned the lost ones, it swore to keep the ones Stanley want to keep. And after some thought the entity “”offhandedly”” suggested that the man didn’t need to hide to draw anymore.

After all that, they established a ritual, where every few resets, Stanley would make his way to the meeting room signing to the other his intentions. The Narrator would lay some materials on the big table for him and let him be. Sometimes the vessel would ask it “to stay”, where they would talk about the drawings or whatever new script the other was working on or just… stay quiet, each focused on their own thing and enjoying each other’s presence.

The walls of Stanley’s office began filling up with sketches, doodles, and portraits. At times one or other would disappear, and he had a tiny suspicion these end up wherever the Narrator’s office was. This made him feel fuzzy inside.

Now, he was trying to put the undescribable code he saw in that hole into paper. It has given the avatar a headache just to look at it, probably too much for him to understand. And Stanley didn’t really like to think he is just a 3D model controlled by lines of digits. He has already accepted he is trapped in this ever-repeating loop and will likely never get out, one hope-crushing realization at the time. This piece wouldn’t be exactly how he saw it but more like the feeling. 

The ramblings have slowly quieted to a low mumbling, almost like a nervous buzz. 

He dropped the pencil to sign: Narrator?,  using the name sign he rarely used, the sign for N, and the sign for Story.  

Nothing. It must not be paying attention.

Narrator? Thinking loud normally worked.

“Hum? Oh, Stanley, sorry for this. It appears we have hmm… a virus” the Narrator said with false disinterest leafing through papers “Nothing to worry about.” it cleaned its metaphorical throat “Ah! I see you have already occupied yourself, Stanley. Good, good…” its voice trembled a little, Stanley decided not to comment on it. 

Can I help?  

“I am afraid not, Stanley. Thanks to you, we already know the virus is here…” He smiled a little at the ceiling. “Now, don’t mind me. I will find it…”

Was it the pink thing I saw? I can keep a watch for it.

“Could be… I doubt this has a physical form but I will not mind if you do, Stanley.” the Narrator said absentmindedly probably already focusing on something else.

The avatar’s thumbs-up was not acknowledged or seen. He returned to his drawing.

Now, the perspective isn’t quite right… 

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE NEVER THE END

This is bad…

No matter what the Narrator did, no matter how many pieces of this virus it erased and purged, this code-eating disease always came back.

Maybe it has a commanding core, sending orders and the storyteller was only killing its soldiers, not its commander. This was easy to conclude but the Narrator COULD NOT find where this blasphemous commander WAS.

It has searched bloody EVERYWHERE, every line of code, every corner of the map, and every page of its scripts. And the entity found NOTHING.

Was the ailment purposely hiding? It would be really strong, well-developed, and very very dangerous if so… 

Would the Narrator have to fully reset the game? Oh Lord, just the thought of that made its screens go fuzzy with interference. 

What if the virus was in the device?! Bloody hell, it could do nothing against that! 

How could the user contract such a virus? Probably in one of those filthy pornographic sites, humans seemed to love so much.

The sound of paper flipping was a lovely addition the being was really proud of, even if the papers weren’t exactly real, but now after spending the equivalent of HOURS going through them, over and over again, the little sound effect was stressing Narrator out, making some monitors blink in and out error screens. Or was it the missing code strings? This was all too overwhelming.

Should the Narrator stay with Stanley as he draws for a while to regain its composure? It would be in fact relaxing…

Flicking its glasses to a monitor which showed the man, the creature pondered.

Stanley was lying on the floor on his belly, feet up slowly rocking back and forth. He seemed really invested in his work. Lord bless the quiet moments they had together. The Narrator L̶͙̅͒Î̶͇̻K̸͕̈́E̵̺̹͆Ḑ̸̈ the way Stanley would smile whenever he was content with a sketch. It A̷͕͓͑́̓D̸̨͌͘O̴̘̟͈͌͝R̸͚̯̎͂͠E̵̺͋̓͘D̶̞̍ when the two of them would ping pong ideas for new scripts or drawings, even if it pretended to be skeptic of the vessel’s ideas while taking notes on the side. The way the man would fluster and hide his face with the paper when the shadow would compliment the work was one of the things it Ļ̶̡̪̭̤̟̹̥̪̟̝̪͎̖̬̻̿̀͐̾̇͐͘͜Ő̴̧̞̭̘̜͚̯͈̙̮͌̀̄V̷̧̧̘͕͍̰̰̖͎̭̻͍̻̘̰̖̠̮͆́̐̾̊̊̓͂̆̓͊̈́͝͝E̸̪̩̔͆̀̓̾̍̽̾D̵̘̺̜̪̬̼͍̘̰̲͖̦̾́͐́̍͌̇͋́͐̇͊̍̐͘͝ the most.

It Ļ̶̡̪̭̤̟̹̥̪̟̝̪͎̖̬̻̿̀͐̾̇͐͘͜Ő̴̧̞̭̘̜͚̯͈̙̮͌̀̄V̷̧̧̘͕͍̰̰̖͎̭̻͍̻̘̰̖̠̮͆́̐̾̊̊̓͂̆̓͊̈́͝͝E̸̪̩̔͆̀̓̾̍̽̾D̵̘̺̜̪̬̼͍̘̰̲͖̦̾́͐́̍͌̇͋́͐̇͊̍̐͘͝ when Stanley would take part of a story and seemed to be actually enjoying it. The feeling of joy and validation when Ṣ̶͑t̸̙̓a̵̗̋n̵͙̓l̵̞̂è̷̥y̸̛̱ would follow the narration without a hitch. The way Ṣ̶͑t̸̙̓a̵̗̋n̵͙̓l̵̞̂è̷̥y̸̛̱ would sign faster and bounce on his feet when he was excited. Even if it would never admit it out loud, the storyteller even Ļ̷̞̞͓̬̺̄́̂̔ ̸̦̲̄̋͗͂O̷͖͉̗͚͒͜͠ ̷̘̥̹̓̈́Ṽ̵͓͛ ̷̬͔͉͔̝̾̿Ë̶̼͎̤̳́̉͆̊́̕ ̸̟͔͖̉̅̊͝D̵̩̟͗̎̋̀ when the avatar would latch out at it, the disobedience ̷̼̈ẅ̵̙́a̵̙̐ŝ̴̲ ̴̯͆s̴͓͗o̸͔̓ ̴̮͘f̵͍̓u̴̟͊ņ̵̃ ̸̲̑t̵̛͉o̵̬͘ ̶̳͒d̷̲͐e̴͙͐a̵̜͆l̸̻̇ ̷̮̔w̴̛͔ḭ̷̈t̴̯̿ḧ̸̩ ̶̥̂

Ỉ̸͔t̴͝ͅ ̸̘͝Ḷ̵͗O̸̩̿V̶̧̾E̸͚͝D̴̟̓ ̵̛̲S̸̙̚t̷͈̓a̵̰̔ṋ̵̔l̵͓͠ḛ̸̒y̶͓̒'̶̙̎š̴͚ ̴̜̓l̷͙͐i̷̱̅ţ̶̋t̷̕ͅĺ̴͖ë̶̪́ ̸̼̃q̶̤̋ú̶̱ǐ̵̧r̴̪͒k̸̤͛ș̷͒.̷̠͝

I̶̧̙͓͙̝̓̃̂̌͗̒̽T̸̢̨̺̫͈̮͂ ̴̡͔̹̠̳̲̔͋͗́͛ͅL̴̜̦̲̟̻̐̾̈́͋̈́͠ ̴͎̙̦̞̰͒̋́O̶͇̙̮̤͔̅̽͘ͅ ̴̮̘̓V̵̨͚̟̉͑̉͊̚̕ ̵̢̗̖̩̀̾̑̕Ę̷̼͔̜͙̼̀̓͊́́̍ ̷͕̈̀͝D̴̠͚͇̳̠̊̉̊ ̸̢̘̞̳̝̅͑S̵͖͊͌͆͛̕͠͠T̵͙̩̲̞̩̞́̓̔̚̚ͅA̶̻̺̮̹̗̺̹̿̑N̸̛̥̜͚͙̤̈́̋̃͂̏́L̶͇̀̓͆̌É̴̖̘̉͐͋͝͝Ỷ̴̻̗̪̳͔͌͗̆̾͌͘ͅͅ

Į̸̻͚̲̹̘̘̪̖̎̑̅ͅT̶̢̤͛͋͆͒̀̾̕ ̶̡̼͕̺̰̞̼͇̰͗̉͗̓̀̌͊͋̕͘͝

Ẃ̵̰̝̟̬͒̆̐͋̃̒͒͐̚͝͠Â̷̢̢̲͉̻̳̠̖̝̣̗̒̊̽̂̈́͝N̸̳̠̦̞̮͇̞͈͒̈́̈́͂̔͑̋̍͘T̷̢̨̩͍͕̞̟̭̤̥̤̀̈͆̾͆̉͗͒͝ͅS̸̡̛̬̫̮̟̿̍̎̀͑̎͝

Š̸̡̤̳͊̋͆��̃̀̌̄͠Ţ̶̳͈̺̝͉̯͓͚͉̈̌͆̇͝A̷̡̳͊̄̽̇̈́͊̚N̷̩̫̻͑́͝͠͝L̵̛͇̾̐͘Ë̵̟́̇̓̄̏Y̵͙͊̿̋̅̿̓͒̐͗̃͝

“Whaţ̷̤̅́ a̷͎͆͝ͅr̶͖̆͑G̴̱̒̔H̷̲̿-̸̩͚̅͊-” is happening? - was what the Narrator wanted to say before, the white, deafening, blinding PAIN, AGONIZING PAIN clawed its way through the entity's core and code. Every one and zero in it lighting as if being cutdestroyedburnedglitc̴̡͇̐h̶͍͠ ̷̣̫̒g̴̼͙̑l̸̞̼͊i̸̯̓ͅṭ̴̉c̸͈͚̃h̷͈̎ ̵̠̪̑̉Ė̵͈͇̇R̷̡͈̆̃R̴̡̺̕O̶͚̘͛̿Ŗ̸̕͜ ̷̭̬̂̒Ė̵̟Ř̶͉̣R̴͓͊̄Ő̵̳̫̉Ȓ̷͖̜̍ ̸͘͜͝

“¡̵̣͚̎¡̷͚͑ͅO̸̲̺͒͘Ḣ̵̩!̵͈̏!̶̰͝” exclaimed the Narrator because it could do nothing else.

[̸i̵n̸s̶t̷a̸l̶l̶.̷P̷r̴o̵g̷r̸a̵m̴:̸ ̵L̸0̵V̷3̶B̸U̵G̸.̶e̶x̵e̵;]̶

[Run.Program(L0V3BUG.exe);]

[Set.AdminTo(L0V3BUG.exe);]

The golden yellow of the room changed to bright lovesick pink drowning the distressing red blinking error screens. Squares to sappy hearts. New and l̸u̵s̵t̴f̴u̶l̷ code filled the holes left in the system. All monitors showed Stanley, still drawing, still oblivious, and looking so so delicious. 

“Well…This is… ǹ̴͖ ne̸͓͋ẅ̴ͅ.” the Narrator smiled, dark shadows forming sharp teeth.  

[ExecuteCommand(Reset);]

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END

[to be continued]

----

this is a little snack i hope it will be an appetizer

if i actually continue writing this i will post it ao3

[andsewingishalfthebattle]

Novice sewing pattern: Cut out shapes. Line up the little triangles on the edges. Stitch edges together. We've also included step-by-step assembly instructions with illustrations.

Novice knitting pattern: yOU MUSt uNDerstANd thE SECret cOdE CO67 (73, 87, 93) BO44 (63, 76, 90) 28 (32, 34) slip first pw repeat 7x K to end *kl (pl) 42 * until 13" (13, 13, 15) join new at 30 pl for 17 rows ssk 27 k2tog mattress lengthwise BO and sacrifice a goat to the knitting gods. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT "INSTRUCTIONS," I JUST GAVE THEM TO YOU

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[rintoki]

i just want to mark up dr ratio’s pretty little body, his probably flawless skin coloured red with bite marks, almost purple from bruising. how pretty his butt would redden after just a few spanks, a cute blush on his pale skin.

he’d try his best to swallow down the whines that threaten to escape, forcing himself not to look away as if it admits defeat. but that’s fine, because you’d prefer to look into his eyes as you push yourself into him. excruciatingly slow and bigger than what you told him; your grip keeps him from turning away, shuddering breaths as he feels his walls stretching to accommodate the size.

“you lied,” his voice quivered, eyes flickering down between your bodies and back up to your piercing gaze.

“just because the truth isn’t what you expected doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you laughed. “veritas, you know that.”

he grits his teeth, sucking in air when you push the remaining length fully into him, relishing in the way he struggles to get used to the feeling. but you don’t give him time, instead pulling out and thrusting back in in one fluid motion. the high-pitched moan that escapes his mouth surprises even the Guild member himself, an arm flying up to cover his mouth.

“well,” you breathed out, voice filled with amusement, “you would’ve known—”

a wicked smile on your lips as you thrusted your hips, again and again, “that the arrogant.”

“self-centred.” another hard push.

“doctor.” and another.

“veritas.” and another.

“ratio.” a final thrust directly hitting his prostate, the throbbing bundle of nerves sending shocks up his body. every buck of your hips eliciting yet another whiny moan, shaky breaths as he tries to compose himself to no avail. and finally, you give him a break, cock pressed deep inside him while the doctor squeezes his eyes shut.

“could make such cute sounds,” you sneered, ripping his arm from over his face to expose how red he’s gotten.

for all his intelligence and knowledge gathered from his studies, veritas ratio could not utter a single word against you—afraid that the only thing that would leave his lips is begs for you to keep going.

but his hips trembled terribly, his walls twitching and squeezing around you. you didn’t need words to know how badly he ached; his body was honest enough, with the way his cock leaked a puddle of precum onto his belly already.

slowly, you started moving again, dragging against his sensitive walls. relief floods his face at the crumbs of stimulation, already feeling the familiar heat in his lower belly building up quickly.

his mouth hangs open, panting heavily as he nears the high he so badly craves. with hands nearly tearing the sheets, the venerable doctor arches his back, toes curling tight as a searing heat fills his lower body. the whimpers that left his throat are barely registered, rapidly losing control of his own body with every push of your hips. he grits his teeth and…

nothing.

he nearly chokes from the anticipation, and now it’s been violently ripped from him as all traces of your touch leaves his body. the timing was perfect. his cock drips with cum and yet his body felt cold, twitching.

you watched on with a cruel chuckle; how he writhes on the bed, how pathetic he looks after having his orgasm ruined. a slap to his still hard and aching cock jolts him back to reality, wondering just what else do you plan to do to him.

[psychopomp-namine]

the way everyone has a dislike in their profile that actually says something integral about their character. lu guang doesn't like plans getting messed up, cheng xiaoshi dislikes loneliness, xia fei with owing favors, vein with lying...

and then you have liu xiao, who dislikes... cilantro. and fish mint.

(shakes fist) (putting him in a glass jar and shaking vigorously) learn to be vulnerable!! tell me something about yourself!! I guess him liking movies lines up with the theater metaphors, and there's him liking chess, but that. doesn't count methinks

[starry-bi-sky]

more clone^2 memes because i think they're funny

[flintsilvers]

i need claudia to haunt lestat but not in the overt, in your face way that dreamstat haunted louis. i need claudia to sit quietly just barely in sight. blurred in the background of every shot lestat is in. even if we don't always see her, he does. but if he tries to look at her directly she moves out of sight. she's gone. he has no chance to fix things with her because she's dead so he doesn't get to look her in the eyes anymore

[sableeira]

please humor my self-indulgent artwork for the historical AU I mentioned like half a year ago and finally started writing. Detective Dazai and swordsman-for-hire Chuuya teaming up to solve crime cases during the Meiji period ✨

close-up because after a decade on this website I still haven’t figured out how to get images to look sharp

[densewentz]

All I can think about is how fucked everyone treats a Shadow Dragon Rook if they choose to save Treviso over Minrathous. Because the decision is sound, you know? Horrible, and hard, but Treviso is this half-broken merchant city. No guard other than the crows, no defenses, no giant floating big brother laser in the sky and one of Thedas' largest collection of mages. And so Rook has to trust their fellow Dragons to protect their home and hope to anything that they can keep the blight from Treviso. Only it's not enough, and despite the fact that Rook is one (1) person, who's only leading because no one else would goddamn do it, who has never even SEEN a dragon before the one at D'Meta's Crossing, and who still managed to fight off one dragon right after a grueling mission and then still have the energy to run off to try and help Minrathous - everyone still seems to blame them. And not just that, but the entire team spends most of the next act with their hearts breaking for Minrathous, and for Neve especially. 'Poor Neve, her home is gone, her people are dead, her life as she knew it is changed forever, poor neve, I know you didn't have a choice Rook but Neve is hurting now'. And I LOVE Neve. I love her. But it is so fucked up that as a Shadow Dragon Rook who was forced to make a horrific choice, who ALSO lost their home, their people, the life they knew- no one ever really bothers to comfort Rook. Or even consider that Rook would be absolutely shattered by what happens to Minrathous. Or fucking furious, because Rook and the goddamn Crows managed to fight off their dragon by the skin of their damn teeth with basically nothing, so how could the Shadow Dragons and the rest of Greater Minrathous not handle theirs! What were they goddamn doing that whole time?!?

The only difference between Rook and Neve is that Rook doesn't have the luxury of fucking off in the middle of a fight for the world to go mourn what they've lost. They have no choice but to pull their shit together and keep going.

And still every time Rook goes to a companion with the broken pieces of themselves in their bloody palms its just. "Oh Rook, how could this have happened to Poor Neve"

[ohitslen]

Angry Vash for me and myself specifically

also extra Vashwood:

[callisteios]

I have a new uquiz for you, go on a pilgrimage with me. discover who you are.

[weewoo911]

Buddie prompt:

A few days before the wedding

Marisol: So do you ever think of getting married again..? Maybe… somewhere nice in the autumn?

Eddie (barely paying attention): Nah, Buck would want a spring wedding for sure

Marisol: … Buck?

Eddie: ohshit

Then Eddie shows up single and alone at the wedding and gets absolutely hammered and refuses to discuss it

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[plusultraetc]

okay but what if seeing quirkless pro hero Deku on the news inspires quirkless former-pro Takami Keigo to try the whole hero thing again, but this time on his own terms

[buwheal]

BEACH OUTFIT 💥💥💥💥

He used to surf the web back in 98'.

[okcoolthanks]

I really liked “I Saw The TV Glow” for a lot of reasons like the lighting and sound design and stuff

But I also really liked it because how similar I felt to it. Like you watch a show you love so much you want to Be In It and all you do is interact with That Show to the point where you start talking like it and you make everything you see like it because you don’t Know anything else

I really liked owens character because of how Stuck he is in his life. He says he doesn’t think about “that stuff” because it makes him feel gross so he doesnt. He takes a job at a place he doesn’t like and when it gets shut down he goes with the manager to the next place also doing a job he hates. When his parents die he lives in the same house he grew up in because he doesn’t want to leave. He had one friend and when she disappeared presumed dead he didn’t do anything but reminiscenced on his time with her and watching the show she helped him watch. You can also see how he starts taking care of himself less after his father died, in the last scenes of the movie he looks like he barely eats or drinks water, he doesn’t do anything but his job. “Years feel like seconds” because he isn’t doing anything of importance he lost everything that he looked forward too

He doesn’t talk above a normal speaking volume until he’s literally DYING and even after he apologizes still out of breath. He’s still dying then. No one responds to his apologies or responded to him when he was screaming

He gets a chance to leave and go with Maddie to The Pink Opaque and he gets scared, he gets a chance to leave with her when he was younger and he gets scared. He’s so unhappy with his life but he doesn’t want to change it because he doesn’t know what else to do