#it still has start up issues and as far as i can find a reset is my best bet

[lovely-english-rose]

aaaaalrighty, take one billion lets see if i can reset my laptop, while i wait and see if that does anything i will bury my woes with feem bleem

[obsessive-valentine]

What if when farmer takes his monthly shopping spree with reader stuck sitting in the car they decide that they’re close enough to others to finally escape or tell someone about their situation with farmer.

Escape - Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

Content waning! This isn’t one of my usual soft yans -A lot of threats, gaslighting, acts of and -even more thoughts of- violence and murder. Our usually stoic farmer has reached his wits end when his anger issues are triggered once again and he’ll be sure darling won’t have the gall or means to even think of doing such a thing ever again.

He’d try not to escalate the situation if he didn’t have to but he is capable of murdering your wanna be saviour if it comes down to it, then hiding the body in the pick up truck bed till he gets home to feed it to the dogs.

He tries to contain his anger on the car ride back, until he can put darling away in the shed and have a day or two to reset and calm down, then he goes into victim blaming, fear mongering and gaslight mode to scare darling back in place and will continue doing this for a few days until darling is sure to not even think of such an act again.

Even though there’s no way for them to escape now since he refuses to take darling with him into town for a long long time, instead he locks them in the shed when he has to go into a town.

-fic under the cut -

...

He’d warned you that afternoon before you both got in the old pick-up truck “you’re not to leave the truck, you hear me? If I see you so much as to look out the window to another person there will be hell to pay” he locked the front door of the house and you nodded to yourself. You weren’t sure if you should be exited or nervous, you weren’t sure you wanted to go at all.

Part of you excited to see a town and real people, you’d been isolated with just animals and a kidnapper for so long you’d long given up hope of living a mundane small town life. But all this raised another problem, the temptation to escape. You’d be trapped in the truck alone for some time so you must be able to escape at some point, but if that fails, you’d hate to think what he’d do to you. He has a nasty temper.

Most the ride was landscapes and bumpy roads, you knew it’s impossible to walk all this way but you’ve thought about it before, you’d run as far as you could and then lay down on one of the country roads when you get to exhausted and hope someone (other than him) finds you. But you’d never get passed the dogs, it was still devastating to be reminded how far from the towns you were.

The closer to the town you both got houses started popping up, quaint little cottages with pretty little gardens and fences. You day dreamed what it would be like to live there with a loving husband and a happy little family, maybe you’d keep chickens in the back and drive into town for work in a flower shop or small caffe.

You stopped yourself before you became to attached to a life that not yours to live, instead you continued to toss around the idea of escaping, running through dozens of possibilities and outcomes. Still unsure if you’d have the gall to follow through with any of them.

...

The sky was getting dim by the time town houses began popping up, the town is quieter than it would have been in the afternoon. Though you presume that’s what your kidnapper wanted, you’d gathered that he’s pretty antisocial. But some people were out. You felt the atmosphere in the truck get tense the further into town you both got and remember his warnings, so you kept your head down and listened to the radio instead.

He pulled into a quiet parking lot in and he parked in a far corner, he unbuckled his seat belt and for a moment you thought he was just going to leave without another word. But he turned to you, the most serious you’ve seen him “do you want anything?” The question caught you off guard and sat like a gaping fish for a second.

You blurted out one of your favourite sweets. Maybe you could get him to spend more time in there looking for it, giving you more time to escape. He nodded like he was taking a mental note, and then as if he could read your mind he said “I’ll be quicker than you think, be good” he seemed to search your eyes for something before hesitatingly locking the door and walking away.

You watched him enter the shop and immediately tried the door handle even though you heard him lock the car, it’s one of those old pick-ups with a separate key for the door so there was no other way to unlock them. Then you began rummaging through the draws and pockets for anything that could help, maybe a phone, a spare key to the door or engine maybe something capable of breaking the window. It was far fetched and knew you wouldn’t find anything but you’d regret it if you didn’t try.

At some point you refocused your attention, you needed to have someone help you. Finally a person left the store and almost got in their car until they heard your yelling and banging on the window. Your voice was muffled by the glass, so they started to hurry over closer to the car but suddenly stops walking and turns their head away. You follow their gaze and there stands you kidnapper.

He’s smiling at him carrying a few bags, you can’t catch what he’s saying but he seems to be explaining an excuse. You must have misjudged the time, there’s no working clocks or watches in the car so between you loosing track of time and him being a fast shopper, he’s caught you out. And you’ve never felt so sick as the blood drained from your face.

He walks closer to the truck and places the bags in the back before pulling the tarp over the bed, they continue talking but the person doesn’t seem convinced by whatever words he’s muttering. Hope still lingers but fear and regret is quickly taking over, making you shake and nauseous.

“Look it’s nice to meet you but we really need to get home” your kidnapper smilies while he opens the door, it’s so fake it makes you cringe, he’s never sounded to polite or looked so friendly. You want to shout out for help but the door shuts -and before you can process what’s happening you hear a click and a pocket knife is pressed to your thigh.

“Smile and wave at him before we leave or i slice these pretty thighs open” he growls through his teeth, using the other hand to turn on the engine and put the truck in gear. You feel the knife dig into your thigh harder “go on then, look happy -or I stop this car, kill your little saviour and take the back to the farm and give the dogs a little treat, the bloods on your hands honey” the knife drags an inch...he’s loosing his patience.

You’re out witted and out muscled. You’re sure that you and that innocent person will be dead within the hour if you didn’t give him what he wanted. You give a weak little wave and forced tight lipped smile, they seem reassured by the gesture and hesitantly walks back to their car after your kidnapper gave them another little wave. A fair well. There goes your saviour. “Good choice” he’s fuming still but withdraws the knife and races out of town back on the country roads.

A few drops of blood trickles off your thigh and onto the seat, and you begin to feel the sting after a few minutes of shock. It’s deathly silent, you see his hands grip the steering wheel turning his fingertips white and palms make the leather creak when he readjusts his tight grip.

He wasn’t one to be quiet when he’s angry, he’s usually very verbal when he’s angry and quiet when he’s content. You spent so many weeks studying his behaviour and facial expressions -to predict him -and now you’re as confused and afraid as the first time you met him. You’d never seen him act like this.

You didn’t dare speak first, instead you watched the town disappear from the corner of your eye as you stared at the footwell like a guilty dog. You didn’t dare move a muscle keeping rigidly still, gripping the leather seat beneath you.

He dragged a hand down his face, before letting go of a frustrated sigh. He was struggling to keep focused on the now bumpy country roads, he felt his burning anger in every inch of his body. “You had to go ruin all that progress, i was foolish for believing you knew your place? hu?” He spoke low, you could hear the snarl and imagined his crazed eyes. You still couldn’t lift your sorrowful gaze from the footwell, so you couldn’t confirm that.

“ANSWER ME YOU BRAT!” You flinched and your heart felt like it stopped for a moment before starting again at a much faster rate “ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?! IT FUCKING SEEMS LIKE IT” you knew what he meant, he’s a slave to his temper and there’s a possibility you could fall victim to it -no matter how many times you try console yourself that he’s held himself back from harming you physically many times before.

“-I’m sorry” was all you could choke out, your not sure anything you say would calm him down -it would likely make his temper worse. He went quiet once again, acknowledging the apology with a slight nod and a heavy huff. He tried to contain himself during the rest of the ride back, but the tension was thick and his anger still yet to die down even a bit. His hands still heavy on the wheel, the hour journey was cut almost in half with how he was speeding, and occasionally he’d shoot degrading comments.

He needed to get home, he needed space and time to process what you’d done. He’s utterly fuming with rage but not hate, that’s what was saving you from him pulling over the car and violently ‘correcting’ you right there, he had to remind himself that he’d regret hurting you, that he still loves you.

...

The car was haphazardly parked in the dirt drive next to the house and he, without a word, left the car and slammed the door. A few dogs came over to investigate and greet their owners but it seemed even the dogs could sense the tension and kept their distance and stopped wagging their tails. They were there to witness him storm around the front of the car and swing your door open.

“Get out” his tone threatening as he glared down at you, you struggled to unbuckle your belt, your fingers shaking. You stumbled out the car when your legs failed you, they felt like jelly. He slammed the door before taking your wrist firmly in his hand before pulling you behind him, he’s walking so such pace and intent -paired with your jelly like legs- that you stumbled a few more times.

You caught on pretty quick that it was the shed that you both were headed to. “I’d asked one thing of you, well you’ve really fucked yourself over now darlin’” dread clouded your rational thinking, your steps faltered and in instinctively tried pulling your arm away as you pleaded with him.

He didn’t even glance back at you, instead replied with a harsh pull on your wrist -he continued storming towards the shed. He ignored his as he unlocked the chains and pulled the wooden latch, he gave no sympathy as he pushed you into the shed, then showed no hesitance as he shut the door.

“You better get used to this shed, I’ll leave you in there forever if that what it takes to teach you” you could hear his temper unraveling, uncontrollable hate dripping from his words. The locks all slid into place and he left. Leaving you in the dark, sitting on a generous layer of hay, in tears and regret.

Light only source of comfort was the dim light of the evening creeping through the wood cracks and the occasional dog coming over shoving their wet nose against the door, sniffing for you, wondering why you’re in there. But even that faded as the day went on, the light disappeared with the sun and most the dogs sleeping on the covered porch and barn or guarding the livestock. One or two slept outside the shed it it was little comfort when you couldn’t see, hear or feel them.

Instead the shed turned pitch black you could have sworn your eyes were closed, the darkness brought bitter cold and goosebumps. The bugs in the hay crawled around sometimes tickling your leg, you’d grown used to bug having been on the farm for a while but this brought great discomfort due to the fact you could no longer see where or what was crawling around.

You kept reminding yourself that any minute now he’d be back, that how it went the other times you found yourself here. He’d leave you in the shed for a few hours then return usually before midnight to give you a calm ultimatum, he’d still be angry but willing to work through it with you.

Hope began to fade as what felt like hours passed, your toes and fingers became numb so you pushed them into the bug infested hay for some warmth to stop the burning cold. Eyelids grew heavy from exhaustion and burned from the crying. You’re sure you’ve never been left in here for this long but held onto hope that it was just bad time perception from the exhaustion. You went from preparing yourself for when he returned to desperately hoping your kidnapper would return.

All hope left after you’d blinked awake from a uncomfortable short nap to find yourself still in the shed. You pressed you’re face against the shed and peered through the crack to see the sky turn from black to a dark blue. It was almost dawn, you’d entered at dusk and been left here all night. Legs stung from bug bites, fingers and toes ached from the cold, everything itched from the cold, eyes and ears ached from the dark and deafening silence.

...

He’d left you in the shed without looking back and stormed into the house, he’d allowed his anger to boil over now you were out of grasp. The door slammed shut as he dropped his keys on the small table in the entry way, only to then letting his intrusive anger win and swipe everything off the table after seeing some of your items left there. Your items -one being a beloved pan of paint you’d left there after coming inside after painting the landscapes outside, his keys and a decorative pot now lay on the floor, he stepped over most while some others crunched under his heavy boots.

He stormed into the living room and shrugged off his jacket leaving it on the floor, he lit a cigarette and paced the room. For most of the evening he paced, ranted-shouted, smoked and shoved items that reminded him of you onto the floor or out of view. He even put a few fist holes in the walls and considered taking his hunting gun out to blow of some steam but decided it’s not best to hold a gun when he’s angry and around you.

He settled down in the night on the sofa with the tv muttering in the background as he stared into nothingness, taking a drag from one of many cigarettes. Finally his temper under control, finally he could think clearly... for the most part. How stupid he feels for trusting you, obviously you need more structure and punishment,

Much like you he didn’t sleep much, at some point in early ams he left the house back to the truck to bring in the shopping having nothing better to do. He was forced to walk through the house that he’d wrecked, there was one of your favourite painting pallets cracked on the floor, the vase of flowers you picked dumped out in the sink and some of his own stuff that he’d dumped or kicked in odd places while he paced.

He didn’t feel bad about breaking what little marks, through decor and personal items, you’d left in his house during the few months you’d been here, but rather disappointed in himself that he let his anger blind him.

That night was odd for him, it’s been a while since he was completely alone at night. And while his past self loved being isolated, he realised that he changed because of you. He found the quiet unsettling, and had to self-sooth and remind himself that you were just outside, that you weren’t some dream or temporary part of his life.

By the time morning came most anger had cleared, his jaw still felt tense and so with his furrowed brows and stiff posture. But as much as he hate to admit it at the risk of sounding dependant, being separated for the night and the thought of you not being around had forced him into forgiving you. He no longer kept you in the shed out of anger and inability to look at you without wanting to cause hurt, but now it was to teach you a lesson, so maybe in the future he won’t have to do it again... so he won’t loose you.

He spent the morning cleaning the mess, putting aside your cracked pan of paint to fix later when you’ve earned it back and dumping out the cigarette tray -after being reminded of how many he went through he made a mental note to lay off them for a few days to make up for it.

He let the whole day pass, now and then staring out a window at the shed tossing around the idea of letting you out. Be deciding he wasn’t ready, the last thing he wants is to open the door and re-ignite his anger. By the evening he put aside his grudge and chose not to let you bare another night in the cold. (But really he can’t bare another night alone)

...

You began to worry when the sun got low again, your stomach ached from hunger, you had a bat case of cotton mouth from thirst and stress, you’d also began biting your nails and your heart would pick up the pace randomly along with waves of dread and anxiety.

The bug bites itched and everything ached from staying in one place for over 24hours, you went as cold as last night but you knew the temperatures were going to drop once again and soon.

You hear the sound of his heavy boot crunch closer and closer. Your heart races again, your eyes wide as saucers and staying still as can so your ears can pick up any noise. You’d been begging for him to come back, hoping and crying but now he’s here you can’t help but dread it, wishing you had a minute more to compose yourself.

But beggars can’t be choosers, the chain rattles then the wooden latch is lifted and there infront of you is your kidnapper “you going to behave?” His voice is hoarse and seem tired by his tone, you can’t really see his face to confirm, he’s backlit and the light is hard on your eyes despite the sun being low. But you can imagine the bags and deep scowl.

You squint and desperately nod “I’m sorry -please” overwhelming feelings make you tear up again -your voice also sore and a stuffed nose from the crying messes up the delivery of the general apology/plea, but he seems to understand. “Do you understand what you’ve done? How you’ve put everything back to square one -no, into the negatives, you’re going to have to earn everything back because of one idiotic decision, understand?” He stands tense in the doorway looking down on you, so very belittling. He offers no sign of sympathy for your tears, bruises or fear.

But anything to get out of here “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, please I promise... please” he didn’t reply but just looked over you before scooping you up and taking you back to the house. As much as he frightened you and he was scarily quiet, you found comfort in his arms.

“Actions have consequences, when I need to go into town you’ll be locked in the shed, you can’t be trusted to control basic urges so I simply won’t give you the opportunity to fuck up” he begins as he enters the house, your gut twists at the thought of being locked in the shed again. “Please don’t, I’m sorry I don’t wa-“ he stops walking and your pleads are cut off

“I don’t care what you fucking want” his voice began to rise but he catches himself and huffs “you made your choice now live with it” he says with more control, he’s to exhausted to argue. He makes his way into the bathroom and sets you down on a counter as he runs a bath.

He beckons you to strip and get in the bath, you do just that and the hot water burns against your cold limbs, he sat down beside the tub and grabbed your face not gently but no where near as hard as he could “I would have killed that saviour of yours then make you live in that shed till your nothing but a husk of a person, is that what you want?” Your eyes widened and shook your head, when your words caught in your throat.

“I thought not” he lets go and you quickly avert your eyes, like making eye contact with a wolf, it’s certain doom. “This is merciful, you will be in the shed uncomfortable now and then, and no leaving the farm. I’m angry, disappointed and won’t be giving everything to you on a golden platter anymore but you can earn back trust, we can get back to where we were”

You sit uncomfortably, and you want to laugh at the ‘merciful’ statement. “You won’t make such a silly mistake again. You’ll listen to me from now on, won’t ya darling? You don’t want to get yourself or anyone else hurt do ya?” His hand that rested on your shoulder now unnervingly grips it but losses when you reply in favour for him.

He lays off the threats and fear mongering for the rest of the night. Once tense and quiet as he tried to control his anger issues he now is calmly quiet. He lets you eat before putting you to bed, he’s unusually close throughout the night, whereas he usually keeps his own space.

One arm lays over you and every time you shuffle he does too, waking up a bit and making sure your still there, not causing trouble. Just like how he acted when you first were kidnapped, it’s back to the start, no dignity, and a shit ton of emotional manipulation.

[sysmedsaresexist]

To the anon asking about my username...

There's a bit of confusion here, I'm going to answer many of your questions but I may not post the ask itself, hopefully it'll make sense :)

When I started my blog I was heavily anti endo and I specifically posted bad pro/endo takes, debunking or just laughing. To this day, most of it is still pretty hilarious. I wasn't focused on cringe, but totally crazy, out there claims that made zero sense and were flat out wrong. Check out my tags #shit endos say, #shit singlets say, and my newest tag, #shit anti endos say, I hope you have a laugh at a couple of them.

In my pinned post, you'll see the thing that started it all. A pro endo saying that sysmeds are sexist.

I would also like to know how they came to that conclusion. I'm right there with you. Also like you, I still have many issues with the pro/endo community. I believe CDDs are trauma based disorders. I post research pretty much weekly about it (check out #debunk and #research). I think endogenic plurality and CDDs are completely different things.

And you know what, my pro endo friends support me. We're all learning. I'm kind with my opinion, I'm open to talking about it, we debate, we share resources, we change our views and adjust based on new info.

This blog corrects misinformation from both sides, now. Some of it is worse than others. Antis can and do spread just as much misinformation as pro/endos.

What I would encourage you to do is start with the multiple selves theory. It actually developed right alongside Freud's theories on hysteria (which included early versions of CDDs at the time), and if Freud hadn't been such a perv, it might actually be much more well-known. It's a nonpathological theory on consciousness and philosophy. People have been describing this phenomenon for a very long time, "endogenic" is just the newest term for it. Here's a couple examples.

2015 - at any given moment in time, one or another of our subselves is in control and determines how we think and act.

1987

2012 - this one has so many links to other people talking about this theory

2023 - These results suggest that the normative principles by which agents have adapted to complex changing environments may also explain why humans have long been described as consisting of “multiple selves.”

2020

2010

Like I said, though, you can find this stuff as far back as the 50s with ease, anything older might take a bit more digging, but it's not a small or new theory.

I think an overlap in language has created a lot of confusion, but it's really not out of the realm of possibility for people to be more in tune with these parts of themselves. It's been documented for over a century outside of psychology, in other areas of research-- anthropology, philosophy.

I'm going to be honest, I don't think a single one of the headmate sale blogs are real. I think they're antis trying to start shit. Like maybe one out of every ten is actually someone misguided behind the screen.

Even CDD systems still incorrectly believe in core theory, endogenics picked it up from us and don't know any better. System resets aren't real, but there are real experiences that can FEEL like a reset-- try being patient and educating people. Ignore the others, because some people just can't be helped, and you're better off spending your time spreading good, accurate posts than arguing with people who don't want to learn anything.

I forget what I was saying.

Anyways, I'm a pro endo sysmed.

I hope you'll stick around and see what's going on.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): The Composer [28]

My favorite analogy to use in times of uncertainty comes from my dad. He once told me, "We're just two little frogs on a lone lily pad, floating down some hidden bayou in the swamps of New Orleans, Ducks. And that's okay, because at least we have each other."

It stuck with me throughout most of my life. When the depression was really rough, when the anxiety hit its peak, I'd scribble that line in notebooks. In pencil on my walls, erase the words when I felt whole again. Etch it onto my arm in pen, then scrub away at my skin for hours in the shower that same night.

For that reason, I feel like we can attach ourselves not only to people, but to words too. Which is why I find myself debating going and writing those words again and again and again in the emptiness of my apartment.

The week leading up to Ash's departure to Anaheim flew by. She and I unpacked, organized, and lazed about our home without seeing Sal, Larry, Todd, or Neil all that much.

That was fine, she and I preferred to figure things out on our own anyway.

The issue came with the moment Ash left in the early morning on Friday, after we'd had Sal and Larry over the night before.

I was left to my own devices, which meant all I could do was think about how much I've been drowning in myself. For months.

What's weighed on me most is Sal. I was never supposed to like him— it was never supposed to be more than simple attraction. I feel like I've failed myself and dragged Sal into something he wants nothing to do with. Feeling this way seems so cruel. He's his own person, he has his own shit to deal with. Why did I let it get this far?

For the entire day, I've sat here and told myself— scolded myself— that I need to calm things down and I need to get over this. Not just for me, but for him. Situationships, friends with benefits... those types of things do not end in relationships. They don't turn into happily ever afters. Me and Sal are nothing alike— I wouldn't even dare consider a relationship but if my feelings go far enough, I just might start to.

There needs to be some separation for myself. I need to put some distance, but I just don't want to. I genuinely like being around him.

Oh, this is such a clusterfuck.

I lay on me and Ash's couch, staring out of the huge windows that lead to the balcony as the sun goes down. It's evening. The silence is loud around me, messes with my senses. I keep thinking I see things out of the corner of my eye and every creak or crack of people moving around above or below me sets my heart racing.

Ash informed me that she'd be back by tomorrow morning, which is fine. I streamed for a few hours, ate dinner, then did some shopping to snuff out my Sal-centered thoughts, and then the unsettling quiet. I just didn't realize how anxious I'd get about being here alone once the moon took the sun's place in the sky. 

It's not my first time being alone. When I lived with dad, I was alone most of the time. But this apartment is still unfamiliar to me. Being in a new place that doesn't quite feel like a home yet is perturbing. 

The sky grows a little too dark for my liking, so I grab the remote and turn on the TV, flinching when the volume startles me. Anything to suffocate the silence that lurks around the dark corners of this room though.

I glance over my shoulder, making eye contact with the dark hallway that looks back at me. Shadows dance around the edges of the vignette, mocking my fear. I'm worried that if I watch for too long, I may really see something staring back.

And I thought my tiny, barely there feelings for Sal were scary. All that needs to be done to reset my mind is put me in an empty room, I guess.

Turning my gaze back to the TV, I try to focus on The Crow. All the gothic notes and emotional aspects try to distract me... but I quickly learn that even my favorite movie and Brandon Lee's ethereal beauty can't steal me from reality.

I'm restless. I can't stay here a moment longer.

Sighing, I sit up and gaze at the hardwood floor. Dad's not home-- I could go back to my old apartment, but that's a fifteen minute drive. That's a last resort. I would go to Todd and Neil's, but they're over in San Francisco to watch Todd's favorite musical. 

That leaves me with Larry. 

Can I bear to be in Sal's presence with all the turmoil in my head? I don't know, but I can't figure it out until I try. Not to mention, knowing him, he'll be locked up in his room anyway.

Me and Sal's conversation last week made me feel a bit more secure. I know things can continue the way they have been and I don't have to worry about anything else, I just have to work on getting past exactly how much I feel now. The fact that we had to had to have that conversation at all is embarrassing-- even if he told me that it was okay. It feels so stupid to me now that it's all over. It feels even more ridiculous that I apparently haven't learned a thing and still want to put distance between us.

I stand up and grab my keys from the kitchen counter before shutting off the TV. Then, I'm out the front door like a bat out of hell. The quiet was overpowering me-- having such a big place is so eerie when it's just me.

In my diluted panic, I make it to Sal and Larry's apartment in record time-- hoping and praying that they'll let me stay.

I pick up my pace once I reach their floor, bounding up to the door and knocking. Each corner feels like it's leering, hiding evil that lurks everywhere I go. It's unbearable and I just can't be alone.

That, or maybe some depraved part of me just wants to Sal.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I tap my foot against the carpeted floor and try to pretend that I've got it together. I do anything to get rid of the adrenaline rushing through me. Readjust my mask, pick at invisible lint on my shirt, crack all of my fingers, look up and down both sides of the hallway stretching around me. It feels like I wait for hours even though it's merely seconds until the door opens.

My eyes snap upward, gazing into the eyeholes of Sal's prosthetic. He holds it against his face with a hand, the straps dangling at the sides. It's clear I've caught him off guard.

"Vi?" He asks, tone suggesting he's both confused and alert by my sudden presence. I watch him glance down the hallway the same way I just did. 

When he looks back at me, he has an eyebrow raised inquisitively. 

"Uh," I choke out, remembering that I kind of have to tell him why I'm here. "Is Larry here? I wanted to hang out. The, um, silence is... loud." I rush to explain myself, knowing full well that I don't have to explain myself to anyone.

But Sal looks like he gets it though, his gaze softening in understanding as the words leave me. 

"Larry isn't here," He tells me forthright. My heart drops at the news. "He went to Anaheim with Ash. Didn't she tell you?"

I hum bashfully, embarrassed at myself and the circumstances as I shake my head.

"Sorry for bothering," I say with a sigh, trying to hype myself up to brave the quietude and darkness.

A beat of tense silence passes between us as I build up the mental strength, already feeling like I'm rotting in the lonely apartment back upstairs. 

Then, Sal mutters, "You can stay if you want, so long as you don't mind me practicing. And don't make me regret inviting you in."

I watch him watch me, both of us hesitant and unsure. But what's more unbearable than being around him (which hasn't been all too bad lately) is being alone.

I clear my throat lightly then look down at my feet, nodding. "Okay, thanks."

I may come to regret this.

Sal leads me into the apartment, his slightly taller figure blurring as I take in the living room and kitchen I helped unpack just a week ago now. To replace all the boxes and uncertainty is a kind of clean organization that I just know Larry had nothing to do with.

Sal spruced up. It's orderly, uncluttered, and so him. It works because Larry isn't much different.

The climbing living room walls have various band, tour, and festival posters, records, guitars, a bass, signed drum covers. It's a metal-head's dream. There's just a little touch that screams 'this-is-the-house-of-a-streamer,' which happens to be the multi-colored LED's on the ceiling. But I'll give them a pass for that one.

Regardless, it's nice. And the kitchen, while not completely decked out, is doctor's office-level pristine.

I purse my lips, feeling a little apprehensive. This might be the first time Sal and I have been in each other's presence without a plan for sex or something related to it. We're just... hanging out. It's weird, but I'm desperate enough to put up with it at this point. 

Sal's out of my way already, settled on one of the black sofa's with his flashy red guitar nestled on his lap and a laptop in front of him. Oh, and the prosthetic is gone.

My eyes train onto his pretty face. With all of this moving, I've hardly been able to see it. As crazy as it is, it's kind of been killing me. This recent revelation of mine has led to this insatiable urge to look at him constantly. I thought it was bad before, when this was all just a meaningless crush, but now...

I swallow past my raging thoughts. I've had enough to think about today.

Following Sal's lead, I plop down onto the adjacent, larger sofa-- right in the middle of it. I stare at the dark television and subtly gaze around the room in search of a remote. I'll be damned if I sit here with him in silence like this. Once again, I would much rather hot box in a car full of Larry's tamale farts.

Sal's head tilts upward in my peripheral so I look at him. He looks at me, his azure eyes surveying me before leaning over to a little table between the sofa's. He grabs a remote, then an Xbox controller and tosses them to me.

"You can play something if you want. Just switch to HDMI 2," he offers, turning his attention back to his guitar, strumming a quiet note. His brows furrow and he bites down on his bottom lip, shakes his head lightly. Those hypnotizing cerulean locks fall past his shoulders and shield his handsome face from me. His hair has grown in the past few months, hanging at least an inch past his shoulder by now--

--and that is not the point of why I'm here.

I murmur a quick thanks and lean over to grab the controllers, switching on the TV and finding my way to Sal and Larry's shared console.

There's a selection of games on here, some I've played, others that are on my TBP list (like TBR, but instead of to-be-read, it's to-be-played).

I hover around the Resident Evil 4 remake. For the past few weeks, I've been telling myself I'm saving up for it. I brought it up to Ash a couple days ago and she gave me a funny look then proceeded to remind me that, with my streaming career, I have around $4,000 in my bank account right now. I don't need to save for once, I can just get it.

Except I panicked and said I have to keep all my money in case of an emergency... so having disposable income is still new to me and I have no idea how to handle it.

I click on the game, biting down the excited grin that tries to build on my face.

I start a new game and nearly crap myself, doing my fangirl job by raving over the updated graphics and Leon's lore-accurate hair color.

For about an hour, Sal and I don't even spare glances at each other. It's nice, chill-- just two... acquaintances... in each other's presence without having to talk to enjoy their company. I play RE4 and he strums away on his guitar. A couple times, I become entranced by the melody he plays. Each time he plays longer, it starts to come together. Around the second time he played more than a couple notes, I realized he was composing. Creating a tune. Whatever you want to call it. 

While a musician myself, I've mostly worked on covers of songs. I've only tried to write my own music a couple times and even then, I realized it was tough work. Watching Sal now-- how long it takes him to come up with all the notes and lengths for just one chord-- I do not envy him, but I do admire him. He's putting a lot of work into it, clicking away on his laptop when he finds something he likes.

Each second of him working on his music steals me away from my game though. I start getting antsy, missing infected people even if they're right in front of me in the game. Hell, I walked Leon into a wall two minutes ago.

I grit my teeth as I navigate through the village, heart beating out of my chest with every corner I turn because a horde of zombies is going to be on me any second now.

I need to be prepared, need to get all of these questions out of my head.

"You're making a song?" I ask Sal, staring at the screen in front of me with my knees pulled up to my chest.

Sal hums in acknowledgment, distracted by whatever he's messing with on the computer. "Yea. Has to do with that Twitter leak." His voice is soft, hoarse. I'm shocked he even answered me with how focused he is.

Ah, yea. That leak. Ash and I didn't hear from Sal or Larry for two days after they rushed out of our apartment. When they finally popped up yesterday to help us with some more unpacking, they briefly mentioned something about 'damage control' and 'whistleblowing bastards.' Don't know how that has anything to do with whistleblowing, but those were Larry's words, of course.

I nod lightly, dragging Leon to a ladder. "I take it you don't want to give me the drama on that leak?" I guess, stealing a glance his way. Damn his pretty hair and equally as pretty face.

As I'm glancing, he shrugs, bright eyes darting across his laptop. The color of his irises is enhanced by the blue light of the screen-- I hate him. "There's not much drama to give," he murmurs, clicking on something. Then, he sits back, his eyes snapping to me. "The leak was the bridge to this song. I've been fixing it up and messing around with it. I had a producer with me a couple weeks ago, he took a picture of my screen. The back of my head was in it and it inevitably got out. What are people supposed to think when this is the title?"

He flips the laptop to me and I lean forward, squinting my eyes to look at the screen. There's a lot of graphing and multicolored lines that look overwhelming as hell-- but I focus in on the bold words at the top of all the mess. "DAC COLLAB."

I pinch my lips together in a guilty smile. "Ah, so that's the mess. That fucking sucks," I tell him as he pulls the laptop back to him.

Tongue in cheek, he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'whatever.' He at least seems unbothered by the whole thing now. "It is what it is. It's going to be released at some point anyway. North was going to make an announcement next month when we'd made a little more progress. Damn asshole at that studio just did the job for us, I guess." He seethes a bit on the last sentence, brows pinching together. 

I hum contemplatively, eyes trailing over his hands as they press into his guitar before I look back at my game. "I wouldn't let it bother you too much. You still get to make the song, still profit from it."

A tiny grin pulls at Sal's lips. "True," he says nonchalantly. 

Silence builds around us, our conversation having fallen off rather than ending. We're still learning. Awkward moments have to come along here and there.

Doesn't stop me from getting killed within the following moments though. I'm so stressed about making things work with him and me... I shouldn't have started the damn game. 

"I'll make you a deal," Sal suddenly pipes up when I get mauled a second time.

Growling frustratedly to myself, I pause the game and turn to him, waiting for him to continue.

He shakes his hair out of his face, letting me see all of him. He sets his elbows on his knees, showing off the veins in his forearms and the map of tattoos that trail up his skin just to disappear beneath the sleeves of his shirt. 

I take a fortifying breath.

"Come listen to this and I'll help you past this part." He juts his chin toward the TV before looking back at me.

I shrug. Why not?

"Okay," I accept his proposal, scooting down the sofa toward where he is. His tattooed fingers type away on the keyboard before he turns the laptop so we can both see the screen.

"My taste is a little harder than what Dark Autumn Complex usually puts out, but I think we're getting somewhere," he tells me and for a moment, I wonder why he's trying to explain the music to me before I've even heard it. Is he nervous?

I simply nod my head. If I say something, he may get even more freaked out. I'm fighting for my spot on earth right now, man.

He presses the space bar then leans back, letting me listen.

I flinch when I hear the opening-- he wasn't kidding. It's similar to what the band usually does, but there's something sinister and death-metal-ish about the instrumentals. Sal seems to have a lot of control over the sound here. The double electric guitar, and heavy bass from a literal bass but drums too says enough. It's veering off the path that DAC usually takes.

Just because it's a little different doesn't mean it isn't damn good though. It's really good. Sal's cooking up a five course meal on his laptop here.

"Life slips by In the blink of an eye, Dripping through the gaps In my hand which saps This eternal time lapse Of brutality.

Prophesy each of my regrets; My mistakes chosen by the oracle. A fool making bets With possibilities so rhetorical."

I grin at the lyrics, at the sound, everything. I look over at Sal and he has a little smile on his face too, his expression so heavenly when his eyes meet mine. 

"This is--" I start to say, but Sal cuts me off.

"Shut up. Listen," he whispers. So I do.

"An artist of malice-- My muse of persuasion. Drink from my crimson chalice, Submit to the composer's pervasion.

Aren't we friends? This anguish and me. Gaze through the rose-tinted lens, Ignore the razor blade's sharp plea."

I blink, the smile falling from my lips in record time. Just days ago, Sal asked me that question. 'Aren't we friends?' There have been so many coincidences with this band. So many, in fact, that I genuinely thought Sal and North were the same person at one time.

There's more to this than what I've been told.

"You work close with them, don't you?" I ask, tuning out the rest of the song for now. If he tries to shut me up again, I'll shove a finger down his throat.

Sal doesn't look at me as he chews on the inside of his cheek. And-- wait... is he... blushing?

"Caught that, huh?" He asks, pausing the song but still refusing to look at me.

My eyes widen at his admission. "What exactly do you do with them?" I ask quickly, leaning back a little bit as a thousand and one theories pop into my head. Is he going to tell me that he is North? That he's been hiding behind that name all this time?

And if he is, would I finally tell him that I'm Lexi? 

If North is Sal, a lot of things are going to change.

Sal's tongue swipes along his bottom lip. "I write every single one of their songs," he says, nodding to himself. "They put it together, make music with it."

Oh. I got ahead of myself again.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as my body suddenly grows warm with shame. It's time I put that theory to rest. 

I furrow my brows though, thinking back on the lyrics. "Look," I start warily, "I don't want to seem full of myself or crazy or anything, but I swear--"

Sal shakes his head, his dimple forming on his cheek as a bashful smile grows on his lips. "You're not crazy. I hate that you correlated it, but... there are a few lyrics inspired by some of our interactions. When things make an impact on me, I usually incorporate them into my songs." Now it's my turn to blush. I need a moment to process, but, fuck, Sal keeps going. "For example, 'Wherein Christine Daaè Becomes Her Own Phantom' is about Ash. And then a couple lines in some other songs, like the one you heard in this one and 'Falling through like fingers in fishnets---' those were about you."

I gape at him. This genius made of multitudes and art and misery and physics. I don't know what to say, so I stupidly spit out, "Ash has an entire song about her? You gonna write one about me?"

As soon as the words come out, I narrow my eyes and internally scold myself. Not the time to joke, y/n. Not at all.

Sal strums a note on his guitar, in a completely different world as he mumbles, "Who says I haven't already?"

My head snaps to him and a full on, rainbow infested panic attack starts up. He was so serious, ditched all of his reservations when he said that.

At my silence, Sal glances up inquisitively. He takes one look at my face and his eyes widen a fraction. "I'm joking. You aren't that important for me to write a whole song about. Don't take it so seriously."

Do I snap at him for that or feel relieved?

I choose to glare at him instead and switch the subject. "North has a really nice voice," I say a bit too cheerily. Sal notices and I watch him stifle a petty laugh. "It's very melodic, goes well with the band's sound."

"Don't tell him that," Sal snorts, something a bit bitter taking the place of his previous amusement. "His ego's already huge as is."

Ash had some serious heat on North, and now Sal's looking like he has some not-so-good opinions too. Is North really so shady? What is it that everyone's so on edge about?

I recall the time Ash went on a rampage about North incessantly flirting with me and how she mentioned that he isn't exactly known for being in relationships, that he may not be what he portrays himself as.

Sal seems to be pretty open tonight. Maybe I can finally start to understand what the issue is.

I open my mouth but fail to get a word out. I contemplate saying anything at all, nerves consuming me at the prospect. But North isn't here, it's not like he's going to find out we talked about him.

"Is he really..." I start softly. "Ash hinted that he may not be the best person?" I settle on, peeking at Sal through my lashes.

Sal watches me, eyebrows drawing together and jaw working as he searches for what to say. I wait patiently, happy that he's at least thinking about answering me.

"Are you considering cutting off our arrangement to be with him?" He asks genuinely, nothing but seriousness portrayed in his expression.

All the air leaves my body. I hadn't thought about ending things with Sal for that reason, not even once. Plus, North and I haven't talked in a while. After Ash freaked out, I pretty much put the situation on the back burner. "No," I reply quietly. "It's just curiosity at this point."

Sal's expression softens and he blinks at me, holds me in his gaze before sighing heavily. "Everyone has their own shit to work through. He's no different. He has a lot of baggage though, lot of issues. He's told me a thousand times before that he doesn't think he'd be able to handle a relationship because of his problems." He pauses, grimacing as he fights for the right words, clearly not wanting to disrespect is friend. "North is a bit of a hit or miss. I can't predict how he'd be with you." 

He sends me a devilish look, teeth on display in a stunning smile as he adds, "Definitely can't tell you if the sex is good or not. He wouldn't let me hit."

I shake my head at him and roll my eyes, a blush forming on my cheeks. "I did not ask for that last bit," I tell him pointedly.

Sal chuckles, standing up from his spot on the opposite sofa to sit beside me. I watch him with questioning eyes, my body falling into a frenzy because, oh God, Sal's close. Arms. Tattoos. Fingers. Neck. Face. Teeth. Mouth. Hair. Veins. Ravenous. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

Yikes.

He grabs the controller I'd been playing Resident Evil with and that's when I remember that other half of our last minute agreement.

"Figured I'd give you one last little push to keep fucking me and not him," he says as if that statement holds no weight, gesturing toward me with the controller.

I hate when he says 'fuck' because it's always so unironically seductive. I know he's just playing around, but that glint in his eyes and the smirk-like tilt of his lips tries to tell me otherwise.

I snatch the controller from him and unpause the game, grumbling, "I already said I'm not interested in him."

I walk through all the steps I'd already done, having to restart the entire village scene due to my repeated fuck up from last round.

Sal doesn't reply to me, he watches every move I make on the screen and I focus as best as I can. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself, but I get wrapped up in the same exact spot again, fighting off more of the infected than I can handle.

Leon's body drops to the ground again and I stomp down the overwhelming urge to walk through the TV screen and beat Leon's dead body myself.

"I see what the problem is," Sal pipes up beside me, his tone screaming 'Physics Graduate' with how... scientific he sounds. I bet he conjured up a fucking hypothesis for this. "Come here," he says, linking a finger through my belt loop and tugging me toward him.

I nearly choke on air when my shoulder squishes against his and he leans closer, grabbing my arm closest to him and pulling it so that I'm holding the controller between us.

He moves his hands so that they wrap around mine and over the controller. He can move my thumbs any way he wants with this position-- but now I'm suffering the consequences. His hands are rough and warm on me, his fingers callused and brushing over mine with a perfect plan set in place. I can hardly breathe because, technically, Sal's holding my hands right now. And my body is pressed to his. If he listens a little too hard, he'll hear my heart slamming in my chest.

My body is completely rigid against his. Sex doesn't even involve closeness like this. My entire brain has been completely detached and rewired in mere seconds. Everything I thought has been reversed and I could... totally bed him right here, maybe?

"Are you going to restart or do I have to do that for you too?" Sal rasps humorously. His voice is so near, so clear. I want to look over at him so bad, see the dimple on his cheek because I can hear his smile, but I keep a level head. My eyes stay trained on the TV as I press start.

After all, when a cool, slow-mo explosion happens in the movies, the protagonist never looks back to watch. 

I am the protagonist. I am the fucking protagonist. Iamthefuckingprotagonist.

"Okay, so this is where you're going wrong," Sal says in my ear, his tone suggesting he's much more focused now. His thumbs press into mine, moving Leon around the village much more easily than I could. Doesn't mean he's better than me, he just isn't running on fumes like I am. Sal fumes. I'm suffocating in him, it's all his fault. I am a good player, I swear I am.

I let him direct me, slowly beginning to relax in this soooo not-embrace. His arm, pressed against mine, acts as leverage for me to rest. He seems to lean against me more at some point too, the both of us more worried about getting Leon through the village than about how we slowly warm up to each other and this proximity.

"I don't know if we can get it with me guiding you like this," Sal says a tad urgently when the chase scene starts up, his thumbs working quickly with mine. At some point, I was able to start predicting what moves he'd make, so we seem to be more in sync now. "But we'll try. We have to get through the first wave, then we're going to shoot that damn church bell."

I furrow my brows. "Like the first game?" I gasp, "We can still do it here?"

Sal snorts, manipulating my fingers to shoot someone heading our way. "Of course we can. Watch and learn."

I do watch, and hell, I learn too. It takes maybe five minutes for Sal to get me through the part I'd been stuck on since I got here. The moment he gets the shot on the bell, it rings through the city and evokes deep satisfaction within me-- especially when all the citizens start piling at the church.

I smile at the screen, Sal's hands still wrapped around mine as the famed cut scene starts up.

"Where's everyone going? Bingo?"

This time I look at Sal because we said that line in unison. We said it together. At the same time. He looks back at me with wide eyes and an astonished grin, like he's barely holding back crazed excitement.

Something catches Sal's eye as we watch each other for a short moment, reveling in our shared interest and achievement. He looks up and past me, smile softening as he lets go of my hands. 

The controller is suddenly so heavy without him holding it up for me. It slowly drops to my lap as he stands, walking back over to his respective couch.

I swallow, biting down my yearning for his missing presence. He was warm, he was stable. And that admission only reinforces that fact that I really need to put some much needed distance between us before things get way too real.

I look down at my lap for a moment, reminding myself that everything's going it work itself out. It'll be okay.

Things go back to the way they were before we started conversing today. Sal plays his guitar and tweaks things on his laptop, I play Resident Evil. Only difference now is that we're both progressing through our tasks.

And you know what, it's really nice. I thought this would be a mistake, I thought this would make things so much worse-- well, things are worse, but not in the way I assumed it would be.

But I'm actually having fun. The best part is neither of us need to talk to enjoy ourselves right now. A dynamic like this one is rare.

"You need to go."

The words are abrupt, make me look up. Sal is placing his phone down beside him and pulling his guitar strap over his head. 

Is this some kind of prank? Is he just trying to get our old bickering going? I was just thinking about how nice things were and he cut it off like he read my mind. He had this icy monotone to his voice that I haven't heard in a long time.

With a wary smile, I try to play along. "You're stuck with me, buddy. You made the mistake of inviting me in."

"I'm serious, y/n. I need you to leave." He nearly cuts me off, the words rushing out in what almost sounds like a panic.

I look at him closer, leaning my head down a bit to peek past his curtain of hair. His face is so stone-like, one would think he had faced off with Medusa. My eyebrows pinch together as I finally click into the veiled tenseness around us, my realization making everything that much thicker. 

"Are-- are you okay?" I ask softly, a trickle of apprehension going down my spine. I don't know how to approach this. Clearly, something's wrong and he's trying to play it off. What do I do here? Things were going fine.

"Get out." The words are like a slap to the face, so aggressive and loud that I flinch, the controller tumbling off my lap and onto the floor.

My racing heart only increases its speed as I freeze up and just stare at him. I'm frightened, something I definitely don't want him to see but I can't help it, especially when he looks up at me with a glare so menacing-- the same glare that was always hidden by his prosthetic months ago. Until now.

I force myself to breathe and think.

Okay, he wants me gone. I can do that. All I have to do is walk out the door and I'll be out of his hair. Hell, he might even apologize about this later. My brain nags at me though, says that behind the anger in his expression is fear and sadness. Says that he doesn't need to be alone right now-- he needs someone.

This switch in him was so random, so fast. It feels wrong to think that I was the cause or that he's suddenly freaking out because I'm here. There's something deeper; the problem now is whether he'll let me find out what's going on or not. Should I even try?

Utterly split on what to do, I slowly stand to my feet, never breaking eye contact with him. His excruciating glower softens a little, showing off a glimmer of relief that further proves my thoughts.

I fight past the fear he suddenly evoked, overwhelmed by how pained he must be to have a sudden reaction like this. He helped me when I had a hard time, so shouldn't I do the same for him?

As if to confirm my thoughts, Gizmo comes veering into the room. He talks and talks, skittering over to Sal and climbing up his chest. That's when Sal finally looks away from me so he can run his tattooed hand over the cat's orange fur.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. There is something wrong. Gizmo's presence says it all-- he did the same thing for me when I was anxious.

"Sal..." I say gently, hovering in my stance. I hold my hands to my chest, stuck on what decision to make. I don't know what to do. I'm torn between his wishes and mine. "Do you need to talk about something?"

"No," he bites out. "What I need is for you to get the fuck out." He gently moves Gizmo and stands up. I gulp, watching as that threatening aura of his grows closer and closer with each step he takes. I match his pace, taking steps backward. He herds me to the front door of his apartment, stopping when my back hits the doorknob.

I gasp at the feeling of metal digging into my lower back, using all my might not to back down and cower as Sal towers of me; every inch of his face curled with malice and rage and anguish. His dark brows are furrowed to hold up that glare of his, his light eyes darkened by the negativity roiling around in him. His marred lips set in a frown that just doesn't suit him at all. It's all so unlike him.

This isn't who I've come to know. No matter how scary he is, I just can't, in good conscience, leave him like this.

I take a shaky breath and stay stock still. Stand a bit taller to match his energy. I say a silent prayer that I don't end up on the evening news before I jump into the river crawling with snakes and alligators.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you like this," I declare, making sure my voice is confident to show that I won't back down despite how unconfident I am.

He looks away, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as if to bite down his instinctual reaction before he addresses me again. 

He's trying. He's trying so hard not to scare me off for good-- that's why he wants me to leave now. I see it-- I see through him.

The gears work and click together in my mind. He doesn't want to be alone, he doesn't want to suffer with no one to hold him up when he's low. He's just so focused on boxing up his secrets, keeping them hidden from everyone that he won't rely on his only option. I really can't leave him now, can I?

"You can talk about it if you want, or you don't have to. But you don't have to be alone, whatever it is," I try to console him gently, moving to the side so he can see me in his peripheral. But my movement just makes him squeeze his eyes shut. My heart stutters upon realizing I'm not getting through to him, he isn't hearing me.

"Don't say that shit like you care!" he nearly explodes, voice rattling in my ears. "You don't understand anything. You don't know a thing about me."

He's looking at me again, desperation swimming in his ocean gaze, hiding away from the rage taking over his expression. His eyes rove over my face, sizing me up, waiting for the moment I bite back or walk away.

"I know I don't know anything," I tell him softly, making sure that my expression is open and, fuck, caring. Because I do care. "That's why I'm asking you to help me help you. However way is better."

"I don't want your fucking help," he hisses, eyes narrowing. "I don't want your fucking pity. I want you gone."

I open my mouth to passively fight him on that decision, but he interrupts me before I can even get a word out. "You can't spew this bullshit at me. Like you've lived a day in my life and you know what's it's like to be me. You don't, and you never will if it's up to me." With each word, pity, guilt, and anger builds within me. He's suffering and he won't let himself feel even an ounce of reprieve. Instead, he's trying to push everyone away. He's the type of asshole who probably thinks he deserves to be alone. "I don't want you here, nor do I need you here. Go coddle someone who needs it and get off my fucking case."

I clap back at him the moment he finishes. "Well, maybe you do need help! Maybe you do need my fucking pity! Have you thought about that?" I snap, gesturing to him with a hand. Why can't he just accept this? Get help? Let someone take it so he doesn't have to bear it all? "I don't need to be you to get it, Sal. I don't even need to be me to get it because I see it. You think you can hide it all, carry it all, but you clearly fucking cannot." I scrunch up my face to accentuate my words, trying to get it across to him through the parts of my face on display, the thing that supposedly captures his fascination so much. "It's seeping off of you like oil; doesn't even soak into you. You don't wear your heart on your sleeve, you wear your feelings. I don't know what the hell's going on, but it doesn't take a genius with an IQ higher than yours to see that you're in pain."

Sal doesn't let up that harsh scowl, but I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. And then he blinks. Then he's turning his back to me, walking away from me and toward the kitchen while running a hand down his face.

My heart physically feels as if it's cracking in two, but I grip onto the bit of clarity I have left after literally yelling in his face. I take a hesitant step toward him when his head tilts down, his hair falling around him.

I wet my lips, ponder what to say now. How to approach this with my fingers quaking as each quiet second passes.

"Let's..." I whisper, heaving a troubled sigh. "You don't have to tell me, but maybe talking about it will relieve you, even if just a little." I chew on the inside of my cheek, tiptoeing around the topic, making sure I'm gentle with him now that he's backed down. "And if you really don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. We can watch a movie, play a game. Whatever you want."

The tides are shifting. With each offer that leaves my mouth, something about us changes. With how much I live to loathe change, I find that I don't fear it the way I did before. Not if the change is with Sal. Not right now when this man is nearly falling apart in front of me and pretending that he isn't.

"I need--" his voice cracks and my heart does the same. He's holding himself together with wet glue right now. What the fuck is going on? "I need to talk to Ash," he tries again, his voice a little more stable this time, though still soft and reserved. "But I can't. She's busy."

I bite down on my bottom lip. I know he doesn't want to talk to me. He said it himself; he would never tell me his secrets. But I don't think either of us have much of a choice.

"I'm not Ash," I say delicately, taking one more step toward him. There's still so much distance between us, I don't know how to get to him. "But whatever you say will never leave this room. Once it's out, I'll forget it ever happened if that's what you want."

He doesn't move, doesn't speak. He's heavily contemplating, weighing his options. 

Still silent, he jumps into action, moving to a cabinet in the kitchen. He opens it, pulls out a can of peaches. I watch his every movement as he opens the can then grabs a fork from a drawer. 

I don't push him to speak, I let him figure out what he wants to do. He doesn't quite face me, but he turns so that his back leans against the counter, all while he bites into a colorful peach slice that's hanging from his fork.

He chews while staring unblinkingly at the emptiness in front of him.

"She messaged me."

My eyebrows draw together in confusion for a moment, but I think about what he's said before I ask him to be more specific. 

She. She. I only know of two women regarding Sal-- one being Ash, and the other...

I hold my breath as I realize. It's the woman who hurt him. I shift my weight, expression slackening as I try to find a solution for him. My mind starts swimming with ways to drag him from the depths of his agony. 

Ash told me that if I ever had strange messages and suspected it to be that woman, that I should let her know. And if this woman is harassing Sal, we could take it to police and maybe, hopefully, they could do something about it.

"And I don't know what to do," he continues helplessly, his sweet voice melodic with despair as he looks down at his can of peaches.

I watch him, collecting myself to approach him as rationally as possible. Then, I close the fated distance between us and walk over to him. I stand before him, about a foot of space between us. He doesn't look up.

"Here's what we can do," I start tenderly, trying to be as soft as possible while being a stable foothold he can use to climb out of this mess.  "You don't have to look at it again," I continue, my gaze never leaving him even though he's almost completely hidden from me. "If you trust me with it, I'll take your phone, log in, screenshot the message. Then, I'll block her-- no response because she does not deserve it. I'll send the screenshot to myself then send it to Ash from there. It'll be out of your hands at that point. Me and Ash will handle the rest." Me and Ash because I want to sink my fangs into this bitch too.

Sal sets the can on the counter beside him, rubs a hand across his forehead. His fringe is wild, his hair sticking up in different directions until he runs a hand through his hair, his black nails clashing against a sea of cerulean blue. "Okay," he says, the word so quiet and raspy that I nearly miss it.

I wait just a moment, eyes glued to him. "Okay," I repeat. "I'm going grab your phone."

I backtrack to the living room, picking his phone up from the couch where he'd left it. I flip it so that the screen is facing me and see an Instagram notification. I don't read it just yet, but I slide up on the lock so that he can type in his password. 

When I'm back in the kitchen, I stand in front of Sal and hand him the phone. Fork hanging from his mouth, he quickly types in his password then hands the device back to me. 

It's open to the message. I know I'm doing this for him, but I'm afraid to look too much in fear of seeing something he doesn't want me to see. The last thing I want to do is betray his trust when he's finally given it to me.

"Do you want me to read it or just get the job done?" I ask him. 

"Just read it. It's inevitable either way," he mutters dejectedly. That tone makes me frown worriedly. I'm already on the precipice of falling into complete heartbreak. His reaction certainly doesn't help. Still, I take the screenshot before glancing over the text:

@zoxbby112: 2 fucking years? sexual assault? you've got to be fucking joking you pathetic piece of shit. i TOLD you no one was going to believe your dumb ass and you still went and did it anyway. you're literally a dude, if you didn't want it you should've pushed me off or smth. everyone says no in the heat of the moment asshole. you liked it, you just need to play the victim since no one else is ever going to want you and that ugly fucking face. you're lucky i even still fucked you after getting that piece of plastic off you. fucked up my entire life. making yours a living hell is the only revenge i'm willing to get. 

I have to grip onto the counter to stop myself from crumbling to my knees upon realizing just how this woman hurt him. It was sexual assault. She assaulted him. 

"Oh, Sal..." The words slip past my lips, unbidden and broken as I take a shaky breath.

I blink past the sudden tears in my eyes and shake my head as I block her account then delete the message, navigating my way through his home screen and to discord. I send the message to myself then grab my own phone, making sure to save the screenshot. I go back to his, deleting the photo from our messages and his camera roll so he never has to see it again.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. So much of me wants to be angry, but all I'm feeling is throbbing pain and overwhelming guilt. I feel like my organs are being harvested from my body, like my skin is slowly being peeled away from my bones. All because I have no idea what to do for him, I don't know how to make it better. I don't know how to fix it for him, and I don't think I can.

"I'm..." I start to say, my voice hoarse. 

"Please don't tell me you're sorry," he says quietly, stabbing his fork into another peach.

I tilt my head, biting my tongue as I place his phone down beside him. If I were in his situation, I wouldn't want to hear sorry's anymore either. God, more than anything I just wish I could go back in time and save him from that.

"You know," I say instead, so much emotion ravaging me whole that I don't know how to stay standing on my own. The only reason I'm still up is for him. "I don't know much about physics, but I did like biology. And something my teacher taught me is that skin renewal takes seven years. So in seven years, you'll have brand new skin, and, um, it won't be the same skin you had when..." I trail off, going completely blank while trying to give him something to look forward to. Everything is so pathetic that even my brain can't cooperate.

Sal's head snaps up to look at me like he actually understood what I was yapping about. His pretty blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he still looks at me, face completely expressionless.

I match his gaze, waiting for something. Anything. But then he cracks a pitiful smile, snorts softly-- shows me as much humor as he can muster up. Wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand.

I feel each of my damaged cells rebuilding themselves again at his shift in character. My heart beat becomes a little stronger, my breath more even and not so shallow with torturous anticipation. 

"My skin will be untouched in seven years," he laughs, albeit humorlessly, but it's something.

"Yea, that's what I was getting at," I confirm, rubbing my arms and looking down at my feet.

Still standing beside him, I glance up just as he bites off half the peach slice on his fork. He gazes back at me, his eyes bluer than any sky I've seen, expression softer than any lingering touch of his.

I feel heat gather along my cheeks when he tilts the fork toward me slowly, offering me the other half of the peach. He looks like a cornered bunny, giving the fox hovering around him a peace offering. It's an apology and a thank you, reinforcing the trust that I handled with as much care as possible. 

This fruit means something to him. I haven't an inkling of understanding on the offer, but if it matters to him then it matters to me.

I gently pluck the fork from his fingers, bite off the other half of the peach then hand the fork back.

Turning, I lean my back against the counter and stand beside him, both of us looking into the empty living room in front of us. We don't talk, we don't share a word. But we do pass that fork back and forth. He takes a bite of a peach, I finish it off. It goes like that until the can is empty, and then we both just kind of... stand there.

He pushes off the counter with a soft grunt, dumps the remaining syrup into the sink, washes it down the drain, then he walks over to me. He just stands there and looks down at me with the gentlest expression I've ever seen on him.

I stare back at him, dumbfounded as my mind races for explanations. So much is different now, I didn't think it could possibly change any more but I'm slowly learning that I keep severely underestimating Sal Fisher. Neither of us can make up excuses for this. 

I quickly fit the puzzle pieces together though and realize he's right in front of me because I'm blocking the trashcan. What only solidifies it is that a little upside down smile quirks his lips upon seeing me connect the dots. 

Now, we move the the awkward, embarrassment stage that comes with deep connection. Yea, making friends really sucks, especially when I want so much more than friends.

What?

The unwarranted thought flies out of my head as Sal braces a hand on the counter beside me when I don't move, caging me in as he bends forward. His face passes right beside mine and his hair brushes my cheek, making a chill run up my spine.

His body heat encases me like a warm duvet on the coldest of winter days, his scent wrapping around my soul, squeezing tight, comforting. He's so familiar now, it feels so normal being close to him like this. So much so that I ache to hold him right here for hours. Forever, even. 

Maybe it's the dim lights in the kitchen, the dark night filtering in from his balcony windows. But when he moves backward, he doesn't go far.

He hovers near me, his hand still pressed into the counter beside me. He's close, very close. Closer than he's ever been, I think. 

I map the curve of his lips, my eyes drifting to where the deep scars elongate and change the shape of his mouth, dragging up his cheek and to his eye-- the eye that I can clearly tell is a prosthetic now that he's so close. It looks so similar to his real eye that I genuinely couldn't tell the difference before. 

"You have freckles," I whisper upon noticing them, my voice barely above a whisper. Before I can stop myself, I lift a hand between us and gently run my fingertips over his skin, tracing every little light spot along his nose and cheeks. 

His eyes glance back and forth between mine in my peripheral vision and at the same time, a light pink dusts his cheeks that I'm so focused on. He swallows, licks his lips. Unable to form words.

He opens his mouth, almost like he's thinking of saying something, but he doesn't. He simply lets out a breath, delicately holds me in his gaze.

I let my hand drop between us, marveling at the feel of his soft skin beneath mine. I don't want to make him uncomfortable though, I'm already ogling him enough as it is.

At the realization that I really am looking at him so hard, I tilt my head down, dropping my gaze. After what that awful woman texted him tonight, I doubt he wants to be looked at like this. Picked apart, observed. The point of this is to help him, not point out everything he probably hates about himself. Though, there really is nothing to hate. The me from a couple months ago would passionately object to that statement, but that's past-me for a reason. 

Things change. I changed. Sal's changed.

My breath catches in my throat when his hand presses against my cheek, using the leverage to tilt my head up again. To look at him.

My heart leaps in my chest and I'm unable to breathe when I notice his dilated pupil, feel his thumb gently rubbing my along my jawline. His eyes track his digit's movements, but I can't even be bothered to look away from him. I'm bewitched by his fascination with me, haunted by the calm expression on his face, the wonder in his eyes.

His thumb drags down from my cheek and to my mouth, skimming over my top lip, then the bottom. I feel skittish, burning to move some part of my body to release the energy pent up inside me.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip, entranced by my own mouth.

And if he were to actually try to kiss me this time, I wouldn't stop him.

A low hum spreads throughout my entire body upon acknowledging our situation and the tension that's suddenly filled the air. It's a tingling in every limb, down my spine, up to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I feel him everywhere even though he's only touching my face. I can see him so well, so easily. The slightly darker shade of his left eye and the golden flecks of stardust in his right eye. Pretty. So pretty.

"So pretty," he murmurs my own thoughts. Something about the way he says it, so unguarded and adoring, makes me think I wasn't supposed to hear it.

I don't know how to reply or if I even should. I simply watch him like I have been all night, feeling oxygen and rationality leave me with each prolonged second of this somewhat embrace of ours. We've found ourselves like this more than once today, could we possibly escape it again?

I feel so light and heavy at the same time, thrumming with energy but weak. The feeling of his skin, so cool against my flushed skin, is enough to have my mind racing but to make my body completely freeze. I'm stuck. There's so much... so much that I want to do with the way he's looking at me this way, but I can't make myself do it.

I don't quite realize how close we've suddenly gotten until his nose bumps my mask's. A quiet gasp leaves me and his eyes dart up, gazing into mine.

He's fighting himself and I can tell, the quick scrunch of his eyebrows gives everything away.

Things are really about to change-- again. As if they hadn't already.

There's something startling about the way his eyebrows draw together again, but this time in a pleading way, like he's silently willing me with his mind to pull away from him. Begging me to put a stop to his internal madness. To change his mind. His doe eyes look a little scared and a little dedicated– two very different emotions that just so happen to go hand-in-hand for the moment. 

The way he's looking at me... it's been so long since anyone has looked so pleasurably torn up over wanting me so badly. And not in a lustful way, but in the way that forms bonds. Connects us so intimately without the goal of chasing an orgasm or being able to get something out of the situation. The way he's looking at me screams curiosity and a need to sate it so bad that he's not fighting the battle he wanted me to pull him away from moments ago. He's just slowly giving in and trying to convince himself that he's not.

I'm no better than him in this moment. My hands are balled into fists, my entire body frozen and awaiting whatever it is that's going to come next. My fingernails bite into my palms and my heart drums against my chest, wishing he'd move closer.

I didn't think it'd be this way. I didn't expect to crave him so badly, to miss the feeling of his lips on mine without ever having felt it before. It's excruciating to yearn for him in this new way and hope that he doesn't back out before I can even feel him.

As if he read my mind, he's moved so close that I can feel his breath on my chin, his top lip brush over mine.

I suck in a choking breath and hold it, praying this isn't all a dream.

"Aren't you scared?" He whispers quietly, his mouth skimming over mine with each syllable. His words echo in my mind, his tone caressing my thoughts, coercing me into falling into him and never getting up again.

"No," I whisper back, shutting my eyes and waiting. It's scarier to look at him and fear that he'll move away. Almost as if to lock him into place, I grip onto the hem of his shirt.

He goes quiet and I feel every one of my neurons lighting up with anticipation when his forehead presses against my mask's. 

"Push me away. Something," Sal whispers, the words so quiet and pained that I don't dare open my eyes to observe his current state. 

He knows. He knows this is exactly what he told me wouldn't happen, but now it's about to. And we should be realistic, think about the consequences but I don't want to. I just want to feel him, have him near. I want to be selfish.

I lick my lips, forgetting he's so close. My tongue swipes over his bottom lip and I hear it-- feel it when he steals a breath that tries to escape him.

"I can't," I answer him hoarsely, unable to raise my voice for him to hear me better as I squeeze the fabric of his shirt in my fist. Every bit of me aches to touch him, to feel his skin on mine but I can't muster up the courage, not when this entire situation is in his hands right now.

I won't choose for him today, not with what brought us to this. If he wants me, he can take me.

"Please." His word comes out in a broken whisper, so full of yearning that a little whimper escapes my mouth.

"Please," I mimic him, entranced by the featherlight brush of my lips over his. I can't keep doing this. I can't... "I can't think. Do it."

He lets out the most pitiful sigh I think I've ever heard in my life, and then leisurely presses his lips into mine. It's slow, soft, careful. He holds himself there, suffocates in the sensation just as I do.

Everything I thought I had lost so long ago comes rushing back into me. Excitement, life, a want for more than basic necessity. And for once, I don't feel bad. I don't feel guilty for wanting Sal as much as I do.

I place a hand on his stomach to remind myself that this kiss is real, that he's truly standing in front of me.

My touch was the trigger, I realize, when his other hand moves to my other cheek, pulls me closer to him. He tilts his head a bit as his jagged lips part against mine, softly welcoming the slanting of my mouth against his.

My throat feels as though it's clamped shut as I move a hand to grab onto the base of Sal's neck, my fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt. I'm completely enraptured by the feeling of his mouth on mine. I feel like I'm going to faint, my heart beating so quickly, so vigorously that I can hear my blood pulsing in my ears. There's so much emotion that I've bitten down and hidden for so long regarding Sal. It's all coming out now.

Our lips move slowly, passionately. There's no rush, no heat. It's just feeling. Every movement, every moment of his lips sliding so delicately against mine, every ragged breath, every tightening of his hands on my face or my fingers bunching into his shirt. The feeling of our noses occasionally brushing against each other, plastic against damaged skin, and his chin skimming over mine just a bit. It's beautiful and so passionately smothering. The quiet morphs to mimic the simultaneous quick pace of our heart beats.

I feel the rapid beating of his heart like a drum right in the center of my chest where we touch, becoming one despite the heavy, loathsome origin story we were granted with. I'm sure he can feel just how much he's affecting me, his hand drifting over my neck and two fingers pressing against my pulse point like he did the first time we were together.

As sadistic as he is, I think he's only checking because he can't tell where his heart beat begins and where mine ends. 

Sal's lips close over mine again, the feeling eliciting a shiver that threatens to take over my entire being. I return his kiss, desperate to be closer to him in any way possible while my hand trails from his shirt to his cheek, brushing over the soft, scarred skin. 

He presses me against the kitchen counter, his hands beginning to roam past my face and neck as things gravitate from sweet to intense.

Our kiss becomes aggressive, his teeth biting into my lips and quiet breaths and whimpers passing from him and to me. He makes me feel crazy, filling me with exhilaration that courses through my blood quicker than adrenaline ever possibly could. 

Sal moves backward and I move to follow, but then his lips leave mine. 

I open my eyes, blinking up at him with barely an inch of space between our faces. 

He stares at me, looking like I've just torn him to pieces and hid every bit of him away and now he has to play eternity-long hide-n-seek.

But beyond that, his lips are flushed and kissed, his cheeks tinged pink and hair a mess-- when did I touch his hair? His eyes look a little brighter though, a little less haunted.

"Uh," he voices shakily. "Heat of the moment?"

He doesn't even sound like he believes himself.

The statement still makes my hopes deflate dramatically though. I chew on the inside of my cheek and force myself to look him in the eye as I lie to his face. "Yea," I rasp, taken aback by the sound of my voice. "Yea."

He watches me closely, never moving farther nor closer. As the seconds pass, he seems to sober up, the terrified look in his eyes slowly fading away.

If he decides this was a one time thing, at least I got to taste him once. At least we got one moment, one kiss. It's what I wanted and it's what he wants. 

Sal interrupts my thoughts, whispering, "You know..." One of his hands painstakingly and slowly trails along my side, making my skin erupt with  goosebumps. "I think we're still in the heat of the moment," he continues darkly, gaze falling to my mouth.

I don't let shock take control, I only try to control the smile that tries to quirk my lips. "I think so too," I whisper back, looking down at his teeth that bite into his lower lip like he's barely holding himself back.

As soon as he hears my response, he doesn't bother holding back. He smashes his lips onto mine and engages the two of us in the same dangerous dance we made the mistake of beginning earlier.

-------

A/N::::: BEEN HOLDING THIS ONE IN THE DRAFTS FOR A WHILLLLLLEEEEE I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S FINALLY TIME-- LIKE I ACTUALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IT WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO WRITE AFTER THIS

jk >:3

yea so as much as i adore this chapter, it also scares me because i feel like it moves way too fast (totally hasn't been nearly thirty fucking chapters ahahhaha). so yea, PLEASE let me know how we feel about this and what could have been better!

psa: i'm going to be starting student teaching august 1st, and college has me going to lots of meetings which means things are about to get VERRRYYYY busy for me… busier than they've ever been :( but!! i think things will be okay. lately, i've been teaching myself to fight through the lack of motivation and write any time i get even an inkling of yearning for it. exactly why y'all got this chapter so soon, actually! i saw something about how stephen king writes 5,000 words a day and i've been building to that! so while i won't be able to freely write as much as i know i'll want to, i'll still be writing. you guys know the drill though, even if it takes me a month or two to get something out, WINTER BREAK IS IN DECEMBER WHICH MEANS I CAN BEAT Y'ALL UP WITH CHAPTERS!!!

as always, i love you all SO much. more than you'll ever know. things have been tough on my mental lately and i'm going to be going through a HUGE shift in my life, but… that's okay cuz I know I'll always have you guys. thank you for being the most stable, non-toxic, and reliable things in my life! y'all going in my will fr

have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night my babies <3

p.s. when i wrote this note, i had just posted this chapter to wattpad-- which was about a week ago. the huge shift in my life had involved a six year relationship that i ended yesterday. i am incredibly torn up and shaken by this, but i believe it needed to happen for my wellbeing as well as my growth as a person. I know it's not necessarily an important thing to add to this note, but i want to give a reason just in case this healing process causes a prolonged absence for me. i am completely dedicated to faceless fixation and even today i've thought about what i want to write next, but i need to put some focus on myself instead of running away from my problems. thank you guys for being wonderful, i love you all so much!! until next time <3

[violant-apologia]

firmament theory! spoilers for chapter two of firmament below the cut

what is firmament for? aside from the story, the lore, the new locations, mechanics, etc. the railway was tied to a replacement of the old level overcapping system, and evolution was a vehicle for a more advanced set of destinies. i've got an idea of the mechanical purpose firmament could be leading up to, and it's to do (of course) with the alternate history stuff.

so far, with the vulgate, the caustic apocrypha and the library of impossible things, firmament has already seeded the idea of in-universe "retcons", and two versions of history (like the gullet falling/not falling) existing at once. the advent text when caustic apocrypha were first introduced even indicated this was the case with the PC – "a person unmistakably you, but living a life that bears little resemblance to the one you inhabit now." what would this all allow, mechanically speaking?

resetting – or playing multiple – ambitions. you can easily see how this works: an in-canon reset of one's own history to allow for a different path through the neath, even competing and incompatible histories existing at once with multiple ambitions or multiple endings of the same ambition. i think it's very possible that the final reward of the firmament storyline will be a way to reset ambitions.

failbetter have talked before (and even started, and abandoned, plans) about allowing players to play a second ambition. the planned iteration of this was metempsychosis (or "meeting your end") which would allow old characters to find an ending to their story and leave some of their key achievements to a new, earlygame character. eventually they scrapped this plan; here are some of the reasonings given in the relevant blog post (which i think they should have called "meeting your end meets its end" but whatever) and whether they still apply to an "ambition retcon" in firmament:

A lot of existing content would need to be retrofitted to work with MYE [...] and a lot of individual judgement calls would have to be made on which items and qualities would transfer over to a new character.

this is clearly not an issue; only selective parts of history need to be rewritten, you're not creating an entirely new character here.

Announcing the feature caused a lot of anxiety for those of you who didn’t want to put a permanent end to your characters.

again, this isn't a problem if a new character isn't being created.

Being able to stack rewards from multiple Ambitions seemed intractable for game balance and led to players feeling like they would be pressured to play through MYE and restart. But a lot of players wouldn’t want to undergo MYE if it meant giving up on Ambition rewards, either.

the first part of this is still true, if the implementation allows treasure-stacking. but it's much less of an issue without the second part; if it's purely an additive process rather than a replacement of a character, the primary reason people wouldn't want to do it disappears, and multiple treasures can be factored into game balance with the expectation of people having them.

(and again, additionally, this only even matters if you keep your old treasure. an implementation where you only ever have one is also completely feasible.)

Fallen London looks much more sustainable and healthy now than it did at the end of 2019. If the game will keep seeing an expanding endgame and a continuing role for endgame characters for years to come, it makes less sense to reset and replay the early game.

without a new character, the earlygame is left out of it. there's still less of a need to bring back old ambition content given the new structure of updates, but that's something people were clamouring for a lot more than a reason to revisit the earlygame.

they ALSO mention:

However, we know that those original desires – being able to put an ending to your character, definitive or not; playing through different Ambitions or replaying an Ambition – are still there. And we’re still looking for ways to address them.

they've addressed the "put an ending to your character", and it clearly landed on the "or not" side of definitive: the new destinies. the indication they're also looking for a way to incorporate ambition stuff is a sign too.

Another lesson we took from this is that announcing something ambitious and experimental so early on hasn’t really paid off.

and this is why they haven't said anything about it yet. even though this far into the process it's probably either set-in-stone definitely happening or not, it explains why they wouldn't have indicated ambition reset was on the cards if it was.

so, there we go! i hope i was convincing, and i really hope it happens, because it's been something i've wanted in the game for a long time. if you agree or disagree with my thoughts, feel free to comment or note and i'll probably respond!

[phoenixyfriend]

if you're still doing made up fic titles? how about this: Ah, so YOU'RE the reason i've got a headache

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it

This ask meme is from over a year ago. Please don't send new prompts.

Time-loop fic, Mace POV. He's stuck reliving the day of Anakin's opera visit with Sheev.

Mace is stuck living this day over and over, and a lot of the elements are the same (how he wakes up, the reports of battles on the other side of the galaxy, the stock numbers), but a handful of things keep changing.

Always, Skywalker is wild-eyed and tense and clearly riding the edge of a complete mental breakdown, avoiding the Council and begging off to handle a personal issue. It might be Amidala-related, and so Mace just... lets him. He figures that if anything can calm Skywalker down from whatever is wrong here, it's Amidala.

The day never really ends the same. Sometimes it ends similarly, but not the same. Shatterpoints don't match up with what he expects. Some loops end early, but not for reasons he can identify. Things change, but only sometimes in response to his actions.

He doesn't find out until four loops in that Palpatine is a Sith Lord, and he finds that out because he happens to be trying a new tactic for 'figure out the time loop' by visiting the Senate, which half-exploded in the third loop. In the fourth loop, the Chancellor's office doors burst open, releasing Skywalker (who is on the defensive) and Palpatine (who is shooting lightning from his fingers, at Skywalker).

The loop ends with Mace's death.

Fifth loop kicks off with Mace immediately heading for the Senate to try to kill Sidious while his guard is down, figuring that if the loop resets, no harm done, and if it doesn't, then Mace's actions will be done independent of the rest of the Jedi, and the Senate will (hopefully) not have any of his consequences land on the rest of the Order.

He dies. Again.

Sixth loop. Similar start. He tries another early assassination. Once again, it doesn't work. This time, he sees Skywalker entering the Chancellor's office, just in time to distract Mace and get him killed.

When Mace heads for the Senate in the seventh loop, he has a shadow. He doesn't have to try very hard to sense that Skywalker is stalking him, but he also can't remember what he did this morning to make Skywalker follow him. That said, the previous loops now indicate that Skywalker's general anxiety in the mornings is not an Amidala thing, but perhaps him struggling with the suspicion that his friend is a Sith Lord. It's very possible he picked up on Mace's intentions, and--

Mace stops for coffee, just to make sure he's awake enough to fight. Skywalker disappears from his senses. The loop resets before he ever makes it to the Senate.

Eighth loop, Mace tries to research. He tries to stalk Palpatine. Skywalker enters for a 'friendly' visit around lunch, and then attempts an assassination of his own. Mace tries to help, but Palpatine shouts to the Coruscant Guard, and Mace is shot down.

(So that's what killed him in the fifth loop.)

Ninth loop, Mace decides to waylay Skywalker. Clearly, he's the only person so far that knows what's going on. Sure, he'll think Mace is going insane, once he mentions the time loop, but still. Mace needs information, and Skywalker's the only one who might have even a little bit of it.

Mace pulls Skywalker aside. Asks 'what do you know about Palpatine?' Mentions knowing that there's a whole Sith thing going on--

Skywalker backs away with terror on his face, for some absolutely inscrutable reason, and then runs away.

Mace considers this, and then chases after him.

Skywalker's fast, so Mace doesn't actually catch up to him until he's already in the Senate building, running for the Chancellor's office, and--

The bomb that Skywalker was carrying goes off, taking both of them with it.

Tenth loop, Mace finds Skywalker before he does anything else. He drags him into a meeting room, says "I've lived this day before. Palpatine is a Sith Lord. You keep trying to assassinate him, so I know you're aware of this. Help me help you."

Skywalker breaks down crying, and Mace has no idea what to do. When Skywalker flings himself into Mace's arms, he hugs back on instincts born of half-raising Depa, and asks what's going on.

Mace has lived this day ten times.

Skywalker has lived it over a hundred.

(He's long since lost count.)

Mace finds out that he died in the first loop. He's died in many of them, actually. Once or twice they've successfully killed Palpatine, but never in a way that prevents his backups from going off. Skywalker's started running assassination attempts solo in hopes that he can take the entire brunt of the 'take my killer with me' deadman's switches, because all his attempts to stop those deadman's switches weren't enough. He could never deactivate them before Palpatine noticed. When he'd tried to let someone else handle the 'killing Sidious' part while Anakin did the deactivation, the others would always die, because they started with an attempted arrest, just like canon. They wouldn't listen to Anakin about how they couldn't lead with their sabers, not against Sidious. Eventually, he stopped trying to convince them of the time loops thing, and just... tried to handle it on his own.

But now Mace is here, and Mace remembers too.

And Mace is going to help him.

(The title would be referring to the many shatterpoint migraines Mace is experiencing as a result of not knowing Anakin is also messing around in the timeline.)

[yanderes-galore]

Hi!!! May I request Yandere X-Tale Chara with a Darling who tried to escape?

　- 🪷🪼

Was torn between making this a short and making this a concept, so I just poured the thoughts in my head here. This is a bit of a divergence from canon, as you're an X character like him. I'm not that proud about this one but I wasn't sure where exactly it should take place, it was vague so I tried :(

Yandere! X-Tale! Chara with Escaping! Darling

(FT. Frisk, X-Event)

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Brainwashing/Overwriting, Isolation, Possessive behavior, Trauma, Angst, Forced relationship.

He can't force something he once had to happen again...

It doesn't work like that...

But he keeps trying....

Chara recalls you from his previous timelines.

You two used to always get along.

Childhood friends... He adored you.

Still does even if you don't feel the same.

Chara is the only one who really understands Gaster's resets and overwrites other than his brother.

Chara's tired of Gaster turning you against him, of corrupting you...

He's tired of you being taken away from him.

Chara's bond with you ranged from childhood friends, perhaps even crushes, to even enemies due to Gaster.

Yet his feelings never changed.

Imagine if Chara got sick of this and tried to force you to like him again?

He wants to undo the brainwashing, to be happy for once.

But it's futile.

I imagine it would be futile until Chara became the X-Event.

Remember that point where Chara/Frisk/The X-Event could create their own timeline?

Imagine if they made one where they, especially Chara, tries to make you back to how you were.

Chara doesn't care if he has to force it...

He just misses those times you two had.

In this new timeline, one where he has the power to overwrite with Frisk, Chara tries to make you the person he remembers you to be.

He tries to give you the role of friend, or something else.

It irritates him that he has to do this through Frisk... But he's happy in this way you're his.

The issue?

You keep rejecting your role somehow.

You find how clingy Frisk/Chara is with you odd.

Even more so when you feel yourself being... isolated.

Poor you doesn't know the truth.

You're like a favorite doll compared to him.

One made to obey.

Now, Chara/The X-Event doesn't entirely cage you.

The timeline itself is your cage.

You think your life is genuine, that you aren't a copy of some other version.

Unfortunately, you're not your own person.

The only reason you're around is due to the X-Event.

It's due to Chara and Frisk enabling him.

Imagine if you start to act out, to distance yourself from Chara.

You have memories you don't understand, you're scared to be around them.

Perhaps you do try to run.

You won't ever get far, but you run.

This might not even be the first time you ran.

There might be many times where you have.

Only for it to end the same.

"Again?"

No matter how much you run, you'll always end up with The X-Event, with Chara, in front of you.

"How long have we kept up this game? Don't you know you're safe with me?"

He's used to this, to your scared expression that just learned the truth.

Part this reminds him of how he and his brother acted with Gaster...

But he ignores such a thought.

No, all he can focus on is you, running away again.

"You never understand, do you?"

He sounds exasperated.

"Escaping... It's pointless. Why aren't you happy? Am I not enough...? I give you everything you need."

He steps closer, you step back.

You don't understand what's going on.

What's wrong with him? Them?

"It's alright, we'll try again..."

The purple button that manifests in front of him looks familiar.

It makes you scared...

But it doesn't matter.

By the time the button is pressed, you're back by Chara's side.

You don't remember what happened before.

However, there's no doubt you'll try to escape again...

Then, the cycle repeats...

You'll always belong beside Chara... One way or another...

Until the timeline breaks apart... You'll never be free.

[muninnhuginn]

Hi Mun!!! I wanted to ask if you have any other kdramas or cdramas you would want to recommend? :0 I still need to catch up with Stranger/Secret Forest, but I’m curious if there are any others I should check out too!

That I do.

Okay so I'm trying to decide how much to factor in enjoyment vs quality here because I have a few shows I really enjoyed but are, um, well, you have to let some stuff pass.

I will mention that my tastes in terms of romancey stuff tends to lean towards non-existent or subtle and so that's largely reflected in my recs. The only exception to this on the list is Flower of Evil. (I didn't intend it but this list doesn't actually have any main BLs/GLs either. A lot of people ship various combos of the main three in MLC and WCL though.)

Shows below cut in no particular order:

Flower of Evil

(modern kdrama)

I wasn't sure how to start with this one so I'll just nab the description from Wikipedia as it's actually fairly accurate here:

Baek Hee-sung is a man who hides his identity and past from his wife Cha Ji-won, a detective. On the surface, they appear to be the perfect family: A loving couple with a beautiful six-year-old daughter who adores her parents. Cha Ji-won and her colleagues begin investigating a series of unexplained murders and she is confronted with the reality that her seemingly perfect husband may be hiding something from her.

I don't want to spoil much about this, but it's very cat-and-mousey. It's evil with the cliffhangers. At one point, it briefly becomes a buddy comedy between a guy and another guy he kept in his basement. And there is one scene where people just sit in a car crying for two minutes. So, like, it has the range? I think of it as a guilty pleasure kinda show personally, but it's probably the closest to Beyond Evil of the shows on this list.

Mysterious Lotus Casebook

(historical cdrama)

Full disclosure: I have only recently finished this and it has somewhat taken over my brain so I can't claim to be in any way unbiased here. Li Lianhua is a lying liar who lies who may or may not be the fallen hero Li Xiangyi (he is). He wants to get by pretending to be a doctor and minding his own business, but unfortunately, the plot is out to get him. And so he, along with Fang Duobing, end up investigating various crimes as Li Lianhua tries to find the body of his former senior to lay him to rest before his own body gives out on him.

My favourite thing about this show is a) Li Lianhua, and b) the dynamic between the main trio. The levels of trolling and identity porn at any one time are through the roof. It's a comedy until it isn't.

Reset

(modern cdrama)

This is the incredibly rare type of show known as a decent *modern* cdrama. It's a timeloop show and is fairly short at 15 episodes. It's about two strangers who are trapped on a bus that keeps exploding and their attempts to uncover why and how it keeps happening. Being a modern cdrama, some of the police stuff can be fairly... heavy-handed, but I think the writers do what they can despite that, and it does use the different bus passengers to explore different societal issues, which is neat.

Overall, it's a bit of a mystery show, a bit of a character drama, and a teensy bit of romance which is for the most part nicely underplayed.

White Cat Legend

(historical cdrama)

This is waaaaaay more down the enjoyment end than quality but I'm having such a good time here. This is originally based off a manhua (I've only read pieces of it myself) but mainly just takes the characters and some story beats and does its own thing. I watched the donghua first and tonally that was an interesting experience in how it raced between funny cat shenanigans and reckoning with the nature of war crimes (though the donghua stuck much closer to the og source overall). But the live action so far is staying firmly silly (I'm midway through so it will shift at some point, I'm sure, just can't see the tonal whiplash being as bad as in the donghua).

Anyway! To explain what the show actually *is*, it follows a guy who has been cursed to become a cat (in the manhua/donghua this means he's like a walking furry but the live action has it more of a werecat/shapeshifter deal which is good because I could not handle that cg 24/7) and his attempts at running investigations as part of the local court. This is not helped by being the only competent guy in the entire place. Still, at least his underlings are *incredibly* entertaining in their failures. So, most of the show is investigating crimes against a backdrop of Li Bing (catto dude) trying to uncover the origins of the curse and why the old court and his father died. There's also a purple dude with whom he has History and an italian vampire. And vice president shangguan, who is one of those rare female characters you get in historical cdramas where the show is actually normal about her existence *without* just entirely brushing over the implications of her being in her position as a woman.

Move to Heaven

(modern kdrama)

This is a genuine rec where I'm not going to say you have to let quality pass or whatever because it's objectively good and doesn't have a high entry barrier. It may be good to watch an episode at a time depending on your mood though rather than trying to marathon it or anything.

This show basically follows the 'move to heaven' team, who are summoned to clear out the belongings of the deceased. Each deceased person has a story associated with them and as part of tidying the belongings away, there's an element of investigating to find out what their story was. It can be a tearjerker at times, but it can also be incredibly sweet. Also, it has a canon autistic character where it actually strikes a really good balance in terms of not infantilising him whilst still having it make sense why he wants help with certain things.

Nirvana in Fire

(historical cdrama)

This is my beloved. My favourite cdrama of all time. But I suspect it may not fit for you if Secret Forest doesn't. Still, I'll mention it and say to look up the diagrams to keep track of all the characters in the early episodes (...yeah, it's that type of show).

Anyway, this show is about a terminally ill man who takes on a secret identity or two as he plots to take revenge/bring justice (depending on who you ask) for the crimes of the past. This is part of the 'lying liar who lies' subgenre. It's much more serious and complicated overall than Mysterious Lotus Casebook despite the superficial similarities, but it does have its lighthearted moments.

Misc. shows that didn't make the list

I'll mention Signal (kdrama) and Kairos (kdrama) because they both have neat time travel mechanics, but with huge stipulations here. Signal is the objectively better one of these two and the male mc in Kairos is unbearable at times but at the same time Kairos has enough good points to keep me watching. The friend trio of female mc (they're just besties frfr) and the villain romance subplot especially. Signal had potential to be amazing, but for me, some of the time travel mechanics fell through and it was almost BBC Sherlockian at times with some of the 'profiling' deductions.

Signal's premise is that there's a walkie talkie that links the past and the present between a current day consultant profiler (with a distrust of the police despite now working for them) and a past police officer who is dead in the present day. It follows various cases between the past and the present that are interlocking with each other, with the overarching mysteries being present day profiler's backstory and past cop's death. I feel like this started out decently, went hit-and-miss, had a few episodes where it was absolutely amazing, and then lost steam somewhat, though the ending hit the main points.

Kairos' premise centres around a mobile phone. When a phone is disconnected, the number ends up being assigned to someone else. So, the two main characters, living a month apart in time, have the same number and thus can communicate with each other. The male mc in the future has recently found out that his wife and daughter have both died and the female mc's mother has gone missing. So they've both got a scenario they need the other person to help them with and as they change things, more new problems keep cropping up. It's a show where the premise is super interesting, but I personally found it a very frustrating watch, not least because of characters making decisions that were in-character, but incredibly stupid and *not* in the entertaining way.

Also, as I didn't include any BLs/GLs, I'll mention that I cannot in good conscience recommend Guardian (cdrama), but it's such fun trash and it has Shen Wei. It's a bit like shows like Torchwood and Buffy in that it's ostensibly modern era but there's magic (sorry, 'aliens') and a team that's meant to be keeping on top of it all led by Zhao Yunlan. He meets Shen Wei and then proceeds to *keep meeting him* at various crime scenes because Shen Wei sucks at this whole low-key deal.

On a similar note, Couple of Mirrors (cdrama) is a republican era GL. The two leads are well-written, but it's basically like two different shows mushed together (a soap and an assassin/cat-and-mouse chase). It has Yan Wei though! It's about a popular writer meeting a photographer (who is also an assassin) and them both discovering that the writer's husband really and truly sucks.

[zahri-melitor]

New(ish) Comics (25/12/2024)

How many comics come out this week of the cycle that I read?!? Decided to drop the Last Halloween and let it build up as there's too much other stuff going on.

Absolute Wonder Woman #2: maintaining the crown of best Absolute title!

I love Diana's calm 'I don't need you' attitude towards the military in this, which is both making it very clear she was raised by Circe AND clearly Thompson commentary on King.

Also the "yes, my horse is Pegasus. THE Pegasus" conversation made me grin.

Action Comics #1077: Clark's finally on his way back to solve the problem that's troubling Earth; Kenan and Kon have got their moment of stripping the British Museum and returning all the intergalactic treasures to their original planets; and in the Kara backup we find out she's been sent after this world-destroyer because of her hunt for Krem in SWOT.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #19: so I can't believe in the year 2024 we have a story featuring PLAS and DIANA that is busy cementing that the Mirror House and those buying trophies from it were actually separate to the Court of Owls, rather than an earlier incarnation of the imagery. Dave Wielgosz, you are a preboot fanatic trying to link things up.

I'm glad Maxine is getting a story, but hopefully it's one she comes out of safely.

Robin Season remained fairly meh, aside from Tim and Damian uniting in annoyance at Jason (though Killer Moth is famously one of Babs' rogues. I don't think he's had much to do with Jason over the years).

Batman / Santa Claus: Silent Knight Returns #5: Santa gets JLI membership and Unnecessary Babsgirl appears, two years in a row.

Black Canary: The Best of the Best #2: look I will say that Dinah Drake actively training Dinah Laurel as a kid is not the most common history for the two of them, but given we're still resetting everything here (and we have evidence in this of Larry as her dad, Larry as a Gotham police officer, and the family being in Gotham) I'll give some leeway.

Also there are dead Ollie jokes. I am enjoying how much this title is leaning into Ollie being obligatorily terrible in any Black Canary title.

Detective Comics #1091: using Clark for scans rather than seeking medical attention? I snorted.

The Flash #15: I think I'm going to have to read this whole storyline back to back when it finishes. Wade has a tiny Jack Jack moment.

Okay! humanoid reptiles in Skartaris are actually somewhat uncommon! But at least we are still remembering the language barrier issue where everyone in Skartaris does not speak English! (also please please please for me have Jennifer show up soon, it would be the best easter egg)

Green Arrow #18: I'm enjoying the book going back to a tighter focus rather than having characters standing around effectively doing nothing, but it could also use more than just Ollie. Waiting to see how the story plays out.

Justice League Unlimited #1: look, it's fine, but I'm not a huge fan of "everyone is on the League" style stories. Mostly dipping into the start of this to work out what the overarching plot between this, the Question, and the Atom Project is going to be.

Nightwing #120: I'm enjoying the opening story, and I'm waiting to see where Watters takes the full arc. (Give the rabbit to the Marvels, it can hang out with Hoppy!)

The Warlord #78: look I just said humanoid reptiles aren't common in Skartaris, but this storyline has one. Proving me wrong here, thanks old Warlord issues.

Travis and co head towards New Atlantis to find the stash of Ancient Atlantean weapons he wants to use to drive off New Atlantis. While crawling through tunnels they get attacked by a giant scorpion, Shakira finds a rodent of unusual size while hunting as a cat, and they discover the far future US government dogtags actually activate the Atlantean spaceships-I-mean-gravity-sleds...and one of the dogtags has Travis' name on it!

Travis falls backwards onto the gravity sled holding the activating chip with his name, as Shakira lands on him running away from the ROUS, and...the sled activates, making the two disappear! Dun dun dun!!!

[localvoidcat]

tmcblr dave storyline horrifically summarized

now that he's officially dead, it's time to post the entire plotline of dave dave-the-tech-guy. i wrote this in two days with nothing but determination, the blog archive, and a can of mountain dew. please do enjoy, this will be posted in multiple parts due to the sheer length of it

note: while i'm sure there's things i've left out, or misspelled or repeated or anything of the sort, i have been working on this far too long to go back and edit. if there's anything wrong that's in god's hands i'm done here

please do enjoy this recollection of eleven months of my descent into madness!

(august - december)

august: tries and fails to help his nephew fight off the gay allegations. grows such an intense hatred towards gougars that he gets it on a shirt.

september: loses his mustache and crocs, only for them to come flying back to his face like a boomerang. he meets dirk for the first time.

october: the beginning of the shitfuck months. he gets turned into a gougar while listening to california girls and burns down mandelatech. he sees ruth for the first time since her death and his mental health immediately tanks. he goes into the spirit world to try and help her. he gets scared and screams and the guardian of the spirit realm gets so upset it throws him out. he comes back as a weird medium. he’s talking in wingdings for some reason. he takes on a false identity as “spirit box” and joins bps with jonah. he gets chased down by the (now-vengeful) ghost ruth and locks himself in a random shed in the woods to get away from everyone. johnson shows up outside. after three days of tearing at the walls, he manages to get out and start running. he is immediately torn apart. after five days of being dead, he is brought back to life by system. there are pop-ups all over his body (we learn later these pop-ups cover the missing parts of his body). he finds entity - the alternate jonah summoned in an attempt to get dave back - and knocks off its head with a shovel. doing this starts turning him into an alternate and he gradually transforms into a static beast. he’s able to stick his head in televisions.

november: he turns into a full beast. he goes with lamb to the lake and tears his mouth apart. after this, his file is corrupted and system resets him completely. he wakes up looking human. he is not human. he has turned into a full alternate capable of changing form. he has some family issues with mark and starts becoming more distant. sometime in november, we’re introduced to randy, a ghost that wears a party hat and that dave considers annoying. he doesn’t hold much relevance outside of a few appearances, but is important enough to mention here. dave decides to move out of thatcher’s house, and finds a landlord. this landlord is johnson, who is planning to kill him. dave is completely oblivious to this kidnapping until johnson straight up tells him. he becomes a weird alternate and eats an entire fucking mountain lion just to spite johnson. johnson manipulates dave into using the system to turn himself human. this fails, and dave dies after entity is ripped from his body. brutus, in an attempt to stop dave from permanently dying, brings him back as a ghost. now horribly lethargic and trapped in the spirit realm, he grows more miserable by the day.

december: dave tries to move on, but is convinced to stick around for the sake of his loved ones. he speaks to system for the first time, and starts becoming more aware of its presence, even talking back to it on occasion. he possesses thatcher and falls into a (completely normal) ghost coma for a few days. entity, still in the living world, communes with the audience. it is revealed to have gone to dashcon (???). dave learns more about the current status of his family and gets sad. he goes with el to explore the spirit world a bit and meets wilbur, who tells him about the possibility of being revived. he goes with him, and ends up in a courtroom of the gods. after pleading for a bit and being thrown out for a couple minutes, he’s brought back in and told he can be brought back to life - with the condition that he come back with several curses (all animals that don’t know him will attack him on sight, he will suffer horrible nightmares every night, people around him will feel tired constantly).

(note. sometime around the time of the revival, he switches from he/him to any/all. the wording will change to reflect this.)

upon waking up, they realize a few things: 1, he’s stuck in a random landfill in yonder county; 2, she’s been rotting here for quite some time now; 3, their corpse is missing a few limbs following the first death + removal of system assistance. tech leaves the landfill, breaks into an abandoned store, and gets some of the remaining blood cleaned up. dial drives to thatcher’s house and reunites with him, officially moving in shortly after. he sees entity for the first time since the separation, and afterwards, passes out in the snow. the gods begin watching him at this point, sending down different animals and items to do so. thatcher and dave go out into the (mostly empty) mandela city for a day or two. dave tries and fails to make a new arm for themself. johnson breaks into the davis household and dave learns that johnson left dave’s missing arm at the doorstep. after being slapped for this, thatcher agrees to help her find it again. they do, and dave has to be convinced not to attach the horrifically rotted arm back on. dave notices the rot beginning but pays no attention to it. he gets a checkup from a doctor and comes back with a laundry list of ailments, as well as a prosthetic leg that she decides not to use due to it being uncomfortable. dave asks about the wellbeing of his alternates, and dirk mentions his fish bait shop. dave falls asleep and we meet tony rigatoni, who sets dave adrift in a lake on a sofa. he wakes up utterly confused. the cat ray appears again, and mcpdtech is turned into cats for the following month. during this time, dave meets o’brien, gets yelled at by the doctor jo, and hangs out with lamb. system makes itself more present during this time. the year ends with him turning back to normal.

[invisiblegarters]

Jack o’ Frost Ep 2

Well at least Fumiya didn't try to hide what's going on from little bro. Good for him for carting Ritsu straight back to the doctor. 

Ha, the reaction to the breakup news. I don't know if I was supposed to laugh, but I did. 

"Have you talked to him about the breakup?" 

Hon, he hasn't even gotten to the "we were dating" portion of events. Although honestly I feel like once Ritsu starts to think he'll probably be able to put two and two together and get four. There's only one bed! 

Good for Shuji for being skeptical of the reset idea, even if he does wind up agreeing not to say anything in the end. Amnesia is not a reset button, Fumiya! I know you don't know that you're in a drama and thus it's pretty much a guarantee but come on, aren't you even a tiny bit worried Ritsu is gonna remember what happened with you? Or at least figure out some of the pieces? Come on. 

And oop, here comes the first lie. Or maybe omission of truth. I want to like Fumiya, mostly because I like the actor, but I really do take issue with hiding big parts of people's lives from them and giving them skewed versions of the truth, and he’s not even trying to pretend that he’s doing it for Ritsu’s sake. Although tbh I’m kind of glad for that. If he pretended he was doing this for Ritsu it’d make him a coward on top of everything else. 

Good advice from Ms. Next Door. It takes two people to be in a relationship but I also think that it takes two to break it. Maybe Ritsu was flighty and more focused on work than Fumiya, maybe he was selfish and unappreciative. But if Fumiya said nothing until he was too angry to actually discuss anything, well. That's on him. 

I think I'm gonna get my mundane breakup, though, which I am happy about. 

Aw, no wonder Fumiya was so charmed by Ritsu drawing him last ep, if that's how they met in the first place. He is handsome, though. Ritsu was right about that. I have to say I'm glad he's playing older in this one, too. He's not an old man or anything but he does have an older looking face that I don't think suits a high school setting. Then again everyone in T&A looked 12 except for him, so that might be what it was. Also I'm just liking this recent trend of adult BLs. More adulting, please! Although I guess a lot of the dumbassery in these dramas would be far more annoying coming from adults. 

Maybe. 

Well next episode looks fun. They're going back to the love shack villa where I'm going to feel free to assume they got together. Things are gonna go down. Maybe Ritsu. 

I'm liking this. It's got a melancholy feel that kind of worries me, because melancholy from the start does not bode well for the end in my experience with Japan. I suppose if we get real skinship we'll know for sure that this can go nowhere good. 

Unfortunately even if that's what happens I am strapped in for the ride. I find this quietly compelling, and I do want to see more, both about how things began and how they ultimately broke down. I don't know if I think that this will result in a fresh start for them - it might only break them farther apart in the end - but I do still think I'm going to enjoy it, wherever we end up.

[krakenjoy]

I'm 6 hours into the Pale Beyond on Steam and I'm enjoying it a lot. It's a survival management game where you balance resources and maintaining loyalty. It's got the Terror vibes, since the Franklin Expedition and the Endurance expeditions were direct inspirations. There's a character who I think looks like Cornelius Hickey who's background probably isn't the cleanest, and the doctor has Goodsir vibes. Someone says 'this place wants us dead'. The characters and narrative are intriguing. Also you get to pet dogs (I have a bad feeling about this).

It's difficult to not reset the game every time you mess up, and the game would prefer you not do that, since you have to restart the entire week. It's not just because of a more beneficial choice, but I also don't want to upset the characters.

Speaking of the characters, I did not expect to get attached this much. Even though you mostly interact with the specialists, the majority of them are given enough characterization to make them stand out. It should be quite easy getting a good/neutral response once you have a grasp on their personalities, generally just respect them and don't pry too much. Just do what they want you to do or find a neutral point.

Moving onto resource management. The most common resource you'll get is food, but besides eating, you also have to burn them for warmth. It's not hard to keep the crew happy so far, so you could alternate between half rations and half heat each week and be fine, which is what I should've done. If people get sick, there are ways to immediately heal them, or if you don't want to waste resources, send them to the doctor and they'll be fine next week. But it's still a hard choice if you like the characters as much as I do.

There are some bugs, like resource cards turning black when I click them even though I can add more and a few letters extending far beyond my screen (might not be wide screen optimized yet). I also experienced a loading problem besides the game screen popping out. It's not a huge issue (or I'm just used to Fallout New Vegas), and devs are fixing them.

Even if you're not a Terror fan, give it a go if you like narrative-driven strategy games with an interesting cast and brilliant art style.

SPOILERS up to Act 2, maybe beyond!

I have a tendency to spoil endings for myself. I didn't watch any youtube videos, but I did go on the steam forums and read some reviews. But first:

I thought Templeton was definitely going to stab me in the back somehow (judging from one reviewer), but up till now he's just being pragmatic and giving sound advice, if not a little suspicious. It's not hard to get on his good side. And wow, the plant metaphor really suits him! Please don't stab me in the back.

Grimley, on the other hand... it's ok if you don't completely trust me, but you don't have to sing about it to everyone, especially if we're going to be stuck together for a long time. Seriously, everyone is loyal to me but him. What the hell do I have to do to make him at least tolerate me? Cool song though.

I knew Hammond was going to fight someone sooner or later. Great work ethic borderlining on obsessive, but if I tell him to take a break he'll be pissed. Hopefully with Timmy helping, he'll worry less. Nice sense of humour.

Kurt is fine, surprisingly not that arrogant for a celeb. He's definitely insecure about his age and use of a cane hindering his ability to help, but he's still knowledgeable.

Junior is more sociable and receptive, but I'm still suspicious of him, considering his closeness to Captain Hunt and his brother.

Kasha is nice and super helpful for morale. It's great that she warms up to the crew, especially Arthur and Kurt.

Speaking of warming up (heh), Arthur's relatable with his social anxiety and need to be reassured. He does start bonding with the others. Besides that, there's Cordell with her love of singing and theatre and dogs.

The character development is amazing. The most heartbreaking part for now is when all the characters say they might not make it back and tell you to look after their family/tell their family etc.

Other memorable characters include science couple, science gun guy, Thomas Blanky vibes, the gymnast, and Timmy and his da. Also Grips who told me was in the military (because I picked colonial).

Leave the ship a week after announced, before dinner.

Get the medical supplies for the expanded bed space, one set of digging tools, and the guns to get more food and defend against the seal asap. Use the shotgun if you don't wanna die!

Don't hesitate because you want to please both characters.

Theory:

The expedition is funded by the canned peach company. (Huh. Tins.) Templeton and most of the science staff are botanists. Why would you need botanists in the cold?

Captain Hunt said something like 'if I don't take this then others will'. Then he got drunk and left. It's definitely related to the expedition.

On the forums and in the achievements, I saw something about a 'tree' and 'fruit'.

The Viscount went to look for the Tree five years ago and vanished. The peach company hears about this and wants to find the tree and make money off the fruits, or the fruits are magical somehow and they want to exploit it. They organize the expedition in the name of finding the Viscount and send Templeton and the scientists to study the Tree. Hunt hears this somewhere, doesn't agree. He takes the job, deliberately choosing the path so we would get stuck in the ice, ignoring Kurt's advice. He sets off with some trusted crew members and leaves to find the Tree so we don't get to it. The rescue ship is to bring the harvested fruits back.

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

s1ep12 darkblade

the plot was fine. nothing really stood out to me. but we're already hitting episodes that feel like i've accidentally set it to 2x speed.

i do think that the writing choices here speak the overall mistreatment of marinette tho. like yeah, she manages to balance being ladybug and being class rep, but at what cost and to what end?

again, the writers somehow manage to write the show episodically while treating it like it's serialized. we never really see just how much being ladybug impacts her life, and when we do, it's very small things like comments about how she's late for class, or forgot homework, or smth. and yeah, sometimes it gets her into hot water, but by writing like it's episodic, it resets everything by the beginning of the next episode. so we never feel like she every finds a true balance.

as far was we're concerned, someone gets akumatized every day. and going by the episode, sometimes twice in one day!

idk how i wanna phrase this bc i gotta sleep soon, but i know the writers talked about how she has all this bad luck to counterbalance her as ladybug, but again to what end?

how is her taking on more responsibilities than she could possibly handle a good thing for her? i think that's what my main problem with this episode is. the fact that, despite her stating she can barely keep up her double-life, everyone, including the narrative, encourage her to try it anyway.

like i get taking a leap of faith to try new things and step out of your comfort zone, but there's also learning when to pick your battles and when not to spread yourself too thin. bc that's how you develop mental health issues, burnout, and end up accidentally hurting ppl in the process. like however unintentional that hurt may be.

going back to my point about the frequency of akumas, bc we never get a real handle on how frequent it is, we never get a feel on how well marinette is actually handling it. bc she never faces tangible consequences that we see from it--she only gets scolded every now and then.

it also makes it feel like the writers really didn't think about the logistics of the story, nor the powers.

the thing is, when sailor moon had to face enemies, each enemy always had a reason to choose one very specific person with presumed time between each attack (more than a couple of hours, at the least). that gave the girls breathing space to just exist, while still feeling like having to be sailor scouts impacted their life. but literally, hawkmoth seemingly jumps at the chance to akumatize anyone and everyone who has a negative thought or feeling across all of paris. that's too much!! that's too big a scale!! they really should have sat back and thought about the logistics of everything, but it's starting to feel extremely unrealistic.

and it's not like you can't have your antagonist do that. they really just needed more planning and forethought put into the show.

[qwanderer]

So I got my new laptop all up and running and after that I felt comfortable wiping and reinstalling the OS on my old laptop. It's a purple HP stream which has been running on Ubuntu 16 for like eight years or something. The touchpad has always been weird, so I've had tap-to-click disabled for pretty much that entire time, which made it work fine until recently when a) touchpad motion started glitching and I had to keep finding new ways to get it to reset and start behaving reasonably and b) the left click button started to wear out, probably from overuse, and stop registering clicks. So I was like "oh this machine is wearing out, it's on its last legs anyway, it's time to replace it" and anyway I like having a backup laptop that still mostly works, and the pink HP stream no longer counts because I killed its battery. I should hand that one in for recycling soon.

For a while I've had it in my mind that my next laptop was going to be a framework one, and maybe I could make it last longer because of the repairability factor. What actually triggered the purchase was the fact that the purple HP stream stopped getting updates for firefox on 16 LTS, and its specs are too low to upgrade to a later version of Ubuntu Desktop. Then the streaming services started refusing to work on the old firefox version.

The framework 13 model I built is great for streaming! The extra power really helps it stay smooth.

Anyway once I had that all set up and working, I looked at my old machine and was like "okay upgrading straight to desktop 22 is not going to work on this colorful toy of a laptop so I am going to try wiping the whole thing and replacing it with Ubuntu mate 22."

Well, now tap to click works fine, so the button wearing out is not such a big deal! There must be better drivers or something.

I chose a minimal install to save space, loaded most of my old files back on but no music, and I have 9gb remaining that I can choose what to do with. I could probably get both GIMP and LibreOffice on here, but the problem with that is then I start producing files. LibreOffice files are probably fine but GIMP ones can eat the space fast. I'm going to skip rhythmbox and do all audio things on my new laptop for now. I think I'll wait on the other downloads until I find I want them. It'll probably come up soon.

I downloaded redshift, because mate doesn't seem to have the night light utility that desktop 22 comes with, but it's not working. I might try and figure out how to fix it or I might just suffer through the blue light. It depends.

Anyway I think this purple one is going to stay as my default writing and fiddling around on the internet laptop for a while yet, so I can save the new one for streaming and other more processing intensive activities. Today I was watching a stream on discord on the new laptop and chatting about it on the old one! That was nice.

I've been too busy to write what with computer issues and helping my friend move, but it seems like those things have involved enough creativity to keep me from going bonkers so far! Still, I'm going to try to set aside some time for writing tomorrow after work, especially if I can't get any done the rest of tonight.

[mohhesham95]

Reset Button

Hello there! It's been a while. I miss writing, I truly do. It gives me some inexplicable joy. The past three years have been very turbulent for me. Starting with a world pandemic and then health problems for my favourite person in the world which scarred me without realising at the time, a failed relationship where I thought she was the love of my life and ending with me failing a very important career exam, twice. Pretty smooth, huh? I'm not the kind of guy who likes to complain or dwell on things. I like to always move forward and do better. But I feel drained, mentally and physically. I guess I gotta get used to adulthood. Life doesn't stop for your misery, apparently. Life has been hectic recently, and I feel like I need a break. I miss uni days, where I could just take a break, travel and explore some exotic country and then come back refreshed with a new apetite for life. I can't believe I just said that I miss uni days. Pretty ironic, that. I'm not writing this to feel sorry for myself. I want to vent all the emotions out so I can move on from all this. Seeing my mother struggling for her life took a lot out of me without realising. I couldn't let it out at the time. Everyone around me was struggling. It was unfair to them. The one person I really wanted to talk to was barely living. I didn't realise how much it affected me at the time because I was so focused on her recovery. Which I'm so grateful for. It was nothing short of a miracle. At the time, I was lost. I felt alone. That led me to a relationship which was not suitable for me. Not a bad person, just not suited for me. I found comfort in that relationship. It gave me hope. It gave me support. Everyone around me was concerned with multiple issues. Ironically, I was not blinded to those issues. I just thought that every relationship has its struggles and you gotta compromise sometimes. Which is true. But you can't compromise yourself. Which I unfortunately did. I put all my energy into this relationship, so it barely gave me any energy for anything else. I got far away from my family, my friends, and even my career. I didn't realise it at the time. I was trying to convince myself that I was happy, but I wasn't. I didn't want to admit that I was wrong. I didn't want to let go of all the memories. I didn't want to feel the same way again, like when my mother was sick. I didn't wanna feel alone, lost, and broken again. I was scared. I was scared to be alone. I was scared not to find someone who loves me. Maybe I still am. But at least now I have clarity, that I'm making the right decision. I was willing to compromise my happiness just not to feel that I let my partner down. I hate to feel that I let down people and she knew that. She pressured me to continue, just so I have to keep my word to her. Maybe I still let her down now, but I believe that heartbreak now is way better than me living with her while not happy. It was one of the most difficult decisions of my life, but I just had to do it. I just felt like I'm losing myself in her. I had to get myself back. Because I don't fail exams twice, that's not me. I don't treat my parents badly. I'm not a distant person. A good relationship should make you a better person. I was decieving myself that it was helping me become better, but it wasn't. I feel drained, but I wanna be better. I wanna make my parents proud. They never gave up on me even during the hardest of times. I'm so grateful for them. They deserve so much better from me. I'm determined to give them that. I'm writing this to remind myself that it will get better. I wanna go back to who I am. I wanna reset and start over. It's time to take a break, recharge, and then come back stronger and work harder than ever. I hope to start writing more often again. Hopefully, the next time we meet, I'll be in a much better place. Time to hit the reset button. See you soon!

[malevolententity]

WOE PROJECT 6 BE UPON YE

every day my patience with pattern markers grows thin. i can and will write essays about this franken pattern project that i Am calling done for now but i might do some more work on in the future. SO this is two patterns of the same concept that ive put together because i was not going to fully reset because the first pattern was absolute ass. i truly do not know if the issue was with me or the pattern as they would call for stitches and then tell you how to do the stitch and it was a different stitch! and i made sure it wasnt a uk vs us terms issue but i still had issues! the dud coaster is the darker blue one my mug is pictured on i like how after a lot of trial and error i got the flowers to look flowerish but idk not a big fan of it waaaay to much effort trying to make the stitches work that ill never work it up again. the basket is very pretty honestly but to actually hold the coasters ive had to stuff it with all my yarn scraps that m hoping to one day maybe turn into my own cobbled together yarn? because without the stuffing it just collapses from the weight of the coasters which is why! this project may not be done as there is another basket tutorial m looking at (that goes with the other 2 coasters i made) that based on how it looks is flatter and might hold the coasters much better. but that is definitely a thing ill work up down the road and Probably not tomorrow as i do adore the little basket i have now. AND SPEAKING OF THE TWO OTHER COASTERS i love the flower pattern the whole coaster was a time sink because of how the leaves must be worked but it was so very worth it. from project 3 (tarot sleeve) i still have a skein and a half of that red and purple that if i ever work up more of this specific flower pattern i might see what that yarn gives me! although most likely ill just find another flower pattern to try (theres a tulip one m interested in) so that every coaster is a different flower and looks the most like a bouquet as i can get. unfortunately i used acrylic yarn so i am loathe to use these with hot mugs but time shall tell with the shit coaster if i can use it with hot mugs long term!

also this project took roughly 6 hours with all the frogging trying to make the original pattern work and in generally learning 3 new patterns! (last hour and a half from episode 5 all the way to an hour into episode 7)

season 2 thoughts so far

dude can the lil guys just get a break? joui almost died AGAIN BUT LIKE A DEATH SAVE HAD TO HAPPEN LIKE BRUH LEAVE HIM ALONE FSDJKHFS arthur has had the worst fucking time and honestly i would not be surprised if towards the end of the season he does a suicide run because hes lost everything and everyone but ivete and idk if thats enough to keep him from going insane. i just. i dont know how to put episode 6 into words besides that i am soooo glad to have made it out of that episode because it was Heavy. episode 7 has been chill for the most part. they kept talking about sucking hoses. they kept saying various party members needed to strip to prove they were gonna start trying to shoot each other again. pretty normal table top hijinks and a good place to end for the night/the project.

i honestly have no idea what m making next. part of me Wants to try making a cardigan but all i have is acrylic which is itchy. and i def dont have the skeins for a whole cardigan plus cardigans i feel like would take minimum 22 hours? and i dont really. wanna have a 20+ hour single project. i like my current insanity of having done like 40ish hours of projects this past month and none of them going over 10 hours (besides the wretched bag). time to go through my ravelry in a few days time and see if anything jumps as being interesting or if m gonna have to spin a wheel to pick a project.