#i will be screaming paper girls thoughts into the void of the internet for the foreseeable future

[bberry005]

one of my favorite parts of the paper girls show and the comic being different is that like the show could be one of the alternate timelines from the comics. they get their memories wiped each time they go through, right? and each time, things seem to happen slightly differently if the end of the comics is any indication. so like...if they don't remember the time travel or anything or whatever and the past and the future are always changing then the show and the comic being slightly different variations of the same thing is literally a play on the canon time travel effects, even though its 100% not intended that way at all that's just how my brain thinks about it because i want to connect the two

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

[nehawriter16]

2020 / 24

There are only 2 things I can do on an airplane – dose up on sleeping meds and pass out, or order one too many cappuccinos, keep my exhausted brain awake, and will it to talk to paper. The flight from JFK was in the afternoon and in the chaos of leaving for the airport early in the morning, I forgot to pack my pills.

Two cappuccinos in, my hands were shaking and begging to be typing out the Mrs. Maisel speed monologue that constantly runs in my head. Even though there is a month left in this year, I decided to do my annual New Years Eve post. Over the last 3 days, I’ve been drilling it down to go from gibberish to slightly readable.

Here it is.

Like the rest of the world, in January, I was blissfully unaware of the shitstorm that would follow. I got into several colleges on the East Coast for a Master’s in Finance degree. Every day, I would race down the stairs with my laptop and show my parents: another admit, another scholarship! On the surface, I was making pro and con lists for each one. Deep down, my heart had already picked Fordham in New York. It was New York. Nothing else would cut it.

The day after I turned 24 in January, I also met my (now ex) boyfriend on the internet. Completely by accident, he saw my profile because a mutual friend followed my writing. Two days later, she texted me and said he would like to talk to me. Did I want to talk to some boy studying in Paris? I was single and bored and already had my year laid out for me, so why wouldn’t I?

It moved quickly. Three months later, we had been speaking every day and were exclusive. We had not hung out in person. It was stupid, but I had never come across anybody who liked me as much as he did. In every relationship I had been in before this, I always knew I was more emotionally involved. I fell in love with his devotion to me – he would stay home (who stays home in Paris!) and choose to spend virtual time with me over going to clubs with his friends. I watched myself become the epicenter of his life and thought – this is how much I’ve always wanted to mean to somebody.

In March when the pandemic hit and India shut down, my father sent a car to pick me up from my internship in Bombay, where I had moved two weeks ago. I didn’t pack so much as my toothbrush – the driver brought me home and I had no idea that it would be months before I’d get to leave again.

Morales stayed high in the beginning – we thought it would end in 21 days, then 2 months, then 5. It has taken over the whole year now, and despite us gridlocking it into “2020,” we all know the first half of 2021 will also be filled with masks and sanitizers and not hugging your friends. I wonder if I will ever settle into somebody’s arms without cringing again.

March melted into April, that melted into one long drawl until suddenly it was August and college was beginning the following week. I found myself refreshing the US consulate’s website absent mindedly one afternoon, and all appointments that had been suspended suddenly showed you a tiny little bar that read “reschedule.” I screamed and clicked.

I had thought I would be spending the year stuck at home, awake and attending classes at odd hours. While my classmates went to happy hours in dive bars in Manhattan, I would be in my bedroom, still chained to my parents’ curfews and ultimatums. But then suddenly, I was standing before a US immigration officer in Bombay, and he was telling me I had been granted my student visa.

All that was left to do was book a flight to New York, and break the news to my boyfriend, who was on his way to my abandoned apartment at this very moment for our first date, 7 months after we first began speaking. He had come home in March when France went into lockdown, and it was starting to feel like a throuple with long distance, the third and very present member in our relationship.

I packed up the belongings I had left there, and we sat across from each other on the double bed. I kissed him first. There were roadblocks, and our personalities and views clashed on so many important things, but I loved him. Two days later, I said: I have to leave for New York in 3 weeks. He didn’t take it well.

In September, I landed at JFK. When the wheels of the plane made contact with the runway, I was smiling behind a mask I’d had on for 16 hours. On the Air Train to Manhattan, I felt a sense of happiness wash over me and toyed with the possibility that maybe I wouldn’t mind if it was just me in this city. I would be okay alone.

I found an apartment, a roommate, signed a lease in a beautiful building in Hell’s Kitchen, walking distance from college. I met lots of people from my class and instantly picked out the ones I wanted to become good friends with. I dove straight into academics and extra curriculars at college – after 5 months of nothing happening, life was suddenly exciting again.

When New York lit up every night, it felt like anything was possible. I started eating better and walking a lot. My hair grew out from the bad haircut I’d gotten the year before. Coffee was no longer just coffee, it was finding a new café and walking through Central Park. Drinks were not just drinks, they were about accidentally stumbling onto a secret bar in the East Village, finding favorite spots in the neighborhood, letting a cute waiter recommend a cocktail to me even though I was perfectly capable of picking one myself.

The boyfriend and I were fighting more than usual. I was getting tired of it. We had discussed a life together, but it was slowly and surely becoming clear to me that I would resent myself for making big compromises for a person who still had a lot of growing up left to do. As New York got cold, I did too – without trying. When one particular argument got really bad, I asked for a break from the relationship. He didn’t like it.

A week later, I woke up to a girl sending me screenshots on Instagram of her conversation with him (pre me asking for a break) on a dating app, and without getting into details, I will tell you it was not a conversation anybody with a girlfriend should have been having. I should have been broken in half on the inside, but now I could finally say, without feeling guilty – this relationship was not working, nobody was happy, and you were so unhappy you thought talking to other women was okay. I spent all of one day drinking with a friend in Central Park and sobbing myself to sleep.

But mostly, what hit me after the initial shock had died down was a tsunami of relief. I felt lighter, freer. I try not to think too hard about the trauma that comes from finding out that the person you think is so devoted to you, and definitely loves you more than you love them (or so you think) is being unfaithful, because it hurts a part of me that is already very bruised from all the things that have happened to me before. So I don’t.

But it was New York. I was young and smart and there was a wine shop down the block that sold $14 bottles of Moscato. I didn’t need much else to know I would be okay. At 20, I would have jumped right back into going on dates every other night to distract myself from what had happened, then never called any of those men back. At 24, this emotional speed bump resulted in a lot of quiet introspection in my bedroom. I spent a lot of time alone, on the phone with friends, and walking around the city. I had learnt to like my own company enough to not fill a suddenly empty void with anybody else’s, even though there have been several tempting offers in this past month, and sometimes, I have succumbed to them, but mostly I am very strict with who deserves my company.

It was nice to spend that second month in New York by myself. I owed absolutely nobody a single minute of my time. No one asked me questions, or called me and expected me to share my day unless I wanted to, and once I had worked hard and cleared out the things from my to do list for the day, time stretched out before me and I had the autonomy to decide the smallest thing down to who to meet, what to eat, how much to sleep.

I didn’t let my academics and ambition suffer – no matter what happens, I never do and I never will. The grades stay up – it’s built into my system. I am back home now and just 2 days in, I find myself wishing I hadn’t left New York. I was starting to build a life I liked there, and the only price I had to pay for it was a 4 pm sunset. It would have been slightly lonely, but I like the time I spend by myself. I worked hard to become like that.

This month, I will see my friends here at home. I’ve missed them. I can’t believe I grew up in this city and I already feel so alienated from it just from 60 days of living away. Is that how badly I wanted to leave?

I might be dramatic and fly back on my 25th birthday, so that I can say, “I was on a flight,” and ignore the slowly expanding bubble of dread that comes with turning that old. I like the ambiguity of airports and I’m the sort of inherently sad person who would love to be alone and unreachable on my birthday.

I acknowledge that my problems this year have been so small in the face of those of us who have lost family members, contracted the virus, had to give up internships or had jobs taken from us, been torn away from family, or had to make it through this alone.  

I feel almost guilty that good things have happened to me in a year that has predominantly been bad for almost everyone else. I feel apologetic, even though from 2017 to 2019, I was treated like life’s sick joke so I should deserve these good things that I worked hard for.

I definitely feel myself growing up, though. Emotionally I find I have a clearer idea of what I want from relationships and friendships, and I don’t second guess cutting off anybody who doesn’t serve that purpose or messes with my mental peace. I still have days when self-doubt comes over for a cup of tea, leaves me weak in the knees, but most days are free of it. I am also moving out of that chameleon phase where I mirrored what I thought a room full of new people would want from me, and I am unapologetically myself, irrespective of who’s watching.

Last year I remember wishing for something stupid, like “I wish there was somebody to kiss on New Years Eve,” because I’ve never had anybody to smack lips with when it’s midnight. This year, I don’t care. I’ll kiss myself in the mirror, for all I care. I love her. She’s my homie.

It’s been a weird year. I know who I was in 2019, and I remember wondering if I was proud of her. Things were still in purgatory then. But I steered my life and brought it back on track. This year, I am proud of myself without doubting it.

There’s no measuring scale for personal growth, but if there was, I feel at least a couple of inches taller in 2020.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Blood, tears and sea breeze

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

Hi!!! Long time without posting, work has been crazy, so many painful things, but I have a tiny space of time and I wanted to think about something else for a change, new chapter, more questions and so close to the end. I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Please take care of yourselves, mental health is so important, specially in times like this. We will get out of this, until then I send you a lot of love and hugs from here.

Atte: a still tired but more hopeful doctor

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Chapter 18: Reality

The stinging pain across your cheek somehow brought you back to reality, a reality that you had comfortably numbed away the moment the handcuffs closed around your wrists.

But reality could be tricky sometimes, because the brief stolen kisses on his livingroom, the innocent way he touched your face, and the hunger look on his eyes every night you escape to sleep alone in his room were part of reality, even when now they feel ages away, and numbing all the pain, all the desperation even those perfect moments was the best solution you could find, because the way the kindness evaporate from his eyes when he told you "Miss Y/L/N, you are under arrest for the murder of Jonathan Norbury" and was replaced for an empty void and disappointment in his voice, was enough to keep you from wanting to be in this reality.

But you were back, the echo of Ash words were hurting you, because she was wrong, you love them too, and you would have never wanted any of that trouble for them, she was wrong for believing that you wanted any of this, but she was right to call you all thos hurtful things, even when you were not sure of what you did you felt like you deserved it.

And what did you do? Did you really slept with Charlie? Charlie who was more like an awkward little brother that anything to you, did you really order him to ... kill Jonathan? Even thinking about it was to hard to process, you tried search for your bracelet again knowing to well it wasn't there, but your hands were handcuffed to the table and the more you pull from them the more they hurt, and the cold steel started to mark your wrists.

And somehow that pain kept you from blacking out, the thought of Alec angry and sad because of you alone in his house again, Ashley's words, and Jonathan's body on the floor, and you started crying, letting the pain wash out from your eyes, and then as your wrist started to bleed from the handcuffs clarity followed, you were not screaming as last time, because there was something you could not shake off your mind, something that was almost ridiculous, like the idea of even touching Charlie, and the sudden realization make you wanted to laugh, but you keep it quiet, because the pretty officer that had brought you in returned with a laptop and you didn't want to appear more disturbed than they already thought you were.

***************************************************

"Sugar?" Miller said offering a small bowl to Ashley Langford, she seemed stressed and there were a few wrinkles around her eyes and her hair looked less shiny than usual, somehow Miller thought, she looked more human.

"Oh no, it's fine thank you" she said and kept looking at the door. " I'm sorry for the way I acted, is just that my parents are very old and having the police coming and trash the place was..." she put the tea aside and covered her face with her hands before starting to cry. "How did this happened? My brother is an asswhole but he would never... oh god what did he do?" She cried again and Miller offered her a paper tissue.

"Miss Langford I'm so sorry for the inconvenience that this process is causing you, but I can't tell you any details about the investigation, we are going to need you to cooperate with us and told us everything about your brother relationship with Y/N" she said and the woman rise her look puzzled.

"I'm sorry, but I already know, everybody knows" she said and Miller was shocked to hear that. "It's all on the internet, a friend of mine send it to me this morning, I called Charlie and he gave me a very confusing response and I run to my parents house to question him about them, but they had already arrested him" she said and took her phone out of her purse to show her.

They were not the explicit videos that Ramos had found, but they left clear that Y/N and Charlie were together and they had killed Jonathan.

"What did your brother said?" Miller asked when a quick search on her social media let her know that maybe all of Broadchurch had seen Y/N confession.

"I don't know, he sounded confused, angry, he said That count thinks that because that old jock is shagging her now she can dump me she is crazier than I thought, we'll see how much he likes her after this" she was convinced he meant some of the girls he often meet at bars, but the truth was clear to Ellie.

A couple nights before, in the middle of the night Alec had texted her to meet on the piers, on their usual spot. And after some crafted lie to Brian she was there, ready to fight whatever demon was torturing his mind, however what she found was different, he had a quiet smile, looking at the waves, and enjoying the sound of the ocean in the night, if she didn't knew him any better she would have swear that he was humming a song.

"Having a good night sir?" She asked and sited next to him.

"Miller, do you think I'm bad at my job?" He asked and she kept trying to guess his train of thought, a sixth sense told her she already knew what was happening, but she didn't want it to be truth.

"Yes, you are a nightmare, what is happening?" She said humoring him and he became all serious.

"Just answer the bloody question Ellie" the use of her name let her know it was serious so she looked at the ocean for a a long moment before speaking.

"You are not, you are capable, witted, yes you are a nightmare, but you are quite good at your job" She said honestly.

"Do you trust my judgment?" He asked then almost in a whisper.

"Without a doubt sir" she said, and before he could reply and make her part of something that was clearly against the rules she stoped him. "I trust you would never jeopardize an active investigation, and that whatever choice you make on your... personal... life, would be after a deep and conscious consideration" she said looking deeply into his eyes.

"Ellie..." He started but he knew he should keep it quiet, this was for the best. "Thank you detective Miller"

"You are welcome sir, and if I may... I hope you are happy, and have a good night" she said, meaning every word, even when the pain was pushing to make her cry. "I will change the patrol on your house tomorrow, to someone more trustworthy, you know for safety" she said and walked away from the piers, leaving him with that stupid smile on his face.

And now all she could think off was him alone in his house angry at himself and she had the need to run to his side, but no, there was only one way out of this for him, without damaging his image more, and that was with a conviction on Y/N, so she took Ashley Langford declaration and it was now certain for her that Charles had posted those videos, the how he found out Y/N was involved with a certain scottish man was still a mystery but she was determined to find out.

***************************************************

But I like you and your cock better than Jonathan's, Charlie the sound of your voice coming from the laptop saying those things almost made you throw up, but you kept watching You should kill him already and we can leave this place, don't you think big boy? It was you, there was no doubt about it, it was you in a very ordinary and nasty room, acting like a drunk idiot, rubbing your almost naked body on Charles, who had the creepiest smug on his face and you wanted to slap that dump expression out of him, this was degrading and humiliating, but you were focused, as you had been the last few days, everything was more clear than it had been in the last year and your mind was running fast trying to focus on one sole detail.

You have seen at least four different videos of yourself and the dates on them click on your head with dumb fights with Jonathan, headaches or days that everything seemed blurry, and for a solid minute your mind start deviating and consider the idea that maybe you were actually guilty, that maybe this semi naked idiot was actually you, but before that ridiculous idea could consume you another stupid phrase out of Charlie's mouth made DC Ramos blush and made you remember something as DC Harford looked careful at you.

The last time you had blushed was a few days ago in Alec's couch, once you came back from the cliff and he turned up the heat since the both of you were wet from the rain that had made you run inside, kissing him had been a childish decision, and he kissing you back was just as bad, but now you were sitting on the couch covered with a blanket and holding a cup of tea, glad that Daze was god knows where and you could talk like adults.

"We shouldn't" you started, "I want to, I really do, but you are still leading the case, and I can't lie, and if someone asks me are you sleeping with detective Hardy I will say yes, and ..." You blush at the look he gave you and quickly hide your face away from his smile.

"Fine, you should lock your door tonight then" he said jokingly with a playful grin and for a moment you wonder were have this man been all this time.

"Sure detective, let's make dinner, I'm starving" you said and kissed him again, thinking at the moment that everything was alright, but now as agent Ramos looked uncomfortable away from you the little bubble of happiness was finally burst, and once again that anger make your memories come back to you the image of the night club cleared, the toothy grin of the man in the red shirt, finally had a name, and things became more and more focused and you looked up to DC Harford.

"Enough" You said a little more aggressive than expected, but they stopped looking at you with petty on their eyes if just for a moment. "I seen enough, what do you want to know?"

***************************************************

"Look everyone in Broadchurch is talking about you" Miller started showing Charles her phone with the edited videos "Are you going to keep pretending that you had nothing to do with this or are you finally going to talk?" She said and the authority on her voice irritated him.

"Where is the guy?" He asked looking at the empty chair next to her, but he had abandoned the erratic tone, and was talking quietly.

"In the other room talking to your girlfriend here" she said pointing at the pictures. "Whom I think will say everything so I will recomend you to start talking"

"No the little eye candy, the other one, the old one" he said and smiled when she change her stoic look. "I liked the guy, seems tough" he said with honesty and she repressed the impulse to sigh in relief.

"He is not working today" she said and tried to regain her pose. "He is loosing all the fun".

"Oh sad, because this is so entertaining" he said sarcastically "What do you expect me to say? I post them, she is suppose to be mourning, and sad, but no, the little cunt is so happy walking holding hands with some arse, well what can I expect right? She cheated on Jonathan, why wouldn't she cheat on me too" he said it upset at the thought of the woman seeing another men, and the whole situation became ridiculous to Miller, and at the same time something was not coming together.

"Did you saw her with someone else?" She asked cautiously, knowing too well that until the las four hours she had been enclosed in Hardy's house and if she ever leave his place was with him.

"I did, a couple days ago, acting like Jonathan was nothing to her, like I was nothing" He said, and she desperately needed to know if he was lying, because if he meant Alec he would have said it since the beginning, but if he meant someone else, who? Unless... maybe he was fabricating the whole thing.

"How was him?" She asked and without hesitation she add "I mean she has a type, Jonathan, you... another how did you call agent Ramos? Eye candy"

"Yeah" he said smiling sardonically "Some bloke, you know tall, black hair, I could take him down" it sounded rehearsed, and it became clear he was lying when he nervously add "Clean shaved bastard"

She was about to say something else when the door was opened and a nervous Harford came inside.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we need you" she said and Miller followed her outside leaving a puzzled Charlie behind.

"What happened?" She asked and Katie looked at her feet uncomfortable "She still hasn't talked?"

"No, that's the problem, she talks but she says she doesn't remember anything..." she started

"Well she make this idiot kill her fiance I'm not surprised she wants to pretend it didn't happen" Miller say spiteful.

"No that's not the problem, she says she will confess, but only to you" she said and Miller was surprised to hear that.

"Absolutely no" she said calmly.

"I say that and she went silent again" I try everything, we even show her how those videos are running through all the town, by the way how the fuck that happened?" She said and show her a link send to her by her dad. "But she keeps asking for you"

Ellie remembered the last time she walked inside that particular interrogation room, a part of her wanted answers, but she feared she would act up against her, and ruin the case as she have done all those years ago, but no, Haedy needed her to fix this, so she make up her mind an asked Katie to leave her alone inside.

***************************************************

"Ellie" you said once she was sitted in front of you, "it may be in our best interest if you gave me 5 minutes before turning on that thing" you said looking at the tape recorder that Harford had turned off.

"Is Detective Miller, and why would I listen to you?" She said and her tone was not only dry and professional but also rude at some point.

"Because if you care about Alec as much as I do you may want to hear what I have to say first" you said and she raised her hand and you prepared to feel the pain in your face again but she only put the pictures of Jonathan's body and screenshots from the filthy videos in front of you.

"This is caring for him?" She said and this time was no longer any professionalism on her voice. "You have five minutes" she said finally.

"I didn't sleep with him" you said and she gave you an incredulous look "Alec," you said exasperated "I thought is better to let that out in the open, nothing happened, so he is safe on that end... and I have no intention of talking to a lawyer so you can rest" you said and her expression softened a little "where is he?" You couldn't help but ask.

"Alone in his house, probably wondering why did he trusted you" she spat at you "4 and a half minutes"

"Fine, I don't remember anything of this, ok? Completely blank, but I'm not an idiot I know how that sounds, and I won't play the victim, I will confess, to what is here to whatever agent Harford needs to put Charlie on jail, and me if I have to"

"And how are you so sure about Langford being guilty?" She asked.

"Because I remember now, the day I found him like this" you said pointing at the picture, I took the bus home and Charles was there, he put him there" you said since the images were flowing back to your mind, and you remembered, "I start screaming for help when I saw him, he said something about this being what I wanted, what I asked him to do all the time, and I fight him to run away and then I just remember his hand in my neck and the taste of something bitter he force down my throat and before everything went black again I saw him put my ring on his hand" you said and Ellie's eyes opened up drastically.

"The broken ring?" She said quietly.

"Yes, the next thing I remember was being in the front door reading Jonathan's letter, getting inside and freaking out over his body" you said very aware of how unrealistic all that sounded but she had to listen to you "He posted all this crap, but nothing about the parking lot, and I'm sure I fight that time, and this person that I don't remember is willing, drunk or drugged with a split personality or whatever, but she appeared to be ok with what is happening, then why will I need to scream, and run and fight on that car? What was different then, why did he needed to make a show out of Jonathan's dead, if he was so sure I wanted this, why did he have to make it all this big?" you said aware of the way that sounded but for some reason something on her eyes said she might believe you.

"I have no interest in understanding the train of thought of a lunatic" She Miller said trying to hide her own concerns "What is your point?"

"You are bsolutely right, but this was post right after we..." start dating? That sounded childish, we kiss? Sure Y/N rub it on her face "All I can think is that this is not over, and I can't let whatever else is coming affect Alec, so I'll confess so this ends quickly, but I need you to make sure he doesn't get dragged into this, I can't have that on me"

"Your time is up" she said and put out the note pad where you should write the declaration, completely ignoring your words.

"Ok, where should I start?" You said resigned.

"You are really going to confess?" She asked surprised and didn't turn the device on yet "why? If you really think there is more to it than the evidence, then why?"

"No matter how, I'm responsible for his dead, I might as well start paying, also this way I can make sure Alec's reputation and Ashley's life doesn't get more damaged for my mistakes" you said firmly.

"You really care about him huh?" She said and gave you a half smile. "I think I know exactly where you should start" she said and started writing instructions on the notepad, before you start speaking.

Tag list:

@allonsymexgirl @laciesaito @tf18unipups @dazedkrosupreme @timey-wimey-lovi @coffees-and-constellations @ladyaziraphale @acid-gurkerl @moonuvert @tennantious

[teatimewithlennon]

I Know The Way There [John Lennon] - Part 7

~~All the jumping is starting to take a toll on Lydia’s body, but is that gonna stop her? Probably not.~~

Part 1 l Part 2  l Part 3 l Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6

Here’s what was on repeat while writing lol

Word Count: 1345

{Finally uploading on the day I’m supposed to, shocking. Anyway enjoy this part. It was much easier to write than the previous ones, it sorta just came to me. Other than the part where I manually did inflation calculation and the calculation into pounds instead of just using the fucking internet}

I'd made up my mind. I was going to see John again. I had to try and get him, even if it can only end poorly.

Pushing myself up from the damp ground, I stood at the edge of the cliff. From my perch, I could see the pleasant glow of a city in the distance. I take a deep breath, taking in the smell of wet foliage and earth. It’s so peaceful out here, exactly where she’d want to be.

I place my hand on the monument, taking a silent moment to thank her for everything she’s ever done.

I try to relax my muscles as I prep to jump. Closing my eyes again and taking a deep breath, absolutely terrified that it won’t work and I’ll be stuck on this mountain all night. I release the air I’m holding and let reality envelop me.

The way it takes me is more intense than normal, my body is not used to this much stress. My limbs feel like they are being pulled out of their sockets. It feels like my skin is burning. In my chest it feels like my lungs are filling with liquid, causing a drowning sensation. Every time I try this it’s getting harder and harder to take. When I appear in my dad’s living room I let out a blood-curdling scream. Within seconds my father holding my small frame close to his chest, cradling me on the shag carpet.

“Hey-Hey-Hey-It’s gonna be alright,” he runs his hand over my hair kissing me repeatedly. “What’s wrong, baby?”

My head is lighter than air, I can barely make out my father’s words. I’m not quite sure how to respond, but before I get the chance to think of something I start to feel nauseated. As if I’m about to throw up. I start to panic. The suffocating feeling of being in the void comes back. I gasp for air trying to respond in any way, but it’s just not coming out.

Dad stays with me on the floor, holding me in his lap, for what has to be hours. I never did give him an answer. After I started to feel more normal, after my flesh stopped burning and my lungs started to work again, I ended up falling asleep. He must have moved me to my bed because I wake up under my quilt to the sound of my father in the kitchen making breakfast.

I turn myself over, gazing at the clock on the wall. It is only seven. The morning sun shows through the sheer curtains, giving the room a welcoming glow. I slowly stand, feeling my lungs ache in my chest. My clothes smell musty, and man do I need a shower. I pull some casual clothes out of the closet and set them on the bed, making my way out into the hall. The whole apartment smells like eggs and hashbrowns. I hear dad singing to himself. It makes me think back to my childhood, causing me to smile as I open the bathroom door.

After a quick shower, and an even quicker makeup job, I follow my dad’s lovely singing to the kitchen table. He’s just finishing up some blueberry muffins. He looks the right amount of disheveled. Salt and pepper hair messy atop his head. His handsome tanned face covered in a gray stubble. My friends always thought of him as the hot dad, and the twins have, on multiple occasions, tried to hit on him. Which has caused many a weird conversations I don’t like to get into. Sam likes to tell me that’s where I got my good looks, though I can never tell if he’s joking or not.

“Hey sweetheart,” he gives me a jolly smile while plating up breakfast for me, “did you sleep okay?”

I lift my feet up onto the chair next to me, “I think so.”

“Now I’m not gonna make you share right now, seeing as you just woke up. But I’m gonna need you to tell me what happened,” he pours me a cup of tea. “I don’t like when my baby girl is in pain.”

“Do you want the short or long version?” I say with a mouth full of eggs.

“Let’s start with the short and if I want to hear more, you can give me the long version.”

He moves my legs off the chair, “Short version, I jumped too many times and I think it started to do some real damage to my body.”

“Why have you been jumping so much?” He asks, taking a large gulp of coffee.

“I’ve been really busy lately and haven’t been giving myself enough time,” I don’t think I’m ready to tell him about John yet.

Dad inhales deeply, “So you won’t be jumping anytime soon?”

“Well about that,” I start, rubbing the back of my neck.

“You can’t be serious?” he looks shocked as if he doesn’t know I have very little regard for my own well being. “You showed up here, half-dead, and you’re gonna do it again?”

“I wasn’t half-dead, just a little worn out,” crossing my arms over my chest. “Besides, I plan on staying where I’m going for a while, so the overdoing it thing won’t be a problem.”

He’s quiet for a moment, “I don’t know Lyds.”

I rest my hand on his, “You don’t have to worry, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“I don’t even know where you’re going,” his big bushy eyebrows furrow together, “or what you’re really doing.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I take a bite of my breakfast, talking with my mouth full of eggs and potatoes, “if you can guess the year I’ll tell you what I’m up to.” I take my plate to the sink.

“Oh come on,” he turns to me, “that’s gonna be impossible.”

“Not impossible,” I stand in the doorway, amidst the bead curtain, “just really fucking hard.” I stick my tongue out at him, earning an annoyed laugh.

If I’m gonna be spending some time in the 60s I’m gonna need to do some prep, because after that mess there is no way I’m gonna jump back here every night. I go to the hall closet and dig around for my dad’s old suitcase, finding it under a couple of boxes of old magazines from the cafe. I take the thing to my room and begin to pack it with all the essentials. Once I’m satisfied with my haul, I change into some 60s appropriate pants and shirt. 

I dig under my bed and pull out a shoebox-sized metal case. There’s a heavy lock around the clasp. I fiddle with it, putting in the combination, and quickly it opens with a pop. On top is an American passport and ID. The rest of the box is filled with cash, about £500, all printed before 1950. I thumb through it, pulling out a different value notes. Then, I count them out to £150. Taking one of my purses, I put £10 in my wallet, then tuck the rest into my suitcase. 

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, staring at myself in the mirror. This whole situation seems wild. Though I suppose everything about my life is pretty wild. It’s not like I know John. I just know of him. What if he doesn’t even care about some random girl from a bar? What if I’m just gonna be another girl he throws away? What if he’s terrible like the media made him out to be? I push those thoughts out of my head. Everything will be okay, and even if it’s not I have to try.

Wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I run to the kitchen to kiss my father goodbye. He’s still sat drinking a coffee with the paper. I’m in and out as fast as the wind.

“See you in a couple minutes,” is all he gets before I’ve slammed my bedroom door.

I grab my purse and suitcase and with a flash and a bang, the tiny bedroom is empty.

[nomimits7]

Undecided Chapter 1...

Title: Undecided Pt 1

Genre: Investigation, murder, masked behaviour.

Warnings: murder, psychotic behaviour, might be triggering.

Members: Detective OT7 x Forensic scientist Reader

Note: Phrases like this are just add-ins to help with the story line… If they confuse you, feel free to ask!

Summary: Moving overseas for a once in a lifetime job offer was one of the scariest things Y/N ever did. That was until she got stuck in a twisted investigation of random murders, all with one link but no leads. Closing in on the culprit(s) Y/N doesn’t realize the danger she’s getting into. With no family or friends, can Y/N dare to trust those seven closest to her with her life?

Thanks Geek for being the best beta reader ever!! @feed-my-geek-soul 

Prologue 

•♡•

Death: The personification of the power that destroys life, often represented in art and literature as a skeleton or an old man holding a scythe.

•♡•

“Who do we have here...?” 

 Most people are not given the privilege to choose between life or death, the choice is made for them. Most people would choose life if they were ever given the chance, but you? You were different.  

Death has always fascinated you. You used to binge watch documentaries on serial killers, read hundreds if not thousands of books on murder, even your school speeches all revolved around the minds of these criminals. This is something you slowly fell in love with. The mystery, the way they think, but most of all the way they always got caught for their unholy crimes. It was during one of these moments you realized YOU wanted to be the one bringing their fantasies and creepy fetishes to an end. The idea of taking something away from someone that took a life, was like your own personal high.

After completing school, you followed your dreams and studied to become a Forensic scientist. After only 4 years you had your Honours degree and ready to take on the big bad world out there. This proved to be way much more difficult than you initially thought it would be. Finding a decent job as a female forensic scientist was nearly impossible. Most companies only wanted males or more experienced females. They always found some or other excuse to not hire you, to afraid of the risk.

“We’re sorry to inform you that the position requires someone a bit more experienced Miss Y/N”

It’s not you, it’s the system. You knew you were one of the best out there, but clearly being born without a third leg dangling uselessly in between your sturdier legs was a problem. A big problem.

Your country, well they’re still getting use to the whole ‘Women are equal to men’ thing. The chance of you finding a job even as an intern was next to nothing. Again, the risk was just to big.

“I just don’t get it… I can do an even better job than anyone of those three-legged idiots they call men,” you said before pouting into your coffee. Your best friend Lusai just sat there and patiently listened to your mumbling. He was always the best at giving advice on life problems, especially yours. This man you have known for almost 15 years. This man knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Lusai, what should I do?” You whined as his silence became too much to bear. “Come on, you know me better than I know myself. What’s next for Y/N?”

The red-headed, green eyed male stared directly into your eyes. Your best friend was handsome. Red heads being the rare species, he was a well-known ladies’ man. Alongside his green eyes, he even made you swoon from time to time. Clearly, he was doing something right, you see your dear Lusai wasn’t the thinnest or ‘muscle mania’ type of man, no, he was a solid, tall guy that picked up girls like it was a daily trip to the local supermarket.

“Y/N” he sighed. “You know dam well what to do! Just keep looking. Take a breath and keep going. Somewhere someone will see your talents.”

Wise words always seem to leave his mouth. Either that or you were just way to desperate. Even though he was the definition of a fuckboy, he was a smart fuckboy. Both in life and sex.

“See, that’s why I always come to you first!” you said as a smile spread across his plump pink lips.

“Yeah, I was your first everything” He retorted with a smirk.

It’s true. Your best friend was your first everything. Maybe being best friends with your ‘first crush’, ‘first kiss’, ‘first make out’ and ‘first sexual contact’ wasn’t the best idea ever. But hey, the idiot crept into your heart and well, he’s stuck there now. You still love the guy to death, but you always learn from your mistakes. Him, being a painful reminder of that.

“Whatever.” You bite back.

A comfortable silence settles in between you as you slowly sipped the rest of your drink. You loved how you could sit in complete silence and still share so much with someone. The rest of the day consisted of interviews and shopping.

In summary… it was fruitless.

Nonetheless you chose to take Lusai’s advice and keep trying. Somewhere out there, someone will see that you are worth the risk. You are passionate about your work and that’s what makes you different from the rest.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself in the same coffee shop, at the same table, sitting across the same person, drinking the same dam coffee. You were in need of something stronger than coffee. Unfortunately, you hate alcohol as much as you hate rejection. Your hope of finding that dream job was slowly fading. Lusai was a smart boy, and so he did what most smart people would do if a friend was on the brink of depression and self-pity, he made a horrible joke.

“So, the other day I bought a bottle of still water.” He began.

With confused eyes you looked at him expectantly.

“I bought that bottle and threw the water down the drain.” He said as he took a sip of his drink.

“Why did you buy water just to throw it out again?” you asked a little annoyed.

“I wanted to set the water free” he was now staring at you, his face void of any emotion. A beat went by as you sat there, dumbfounded, only to burst out into a fit of laughter.

“There we go! There’s the Y/N I know” he said with a chuckle.

“I hate you, you know that right?” You said as you attempted to punch the speed devil.

He simply shook his head as silence once again took a hold of the atmosphere. You must be doing something wrong. Your studies included practical practice, yet you are seen as inexperienced. You got lost in your jumble of thoughts until Lusai cleared his throat across from you. You turned your attention back to him as his worried eyes made contact with yours.

“Y/N” he began with a shaky breath. “Maybe, just maybe you shouldn’t limit yourself to our country. I mean, you always wanted to travel. Maybe this is just a sign that you should search overseas.” He carefully added. Examining your face as he waited for your reply. Like most people out there, packing up and leaving everyone and everything you ever knew behind scared the living shit out of you. It has been one of your many dreams to see the world yes, but leaving completely without certainty of returning? That scared you.

“I- We’ll see” was all you could say. What more can a scared brave girl say when you had no right to show your weak side? Even though Lusai knew you, you never allowed him the opportunity to see you as a weak woman. And now was no exception.

His words definitely stuck with you. That very evening you began your wild search into the great unknown pages called the internet. You found hundreds of opportunities, but none of them struck your interest. Either it was just an office job (which was a big no, you needed to be out there and not locked up behind a creaking old desk signing papers) or they were just simple internships with little to no pay. None screamed your name, until you came across a rather unusual advertisement.

 Z private Investigators.

Needed: Forensic Scientist.

No skills needed nor any experience. We have enough staff to help with the basics.

Status of request: Urgent.

Contact Mr Kim if you are interested. 08**-9634-09**or Zinvertigators@crimelab.co

Well, this should be interesting. It was as if this advertisement was made just for you. You clicked on the link and that’s how you delved into this company’s history.

“It’s located in South Korea, some place called Busan at the moment. But its almost like a company on wheels. They move around a lot to different cities. At the moment there’s seven employees, all men. There were unfortunately no photos whatsoever.” You explained to Lusai over the phone as you sat crossed legged on your bed still scrolling through their homepage.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Apply Y/N. Working with seven men can’t be that bad. And you’ll get to travel! Maybe this is what you have been waiting for, the worst that can happen is receiving a no.” Lusai said

After hanging up you got started on your email:

Good day Mr Kim,

My name is Y/N. I have recently Graduated with my honour’s degree in Forensic science. I’m 20 years old. I know I am way to young, but I was home schooled. Attached is my resume.

I hope to hear from you soon

Kind regards,

Y/N

And just like that you found yourself a mere week later, on your way to the airport for a personal interview. Mr Kim had responded with the exact words: ‘For a 20-year-old your resume is sure impressive. You sound like a very intriguing girl, I can’t wait to meet you. We don’t believe in interviews over the phone. How soon can you fly out?’ Now here you are saying goodbye to your closest relatives on your way to the great unknown.

The flight was probably the scariest part of the whole ordeal. The shaking of the plane as turbulence took over for what seemed like an eternity, definitely made you thankful for every blessing you have received. The fact that you were alone on a man-made bird and the fact that you were sitting next to a creep, his hand kept ‘accidentally’ touch your left thigh, wasn’t helping. When the plane landed some 20 hours later you were more than happy to get the hell off the overgrown chunk of metal.

Walking out of the plane you saw a masked man standing near the window with your name scribbled on a paper. This guy was completely dressed in black. He had long, defined legs (in skinny jeans that did wonders for his thighs, if you were being completely honest), broad shoulders covered in a very loose fitted black hoodie, completed with a face mask and fishers hat hiding his hair completely. His eyes though, big brown ones, they were calculating.

As you walked over to this black ninja looking assassin you gave yourself the most needed pep talk.

“Just breathe, no one knows you other than Mr Kim. Fact they don’t even know what you look like. You are fine, just peachy. Oooh shit I’m getting closer. Shut it! you got this girl. Just bre-“

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said as you came face to face with this mystery man in black denim, and really good-looking thighs. You could see him smile under his mask. He nodded to you and turned around. Awkwardly you followed him to a big black SUV. Without a word he ushered you inside and off you went. The ride was silent as you stared out the window. You had no idea where you were going but soon the van left the city and entered a quieter scene of houses and apartments. Slowly your eyes got heavier as sleep overtook you. So many questions haunted your dreams, so many.

You woke with a small gasp as you felt someone’s hands on your thighs. Looking up you came face to face with, yet another, masked man in all black. This was someone else. Someone with soft yet dangerous eyes. This time, though, the unknown man removed his mysterious mask.

Time stopped as you came face to face with heaven. This man had brown almost almond coloured hair, his soft deep almost black orbs stared straight at you. He gave you a boxy grin as he saw you taking his god-like features in. His deep voice startled you as you got lost in those mysterious orbs for eyes.

“Hi Y/N, Welcome to Busan. My name is Kim Taehyung. Or Mr Kim, whichever you prefer. This is the place you will be staying, I do hope it’s to your liking. We’ll give you a day or two to adjust. I’ll let you know when your interview will be. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone like this but we have some business to attend to. Have a peaceful evening Y/N.” Taehyung said as he stood up. He helped you out of the van and before long you found yourself, yet again, alone.

That evening after packing away your stuff and making yourself at home with a bottle of wine and a Domino’s pizza, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift back to the almond haired man you met. Taehyung. Those eyes made your skin tingle, and not in an arousing way. There lurked a sense of danger behind them, a danger that perked your senses with curiosity.

As you sat on the couch your curiosity got the best of you. Seeing as you were too tired to take in your surroundings, you decided to do your own little research on the boss before you go for your interview. Pulling out your laptop you opened Naver and began your escapade into the life of Mr Kim.

“Huh? He… he doesn’t exist? How does someone not exist on the internet?” Even you can be found with a simple search of your name. Hell, your whole life’s history could be found through a simple search and a click or two. Interesting, interesting indeed.

That evening you went to bed with even more questions than answers.

 Oh, if only you knew what you were getting into…

Chapter 2

And there you have the first chapter... I hope you enjoyed it. Don’t be shy to ask if something is unclear... Love you <3 

Tag list: @gukptune @theweirdkidsontheblock @sugasheart @sugashaye @bulletproof-fanfics @carirosesg @crazy-fangirl-10 @waitingforanangel @deafeningstudentdreamergoth @slimou13 @autumnboo126 @chaechaebean217 @littlepinknightmare @sugasheart @kimmieann @nvghtlytae @part-time-patronus @ohmyspook69 @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @allayna24 @mikaelaaaaaaa713 @shyfox101 @djumbreon @bangtanwifey14 @honeydewseoks

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, like this chapter !

p.s. Some names tumblr refuse to tag... I am so sorry, I did try

[orthonas]

Blog 1?

Heeeey so I usually just reblog stuff on this account but lately I've been thinking of using it as like a diary or blog. I used to just write all of my thoughts down on paper or type em out on my computer but just yelling them into the internet void sounds really nice. Like hey some random stranger will see all my thoughts and be like "oh wow neat" and for some reason that's appealing to me. So yeah I guess if you follow me like all 5 of you that aren't bots you can expect random blog/diary posts from now on.

I'll probs just talk about like diary stuff in general today, like I always liked writing in journals. I have so many thoughts that it feels nice to write them all down, like it can be a pretty cathartic experience you should try it some time. Plus writing down all your thoughts it feels like you're taking these problems you can't get out of your head and you're just shoving them somewhere else and then you're done with them. Or if there's something you really want to talk about but have no friends you feel comfortable talking about it with or like no one really cares about what you have to say it can be nice to just write about it in your diary.

Like maybe you want to gush about a book/movie/song/game you love but no one else cares about that piece of media so you can just gush about it in your diary. Or maybe you wanna talk about your day or people you know or just anything it feels nice to have a pretend conversation. The only drawback at least this happened to me is that you end up being sad that you don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff and you feel pathetic. Which is why I'm screaming all my problems into the void now what fun!

Anyway I think I'll do a short post (is this a short post idk post length) for now cuz my hands are getting cold and it's hard to type. I wanna do a thing once every day cuz that sounds fun and I think it'll help with my mental stuff like getting all these thoughts out of my head. Oh and if you feel like responding cuz you're like "oh wow whatever this girl is talking about is sorta cool I wanna talk about that!" feel free to! I love to talk about stuff haha