#im not sleeping well these days so hopefully my writings are coherent enough!

[feathersandfarmers]

What is your opinion of Molly The Chick, Frizzle The Scouse Chick and Dr. Mark Fry?, and What is your opinion of Mrs. Melisha Tweedy’s new makeover and outfit?

Molly: I thought she was really cute, and looked so much like Ginger! I think she's a great addition to the Chicken Run cast of characters. I appreciate how the writers wrote her; She was outgoing and adventurous without being a bratty character. Honestly I just wished we could have seen more moments of her as a baby/toddler, and more moments of Rocky and Ginger looking after her and being regular parents!

Frizzle: I like Frizzle too! I had a hard time understanding some of what she said tbh. At first, i felt her color palette was too saturated, and i think i still do tbh (her color is way too different from all the other hens when you compare her to all the other character designs and their color palettes) but she's still cute and i enjoy drawing her! I have a headcanon that she's quite a good artist, and loves to draw and make crafts with Molly (she made the necklace she's wearing!)

Dr.Mark Fry: (okay so it's official his name is Mark? where is this stated, im curious!) I'm gonna say something weird but i remember seeing fanart of Dr.Fry drawn all thin, and sexy looking with a sly look to his face before his official design was revealed. Then you see him! He's all cute, and chubby-cheeked and has this goofy grin on his face. He's an eccentric scientist (and a theatre kid!) i would love to see more of his inventions. I wonder how he met Mrs Tweedy, he seems to really love and worship her.

Mrs.Tweedy's makeover: She looks great tbh, very reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. She's got nicer makeup, dyed her hair all black to cover the greyness we saw in the first movie.This make-over of hers shows how she really desires to live a glamorous life-style.

[lucifermeo]

Personal wishlist for future anime adaptations of BSD (assuming S4 can come out this year?? @/Bones hello my guy??)

(very light out-of-context spoilers for 55 minutes + stormbringer)

Season 4:

2-3 eps for The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency (only Fukuzawa/Ranpo part)

10 eps to cover from where S3 left off until the ADA reunites in Anne's room*

*manga chapters 54-79 which seems a lot but the manga chapters've been getting shorter & not longer, plus their poster did show the sky casino. also it'd be such a nice, hopeful note to end the season on (before everything went to hell :v)

Season 4.5**:

4-5 eps to cover 55 Minutes light novel

7-8 eps to cover Stormbringer light novel

idk call it Bungou Stray Dogs: Nobody likes Europeans Singularities or something***

**i think there's enough to kinda plan a S5 right now but at the same time we (and Bones?) don't know when and how exactly the DoA arc will end. it does look like it's reaching climax (maybe a two-front final battle aka airport+prison?) and iirc Asagiri said he's done with the draft to wrap this arc up, but if it can end fast enough Bones might just want to wait and cram its conclusion into S5 because tbh letting one arc, nevermind one that takes place in ~10 days canon time, drags for 3 seasons isn't really great for viewer retention

**(+) speaking of viewer retention, i think wan! is cute and all, but if they're waiting out the manga they could do so much more with actual content that enriches the worldbuilding aka, 55 minutes & stormbringer. tbh i could see 55 minutes as a single movie, but stormbringer is wayyy too long to shove into 100 minutes of film with any coherency and doesn't lend well to being split in a two-parter either, so why not do both in single season? we can get atsushi (the, y'know, main character), akutagawa, dazai & ada adventure AND chuuya, dazai & port mafia adventure, which will definitely sell well while not having to sacrifice the narrative trying to shove either into a "main" season, so win-win-win?? (@/Bones)

***i know 55 minutes and stormbringer are like two separate timelines/stories, but they both touch a lot on European skill/singularity weapons and singularities in general, so it might not be that hard trying to link them together. they could start with 55 minutes, then at the end when they're reflecting on the events have atsushi ask dazai about gab/verne and dazai would be 'sike, arent i too familiar with that shit', or have ango (give the man some sleep) type up a report and retelling both events together or sth. not to mention we already have mentions of singularity weapon in the main manga so it'd be a nice idea to introduce all the foundations before S5. plus, verlaine mentioned h.g. wells by name in stormbringer so that'd be a nice tie-in

Season 5:

(hopefully) concludes the DoA arc

dunno what other light novels Asagiri plans on writing, but if Bones hopes to cram the DoA conclusion here maybe it's better to not have any LN content at all and picks straight up from S4

misc thoughts: i dont think DoA will be the last arc of BSD, there's still a lot not touched on about the European side of things (Clock Tower hello?) and world war might or might not pick back up so im sure asagiri still has some wild ideas to write. fukuchi dies for sure which will probably signal the end of DoA arc, but just because dude's a trainwreck doesn't mean he didn't have some good points about govt-sanctioned horrors, so that might lead us into the next arc. fyodor's dying is 50/50? somehow hes both been here too long and i still feel we havent done enough with his character yet. anw im more than ready for DoA arc to end, please asagiri have mercy 🥺

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (19 [INTERMISSION 2])

A/N: cut to me rubbing my little fly hands together — i am SO excited to get this ball started that i’m literally boutta post 2 chapters, so bear with me here ,., also, posting them now because i’ve gotta go to work at around 11 and then dont wanna do posting/edits at like, midnight lmao 

bc that’s when im just gonna. keep writing., im so excited for this arc y’all im literally shaking

WARNINGS: massive descriptions of disassociation, being lightheaded, mentions of being dehydrated, mentions of not eating, threats of being pushed down the stairs, bandage mention ig? — i think that's all on this one!!!

Words: 1181

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

“You’re in my world now, not your world~”

“Why are there so many stairs?”

“And I’ve got foes on the other side~”

“Wait, that’s not the lyric.”

“Sit down at my table~”

“.....Fine.”

“Put your mind at ease~”

“I put a spell on you~”

A small, tired laugh. “If you relax, it will enable me to do….”

“And now you’re mine~!”

“...Anything I please. I can read your future~”

“Be prepa-ared!”

“I can change it ‘round some, too~”

“Trust in me~”

More laughter. “Ironic.”

“Fuck off or I’ll drop you down the stairs. You started it!”

“I know, I know. It’s all almost done. I only hope Thomas is-I hope he’s okay.”

“Eh, who gives? He’ll be fine soon enough, don’t worry your bandages off. Come on, your gown is waiting.”

Thomas flicked his feet left and right, watching the television while paying absolutely zero attention while laying on the couch upside down. After failing to summon the Sides that morning, he’d gone to watch television, and found himself rewatching The Office again in a semi-binge state. It’d take a solid four days to watch it all but it wasn’t like Thomas had the motivation or drive to do anything else, despite the looming deadline on the new video’s script.

On any other day, he’d be able to hear Virgil screaming at him, Roman rushing around with ideas, butting heads with Logan over rewrites and edits. Patton’d pop in with some supportive words and an offer to make dinner sometimes.

But now? Now he wasn’t getting anything. It was as though all of his sides had clocked out at once — even Deceit and Remus weren’t delivering input. And whatever was holding back any of the other Sides he had (because, lets face it, Thomas had no idea how many Sides there were in total, especially not after Remus’ introduction) wasn’t letting up. So, using every ounce of deductive reasoning he had left, Thomas figured that he just. No longer had a personality.

The more he thought about that, though, the more he considered how irrational that would be. But he didn’t care enough to believe a separate reasoning? And didn’t have the focus, creativity, or capacity to think of a different explanation.

So, The Office. 

He had been sitting on this couch for upwards of twelve hours. Probably bordering on sixteen to seventeen hours, but he couldn’t count. It was long past sunset outside, perhaps the stars were out. 

An empty pizza box was sitting on the couch beside him. At least he had the common sense to eat one meal — an extra large pepperoni meal, but a meal nonetheless.

What the heck was happening?

The phone on his chin, balanced there out of boredom a few hours ago, buzzed and nearly fell off. 

Thomas’ hand smacked up to it, causing his phone to fall and hit his nose. That caused a chain reaction of him falling over, first sideways onto the couch, then rolling off the couch all together and onto the floor. 

So much for “nothing happening.” Thomas groaned as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and grabbed his phone, which had slid beneath the table. 

He flicked it on.

JOAN —> IMG0492.JPG

Ah. Thomas squinted and opened it. 

It was a Sanders Sides meme, one of the new templates. He covered his mouth and snorted with laughter, shaking his head. 

Another text from Joan dinged.

JOAN —> you alive? you missed prime coffee shop writing hours

Oh, heck. Thomas mentally chided himself. He and Joan were going to hunker down at a cafe and hash out the new script today to get it done before the deadline. Of course he forgot, like an absolute doofus. 

He began typing out a response. The thought of lying flitted through his mind, the excuse of being “out of it” wasn’t exactly the best reason. He thought for a second but he couldn’t even think of an adequate lie. Wow. Even Deceit had clocked out. Thomas probably should have tried to summon him, now that he thought about it. A little past time, but, oh well.

Alright, the truth. How the heck was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t think? Thomas pushed himself off the floor on his elbows, but winced as the weight seemed to leave his head almost immediately. He kept a hand on the couch as he sat up on his knees, one hand running through his hair and then resting on the back of his neck. 

How long had he been sitting upside down again? Goodness gracious. Part of him wanted to be worried about the repercussions of not having a coherent thought process, but the other was kinda singing Disney songs on repeat. 

In actuality, the most coherent thoughts he had held all day was the nonstop playlist of Disney songs that seemed to run through his head. 

At least that meant Roman was still kicking? That’s what that meant, right?

Oh, yeah, the text. Thomas pushed himself up onto the couch, ignoring how both of his legs seemed to be asleep, buzzing with the prickly pain of pinched nerves and a lack of blood. Lack of blood. All the blood was in his head. Heheheh. 

Gosh, he should sleep soon, he was getting light headed. Had he had any water today, actually? The thought of water made his throat run dry — no, no he hadn’t.

Focus, Sanders. He bit his tongue and typed out a response. Using both thumbs, because for some reason, his single-hand coordination was not working.  

THOMAS —> Yeah. Sorry about that, I think I’m sick or something. Haven’t been able to hold a thought all day and my head is super light.

JOAN —> thats fair, do you have tea or some soup? :( if youre that sick do you wanna push the script deadline a day or two? 

What did Thomas do to deserve Joan, they were always such a beacon of sunlight. He smiled to himself and responded as fast as he could while typing like a technologically illiterate fool, one letter per minute.

THOMAS —> That would be awesome. I’ve got tea, too. Think I’m gonna go to sleep soon though

THOMAS —> Could we push one day? And if you’re still not doing anything on Sunday, we could reschedule 

JOAN —> okay, I’ll let the team know. you get some sleep!!

JOAN —> I’m down for prime coffee shop o’clock on Sunday. 9 am at brewed awakening?

JOAN —> if you need some soupy soup let me know 

Then they sent a cat gif with hearts from Giphy. What an angel. 

Thomas exhaled and leaned back on the couch. He put his phone flat on his forehead, then crossed his arms. That was the best news to come out of today, honestly. One day was better than no days. And if he and Joan could mix up some good ideas on Sunday, then all the better. 

Hopefully that’d give the Sides enough time to figure out what the flip was happening in there.

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

[hcneymilkks]

NINE PERCENT Zhu Zhengting ‘A Dozen Letters’

In which the dreaded Valentine’s day arrives but instead of being left alone, Ying Yue has to track down her mystery guy.

PAIRING: Zhengting x Ying Yue (OC) 

SORT OF A SOCIAL MEDIA ONESHOT (texting and Instagram)

|YING YUE|

Snow crunched against my shoes, my breath exhaling out puffs of white smoke. It was so cold. Yet, my school didn't let us stay home. Stupid winter. Although it looks pretty, frost covering the tree branches bare of leaves, it didn't give me enough motivation to get out of my comfy warm bed.

But of course, my sister had to barge in and wake me up, yelling at me to drive her to school.

Sadly, both my parents took the two cars we had. Instead, I wrapped up my sister and walked her to school, her "boyfriend" meeting with her.

"Happy valentines day!" He yells. My sister giggles and hugs him. I roll my eyes and bid goodbye, not needing to stay here longer.

And now here I am, at the entrance of my school trying to take the excess snow off. Normally, I wouldn't care how the school looks, but today it made my stomach want to hurl. Bleh. Hearts here, red and pink there. This is the day I die.

I quickly text Ha Rin, crying inside.

Ying Yue

don't know where i am

theres too many hearts everywhere

i think i got sent to hell

send help

bitch where you and Eun Jung at

Ha Rin

Lmao

its only one day come on you can survive

we are at ur locker, come here

Ying Yue

im cryin

I walk quickly to my locker, trying to ignore all of the "Happy Valentines day" and couples sticking their tongues in each other's mouths.

I hate this day, I hate this.

Why?

Just bad memories.

Ying Yue

sksksk theres too many couples making out my poor eyes

Ha Rin

LOL hurry up then

I almost bump into a girl who then glared at me.

"Bitch." I mumbled

"Ying ying!" I turned around and saw Ha Rin and Eun Jung both holding....ugh.

"Awe are those stuffies for me? You shouldn't have." I playfully try to take it away but they both glare at me playfully.

"No, you know who this will be given to." Eun Jung says in a teasing tone while Ha Rin nods and laughs.

I shudder. "This is why I hate valentines day."

"Come on Ying Yue. it's only one day, it's not the end of the world." Eun Jung puts an arm around my shoulder. I shrug it off, going towards my locker to get my math book.

"But you both are leaving me for your boyfriends during my four-hour break. It is so the end of the world." I pout and try to open the lock with no avail.

"Ugh stupid lock."

Ha Rin and Eun Jung laugh. "Awe is little Ying Ying sad because she doesn't have a boy to cuddle?"

"Shut up. I don't need a man."

"That is true....but remember your other valentine's day attempts with your crushes. Both of them who I hate with my life but you do you boo." Eun Jung says.

I drop the lock and look at both of my friends. "We do not talk about that. I was too dumb in what I thought was love."

They both snickered. "Well no one told you to stick candies on their locker DUH!" They both say at the same time and I swear if murder wasn't illegal I would have buried their dead asses by now.

"Ohmygod what did I just say not to do!" I exclaim and open my locker a little bit too forcefully, I felt a stinging sensation on my cheek and involuntarily closed my eyes.

"What the fuck!?" I yelled, opening my eyes a moment later to see not one, but TWELVE LETTERS spill out of my locker.

The hallway was silent for a moment and I felt my cheeks burn. Oh, how I hated being the center of attention. Make it stop. The bell rang not a moment later and I clumsily picked up all of the letters, saying a quick goodbye before heading to the library for my first free period....hopefully alone.

|ZHENGTING|

"Okay calm down I'm just getting out of my car." I say into my phone, hearing coherent mumbles from the other side of the receiver. I grabbed my bag from the backseat and went into school.....of course, I locked my car.

"What was that Wenjun? I can't hear you." I say in a sing-song voice, always teasing him for his mumbles. Before I used to blame my hearing, I swear it keeps getting worse with me always blasting music to dance to. But after many times hearing him mumble, I realized it wasn't my hearing but it was just Wenjun's habit.

"-Hello? Zhengting are you still on?" I snap out of my trance and nod my head, mentally cursing because no one can hear a nod from a phone call.

"Yeah I'm still on. I'm inside the school now, where are you?"

"Going to my locker, meet me there before class starts?"

"Will do." I hang up and look around the school. Pink and red hearts everywhere. My student council can be so extra with these "holidays." I hum a little tune and turned the corner until I heard a voice that made my knees go weak.

Ying Yue.

Oh god, she's at her locker. Calm down Zhengting you just have to walk to Wenjun's locker that is beside her. You can do this. I take a deep breath and start to walk towards Wenjun, not until I tripped on my own shoe and almost fell. Curse my two left feet.

I didn't see Ying Yue look but I saw her friends did and I mentally cried. Great, I'm gonna get teased.

"Hey bro." Wenjun and I did a handshake and opened his locker. "So how was it falling for...you know." He points in the three girls direction and laughs.

I glare and tackle him down, not needing this first thing in the morning. "Can you just get your stuff and let's go? I don't need to be here any-" I heard yelling and looked at Ying Yue, locker open and letters on the ground. I blushed and looked away, recognizing that handwriting. The bell rang soon after and I felt a rush of cold wind pass by.

"Dude, just how many letters did you write to her?" Wenjun whispers and I tense up. I saw this post that this guy bought his girlfriend twelve roses and stated that if the last one died their love will die. Plot twist? The last rose was fake and that signified that their love will last forever.

"I may or may have written twelve letters." I said shyly.

"AND YOU STUCK IT IN HER LOCKER ALL AT THE SAME TIME!?!" Wenjun exclaims and I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Was that a bad idea?"

|YING YUE|

I sit down in the library and take deep breaths, never again I will run....psh just kidding I run away from everything.

I touch the area on my face where I felt a cut and I winced. I quickly put on a bandaid because I don't want to get an infection...duh. I then opened my math textbook, trying to finish yesterday's homework that I forgot at school. But I couldn't. I couldn't think of anything else but the letters. "Twelve letters? For me? It's not April fools day yet." I mumble, closing my math textbook and welcoming sleep for the remainder of the free period.

Well, no sleep came. My hands indistinctively went to my backpack and I found the twelve letters I dumped in there haphazardly. I picked a random one and looked to see who it was addressed to.

"My love? What the hell?"

I opened the letter and admired the handwriting. For some reason, I recognized it from somewhere. There's no way Zhengting wrote this. I thought. He doesn't see me other than a little sister.

Yes, Zhengting and I go way back. Meaning the cliche neighbours to this day. The cliche spending time at each other's houses cuddling and talking about everything. The cliche friendly "I love you's" and "I miss you's." I laughed softly at the vast memories. It was as if a switch turned on in my brain and I stopped spending a lot of time with Zhengting. Why?

I love him.

I tried to distract myself with other crushes, trying to make myself noticeable to them with yes, putting candies on their lockers for valentines day. Only one noticed but rejected me.

I later knew it was so stupid. I was blinded by artificial love and wanting to get rid of feelings for Zhengting.

I looked at the letter.

'Ying Yue,

You probably ran away when you saw all of the letters fall from your lockers, I know you hate the attention. So instead of giving you twelve roses because I'm literally so shy, I'm giving you twelve letters (which you could make it into paper roses but idk.)

Where do I start....the first time we met. Now I don't want to give too much away but we were pretty close in our childhood.

You've grown into a wonderful, beautiful human being I mean girl. When you first walked into the doors of this year I swear you got even prettier.

Since I only have twelve letters because I didn't want to bombard you with more, I will compliment you twelve times...maybe even more if you let me.

Number one, your laugh, your sincere one. I love hearing it. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with you. Yes Yue, you read it right. I'm deeply and terribly in love with you and I can never get you off my mind.

Ps. I'm closer than you think *winks*'

I put down the letter and look around, trying to see if I can spot anyone. There were only girls here. Does this mean he's in my classes?

|ZHENGTING|

I smile when I see her look around. Thank god she can't see me from here. I go back doing my own work, hoping she will read the rest.

I know, so cliche. But it's really scary confessing to someone who has been in your life for so long.

immediately I hear a loud thud and I jump out of fright. God damn why is everything so scary? Taking out one earphone I look to where the sound came from and lo and behold, I make eye contact with a fallen Ying Yue.

Shit.

|YING YUE|

"Oh shit I'm gonna be late for my next class." I hurriedly pack my things, mutter a small apology for the person who wrote those letters, for they will be crushed yet again by the suffering and anxiety of what is called school books.

I stood up, but somehow the next moment the chair that I sat on fell along with me beside it. Damn me for being so clumsy.

Not only was the library more silent than before, but I also made eye contact with the last person I wanted to see. Not when I had my speculations.

Zhu Zhengting.

I quickly looked away, flustered and embarrassed. I ran once more. Let's hope from all this running I'm doing today is going to make me lose weight.

Why do you do this to me Zhu Zhengting?

***

My media studies class was pretty interesting to say the least, but for some reason, I have a project to do.....it's photography?

"Well happy valentine's day to all. I didn't expect to bring this project up so suddenly." My teacher explained.

"For the past month, we have been looking at social media and how it affects our daily lives. Normally, we only want people to see the bright, happy sides. Or either, we repost other people's photos without permission and claim it as our own. Now, what does this all have to do with the project? I will be asking each of you to either clear your own Instagram profiles and start fresh or create a new Instagram profile. This will be a week-long project. I not only want you to add your happy moments but your sad ones. I want to see not only cute pictures of the sky but also your homework. I want to see your daily life in pictures. So like a daily blog."

Everyone starts to groan but the teacher silences us. "Oh come on class. It's not like you all are already not glued to your phones twenty-four seven. It's worth thirty percent of your grade so I expect some effort. For extra marks you can write a journal on one specific photo and why it's special to you."

"I wish I dropped this class already." someone mumbles beside me but I completely ignore it, already knowing what to do.

50 likes

@ying.yang - aight @person who left me twelve letters in my locker. Who u and wat u want wit me?

5 comments

@e.jung - A SECRET ADMIRER!?! IS IT *********?

@ying.yang - @e.jung ShUt uP

@haharin - @e.jung oof it's totally him

@ying.yang - @haharin SHUT UP

|ZHENGTING|

Shit.

My eyes went wide during lunch.

"Wenjun did you see Ying Yue's post?" I show him my phone and he looks at the photo.

"Damn ting why don't you ever write me notes like that?" he pouts and I smack him on the arm.

"You don't deserve any...not when you cheated on me with Quanzhe!"

Wenjun laughs. "But no seriously you should tell her today that you like her. You have History class with her right?"

I nod.

"You still have them?"

I nod again.

"Good. I have a plan."

200 likes

@tingting - maybe today will be the day where I can finally give you flowers in person

20 comments

@yellowturnip.justin - eh?

@byewenjun - oh you are so confessing to her today...im tired of seeing you sulk about how youre too much of a chicken to do it

@tingting - @byebyewenjun sksksks sHUT UP

@fanchangechange - wait, Zhengting only knows one girl...does that mean????

@tingting - @fanchangechange I LIKE UR SISTER NOW SHUT UP

@quanzhieeee - @tingting @fanchangechange THATS A LIE  

|YING YUE|

I fiddle with my pen, hoping something exciting happens during the week or else I will be posting sky photos and my song playlist which is all over the place. I mean I guess I could write a reflection on my music, but what's the point?

I wait for History class to start, wanting more than to just go home.

Music in my ears, I sketch a human figure, pouting when one side is different than the other.

A tap on my shoulder.  That one tap made me lose my focus and snap back into the dreaded reality. I now know what photo I should post next.

I take out my headphones and turn around, looking at the familiar boy. Again? The second time I have seen him today.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he asks and I shake my head no immediately. He places his backpack on his desk and sits down, closing his eyes.

I look at him for a moment and then shake my head, trying to go back to my sketch.

"Why are you shaking your head?" I hear the person beside me say. He opens one eye and looks at me from the side.

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"Okay then. I wanted to ask you a question. "

I turn my body and look at him. "Shoot."

He opens his other eye. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"W-what?"

"The picture you posted on Instagram, who's the lucky guy?"

Shoot.

"Oh that? I have uh no idea." I'm sorta wishing, hoping it is you.

Zhengting nods and the teacher walks in, signalling the start of History class.

***

My eyes feel heavy, and the teacher's monotone voice does not help one bit. I peek a little to my right and see Zhengting taking notes like a good student. Meanwhile, my notes are filled with sketches.

70 likes

@ying.yang - oops

10 comments

@haharin - wtf listen in class

@ying.yang - @haharin i cant im gonna fall asleep soon

@e.jung - tsk tsk

@ying.yang - @e.jung @haharin WILL BOTH OF YOU LET ME LIVE!?!

I didn't even know the bell rang until I looked around and saw people packing their bags, getting ready to go home. I quickly stuffed my phone in my pocket, standing up to pack my bag until I saw a piece of paper hurriedly folded on my desk.

'Ying Yue,

Meet me at the field if you wanna know who I am'

My heart started pounding for no reason. What if this was a prank? What if this note was left for someone else? Well actually it did say my name but the chills ran down my spine. I shook my head and went along with it, stopping by my locker to bring my Physics textbook with me to hit the person if needed.

***

The closer I get to the field, the farther away I am from the crowds of people.  I stop at what looks like the middle, plot my stuff on the ground and wait.

"Wenjun I told you that you shouldn't have gone to the washroom right now, look, Ying Yue, is already here."

"Ting calm down, just go up to her and say I love you or whatever."

My ears perk up at the familiar voice, but the other voice speaking says something that makes me freeze.

Wait, does that mean?

"Ying Yue."

I turn around and look at Zhengting.

"It's you?" I say, cringing at how I sounded so blunt.

He rubs the nape of his neck and laughs awkwardly. "Suprise?"

I giggle and smile. "I'm glad it's you."

250 likes

@tingting - smile brighter than the sun. My love

30 comments

@yellowturnip.justin - oH!?! IT WAS YING YUE THIS WHOLE TIME!?!

@fanchangechange - cute

@quanzhieeee - I ship

@byewenjun - freaking finally. thought you were going to die alone

@tingting - @byewenjun TAKE THAT BACK

@ying.yang - sksks LMAO @byewenjun

100 likes

@ying.yang - i guess something good did happen after all. im glad its you

30 comments

@tingting - ily

@ying.yang - ily2 loser

@e.jung - @haharin have we been replaced?

@haharin - @e.jung I think so :(

@ying.yang - @e.jung @haharin shut up you guys. you were the ones who left me in the first place!

MASTERLIST

[hannahvsana]

An unnecessarily long post of self reflection which was meant to be a short update but got deep

It's one of those days where I just feel shitty. I think getting my period has triggered it, not only the hormonal part but mentally- I've never openly talked about it before but getting my period always makes me feel like I'm "not good enough" from an ED perspective. The voice in my head tells me I'm doing something wrong, but that's crazy right? I'm doing something wrong because my body is still functioning? I wonder if many people feel the same way. It is 3 weeks late which is concerning, but at least it means my bones are okay.

I'm also struggling a lot with food at the moment, I was before anyway, but I'm becoming really fearful again of any food, I'm at the point again where nothing is safe. I felt this way this time last year; food became numbers, numbers became less and less, until no number is good enough, it's all too much. The last few days I've spent in my room because I'm terrified of being in the kitchen alone at the thought that I might "lose control." I can't stand having food in front of me that I might pick at (other than actual meals), so I have to move it otherwise I get really stressed out. The other night I went out and I couldn't explain exactly what I was feeling (I think EUPD kicked in a bit then too), but in hindsight the fact that I was thinking about food and considering ordering some made me feel so disgusted with myself. Yet everything I think about comes back to food. My entire day surrounds when I'm going to have to eat, even now I'm thinking about the soup I have in the fridge which would be the only option that'd not cause significant awful thoughts at dinner. If I'm out with friends I think about when they might eat, and whether or not I can allow myself to have some of theirs, getting honestly so giddy and excited about the thought of having something "forbidden", only to be hit by a feeling of guilt and disgust for considering it. I get so excited when Sam says they want to order something because it gives me something to think about and almost obsess over, and sometimes I have a hint of freedom and have some, but when I'm in bed trying to sleep I think about it more and how I was "weak"

In bed, I think bad things about myself and it's my thoughts (not hearing voices or anything like that) but there's so many thoughts over lapping each eachother. It's so confusing when I'm trying to explain what my mind is saying because it's literally a cacophony of words. It's as if there's people in my head but they're all me, just different versions and they're all really mean. And the weirdest part is, it's all in third person. "You messed up" "you aren't good enough", and the other night, which I don't think was food related, was "you are unnecessary" on repeat. I don't know what that one means, but that word was going round and round my head until I fell asleep.

Sometimes I feel so excessive, not in a dramatic way as such, but just like I'm too much. I say too much, I do too much, I'm scared I say things that others may perceive me as being dramatic. I'm scared that I talk too much about myself, in general and about my mind, especially when it comes to my moods because I haven't yet found the right words to explain them and I feel stupid because what I feel isn't always on surface level so it seems like I'm making things up. Am I making things up? I feel like a really bad person sometimes. I do really want to shrink into a little ball, be quiet and docile, keep things too myself. If I did that then surely I couldn't be too much?

I rely a lot on what other people think of me, so the last point is very important. If something thinks I'm dramatic, overly invested in myself etc, then surely it had to be true because I don't have a real perception of who I am or what I'm like. On a base level I think I'm decent, my honest lack of self awareness or self worth allows me to invest in others and I honestly enjoy doing so, I feel genuine happiness when something I do makes someone happy. Not in a 'martyr' way, I don't place myself on any pedestal at all, but when people around me are happy or even just smile, it makes me happy because I have so much love for my friends and family that their happiness makes me feel happy. And sometimes I feel like my worth is based on how I make others feel. Thinking about that, one of my biggest worries is that I make people close to me feel bad, that I might do something that hurts them and a bigger worry is not knowing I've done so. If I were to do that, and sometimes I think I do, I feel worthless and that I'd be better off leaving or again, shrinking into nothingness so I can't do it again.

I also think my sense of self may be warped because every time I've had a bump in the road or very big dip in recovery, it's as if I become a new person. When I first got ill i strived to be, and became, more socialable, likeable, clever, etc. I enjoyed that, it was a new me and I worried about losing that if I stopped my 'thing' and that I'd lose everyone along side myself. So when I relapsed the first time I guess I almost want the new me back, but a levels were harder than GCSE, so I went the extra mile to try harder to become the "better me". Then when I went too far and was sent to stay with my cousin, I discovered that I could change again, maybe discover a newer new me if I became fit and healthy, maybe then I'd be likeable and clever and maybe care about myself. And for those two weeks I did, my mum said she didn't recognise the girl she sent away 2 weeks prior. In family therapy both parents remarked on their "new Han" (actual words). But when my psychiatrist stopped me and put me under home monitoring, the new me was stumped out before I had a chance to properly reinvent myself for the 3rd time. That was when I became properly suicidal and didn't care for the outcome, I didn't see any means of another reinvention. Which leads me on to this year- what went wrong? Why had this happened again. I know the initial trigger was seeing my weight in April, and it being my highest ever. But every other time I've gotten bad, there's always been a deeper reason. I don't feel new, I just feel like a nuisance, another issue my family and friends have to cope with for the 4th time in 4 years. Unnecessary. Perhaps it was because I wanted to be like 14 year old me, successful in my studies and likeable. I lost most of my friends last year, not necesarily close friends just those who spoke to me once but stopped, and even my best friend who I honestly loved. Why did they go? What did I do? Maybe that was part of the cause of this mess? Reading my diary from the start of this year I talk a lot about losing people I love so I guess so. But at least I'm planning my hopefully last and best ever and healthiest ever reinvention at uni. I don't want to do this again. I didn't mean to let myself get to this point but I'm scared of losing everything if it happens again. I'll do everything to stop this happening again.

I don't think I'm in a very good place right now. Another thought I've been having is along the lines of that my body is a canvas, I've always used it as a means of showing how I feel- ever since I was little I was expressive with my body language and tone of voice, to discovering self harm at age 13-14 as a means of seeing the bad things I felt on my skin for myself, up to trying to make myself "new" when my disorder took hold. But I've never been good with words. I can write, so if I have something important to say I'll write it, but in person I'm not good at talking, especially if it's on the spot advice. At this period of time, my mind is frustrated because I've been trying to use my words to say that I don't feel good, I don't want anyone to help as such, I just want to talk about it sometimes. But my body-canvas doesn't show that I feel poorly, I don't think I look how I feel; I feel as if my words are redundant. I'm trying not to mark my skin with lines for every bad thought I have in the moment, though it's getting harder to resist because my canvas isn't presenting the bad things im feeling and doing. Going back to where I started, getting my period today almost topped that feeling off. Inside I hurt, my body hurts, it's getting hard to climb up stairs without feeling a little dizzy at the top, standing up often makes me go blind for 5 seconds and my legs are bruising. But my body is showing physical signs that I'm fine. It has a cycle, I have the curves I've been cursed with had since I was 10 years old, I can smile.

I know this isn't recovery, not even a half-recovery, but despite this can it be called a relapse if I still care about the end outcome? I disregard this body as something to care for, for me it's a means of expression, that much is true, but I still want to start university next month and start my 4-5th and final recovery. I want to reinvent my body, make it grow strong and physical well, to show the start of my new life. An expression of 'the new me'. Maybe when that happens I'll begin to reclaim the body I'm in. I don't know where I'm going with this, I'm just writing how I feel. This is cathartic, many of the things I'm writing about are things I've never said or even written, or coherently thought about.

This post includes so many words I wish I could say out loud and finally I've been able to write it down. Nothing will come of it and I highly doubt anyone will read this all, it's unimportant, but for me my head is a bit quieter. Often, I sit in silence trying to put words in my mind together like a jigsaw puzzle. Unecessary. Periods. Dizzy. Scared. Excited. Unecessary. New. Shrinking. Unecessary. Canvas. Unwell. So yeah, this is a compilation, not a coherent one, of the things I've been thinking recently and that have been hurting me. Again there's nothing that can be done about it all, but it feels good to finish one jigsaw

[hyperesthesias]

Loki x Sigyn

Love Never Dies | Part II

Rating: E

Words: 2.915

Summary: Jane’s stay on Asgard is not entirely what she had hoped -- Thor gone, Odin less than welcoming, and a cantankerous Loki as her chaperone. But is there a reason for his more-than-usual grouchiness?

Notes: damn this one’s long. sorrynotsorry. anyway i hope you like it. im really loving writing this one. hopefully more will be revealed in the next chapter. even im excited.

The morning on Asgard was rather different -- Jane awoke not with the ebbing light of daybreak through the balcony doors as she might have if she had been on her own homeworld, but it seemed as though the light were insufferable and inescapable. It swallowed everything around her, dampened only by the briefly open curtains around the bed; she reckoned they were placed out of forethought rather than decoration. It took her many moments of lying on her back with her eyes forcefully closed in an attempt to will herself back to sleep before she realised it was futile, and she might as well have been wide awake. It took her even longer to appreciate the fact that though the light from Asgard’s main star was permeating, it was not utterly warm -- like that of the desert Sun in New Mexico, or any number of places she’d visited on Earth. If there was one thing she had learned -- and learnt quickly in her field -- it was that the Sun was a harsh and unforgiving master of the dying earth beneath it. Thus, she lay there for some while, struggling between half awakeness and coherentness, likening that the reasoning was because Asgard took care of its world, of its atmosphere, rather than humans who had quite literally punched a hole through theirs. Hers. Was she so ready to think of herself as separate? Was it arrogance? Or was it something else?

This thought awakened her more than any familiar feeling of astronomy or physics. For it was the branch of a thought seeded deep within her subconscious -- a seed she was neither ready nor willing to exhume. 

Instead, she buried it deeper in the soil of her thoughts and pushed herself out of the bed she’d been given graciously by the Queen Frigga, Thor’s mother. She smiled at the relation -- they were so similar in appearance, and yet they seemed so opposite in personal likeness. She considered it sweet, endearing, that he was capable of such faithful love despite differences. Even grave differences.

She found a frown on her face when her thoughts turned to his dark haired brother, Loki, who resided in the suite beside hers. She had been given the suite in between the brothers. Jane had asked the Queen if the space had already existed between them, or if something had been rearranged -- for she would have felt horribly guilty had been the latter. But much to her relief, and somewhat expectancy, the gap had remained. She explained the brothers’ fighting was insufferable, nearly audible through the whole royal wing of palace if they were not separated, thus, their suites had been adjusted. Frigga had to decide who moved and who stayed, for they fought over that too, she revealed. 

Jane felt a pitiful grin emerge over her as she dressed herself and readied herself for the day -- pausing in uncertainty of what to do with herself whilst Thor was away on Odin’s convenient ‘peace-keeping’ mission. Nonetheless, she would attend breakfast as she did the day prior and hope for the best. 

She remembered the way to the breakfast room with ease, quickly strolling down the long hallways as she came to it, where she was dismally surprised to see Loki already seated and eating. 

“Ah, look who decided to partake,” his insults began. 

“Good morning,” she grumbled back, deciding not to hide the equal amount of bitterness -- bitterness if only to hide the confusion of how or what to feel or do around him. “You’re up early.”

“I’m an early riser,” he mused as he sipped something warm from a mug.

“More like an insomniac -- I heard you tossing last night,” she sighed and sat down, at the place she’d taken the day before, tossing a glance at him all the way at the other end of the table.

He only pursed his lips. “Perhaps you should be more selective in your hearing.” 

“And maybe you should try some tea or warm milk,” it was half sarcasm, half actual suggestion, as she was surprised by a servant who brought her plate.

“I doubt such trivial things will be of help,” he muttered, cursing himself after he spoke that he had revealed her to be correct in her assumption.

She watched his expression draw and grow dark as he ceased his meal and placed a thumb to his lips, his eyes unmoving and pensive. “Nightmares?” she assumed -- only because she recalled her own demeanour to be similar after her own experience with Malekith and the Aether; the fear it begot stirring in her nightmarish and strange dreams that had yet to cease.

“Careful, girl -- you know not of what you speak,” he snapped, his eyes the only things about him to move as they landed on her with prejudice. 

She quickly bit her tongue, trying to hide the fear of what he might do -- frightened that she had irreparably offended him in someway and she would yet face retribution. 

But she did not hide it well enough, and he saw the fear on her -- he smelt it on her, untamed and wild, he could recognise it anywhere, if only by empathy. He drew a sharp breath, feeling the grit of guilt on his teeth for having being short with her -- she was young, innocent, unknowing of the burden he bore, unknowing of her hand in worsening it. And altogether he could hear Sigyn’s quiet, soothing voice brush against his ear:

‘She cannot help her limitations, be kind, my love. Be kind.’

A heavy respire brought round bother her attention and his words back to him: “I have been deemed by Odin to accompany you throughout the palace,” he began, refusing to look at her, instead at the half eaten plate beneath him. “You are not to attend anywhere I am not, you are not to speak to any one I do not deem necessary, you are not to wander from, pester, or otherwise interfere with me or those around you.”

She tried -- for Thor’s sake -- not to take too personally his tone or his words, but at least they hadn’t come with as much spite. “So you’re...my babysitter?” she concluded, unsure if that had been an insult to Loki or her by Odin.

“Think of me as more of a...cultural liaison,” he motioned, and made the mistake of looking up at her -- briefly taken aback at the way the morning’s light struck her, they way her eyes seemed to be...on fire. He saw in that moment, not Jane, the Midgardian, but Sigyn, the Queen and Guardian of Nashtar, the Forest Realm. His wife, his love, his everything. 

But the image was abruptly taken from him as reality merged with the fictitious image in all but a second and he was along again. He tore his sights from her once more and placed them at the plate before him, having yet to take a bite.

“‘Cultural liaison’,” she repeated with a note of scepticism. “You realise there has to be some form of culture involved in order for that to work, right?”

He huffed at her persistence, but agreed nonetheless. “I assure you, I will not bore you senseless. I am certain there is something in these walls which will pique your interest,” he waved a hand vaguely. “That’s not to say I can think of anything at the moment, but...” 

She rolled her eyes. “Well, why don’t you show me what you like to do, or where you like to go?”

He paused, recalling his usual visiting places, and eliminated both those of illegality and danger, and came to a few conclusions off hand. “Very well.” 

She hadn’t been entirely sure whether she’d sealed a fate of doom or pleasure in her suggestion, but the one thought she had come to was: for being such a notorious silver-tongue he had hardly spoken a word to her the rest of the day -- or even looked at her for that matter. They’d been to the library, where she confessed an illiteracy to Asgardian, but a familiarity with Norse -- where Loki then supplied her with several children’s books, but she had whether to figure it a jab or a usefulness. They went to the music room where she witnessed instruments she had never imagined, and some rather familiar, studying frequencies, jotting notes when she could to compare to other notes when she returned. And he had yet to take her to a garden, though he had not specified what kind. 

Though, with every step alongside his, she was wary of perhaps setting him off into a frenzy in which he would snap at her again -- or worse. For she held two conflicting images of the man in her head: a vicious monster, who wrought naught but destruction, and self-sacrificing protector. Yet, with every word, she felt it necessary to decipher which was speaking.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning her with a finger as he stood outside his suite. 

She stood away from him, nearer her own door, where she furrowed her brow, suspicious of his motives in his invitation. 

“Oh for the sake of Valhalla -- I will not hurt you, now come here,” he said more sternly, unable to hide his frustration. 

She looked around, seeing the guards posted nearby -- they did nothing to make her suspect of his meaning, they did not stop him or even look at them. And she reassured herself that Darcy had lent her a TASER for the trip which she carried everywhere -- that if need be, she would use it. Thus, she obeyed, and approached him.

He opened the door to his suite, never relaying his regret that she should fear him so at all, and ushered her inside. Following behind her, he was quick to admonish preemptively: “Do not touch anything.” 

She had no intention, her hands where in the folds of her clothes, one hand on the TASER, the other on her stomach. But her fear did not allay her curiosity, and she found her eyes wandering to the state of his suite:

An organised mess. She could tell it had once been organised, it once was home to order, but had been recently thrust into chaos. The outer room was home to a lounge, hardly used for leisure, nearly pristine, save for the papers and clothes that piled atop it; a chest of drawers with a few drawers lightly open here and there as though he frequently rushed through them, and a desk with a hutch, the most organised space of all: as though he used it all the time. On it sat a mechanical device of some sort, at which she squinted -- she had never seen anything like it. Parts and pieces lay in columns all along the desk, with blueprints, hand drawn, beneath it all. But before she could make out what, precisely, it was he had been building, she was scolded from farther along the room: 

“It is impolite to spy on another’s belongings,” Loki droned, and stood beside a pair of open balcony doors.

She hurried along, grabbing one last glance at the desk’s contents before she hurried to him. “I’m sorry I -- just...” she looked up at him, where she caught his direct eye, under which she felt so very, very small. Thor towered over her, and yet she never felt small beneath his gaze, yet Loki seemed to loom uneasily: she felt very much akin to prey beneath the death stare of a hunter. Yet, he did not strike, he did not chastise, he did not scold, he did nothing, but turn away. 

In truth, had he held her gaze any longer, he felt he would not be able to keep up his facade, thus it had been easier to walk away with his stern and unforgiving exterior intact than risk it altogether. But he spoke nothing of this, and instead introduced her to the garden, his garden:

“I planted all of these,” he stated, unable to obscure the sound of pride from his voice as he stepped among the flowers and plants and trees. “I planted this one when I was a boy,” he smiled, craning his neck to see far above them where a tree lofted above the rest of the garden. 

Jane’s mouth gaped open. “It’s enormous! It must be so old -- I mean -- not that I mean...what I meant was...”

He only eyed her with his neck still lifted. “You are correct, it is two and a half millenia old -- far older than you will ever be.” 

Her mouth closed and her shoulders sank. “Right.”

“Which begs the question, why Thor would bother with a woman whose life is so fleeting -- and even more than that,” he turned, his hands clasped behind him, “why you would allow him to.”

Now that he spoke to her directly, she found she much preferred when he did not. Berated and belittled, she fumbled for her words, to justify herself to him -- a potential brother in law, if all were honest. “We...We are in love,” she took a step back out of offence. “Love is much more than...how many years one has together -- it’s about...being with that person completely when you have them,” she respired when she found the truth expelled itself from her.

Her words stung him -- far more than he had anticipated. He felt a small gasp in his lungs when she spoke and it was his turn to find his footing. “Foolish girl,” was all he could muster. “You know not the pain you will cause him. You will age, and he will not, and whilst he is cursed to the land of the living, you will be withering away until there is naught left of you but the deathbed that becomes his arms and last words are stolen by breaths full of regret!” he found he nearly lost his composure as he closed his words, and he knew it was not Thor and Jane he spoke of, but of Sigyn. The woman whose name was forbidden.

At first his harsh and unending words brought a stinging to her eyes, where she had half the mind to leave him and barricade herself in her room for the rest of the time Thor was gone. But then he turned away, a sharp exhale escaping him -- one she was not meant to hear -- and a pursing of his lips and a furrowing of his brow full of pain and not foresight but experience. And she realised all at once he spoke not of her, but of someone else. Someone he had once loved.

There was a lingering silence between them as he turned his back on her, yet unseeing to the plants before him, and she stared at him, suddenly understanding the bitterness, the coldness, the anger --

“How did she die?” she finally asked.

He briefly lifted his head, and his shoulder raised as he drew a breath. “She was murdered,” he answered, honestly for once, before he turned and looked her in the eye: “By one of your kind.”

Sense upon sense seemed to be poured over all his prior actions and his words, and she swallowed as she nodded. “That’s why you hate Midgard.”

He became quiet again, licking his lips. “Mostly.”

“I’m sorry...” she whispered, speaking from sincerity, extending her heart to him.

This surprised him and he drew back somewhat, straightening himself, before he turned from her again. “There’s nothing to be done about it.”

That, however, was a lie.

She had the mind to ask another question, but started when there came a rustling from deeper within the garden. “Is someone here?” she felt her hand go once more to her TASER.

“There should not be,” he replied, cocking his head curiously to the sound, when a gentle smile washed over him when its origin revealed itself. His shoulders relaxed, his face untensed, his entire being seemed to be at peace when there emerged from the foliage a deer-like creature from the hiding place. 

“A deer?” Jane let go of the weapon as she found herself smiling as well. 

“Indeed -- I rescued her,” he boasted, proud of such an innocent accomplishment. “Thor and his hunting party had her in their sights some while ago, I stopped them.”

While she appreciated the sentiment, she didn’t understand. “Why? Are you...vegan or...the Asgardian vegan-equivalent?” she felt embarrassed asking, uncertain the customs, neither the rituals. 

He only gave her a puzzling look, before he returned his sights to the doe and the rustling bush behind her. “I do not know what that is, but...” he motioned a hand to the bush. “That is why.”

Out followed the doe a young fawn, surely just a week old.

“She was with fawn, thus, I rescued her. Gave her a place f safety in which to rest and nurse her young,” he continued.

There spoke the self-sacrificer, the protector. 

She quietly approached, coming beside him as they watched the creatures investigate the greenery. “She’s beautiful.” 

His smile widened as he gazed at the doe. “Yes, she is.”

“What’s her name?” she asked, glancing from the deer to Loki.

A breath. And a pause. But he did not break his sights. “Sigyn. Her name was Sigyn.”