#ive been feeling worse about my bones lately

[shoveitevil]

thank you hunty schafer

[lulumilkshake]

head prank on jujutsu kaisen men

pairing(s): g. satoru, k. nanami, f. megumi, i. yuuji, r. sukuna

authors note: no guillotine could prevent the head id give gojo tbh 🥱 lowkey ooc on some but wtvs!

g. satoru -

it was one of the only days he’s had off of missions in awhile and he spent a portion of it playing video games😐

since you were feeling lonely you decided to scroll on your phone to find something to do, that’s when you decided to prank your blue eyed boyfriend.. by giving him a “blowjob”

as you entered his dorm, he didn’t even realize you were in there in the first place because he was so enamored with the video game he was playing

you tiptoed to his desk and tapped him on the back where he jumped a little bit at your touch

“hold on a second” he murmured before turning back to his game

that’s when you decided to take your plan into action 😈 and crawled down under his desk

when he saw you crawling under his playboy instincts immediately kicked in and this mf MANSPREADED💀

you put your hand on his thigh and then.. grabbed a charger you “forgot”!

he was in SHOCK that you would do this to him and completely turned off his game and picked you up to his lap and sat you on his thigh

“got me all hard, you’re gonna take care of it now, yeah?”

k. nanami -

he was finishing up some reports on some missions in his office.

you were feeling extremely bored (and lowkey horny) so you wanted to prank your extremely serious husband.

you put on his favorite nightgown and walked into his office like a vogue model 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

his eyes immediately turned to you eating you UP saying a quick formal hello and that’s when you started walking towards him

you crawled under his desk already seeing the affect the nightgown had on him before reaching up to spread his thighs

as he was about to unbuckle his belt you asked-

“wait do you think a balloon can blow up under water?”

he. got. PISSED.

not only was he stressed with work he had pent up sexual frustrations from EVERYTHING and this was his last straw

he picked you up and pinned you against his desk and exposing your panties

“don’t you have anything better to do then fucking tease me right now? now you have to be punished”

f. megumi -

he came back from a mission he had to finish up, and he looked like a mess

all sweaty, dirty and in need of rest

lucky for him he’s got a girlfriend who is about to make matters worse!

while he was out pretty much saving Japan you plotted a little plan to get back at your boyfriend for ignoring you today😡

he plopped down on his bed next to you not even saying a hello, ugh the nerve

because you didn’t wanna seem like a total asshole you quickly grabbed a washcloth cleaning him up before starting your plan 😈😈

“hey megumi..” you said in the sweet voice you know turns him on

he turned his head nodding as you crawled next to him

“ive had extreme needs lately, and maybe you have to?” you spoke seductively while straddling him with fingers going down to his v line

he gulped as you brought your head down to his belt, playing with it “what are you saying..?”

“i think you know what im saying…. I’VE REALLY BEEN CRAVING ICE CREAM LATELY! let’s go together now!” you said as you threw yourself on top of him.

bro was now SWEATY, TIRED, DIRTY, AND HAD A BONER. that’s crazy!!!! pretty sure his inner toji instincts about to jump ur bones atp

but fr he was not happy; his cold and usually comforting persona completely turned to a sexually pent up boy

he threw you on the bed like a rag doll, putting you ass up in the air💀💀

you SWORE he turned into toji fr

“all because I fucking ignored you once? you really need my dick that badly, huh? well you’ll take it all night then”

i. yuuji -

poor baby probably one of the only ones who doesn’t completely turn into a certified pussy destroyer 😢😢😢

you were watching a movie with him, a basic rom-com and you were a bit upset with him and he could tell

call yourself petty but you were angry because he ate the last ice cream sandwich when it had your name on it!😡😡

you never confronted him about it but he could tell you were angry at him for something so he was trying to do everything to make it up to you, even though he didn’t know what he did. (HES SOO PUSSY WHIPPED)

you decided to talk to him about it first

as he was extremely into the movie, he didn’t even notice that you tapped him to talk until you went down on the floor and crawled to his legs💀

as you crawled closer to his legs he also manspreaded™️

you placed your hands on his thighs as his breath hitched and then you….

“i am NOT happy with you right now😡” you said as you pouted between his legs

“huh..? um why did you go on the floor to say that..?” he asked confused and embarrassed for thinking he was gonna get a blowjob

“because I need a proper apology and the only way to get your attention right now is to make you think your getting a blowjob. feel ashamed.”

“im super sorry for.. whatever I did.. but i don’t know why your angry baby?”

yeah you thought he knew that you were angry because he ate the last ice cream sandwich but he didn’t 💀

you felt so bad so you gave the boy a proper blowjob, forgetting about the issue😭😭

after he found out that he upset you about that, he went out and bought more ice cream sandwiches and also a teddy bear

the only man who got his dick sucked without getting pissed!!🥳

r. sukuna -

uh yeah you got a death wish if you tryna pull this on him. not only will your pussy be destroyed after this, all of your ORGANS will be

but anyways.. you’ve realized that you’ve never pranked your sweet and loveable boyfriend before!🥰 so today you decided that you want to

as you walked into his room, he was sitting on his throne all high and mighty as usual

“what do you want, brat?” (a/n: wow he’s so hot guys i love when he destroys me! he loves my heart shaped sunglasses)

“i have something to gift you!” you gave him a sweet smile as he ordered you to come up

you kneeled down on your knees in front of him, asking for permission to touch him

yeah bro thought you were gonna give him a blowjob too so he agreed and you placed his hands on his thighs, as he shut his eyes

he noticed that you were taking too long to suck him off so he said something

“why the fuck are you taking so long?”

“because my gift is this!” you held up a flower… be so fr rn y/n

“are you fucking kidding me?”

he picked you up and threw you on his lap, ik that shit hurt too..

he pulled down the skirt you had down, as well as your panties

he bent you over his lap and slapped your ass

“not only are you being punished for thinking you could tease me you slut, im going to spank you until you bleed and cry out for my dick”

ian givin no warnings on this post what did u expect tbh

[alu3e]

hi this is my rant about songs i have connected with hobbit. it dosent really make sense at most points and is also really long drawn out!! so before you read this and rhink oh it will make sense no it wont thanks. its long btw! getting to ramble at midnight is my favourite thing :P

most of them i can see as edits in my head or somethinf like that so i think of specific scenes but i cant edit so it just. stays in my head.

ALSO! english is not my first language and i do not care for it. every mistake i make is not apologised for in any way and if i recognise it is a mistake it will stay there out of spite. i will not give in to thr english language.

link to more songs at the bottom!! this is nr 1

curses by the crane wives = bagginshield/thorin (i love the crane wives. thanks liv for introducing me and i love you forever.)

centered around verse 1 + 2, chorus :P most thought out one, so it all goes downhill from here. goes mostly line for line because ive been picking at this song for months and trying to make it bagginshield.

theres a fire in my brain, and im burning up: this one really just screams dragon sickness to me. like yeah hes fucking burning up hes dead

keep running for the sink but the well is dry: this one really just dosent make sense at all but its imprinted in my brain as bagginshield, the sink would be like thorin and then the well, thorin, has run dry by dragon sickness.. and the running dude is bilbo. still trying to think of this in another way but its hard.

every word i say is kindling but the smoke clears when youre around: once again, whos even surprised, dragonsick thorin! i should rename the title for this song in this ramble to dragonsick thorin. i wont do it. and the smoke clears when bilbo is around (queue acorn scene).. this might be just bad english, but kindling as in lighting a fire, the war i guess,, and then well. play acorn scene.

wont you stay with me, my darling, when my walls start burning down, down, down: more bagginshield for this line, i love them btw, thinking dragon sickness again and how bilbo was the one he trusted over his kin, saying they had taken the stone and all that shit. bad connection but walls burning down, more like being fucking corrupted by the dragon sickness. anyways having bilbo being the closest one idk man. its late over here.

this house says my name like an elegy, echoing where all my ghosts used to be: this is where i really start getting lost it only gets worse from here guys. (guys, i say to myself in the middle of the night) thorin being king and all that stuff but the sickness being passed down or whatever, sad fuckign shit over there. also I dont really know what elegy means. last part i dont really know about, but erebors fucking empty. very fucking empty. jk theres these 13 guys there. sorry losing the point but it makes sense i just dont have a clear connection. bully me for this one. or just please say something that connects it so i can go a little bit more insane.

theres still cobwebs in the corners, and the backyards full of bones: erebor being empty but the gold still being there, full of bones, sickness, idk really. im still tired.

wont you stay with me my darling when this house dont feel like home, when this house dont feel like home: more loose but i guess how balin/throin would tell bilbo (and have told like, kili and fili for ecample) about erebor, how its this great ass kingdom. and then when they get there its just not really thorins sick everything goes to hell war war war so house dont feel like home.

skip a few lines

the devils after both of us: THE GOLDDDD THE GOLDDDD GUYS THE GOLDDDD. ring for bilbo, the gold in erebor for thorin. gold. we dont like gold over here. get out if you like gold. jk please dont leave me im tired

lay my curses out to rest make a mercy out of me : idk the scene where Thorin dies he just wants to be friends (loser atleast admit youre in love) with bilbo again before he goes. oh i love them btw did i say that

i dont have much more for curses, love this song very much, but i cant really fit the rest of the song in much. if someone bothers to read this then youre so welcome to do it and tell me about it please. please please please please. ON TO THE NEXT ONE RAHHHJJ‼️

dog days are over by florence + the machine

another song i hold close to my heart even though its not my usual taste! this one dosent really have a line by line walkthrough like, ex, curses. some lines fit a little better, some dont..

i know (think.) dog days are like, the bad days? toss and turn it a few times and i think it fits the hobbit. everything nice. goes to hell. theres lots of other songs that are better for this but its just the vibes of the song that give it for me.

some lines that i just want to mention:

run fast for your mother, run fast for your father, run for your children, for your sisters and brothers: how the company is like a family, really, I guess. especially for bilbo because thats his found family. a whole other ramble about that. running out of erebor, to war. i think. this song is based on vibe not lines.

leave all your love and your longing behind, you cant carry it with you if you want to survive: this one is more, edit like based, cause think like everyone laughing having fun ex when kili and fili scare bilbo by the campfire and stuff, + rivendell. scare maybe isnt the best word idk, I think you can figure it out. theres not much like that left, they want to survive the war i guess fight for their kingdom if this dosent make sense blame how tired i am. barely keeping my eyes open at this point.

struck from a great height: fili i love you and you deserved nothing that happened to you. pls my girlfriend i love you btw fili.

next song :)

sleeping giants by the crane wives!

this one is also more of a thought out edit than connecting lines, but i want to talk about it anyway cause i really like this song. thats just the prompt for this entire ramble 'i really like this song'.

straight into lines on this one, not as much to talk about before.

i feel the mountains, shifting under me: this one makes more sense for the stone giants, than the second one which is erebor, i just think of the scene where he opens the door. take that and do what you will wtih it.

the sleeping giants are finally waking, waking finally: stone giants!

my pulse is clear rushing in my ears i hear something calling me: the arkenstone guys the arkenstone..... or also the gold thinking about the hes been down there for days scene where hes just in the gold man idk still very tired. ive said that alot of times now.

the moon is humming, lovley melodies: the moon, being the last light, showing the keyhole, lovley stuff. melodies

the forest echoes, the trees are crowing hungry: no, I dont know what crowing means and i wont go figure it out. abywyas, Mirkwood, the spiders, all that stuff.

this ones unclear. sorry bout that. just want to put sleeping giants in your head. its a great song.

tounges and teeth by (drumroll) the crane wives!!!!!!!

great song again. lovley even. lovley melody. lines are more spread out here, picking just a few really. this ones more like a listen and you just get it than a ah you can read my ramble and understand just based on the lines.

ive grown a mouth so sharp and cruel: dragon sick thorin!! bilbo going like oooh the dwarf i met in bag end wouldnt have said that youve changedddd youve changedddd. sorry i like that scene acrually. hes changed btw.

i will ruin you, I will ruin you: batfa bagginshield goes both ways acruallt. they just love each other that much.

its a habit, i cant help it : sickness he cant help that poor little king

i know that you mean so well but i am not a vessel for your good intent: vessel isnt the best word here but SUE ME i didnt write the song. bilbo ment well with the arkenstone but obviously thorin being mindfucked and sick he cant see that.

i will only break your pretty things, I will only wring you dry of everything, (i will poison all your happy thoughts): well. thorin and bilbo!!! the sickness breaking their relationship. obviously that had to be a pretty thing considering bilbo couldnt even SAY WHAT THORIN MRNT TO HIM. also another ramble ugh k think about it every single day. i will poison all your happy thoughts, being i guess the sickness as well. counting in on this same one.

i love you like the ashes in my cigarette box: the gold. thorin loving bilbo more than the gold because jghgbgbn the mithril SHIIIRTTTTT guys the shirt.

this ones unclear. listen to the song. please. its very good.

---

i was supposed to add time will change you by the crane wives here, ill reblog sometime and do it. havent really picked at that one much yet.

thats it! if you read it, im sorry! if you didnt read it, thats what i expected! just rambling. I really like music and hobbit, so. this took about an hour to just write. maybe one day ill make one for lord of the rings trilogy.

this is, quite clearly, movie based. if anyone has any ideas from the book that fits,.. tell me. if youre the person who commented something about red clay (tcw) and frodo, please tell me more. ive lost the post it was from and it drives me insane. thanks for reading my nonsense post.

[1] [2]

[morgana-ren]

Come down to the Black Sea VI

I just realized I never even posted part fucking six on here, so here's a read-up before I post chapter VII.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, attempted assault, slight sexual content, one very pissy, overgrown fish and bad writing. It will get worse. Just trust me on this one. I don't write anything without gratuitous smut in it. It's sorta my baliwick.

In other news, several bodies were found mutilated along the south beach early this morning leaving investigators absolutely baffled. At least two women and one man are dead– but how? The police seem entirely unsure. They say it’s too early for a definitive call, but speculations range from-

You’re convinced the world has gone absolutely mad. 

Watching the news as you’re grasping at straws to find the motivation to continue living, getting ready for work and venturing outside your apartment again probably isn’t the best call, but given how insane things have been lately, it’s hard not to watch with a macabre fascination. It’s like watching a train go off the rails in real time. 

Horrifying, but you have a difficult time tearing your eyes away.

‘-unlike anything we’ve ever seen. They were just left completely bare in the sand 20 feet from the parking lot where kids could have found them. The ferocity of the attack is– well, it’s horrifying. We’ve got officers working the scene who have been on the force for 20 years and haven’t seen anything like this. We’re working overtime to try and discern the nature of these attacks so that their loved ones and the general public can rest assured-’

Things used to be quiet here. Slow and simple and easy. A tad boring at times, but danger was far from most people’s thoughts. The biggest threat one could face on a daily basis was a sudden, violent shift in the tide or a tricky undertow hellbent on sucking you under. Maybe a particularly tumultuous storm, on a really bad day.

But that’s before he arrived, isn’t it? 

‘-ruled out any sort of foul play. What happened here early this morning is a tragedy, and we can’t say for certain, but the evidence points toward some sort of animal attack, likely a predator driven from their habitat by-

Separating yourself from the situation has made it seem even more surreal than it did to begin with. Now that you’re not attending your nightly meet-ups with Shigaraki, it’s allowed you some time to reflect on just how odd the entire ordeal really was. Feeling like a fool is a hard pill to swallow, especially when he was so upfront with his intentions from the get-go. Why you ever expected him to actually care is beyond you. 

For one measly, shitty little minute, you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. Caught up in the illusion, it was all too easy to believe that this creature with claws for rending human flesh and teeth for gnashing bone could have the capacity to care for you to some degree. The congratulations he’d given you when you told him you found someone seemed as genuine as you could get from him, and he’d listened quietly– albeit with a few eye-rolls– to your endless babbling about how you felt renewed and he’d given you to motivation to start trying again with his weird philosophy of ‘do what you have always done and you will remain as miserable as you always are’-- even if that wasn’t exactly what he’d meant. 

But that’s his nature isn’t it? Spinning pretty lies into an ensnaring web of beautiful falsehoods. Luring you in with those beautiful eyes designed to reel foolish humans like you in and yanking you under when you go to reach for him, both metaphorically and literally. He’d told you what you wanted– or needed– to hear at the time and banked on the opening it left and the trust you’d given him after. 

Forgiving him for his little flare-up that night had even been easy to achieve after a few drinks and a quick pep-talk. He’d waited the next evening– much like he always did– at your rock, for you to sit with him. It’s not in his nature to apologize, but he was more than willing to carry forward even given your hesitance. Words like ‘patience’ and ‘understanding’ might be a bit far-fetched, but it was more than you thought you could expect from him nonetheless.

It seemed, for one fleeting moment, like everything was okay.

You were practically raised on tales of nefarious sea creatures that lull you into a false sense of security and then feast on your viscera. So why did you think your fairytale ending would be any different?

Heroine syndrome is a fair guess. Everyone wants to be special. Everyone wants to be the weakness cradled in the monster’s ribs– the weight they carry willingly. It’s a stupid little dream a lot of kids have, to grow to become revered in the arms of a titan, to be swept away from the mundane life they’ve come to know. 

But the original fairy tales don’t have a happy ending. They weren’t written with happiness in mind. Princes are often fools and monsters are just that– monsters. They’ll rip you apart if you give them the chance and your memory will be used as a cautionary tale. A beautiful beast is still just that: A beast. 

Endearing yourself to him had been a foolish venture, and if you hadn’t been so clouded by your own vanity, you might have seen that. You had been toying with a very dangerous, very real predator and opted to treat it like he was a mere fish in a tank, despite how many times he’d almost killed you. 

The wound on your arm pulses, and you can’t help but run a finger over the gnarled skin, puffy and barely healed. You’d only recently been able to remove the bandages, and it was probably fair to say that it would scar over something nasty. A constant reminder of your short-lived time with him. One you would carry for the rest of your days. A reminder of what dwells deep in the ocean and why you should keep very, very far away, even as the ache deep in your gut never dulls and the restlessness breeds a garden of misery that suffocates you. 

‘-urge all beach goers to exercise caution at this time and try to avoid visiting after dark until we know what it is we’re dealing with. If you have any information, please call-’

Your finger finds the big red button on the remote, flipping the TV off. You’ve heard enough for today. There’s more misery on your plate than you can finish in one sitting, and drowning yourself in it isn’t going to do anything decent for your mental health. Not when you’re mourning a loss you can never speak to anyone about and a betrayal—

Does it really count as a betrayal though? 

It sure as hell hurts like one. 

It’s probably your own fault, but stabbing yourself doesn’t make the wound any less painful. When you’re lonely, you’ll reach for any driftwood your listless body wades to. 

You offered the sea your loneliness and she gave back what she could: a lesson. 

You’d like to think you’ve learned from the experience, that you’ll never let yourself be fooled by supernatural beauty and wonder ever again, but if the wendigo or chupacabra knocked on your front door to ask for some sugar, you’d probably give it to them. 

Humans just don’t learn. Shigaraki was right. It’s amazing we’ve gotten this far. 

You sling your work bag over your shoulder, wondering briefly if he's shouldering the same burden as you; does he feel this hollow ache in your absence? 

He’s probably more pissed off that his dinner reservations got canceled. 

It’s a pathetic line of thought, but that strange emptiness refuses to listen as you rationalize with it. You’d been dumb enough to count him as a friend– albeit a very licentious, very moody one– even though he’d made a point to never tell you as much. You’d viewed your relationship with him through rose colored glasses and it left you completely incapable of seeing all the red flags, even as he made no effort to hide them. 

Now that he’s gone, it’s back to a lackluster existence– minus the sea. The sea that you’re surrounded by and can somehow never touch again. There’s not a doubt in your mind that if you were to touch the water, somehow he would know and find you again, and judging by the world class fit he threw, he’d have no qualms about just killing you this time. 

In a way, you had grown to actually care for him a little. Or maybe that was a strange form of Stockholm syndrome. Either way, he still seemed like a friend, and it hurts a bit that he’s no longer a part of your life, though perhaps a part of that is the human arrogance of losing a supernatural buddy.

Who else can say they’d befriended a siren, after all?

Ideally you could take your mind off of it and focus on work, but the sad truth of the matter is that you’re likely just going to fixate on it while your job finishes dead last in the mental race of ‘things I give a good goddamn about right now.’ 

Tomura would have told you that if you hated it, you should quit. Why force yourself to do something you hate? 

But Tomura isn’t here. 

The most you can do is pray it’s a slow day and that your boss doesn’t notice you slipping. No way to explain that, after all. 

With every last ounce of willpower you can muster, you manage to tie your shoes and lock your front door, slipping out into the streets. 

The streets are crowded and filthy and rotten and loud , the tarmac packed with vehicles and the sidewalks blotted with all manner of people. Self-important businessmen shouting into their phones, aimless sightseers, and hoards of shrieking children barely clinging like a thread to their mother’s hands while being herded like cattle to whatever unfortunate restaurant will host them that evening.

He ignores them all, leaving the responsibility to dodge his hulking body wholly on them as he storms forwards towards his destination: You . 

Where that is exactly, he doesn’t know, but he follows your scent– still thick on the scrap of fabric he keeps fastened to his wrist– deeper into the city and away from the waters he calls home. 

The sensation of shoes on his feet is deeply unpleasant, and the clothes he’d stolen from his breakfast were ill fitting and uncomfortable, leaving him shifting and squirming and resisting the urge to shred it clean off. Anger burns a hole in his gut at having to cover his form simply for their sake, but there’s more important matters to attend to, and as much as he’d like to think that he could, taking on an entire city’s worth of humans outside of his home turf might be a bit of a stretch. Rather than giving into his rage, he keeps the hood firmly yanked up over his silver hair, his features hidden behind the thick curtain of his bangs and his hands firmly shoved into the kangaroo pouch. 

From an outside perspective, he looks like a drugged up local with a pituitary problem on a particularly bad trip, but he could care less about what the human infestation around him thinks. So long as none of them bother to look for too long, he’ll leave them be. For now. 

Agony still wracks his bones and relearning to walk on two legs is humiliating in a way he doesn’t care to think on, but the rage carries him through. The human body is disgusting. How you exist like this is beyond him, but it offers you one singular advantage that he couldn’t overcome in his true form– the ability to find shelter away from him on land, far from the reach of his claws. Far away from him. 

It’s a testament to how much he hates you that he subjects himself to this. 

You dared to defy him not once– not twice– but three times, only narrowly escaping your fate each time, and then you had the audacity to just leave . He should have killed you. He should have. It was a mistake, and one he swears won’t happen again. This time, when he finds you, he’ll do what he should have done from the start. 

You won’t talk or enthrall your way out of it this time. He’s going to get what he came for. His pride demands it.

But you’ll figure that out soon enough, won’t you?

[pixelatedbugs]

okok great god grove thoughts ive beaten the game now

god damn! first game i've beaten this year and i've found peak already. every game i play after will be worse /j seriously i really enjoyed it, i knew i'd like it i mean i loved smile for me, but wow! this game made me change my profile picture!

but anyway. i'm not great at explainin my feelings about things. but this game made me really really happy when i've been kinda feeling Shit and Ass lately. the message about connection really struck me hard as someone who's always struggled to connect with people myself..but people will listen if i try! i hope!

gameplay wise i reaallly like the puzzles. the difficulty of them felt like it progressed smoothly and they were all super clever too, but not too difficult that i ever felt like i needed to look anything up! same goes for the boss fights, which i didnt expect to exist at all honestly (the first boss had me like "omg the bizzyboys hiiii!!!!! hey why does this place look like an arena Hey") i really like all of the gods, if i was forced at gunpoint to pick a favorite i'd probably say bauhauzzo but i really like cobigail too. and huzzle mug, click clack, thespius, mitternacht, king, inspekta and whoops i've just listed all of them. but i mean how can i not they're all so good??? i like bauhauzzo and huzzle mug's story a lot it just makes me so happy to see a super close friendship given the same importance as a romance yknow what i mean. they're besties and they care so much about each other ooughgughdsnfjn. and i would hang out with cobigail every day btw she's so silly but also super caring i love herr. i love the bizzyboys sm. capochin being so desperate to feel important, to have a purpose, the devotion burger recipe video drives me Normal????? i can't word it but i need to throw capochin out of a window. the need to feel important the need to have purpose the blind following of inspekta because he thinks inspekta will give him that. also he's a little gay for him i think. patty learning to stand up for herself PATTY I LOVE YOUUUU transfem patty is real to me by the way. i love her i mean she's my pfp rn you can probably tell. vib getting a little too into the thought of capochin being sweaty and dirty was hilarious to me btw i respect him for it. i hope the bizzyboys are able to truly help people now under hector's leadership and man, the finale...ouuh if i didnt have dry eye i would've cried so hard. the LEITMOTIFS!! everyone working together to close the rift...inspekta/hector realizing what he's done wrong and doing his best to fix it, returning to humanity forever to remember who he is...and king! king reuniting with mitternacht WUAHG THEY'RE SO CUTE??? the fact that she calls mitternacht a bag of bones (affectionate) and she has a MATCHING HEART SYMBOL??? OIHUIHG?? im normal btw. im so happy hector gets to have a hopeful ending too anyway really good game its somewhere in the top games ive ever played list i wish i could write the kind of awesome analysies other people do but. alas! i really like it and i need to draw myself as a bizzyboy right now tl:dr

[nhstadler]

3 9 7  P A G E S

Hey everyone! I realised it's been forever since I posted anything and since I'm not quite finished with the chapter, I thought I'd at least post a story snippet to let you know that I haven't fogotten about you and about HNTBAW. It's just been a little much lately and I've been struggling with writer's block (as always).

But anyway, this is a random scene from the post Hogwarts series (which I might title A Catalogue of Us). It's kind of a flashback memory sort of thing and maybe it's a little confusing and sad, but maybe some of you enjoy it. I hope you had wonderful holidays / Christmas if you celebrate it and I promise I'm still writing.

Let me know what you think if you feel like it... hearing from you guys always helps my motivation, honestly :)

When James fell, the world stood still. I stood still. 

Sometimes I still dream about it. His muddled form falling through the sky, the burst of levitation spells in the pouring rain, like perverse fireworks, missing him again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could have done and yet… 

And yet.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to banish the scraps of the nightmare that still cling to my mind as I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The air is crisp, laced with salt and the subtle sweetness of the heather that grows along the cliffside, trembling in the breeze. I’ve been staring at the horizon for almost an hour, watching the darkness fade into that bluish glow that only exists in these few minutes before sunrise, when the world is in-between. Like the sky holds its breath for just a moment.

Like I held my breath when I was an ocean away, unpacking my old life into my new flat, barely paying attention to Ludo Bagman’s tinny commentary in the background. I didn’t even know why I had turned on the match in the first place. I should have stayed away, taken advantage of the physical distance, but there was comfort in the familiarity of it. In hearing his name chanted by thousands of voices. I missed him and I hated him a little for it. And then I heard the screams. 

I thought I had lost him before, but this was so much worse.

***

The room is bright, made of sun-drenched walls and filled with flowers and too many people. But I barely notice. James isn’t moving. There is a tangle of tubes, pumping healing potion from the IV bags into his system, mending his broken bones and his cuts and gashes as much as it can. But even magic can only do so much. 

Ginny sees me first. I’m lingering in the doorway like an intruder, not sure if I have a right to be here. I couldn’t not come. I don’t know what to say, though. My throat closes off when our gaze meets over the hospital bed. She’s clutching James’s hand in both of hers like she’s holding on for dear life, her eyes brimming with tears, and I’m crying too, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from sobbing.

“Seth!” Lily calls out, making both Harry and Al look up, but I still don’t know if I’m welcome. Not until Ginny lets go of her son and extends her hand towards me, the faintest of smiles curving her mouth as she summons me to his bedside.

I want to touch him, to feel that he is still here, warm and real and alive, but I don’t dare. There are too many IV lines and bandages and I’m afraid I might hurt him. “How - how is he?”

It’s a useless question, I know it, but there’s still the naive hope that the answer might have changed. That he’ll open his eyes and give me that infuriating half-smile, calling me Woodley and telling me that everything will be alright.

“I’m sorry,” someone says behind me and I turn around to look at the healer that has come into the room. “Only family is allowed in here.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 

I make to get up, wiping away the tears with shaky fingers, but Ginny’s hand circles my wrist, her bloodshot gaze firmly on the woman in the lime green coat. “She is.”

***

I wanted to buy him some magazines, but half of the stock in the small St. Mungo’s kiosk is about brooms and Quidditch and the other half are gaudy newspapers that still seem to be in a competition over who can print the most disturbing pictures of James plummeting through the air. I was ready to give up and settle on the Kneazle Lover’s Digest when I saw the flashy book pyramid by the checkout. 

“I got you something.” I’m barely in the room when I hold up the shiny hardback with the gaudy cover and James raises an eyebrow at the shirtless guy that takes up most of the front.

“Holy Morgan, what is that, Woodley?” He lets his head fall to the side, smiling at me, even though he is too weak to move. Bruises and scratches still paint brutal patterns across his skin, covering his face and neck, his shoulders, his ribs, but they’re healing. 

Unlike his legs. 

“They had it in the hospital bookshop!” I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down in the chair next to his bed, thumbing through the pages, because this feels like a sign. A very dumb sign, but a sign nonetheless, and I’ll take anything I can get. “No way!” I press the open page against my mouth, my eyebrows arching at James over the edge of the book.

“What?” He’s frowning, amusement still tugging on the corners of his mouth. 

“It’s set in the 1800s.” 

He groans, though the grin on his face definitely dampens the effort. Rain is lashing against the windows, drowning out the steady drip of the IVs and, for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like Sunday mornings at his and Freddie’s flat, when he would refuse to get up and pull me back into bed with him.

“I’m so excited.”

“I bet.” He’s laughing, properly now, and my heart flutters behind my chest. It should know better. Especially because I saw her name flash across his phone screen last night before I left. “How long is that damn thing?”

I flip to the very back of the book, catching a few of the final words even though I try to not read them. “397 pages.”

***

“How many pages?”

He used to ask how many chapters. Then it turned to pages. Because he knows it too - that we only exist like the words on paper, between the pages. Until we reach the last one. The last sentence. 

“191.”

When the story ends, so do we. But ours is a tragedy. Maybe it was always meant to be.

I come back every day. I sit next to his bed and read A Witch’s Guide to Rakes and Romance, blushing fiercely at the spicy scenes but reading it all. James covers Lily’s ears when she’s cuddled up next to him and she complains loudly while Al and Freddie laugh and Harry and Ginny exchange soft, tired smiles.

Sometimes, the room is crowded. Sometimes, it’s just us - James and me and the steady whirring of the machines - and I read to him until he falls asleep. I read to him until twilight creeps into the room and we have to turn on the neon hospital lights. 

I read to him until he can feel his legs again. 

Until the IV lines become less.

Until he can sit up by himself.

“How many?” He says and I don’t look at him.

“16.”

It’s the last chapter. And, though I know that it’s time to go, that this semi-real version of us has an expiration date, I dread every page I turn.

“What if you stayed?” James says, quietly, and I feel like I might choke. I can barely breathe.

What if I stayed?

“I - I can’t.” My fingers are clenching the book in my lap, digging into the cover for something to hold on to. This feels awful, like a second break-up, and I wish I could just fold myself into his arms. 

But I can’t and he doesn’t argue. Because he knows me too well.

His lips are pressed together as he nods, a tear sliding down the side of his face into his pillow and I’m crying too. When he reaches out, I take his hand and weave my fingers through his, careful to not dislodge the catheter in the back of his hand.

“Do you want to hear the ending now?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and his gaze slides from my face to the book in my lap, to our intertwined fingers.

“No.” I feel his hold on me loosen, his hand slipping out of my grasp a little. “I don’t want to know how it ends.”

[syncopein3d]

Broken World II

CW for this entire story: non-lethal but serious injuries, personal betrayal, angst, medical restraint, drugging. I've been seeing more from @whumperofworlds lately and it got me thinking about how the Used As Bait trope would play out with a couple of my OCs in this little superhero/supervillain universe, so I've decided to be mean to Ripper and Bloodless again. : ) Part I here is a bit of setup.

1. Changed

The Ripper was aware of some things before others. There were sounds: something humming, something beeping, a low bone-deep vibration coming from somewhere around and below it. There were sensations: a deep persistent ache inside, everywhere, and a cold prickling sensation outside on its skin. They tried to shift position and were stopped at wrists, at ankles, at the waist, but no cloth intervened between them and the air. Whatever was under them gave a little, but it was also cold and rubbery. Whatever held them down was rougher, rugged – canvas?

Now it had come back enough to think of words. Something hurt in the corner of their elbow, but not badly compared to the rest of its body, more noticeable as pressure and pull. Bright light seared into its eyelids, hinting at worse revelations. It didn’t try to open them.

“The ceretol is wearing off,” said a heavily accented voice from somewhere above and to their right. “Try not to move yet. The infusion is complete, but you’re still changing.”

“I know you,” they said.

“Yes, I am Doctor Hale. Do you remember why you’re here?” She sounded chilly, slightly distant, only a little interested. Another day at the office. Not someone working for an insurance company that was going to be sending a patient survey later.

Ripper hunted through the fog and finally managed to trap some loose memory before it could lope away into the comfortable darkness. “Carnite,” they said. “You said you could fix me.”

“I think you will find that I agreed to try. ‘Fixed’ is an extremely relative term,” Hale said.

“Where’s my mask?”

“I need to monitor the changes. So far it seems to be more at the level of cellular reorganization, as intended with the compound I made. You became intractable after the infusion began and I was forced to sedate you to prevent you from pulling the line out.”

Intractable. Now it remembered sitting on the edge of the padded table as she – very dark, very tall, hair twisted into a million little braids that were then twisted into a huge bun – thumped at its elbows to look for a vein for the IV. That had only hurt a little, and then she hooked the IV bag up to the cannula and it tasted something sour and the pain started. It was like a separate needle found every single cell in its body at once, and stabbed, and twisted. For what felt like an hour it had hurt so bad its vision went white and black, strobing in between views of the room, and they were almost sure they’d been screaming. They might have pissed themselves, they still weren’t sure.

It must’ve only been a minute or so in real time before she was able to get hold of the IV port and inject it with something milky and light blue, and shortly after that a feeling of giddy euphoria washed through them that swirled around into – now. The time in between was just gone. They still felt that slightly weird floaty feeling in their head. It wasn’t the only time they’d experienced ceretol, the chimeric miracle drug that adapted to every body size so everybody went down and nobody OD’d. It was just the only time it had been medical. It wasn’t something that was normally used for surgery. Which this hadn’t been, it supposed.

“Still hurts,” the Ripper said.

“Yes, it will likely continue to be painful for some time yet. I will give you more ceretol.” Rustling noises: she was moving now as she spoke.

“Wait,” the Ripper said. “How long has it been?”

“Fifteen hours.”

“Is that norhhhhhmmmm,” they were hardly aware of the syllable stretching out to slushy nonsense as every feeling became fast, wonderful flight, every nerve became a pleasure nerve for a startling endless second, and then –

It could hear things again. Quieter this time. Just a distant hiss of HVAC somewhere. They were more surprised to realize that nothing hurt. The Ripper squinted their eyes open carefully on much dimmer light than before. Now it was lying on its side on a narrow bed with a blanket over it, and – it peered under the blanket. They were still naked, but they could feel the pressure of the N95 on their face now, where it belonged. They exhaled slowly as they sat up.

The recovery room was mostly empty except for the narrow bed in the middle of it and a counter off to one side with a sink. The clothes they’d brought to change into – boxers, gray sweats, navy blue tank top. Their white sneakers were lined up on the floor facing the counter. There was no mirror. The Ripper looked itself over as thoroughly as it could, but found nothing unexpected: brown skin, shaved head, couple of scars from old injuries and a T-shaped one under each nipple, piece of cotton taped in the bend of the elbow.

It held its hands clasped and pulled them apart, tearing a hole in reality. The opening into the Other Place showed a roiling mess of uncolor and then another hole, which showed a view of the Ripper from above because it had opened into the ceiling. But nothing hurt. Nothing HURT. It breathed faster as they realized that, but their chest felt fine. Their lungs filled and emptied without scratching, gurgling, coughing. They let go and the holes snapped shut. Still no pain.

It got up and padded over to the counter to start getting dressed, moving carefully at first, still a little giddy. Right, it wouldn’t be sure it had really worked until the drugs wore all the way off. But they didn’t believe Hale had deceived them. This wasn’t the first time they’d come to her, and she was never subtle. Their phone was there on the counter, still locked. They poked awkwardly at it one-handed as they pulled their pants up with the other hand.

They had a text. That happened occasionally. They hadn’t done a job for anyone but themselves for a while now, but people would still ask. The Rat turned up every few months, and he was always after stealing something, not murder, so once in a while they humored him. The Ripper half-expected it to be from Rat, so when it was an unknown number, they assumed it would be spam.

They read over it twice before they understood it.

Hey, this is Robert. I got this burner number from Tocsin last week and you don’t wanna know what I had to do to get this phone in here. I got arraignment in Tacoma on Thursday the 12th. They move me tomorrow. I know you don’t need money now but whatever you want to come get me, I’ll pay it.

Hope to God you’re still using this phone. I can’t go to jail, Thing. The lab will get me. Please, you got to do me this favor.

Please

The Ripper stood there, one hand holding its pants around its hips, for a long few seconds. He’d called them Thing again. He’d remembered.

Then it sent back:

What time leave Weds?

9:30 from FDC SeaTac’s meta wing, Robert replied immediately.

Break the phone now. See you soon.

The Ripper opened a microtear between two of its fingers, snapping the burner phone in half, then in quarters. They tossed it into the trash by the counter and scrambled into their clothes, swearing quietly. It was Tuesday night. Had they - ? No, it was half on delivery. It tore the world again to push their head and shoulders into the stale air of a buried coffin to get the prepared plastic bag. Each inch-long shard of carnite looked red and streaky, like an ugly jasper with veins of garnet, but it was warm to the touch even through the ziploc. Ripper fumbled around for a stack of thousands held together with a rubber band as well.

They went to the door and jerked it open. There was a sterile white hallway there, much brighter than the recovery room. A couple of steel carts stood against the walls.

“Hale!” Their voice wasn’t hoarse any more. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d heard themselves in their own ambiguous middle-pitch without it being scratchy.

A door opened and shut somewhere, and then the smoky glass double doors at the end of the hall hissed open to spit out Dr. Hale in her lab coat.

“There is a call button,” she said.

“Lift the field. I have to go; I’ve got a job.”

“Vigorous activity is contraindicated,” Hale said flatly, as she accepted the bag. She eyed the bills suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“A tip. They’re not marked. What’s contraindicated?”

The physician grunted as she turned back toward the doors, holding the little bag in the fingers of one hand as she flipped bills with her thumb. “Come. I will verify. If you raise your heart rate too early and too frequently, there is risk of cellular instability. You could mutate. Lose your abilities or develop changes to your physical form.”

“But tearing isn’t bad?”

“I would not speculate. You interact with another dimension. This is outside my area of expertise,” Hale said. Ripper followed her back through into a larger laboratory space. Benches full of gleaming equipment whose purpose it mostly couldn’t identify lined the walls. It knew the autoclave and a microscope, and it guessed that the carts squatting beside a restraint table were a cauterizing scalpel station and an anesthesiologist’s cart with a ventilator. The rest might have been a meth lab or a cupcake bakery for all Ripper knew.

Hale went to one of the scopes and used tweezers to dig out a chunk of carnite from about halfway down the bag. Her back was never completely to the Ripper as she tucked the stone onto a little viewing platform and bent to look into the twin eyepieces. Then she poked it with the tweezers from a couple of angles, turned it over, and poked it again.

“The carnite is good. As your physician, I still suggest you stay for observation for another ten to twelve hours.”

“I can’t,” Ripper said. “Lift the field.”

Dr. Hale lifted one shoulder minutely, lips pursed. “I have my fee. You assume all risks of ignoring my recommendation.”

“As always,” the Ripper said.

“You haven’t asked for testosterone.”

“I’m not taking it any more,” the Ripper said.

“Why?” Hale asked. “Will you be wanting breast replacement? I have been experimenting with a new growth process for - ”

“No. I like not having tits. I just don’t like being that hairy,” the Ripper said. “I’m not a man, either.”

“Very well. If you require additional treatment or modifications, you know how to contact me. I am lifting the field now.” Dr. Hale straightened, one hand on the bag of carnite, and snapped her fingers.

“Thank you,” the Ripper said.

“Go quickly.”

Part II: Bait

[zombie-rott]

"Burying myself alive: Part II."

Prompt: “Have you eaten anything?”

Pairing: Established Papa IV/ Reader

POV: You / Your 

Pronouns: She/her

Synopsis:

You haven't been coping lately, and things are getting stressful as the new tour dates approach. You don't know how you're going to survive without him, especially when feeling so vulnerable, and take to running to calm your anxiety.

But, even as a seasoned runner, you neglect yourself. Slowly you began slipping back into a world you promised you never would.

Notes:

This is a short, two-chapter (because it was way too long for one Tumblr post) personal piece. It is based on a conversation had by my husband and me many years ago after I relapsed pretty hard into Anorexia Nervosa. I don't have a lot of memories from that time (or previous relapse because, well, long-term side effects), but this is one of the conversations I will never be able to forget.

It's also now that I realise all the fluff I write about Copia is literally just how my husband is. Do with that what you may.

!WARNINGS!

Mentions of anorexia nervosa, eating disorders, and mental health issues.

Part I

~ ~ ~ ~

“La mia bellezza?” 

You wiped your eyes and looked up to see Copia coming your way. You hadn’t even noticed you’d reached the end of your route. 

“You didn’t run today? Perché amore?” 

“I-I just couldn’t.” You sniffed, as you closed the distance.

He looked at you with furrowed brows and handed you a mug of coffee. Black this time, with sugar. 

“You’ve been crying, amore.” He said softly,” Please, talk to me.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tight to his body. You allowed it and leaned into him as he began walking you both back into The Abbey. 

“I just couldn’t run. Everything hurts, and I just don’t have the energy to push myself.” You answered, your voice breaking.

“Have you eaten anything this morning?” His voice was soft but stern. 

He’d been worried about you over the last few weeks. You’d been running more than usual and eating less, and he couldn’t help but notice the weight you’d lost. Your body didn't feel the same beneath his and your hip bones had become more prominent than usual.

After what happened during the last tour, he knew to remain vigilant and learned to recognise signs of relapse. But things had been going well until now. You’d gained a little weight and taken your medication as prescribed. You’d even been talking about the idea of weaning off it, just to see how you felt. Just to see if the depression had passed.

This time, however, things were getting worse before he'd even left, and it broke him to think about leaving you like this. 

“Cara mia? You have eaten today, si?” He asked again.

“N-no. But I did try.” 

Copia didn’t respond. He just signed deeply. You felt the pit in your stomach deepen.

“I’m sorry. I-I just can’t eat. Nothing tastes right. And I’m not hungry.” 

“Mia, you still need to eat. How do you expect to run so much with no energy? Your exercise is important, si?” You knew he wanted to continue on to talk about your health being important, and his own mental health never surviving this tour if you didn’t start looking after yourself. 

His raised words echoed in your mind.

"Don't you understand that watching you waste away is eating me alive?! How can I leave you like this, mia!? Bene?"

You felt the tears over flow again. You sniffed and wiped your eyes with your scarf. 

“Please don’t cry, mia. I don’t mean to upset you.” He pulled you closer and you felt his lips kiss the top of your head, “I love you, and I just want to see you well. I know not having me around for a few weeks - “

“Months.” You cut in.

“Si, months, is difficult. But remember you can call me anytime. We can even speak on the ‘Doom,’ si? And then there is Terzo. He is always there for you to talk to when things become too much. You can do this. And you know I’ll be missing you every second of every day?” He kissed your head again, “Please, mia. Please keep fighting.” 

At that moment, you so desperately hated yourself for allowing this to happen, for being so needy that you were hurting yourself to get him to stay. Your stomach twisted with anxiety, and in an attempt to stop the tears, you decided not to answer him. 

He didn’t say another word. He didn’t even speak when you entered your quarters, nor when you began to undress for a shower. You took the silence to mean that he was angry, or at least irritated. And you didn’t want a repeat of last night.

You were going to lose him to eight weeks of non-stop touring, and there you were, driving a wedge between you both because you couldn't manage without him. It sounded so dramatic and childish. 

Your heart stung as you berated yourself for being so unstable that you couldn't even let your love, your Copia, do the job he’d been chosen to do. You felt ashamed that you were making him feel conflicted between you and his Dark Majesty. 

It was all you could do to silence your whimpers as you turned on the water. You stood there biting back tears as you waited for the shower to warm. It felt like an age until you could climb under the faucet and allow the heat to wash over your bones. It felt good. It soothed your muscles and helped silence the world around you. 

And then the tears came. You buried your face in your hands as you cried. Sobs wrecked through your body as you felt a sea of emotions overcome you. Angry at Copia for leaving, anxious about your time without him and, most of all, ashamed of just how weak you had become. You couldn't even be apart from him without breaking down, without slipping into old behaviours. 

How had you let it get this far? How had you not seen the signs before they hit you like a ton of bricks? 

You heard the shower door open and shut before feeling Copia’s arms wrapping around you from behind. He laid his chin on your shoulder and kissed you gently on the cheek.

“I love you.” He cooed, “You know that, si?” 

“Y-yes.” You responded softly through tears. 

“Please tell me what is going on in your beautiful mind?” He kissed you again. 

“I’m being so selfish and I don’t know why I’m like this. I should have seen this relapse a mile away, but I didn’t. I–I’ve just been so focused on trying to cope without you.” 

“But, cara mia, I’m not gone yet.” 

“You will be, though. And I need to be ready. I need to figure out a way to survive, and in all the hustle to find it I somehow fell back into - “You gestured to your body, “all this bullshit. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to be so weak and pitiful to you. And this shouldn’t be your problem.”

Copia pulled you tighter against his chest and reached for your hands. He didn’t say anything, he simply held you in the heat of the shower. For a moment you thought he might be crying, but you couldn’t be sure. The thundering of the water was loud and very good at disguising tears. But when he turned you to face him, there was no doubt.

Copia, the strong and confident Papa you had come to love, met you with red, tearful eyes. He kissed you softly on the lips and rested his forehead against yours. 

“This isn’t a relapse, amore mio. It’s a small blip in the road, si? You are so strong and have fought so well. I know that you can overcome this with me here or on the other end of the phone. You have so many people around you wanting to help and support you, cara. Don’t let it go to waste in the name of pride. Everyone needs to ask for help sometimes. Even I.” 

You close your eyes and let his words settle in your soul. 

“I know how hard it was for you to confide in me about this. And even more so in Terzo. I hope you know how brave you are.” 

“Y-yes.” You managed, your eyes meeting his. You sniffed back tears, “I s-suppose I am.” 

“You are!” Copia smiled as he reached up to move your wet hair from your face. He kissed you gently on the lips and took your face in his palms, “The bravest! Il mio amore coraggioso! And you can reach out again at any time. You will not be my problem because I love you, cara mia, I love you! And while I do not wish this on you, I would help you through this one hundred times over with the same fury and dedication.” 

You smiled slightly, feeling the hope restore itself in your soul. Copia, loved you. Like really loved you. And for that you had to fight; if not for you, then for him. 

“I-I love you, amore.”

“I love you too.” 

“Do you believe me when I say you are strong enough for this? That you can kick it’s metaphorical culo?”

You giggle at the terminology. He did always have a way with words. 

“I do, Copia, I-I really do.” 

[peasthedumb]

Mini vent (dw, nothing serious, basically just complaints. It’s written kinda long so there’s a tldr)

[tl;dr]: I’m staying over at my youngest brothers caravan for a week, and I REALLY REALLY want to go home because I feel REALLY uncomfortable, unsafe and trapped and out of place, but I’m 4 hours on a train from home and it would break his heart to try leave early.

So, context: my idea of fun is chilling with my comfort group of family humans. We sit, we don’t talk, maybe me and my oldest brother watch a game we both like, his girlfriend plays sims, I play my own games, it’s real chill, real fun. We don’t go outdoors or do extravagant things or have to host and please- we literally just do nothing. It’s great.

So what am I complaining about? My other younger brother, lives by the sea, super autistic (diagnosed), really extroverted, being hugely silly. Hes 10 years older so he loves me as his baby sister (I’m definitely more mature than him). So anyway he’s been feeling lonely lately living away from the whole family and he just got a new caravan with his new gf, so he wanted me to come over for a few weeks. I do not want to leave my comfort zone, but eh, it’s good for him, I agree to one week. So anyway, yeah, it’s hell.

3 days and I’m already worn to the bone, he needs constant entertaining, wants to do something every day, his girlfriend is coming back tomorrow and it’s gonna be 10x worse. She seems lovely but with all due respect, I’ve never met her before, and my brother is already pushing the edge of my comfort bubble. Everyone is very very lax and chill and touchy, which is fine, exept I’m a super terrified asexual, and the amount of fucking times I’ve had hands on my waist or hips and obviously it’s all casual and chill but it’s SO uncomfortable, and I don’t have a bed, or any normal comforts, and everyone is different here, and I just want to go home. I really really want to go home, like really really. I miss home, I’m homesick, I want my people back, the pets, my bedroom and safe space, Ive cried every day I’ve been here, I just feel so tired and uncomfortable and unsafe, and it’s an entire 4 hour train back, so it’s not even like I can just pop over, or ask for someone to come get me.

Im fucking at stranded in the middle of nowhere with nobody, nothing, nowhere of comfort, and I cannot express just how much I want to go home. I feel so uncomfortable and tired.

But my brother , super autistic, has been SO exited to have me, and he’s SUPER exited about me meeting his gf and bringing her into the family group, and he’s loving having me here, and he’s been SO sad leading up to this because he misses me and the family. I’m actually trapped, I just want to go home.

[despite-everything]

i feel like every time i finally feel at peace about going no-contact with my mother something happens again that makes it sickening and one of the hardest things i've done.

i don't think i've ever burst into tears like this before. i dont even cry that often but im just really fucking going through it tonight. my mother texted me photos of the land she's bought down in central texas to build a ranch house on. when i was a kid, my grandparents had ranches. my grandmother was raised on one, too, and its gone back in our family. so i grew up on the ranch for holidays, long weekends, and portions of the summer. when my grandmother died and my parents divorced when i was a preteen, i went with my dad and my connection with that side of the family was almost severed because of my mothers tendency to spread lies and rumors which made me and my father unwelcome. a few years ago, the ranch became public property which is something im grateful for, but its weird to go back and visit, and i live nowhere near there anymore.

i basically went no-contact with my mother two years ago when she used my grandfather's death against me in a really terrible way. that was my grandfather who ranched. i long to be back in central texas. i feel so at home there. but im trans and unless i get one of a few very specific jobs (probably in austin) i wont go back and that breaks my fucking heart. my mother still texts me sometimes, and i havent blocked her because ive been informed of major family news from her even though i cant respond. she bought some land a few months ago and is building on the property and is going to move back to texas. she sent me update photos of the land tonight as well as a story about a beautiful coyote skeleton picked clean by buzzards on the property. i was the family member who collected bones from the ranch. i genuinely burst into tears when i saw the photos.

and then she followed up by talking about how she intends to build a small ranch house and a small guest house for friends and family to feel welcome and visit. and i just can't stop crying. that's all i've ever wanted. my grandparents had several ranches, but sold them. they asked every other person in the family if they'd be willing to take it over and manage it except for me - the one person who had always wanted to do that. but no one asked me and it was at a tumultuous time in my parents marriage so i didnt know until years later and too late. and theres almost no chance in hell i could ever afford property like that unless i inherit. and since all the ranches were sold and my grandparents are dead, i don't think that will ever happen to me. the ranch they lived on was The Ranch in the sense that it had a guest cabin and enough space for family to visit and at holidays there'd be 12-15 of us. i fucking miss that so much and theres no way to get it back and i know that but the fact that my mother is managing to re-create that same thing and i can't be part of it without hurting myself immensely is so sickening to me.

like i feel like im rambling and just sound stupid or ungrateful or something but its like ive been coming to terms with the fact that i'll never have an intact family again and im never going to have access to "home" unless i create one from scratch and i miss living in texas even with the bad parts and i miss the ranch and my family and this woman who has hurt me so fucking much suddenly gets to have this amazing life where she's becoming the new family matriarch and creating a place for everyone to gather and be happy hurts so so so much. im scared i will forgive her. ive cut her off then accepted her back before and it only made things worse. if i know whats good for me i'll stay away. but it's like the thing i've wanted more than anything else in the entire world is being dangled in front of me but if i accept it i might as well kill myself.

[transmandrake]

Feel like talking about art... I worry a lot that I've passed some kind of 'peak' in my art, not per se skillwise but productivity wise.

'I made a 65 page full colour full shading comic chapter and had it printed! Oh my god, I could never do that now', I think. But thankfully in this age I've seen this exact thing happen to so many artists slightly older than me... intense productivity in school, sudden drop in early 20's, figure shit out in late 20's. It makes sense, art was basically the only thing keeping me together for many of those productive years, and I was miserable.

And now, yeah, I'm back in a high stress environment, but this time I'm managing my own progress and am doing things I want to do on some level, that aren't art. Is it any wonder people go on massive hiatuses when theres no longer One Thing they want to do?

And well also. The classic. It is bonkers the amount of people I grew up admiring who crashed and burned in college and then get diagnosed with, well usually several things but especially ADHD. I'd like to think I'm "learning from other's """pitfalls"""" by nipping that revelation in the bud early (healthcare system tho... pls gimme anything... an appointment, maybe...) but I've been ruminating a long time on art advice and life advice and a lot of the time it's not possible to 'skip' on doing the 'wrong' thing.

So much art advice is like 'man i wish i learned anatomy or x thing when I was younger, so much time wasted' and yes it seems true in hindsight, learning anatomy is pivotal to my current art... but I think I had to *get* to a point art and well growing up wise where that was even something I could fully comprehend. Theres lots of things where, yeah, I'm sure sitting 12 year old me down and getting them excited about Bones and Muscles wasn't *impossible*, but there was like 100 mini lessons that have no names I had to learn first. It's like, a skill tree in a video game. You have to learn fireball I and II before great fireball IV or whatever. It's easy to say man, why didn't I learn Hard Thing sooner, I would have been so much better by now, when in order to be able for Hard Thing you had to learn all the smaller easier things it leads to. Going straight for the big guns isn't impossible, but you'll end up having to go backwards at some point. In fact I feel like that's what's happening to me now!

I'm like, why is my art shit conpared to a few years ago, why am I half-assing everything, and you know what I spent 5 years only doing full colour full shading stuff because that was The Inevitable Artistic Conclusion and doing Less would be Wasting My Time! And I think that was the right choice actually. *Because* it made me learn that thought process wasn't true.

Also ummm FFAK by kosmicdream who I am sheepishly not tagging basically rewrote my brain? A 6000+ and not even half finished comic drawn with maximum speed and not sweating the details? And its great? And at no point did I think the story was worse off for not being polished to 100% 'completion'? Preposterous!

Well, not really. Loads of comics are like that. I knew I didn't want to be like them. But hm, its a conscious choice now rather than a feeling of shame at not completing things. The reassurance that, it's okay to not finish things, and it's okay to do less in order to finish things. Balance. FFAK just really punched that lesson into my skull rather than the light jabs of comics I'd loved before. I can count the comics I read as a kid that actually *finished* on like, two hands max. I reevaluated, what do I want to be, perfect incompletion or finished imperfection. And chose both and neither because I'm a vile little contrarian.

Am I going to finish my comic? Finished doesn't exist, so no. Does that mean my tedious perfection is justified as long as the unfinished work is what I envisioned? Also no, because I am not the same person I was when I stopped lifting the pen and my idea of perfection is also always just out of reach. Also it's. A story. I want to tell it. Not look at it.

Like, just... do what you want. What you want will change, you can't put a box around it. But also develop discipline, because that box helps. It's always breaking and expanding and shrinking but the box has to be there. You have to try. But you won't succeed. And that's okay, because that's not the goal. It's a dance, not a house.

You might want to build a place to dance easier but you've gotta dance. And you suck at dancing but you love it. And if you don't love ot anymore, go work on the house until you want to again, and you'll think, why am I building this goddamn house instead of dancing, and you'll keep forgetting that the house exists to dance in. Then someday you come back off the scaffolding and realise, woah, holy shit, dancing here is going to be so much better.

And you think, why didn't I make the house like this in the first place? Well, because you only started building the house when you didn't want to dance, imagine if you made the house perfect, and then stopped liking dancing? Well you'd be me, you'd knock that house down, and you'd rebuild it all shit, because you didn't need the house to dance, you needed the process of building it. You can make that perfect house all the time, but you can only make a shit house once. No matter how you try, you're gonna figure out why the house is shit, and make it better.

And you'll say, why didn't I make this first before! I'm learning so much! And you'll remember why, it's because everyone said 'man, don't make a house like I made it. Look at my new house, its so much better, do that! I wasted so much time on the shit house!' But they didnt. They learned. You made their perfect house with no understanding of why it was perfect. You had to break it, to rebuild it, to retrace the steps, to learn.

[absinthehoney]

birthday

today i held a zippo lighter in front of your face today and sang out of tune with a toothy sort of grin on my face. the flame burns for too long until the metal grows hot in my hand and starts to hurt. that’s alright. i like how you indulge me and close your eyes to blow it out, scrunching up your face to think of a wish. 

today I sat down in the dark at home and starred at the wall until the patterns bled together into a blurred mess. everything around me is decaying faster than i can make sense of. it’s only been five months, but i’m already gripped by the paralyzing fear that the end too close for comfort. what happened before wasn’t sudden. it was slow and creeping. too slow and creeping. i didn’t notice my emotional limb had rotted to bone before I met you. a week later i cut it off and asked you out to coffee. 

I feel like i’m always looking for signs now, trying to avoid another late stage amputation-- like if i catch it early enough, expect it early enough that I can fix it before it gets to that. 

i wasn’t like this before. i was never nervous in the service-- shellshocked by every little gesture, word, and touch. im frightened by something that isnt even happening. i’m worried i’ve annoyed you past the point of it being charming and bringing it up will only get a halfhearted, frustered ‘you aren’t. dont worry’ in return. 

you’re all i have. and whats worse is i dont have anyone to tell about it. 

my family neuroses have reached a breaking point and any friends i had have chewed each other up and spit eachother out. there's nothing viable, identifiable left. just blood, and viscera, and whispering, and crying. any trust ive had for anyone around me is gone since my life has become a fucking game of telephone. 

happy birthday

[minniefights]

Update #4

We’ve been at home for a few days now, continuing my mom’s Pneumonia iv antibiotic via home care. For a few days, my mom’s condition became a bit worse but now it’s already been significantly clearing out. (Thank you to all those who have prayed!) However, her Asthma worsened a bit with bouts of wheezing a few times. The doctor have given Mom apt medication for it and it has also been working well on her.

My mom’s ability to stand on her own has been affected lately, though. Now, we really need to ask the help of our male caregiver to lift her every time she needs to pee (on a commode) or for other reasons. She’s mostly bed-bound because of the pain of her spine fracture. And she’s been given Morphine as a rescue pain drug.

Unfortunately, this week my mom had a minor accident. She forgot that she’s unable to stand on her own and when she woke up one morning, she stood and fell on the floor. She sustained a bruise in the head but it seems it’s not a very serious injury. We will continue to observe it. Meanwhile, I’m “guarding” her hospital bed now by placing mine right beside her so she won’t be able to go out on her own.

Confusion is part of the symptoms of Multiple Myeloma and she does have episodes where she forgets some things or gets confused about what’s going on around her.

In this list of symptoms the only ones my mom is not experiencing is (1) kidney problems and (2) feeling thirsty and passing urine more frequently.

In a much lighter note, today was a win! 🏆 She was able to sit on a wheelchair for an hour and we brought her out of the room for the first time since we came home.

In photo is Mom, on her left is Ama Fe (my mom’s 88 y.o Mom) and on her right is Nanay Mering (my Dad’s 89 y.o Mom) enjoying their morning chitchat.

As per the doctor’s order we will try to wean her off the oxygen so she will slowly adjust to breathe on her own. We’re hoping her condition continues to improve so we will get clearance to do her bone marrow biopsy next week. We really need this so we will know the severity of her cancer and decide on the treatment plan.

Also, our dear family and friends have initiated fundraising campaigns for my Mom. We really appreciate the love, concern and generosity from all of you. It makes us feel that we are not fighting alone. We have an army of good and loyal friends and family who stands by us. May God bless you a hundredfold! 🙏🏽

[anothersuperstition]

.

[mydearfantasy]

When they’re insecure 🖤

Characters: Diluc & Albedo

Summary: You’ve been hanging out with someone close to them and they begin to doubt themselves

Genre: Angst to fluff

Part two with Razor and Bennet coming soon :)

DILUC

For a man of many qualities, he was sorely lacking in social skills

It was truly a blessing that he’d managed to land such a sweetheart as you, your relationship in its early infancy

Kind, caring, beautiful, beloved by all... by all...all... by the forever nuisance in his life, his dearest brother

Many a night he watched the two of you laugh and joke in a booth at the bar. You had came to accomply him on his shift, but he was too busy dealing with all the customers to pay you enough attention, attention that kaeya had quickly taken for himself

Had he ever made you laugh so? It took him months to form a bond with you, had it taken Kaeya mere days? Were the two of you more compatible?

The already ever present frown grows deeper, scaring off whatever customers were present. Anger which was bubbling fervently inside him was soon replaced with crippling doubt.

You... you weren’t going to leave him, right? You’d spent precious moments together, moments that helped lift the heavy burdens of his ever present torments. The loneliness that he felt deep within himself dissipated whenever you were by his side... he couldn’t stand to lose you

He finishes his shift early that night, the unsettling feeling forming a pit in his stomach, deciding to leave without you, uncertain of what not so kind words would be directed towards his brother should be encounter him

Was he really going to lose you to kaeya?

Only several meters out of the bar, he hears footsteps rapidly approaching, he prepares himself to deal with whoever dared to make his night even worse

But it was you, an arm slipping into his, a look of concern plastered on you face

“Is everything alright? You left without saying anything.” He doesn’t have the heart to take his arm away, resigning himself to his fate. Perhaps... you’d be happier... with someone else. Even if that someone is Kaeya

What could be even offer you? Aside from gifts and riches. He was forever absent, awkward in conversation. He didn’t believe possess an ounce genuine charm, aside from his gentlemanly facade.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tentatively begins, already feeling that the end is in sight, “You looked like... you were having a good time. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Eyes downcast, he prepares himself for the words he says next “If...if there’s someone else you’d rather spend your time with... that’s... alright. I won’t hold you back. Please, do what makes you happy.” He truly only wanted your happiness... even...even if it wasn’t with him

You manoeuvre in front of him, clasping both of your hands in his, “ What are you talking about? Kaeya was talking about you! He was telling me what you were like as a kid! I couldn’t get anything out of you... so I thought I’d ask him!” A mischievous grin forming on your face, “He told me all about how you couldn’t sleep without your stuffed dragon, how you still couldn’t say spaghetti correctly until you were 15-“

You’re cut off mid sentence by his arms enveloping you in a bone crushing hug, immense relief flooding through him, smiling softly, you return the embrace.

You realise the reason for his actions, it leaves you feeling guilty inside. he was insecure. Scared. You’d do whatever you could to remidy it. “It’s alright Diluc, I’m not charmed quite so easily.” You whisper gently, wanting nothing more to comfort him and ease the guilt you felt for making him feel so troubled

Looking into his eyes, you steady his face against your palm, “You’re the only one for me. I assure you,”

He leans in, looking deep into your eyes for confirmation, that your word is pure and true.

Satisfied, he seals the deal with a soft kiss on the lips

ALBEDO

Truly doesn’t notice it at first

He trusted you, of course he did, so he didn’t think anything of you hanging out with Timeous

That is, until you were too busy to spend time with him

He took some time to relfect then, noticing that you spent time with him and timeous whenever you came to visit, offering him words of encouragement on his tasks when you noticed his struggles

An unpleasant feeling begins to rise in his chest. One that he has never felt before

He takes more time to confirm that’s what’s causing his discomfort, not wanting to act without complete evidence

He can admit himself that he lacks experience in relationships, often feeling uncertain about how to proceed

You always seemed happy. Eager to help him with his experiments, laying his head in your lap after a long day so you could read to him

What had went wrong?

He thinks for a long time, trying to find a cause and solution

Perhaps he hadn’t spent enough time with you. His experiments were time consuming, often not very interesting for those not involved in alchemy, had Timeous provided the affection you were in need of?

He decided the only way to remedy this problem was to approach you, despite the unfamiliar nerves rising in his chest

You’d already changed his life for the better, made his days even more exciting, finding new enjoyment outside of alchemy, to continue on without you... was that even possible?

Pouring steaming mugs of coffee for the two of you, he sets them on the table in front of you, greeting you with a quick hello, making haste, seeing no reason to delay dealing with the problem

He could always resolve problems, but, what if this was one he couldn’t? He tried to bury thoughts like those before they had a chance to rise to the surface.

Cool eyes regard you over the steam, suddenly unsure where to start. Setting the mug down, he begins. “Ive noticed that a lot of your time has been dedicated towards Timeous as of late. Being a personal friend of mine, It is easy to acknowledge that many are drawn to his kindness.” He watched your brows furrowed in confusion, mouth almost open and ready to rebute him, but he continues on. “ I want satisfactory experiences for both of us. For us to continue forward, I believe it would be best to address the problem at hand.” Now he felt the nerves rising, sticky and prickly in his chest. What words would he hear next? “I... want our relationship to continue past this. I do not think it would be pleasant... if it ended so soon. Whatever issue there is, I want to fix it. Together.” Now, the dreaded question, “...Why is Timeous occupying so much of your time?”

The question hangs in the air for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. Had he felt like this for a while? Scared as to why you weren’t spending time with him?

You reach out, sensing the implications behind his words, clasping his gloved hands in yours, “You have nothing to worry about Albedo. Truthfully, you always looked busy. Concentrated. A little... tense. I didn’t want to bother you. I know how much you dedicate yourself to your craft, I didn’t want to distract you from that.” You smile sadly, realising you caused a problem as you tried to prevent one. “You’re the only one for me, I swear it.” Your smile picks up, hoping to comfort him,giving his hands a soft squeeze, “My chalk prince.”

A smile returns to his own face, relief flooding through him. “I’m truly glad of that. To proceed forward on this path without you... it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

You finish your drinks, hearts as warm as the mugs in hand.

[luveline]

tl asleep lol tw vent (more of a diary entry than anything overly negative but) tw weight loss ment and talking about myself in general like narcissus staring into a pond 😭

i think the heat has ruined my moisturiser cos ive only had it for a few months and i swear it smells like glue all of a sudden?? so I smell like glue, i look weird too my haircut has made it so the bits by my ears curl really enthusiastically and im not sure if it's a good look. but I look pretty today anyhow

also have been losing a lot of weight recently cos i don't have an appetite anymore especially when it's hot like this and it's weird to actually see my body changing, i don't care either way but yeah super strange to look at my thighs/arms and notice that they've slimmed down . I WAS worried about my chest but it doesn't seem to have changed for the worse, if anything i like it more now

im not sick for once which is really cool. i AM super lonely but I don't feel up to talking to anyone either and I'm not unfair enough to bother anyone it's just like.... .... I don't want to talk but I don't want to be by myself. but I really do want to be by myself which is a stupid contradiction

in general I don't think I'm very happy right now, there's a lot of things in my life that feel too heavy and I'm not interested in carrying them around but you can't exactly put them down either. im just trying to make it to the next day often and this feels weird to admit because it's not like I'm actively telling anyone how I feel. my family are my family and i love them but i can't say any of them are interested in how im feeling, not that i blame them for that though with everything going on

it's weird because I don't feel that sad most of the time, even writing this I don't feel very upset. I guess I'm frustrated because things just don't seem to be getting any better and lately I can't even write which SUCKS. i kind of feel like im in limbo and its not fun but im not looking forward or moving on either and that's my fault

and none of this is new obviously but lately its distracting, I think because its August and summer and I'm never very well in the summer. I keep having dreams about people and things that happened and that brings it all fresh to the surface

I really think it's too hot and that's actually what's upsetting me. so I might go submerge myself in a cold bath for an hour haha. also I'm probably more upset by my shitty writing lately than im admitting to myself, it honestly feels terrible when you're not good at the one thing you're good at. and the lingering idea that im stupid like to the bone dumb gets worse when i can't write

I think it's worthless to mention the shame cycle here but that's very much ongoing too. all around, I'm really tired but things are NOT all bad. I have my family, I have this blog, I have a roof over my head and autonomy and if I can just pull myself together and start writing again I know I'm gonna feel heaps better. that's not to mention movies and music and reading im really trying to look on the bright side and get it together before October